The Dream Voyager traveled again through the Synchronized Worlds, carrying its various updates of Omnius. Everything back to normal and on schedule, the familiar routine. While the black-and-silver ship looked and functioned the same as always, Vor Atreides himself had changed.
“How can you not be interested in playing our usual military games, Vorian Atreides?” Seurat asked. “You have not even bothered to insult my attempts at jokes. Are you ill?”
“I am exceptionally healthy, ever since my father gave me the life-extension treatment.” Vor stared out a viewing window at the stars.
“You are obsessed with that slave woman,” the robot captain said at last. “I find you much less interesting when you are in love.”
Scowling, Vor left the porthole to seat himself before an oval database-display window. “You’ve finally made a funny joke, old Metalmind— a machine talking to me about love.”
“It is not difficult to understand the basic reproductive drive of a species. You underestimate my analytical abilities.”
“Love is an indescribable force. Not even the most sophisticated thinking machine can feel it. Don’t even try.”
“Then would you care to distract yourself with another competitive challenge?”
Vor stared into the oval computer screen, where he often perused the memoirs of Agamemnon. But there was so much more information he had never bothered to check. “Not now. I want to search through some databases. Can you grant me access to the files?”
“Of course. Agamemnon asked me to facilitate your knowledge-enhancement requests whenever possible, especially with regard to military planning. After all, you saved us when our vessel was attacked at Giedi Prime.”
“Exactly. I’m interested in seeing Omnius’s records of the overthrow of the Old Empire, the Time of Titans, and the Hrethgir Rebellions. Not just my father’s memoirs.”
“Ah, an interesting display of ambition.”
“Are you afraid I’ll win too many of our games if I learn more?” Vor scanned the list of files and was glad he would have so much time on the long update run.
“I have nothing to fear from a mere human.”
For hours, Vor sat at the midships console, accessing the wealth of information. He had not studied so much since his days in the trustee school. With his mind sensitized by thoughts of Serena, Vor expected to find a few minor discrepancies in the historical record, when compared with Agamemnon’s recollections. Even a cymek might be allowed to embellish war stories. But Vor was shocked to discover how radically different the evermind’s objective records were from what Agamemnon had described.
Feverishly, he looked through records about Salusa Secundus, the Time of Titans, and the Old Empire, astonished at what he learned. Vorian had never bothered to look before, but the information was all here in front of his eyes.
My father lied to me! He distorted the events, taking credit, hiding the extent of the brutality and suffering— even Omnius knew it.
On the other hand, Serena had told him the truth.
For the first time in his life he felt anger toward his machine masters and his own father, and a glimmer of compassion for the human race. How bravely they had fought!
I, myself, am physically human. But what does that mean?
Agamemnon had caused horrendous slaughter and devastation during the Time of Titans, against people who were only trying to protect their own freedoms. He and Juno were responsible for the deaths of billions of people and the harsh enslavement of survivors. The humans had deserved none of this, had only tried to defend themselves.
No wonder Serena hates me, if I am the son of such a horrible murderer!
Vor read on. All the history was there, a dispassionate record accumulated by efficient machines— and he could not doubt it. Not this. Machines would never whitewash their records. Data was held sacred; information must be accurate. Deliberate deception was anathema to them.
It required a human mind to distort such information . . . or a human mind in a cymek body.
Seurat’s voice startled him. “What are you researching? You have already wasted hours.”
Gazing into the robot’s mirrored face, Vor admitted, “I am learning more about myself.”
“That should require only minimal study,” Seurat said in an attempt at wit. “Why trouble yourself unnecessarily?”
“Sometimes it is necessary to face the truth.” Vor closed the database, darkened the monitor.
The robot captain stepped back to the central console and linked himself with the ship’s systems in order to begin planetary approach maneuvers. “Come now, we have reached Corrin. It is time for our next update delivery.”