Following Serena’s execution, Vorian Atreides was not at all surprised at how quickly Iblis Ginjo surged back into prominence. For some time before that terrible event the Grand Patriarch’s star had been falling, especially once Serena began to take a more direct role in the Jihad Council. Iblis, always self-serving and accustomed to power, must have resented his diminishing position. Vor knew the former machine trustee well, and was convinced that he had devised this spectacular way to get rid of Serena Butler.
Now the “grieving” Grand Patriarch took great pleasure in rallying the people to a heightened, rabid level of vengeance. Apparently he expected to receive even more accolades for his much publicized mission to the Tlulaxa planets, urging the secretive race to become League members. By accompanying him on a diplomatic ship to Tlulax, the respected Primero Harkonnen lent legitimacy to Iblis’s diplomatic mission, though Vor knew his friend also had doubts about Iblis Ginjo….
Stewing and feeling helpless, Vor remained behind on Salusa. Vidad and his fellow Ivory Tower Cogitors had spent months in Zimia, naï vely meddling with the Jihad and the politics of the League. Finally, when angry representatives and mobs ranted against them, they made preparations to return to their glacier-enshrouded fortress on Hessra. Their yellow-robed secondaries, unsettled and confused after the martyrdom of the Priestess, arranged for transportation, undoubtedly happy to go back into hiding.
But before they left Salusa Secundus, Vor knew he had to talk with the seemingly oblivious, disembodied human minds. The Ivory Tower Cogitors considered themselves enlightened philosophers. Instead, it seemed they were merely ancient, deluded fools.
No one challenged Primero Atreides as he strode into the fortified cultural libraries. The Cogitors had remained there while their secondaries copied documents of nearly forgotten philosophical treatises and manifestos that had been written during the years Vidad and the others were in seclusion. Vor went alone into the spacious data rooms, despite the eager jihadi officers who wanted to accompany him.
Six secondaries met him inside the echoing library, standing beside pedestals that held the Cogitors’ preservation canisters. “Primero Atreides,” said the preeminent secondary, Keats, who looked disturbed and full of self-doubt. “Vidad commands us to depart soon. During the journey to Hessra, and afterward, we will have much to debate with our masters.”
“And well you should, for I have much to discuss with Vidad himself.” The anger in Vor’s tone was palpable, taking the secondaries aback. In a rush of information from the past, he remembered the dark things he had learned from reading— and foolishly believing— the memoirs of Agamemnon.
Atop their pedestals, bodiless brains floated in bluish electrafluid. “As Cogitors we are willing to discuss important matters,” announced one of the legendary brains through a speaker patch. “Enlightenment increases through the exchange of opinions and information. Vorian Atreides, you are an experienced man, though still vastly younger than any of us here.”
Vor said, “With extreme age comes mental fossilization. Your peace attempt is an embarrassment to all Cogitors, a shame on the capabilities of your kind.”
The secondaries were amazed that this former lackeys the thinking machines would speak so boldly. In contrast, even though their fluid-filled canisters shimmered with a buzz of mental activity, the Cogitors did not seem overly upset. “You do not entirely understand what has occurred, Primero Atreides. You are unable to discern the subtleties.”
“I understand that your innocent optimism created a dangerous situation, like immature children bumbling about in the affairs of adults. You made a foolish choice that cost the life of the greatest woman who ever lived.”
Vidad did not sound disturbed. “Serena Butler asked us to communicate with the thinking machines. Her intent was to find a way to end the Jihad. If our plan had been followed, the hostilities between humans and thinking machines would have ceased. We believe Serena Butler intentionally provoked Omnius into violent retaliation. Otherwise the machines would not have made such a response.”
Vor shook his head, gritted his teeth. “How can you have lived so long, and understand so little? A war cannot simply stop without any resolution. The core conflict of Serena Butler’s Jihad will never go away just because you wish to ignore it, or because our people are tired of fighting. Your attempt— if successful— would have led us to the brink of extinction.”
The Cogitor pondered, then said, “You are behaving irrationally, Vorian Atreides— along with the bulk of humanity, as far as we can determine.”
“Irrationally?” He spat out a bitter laugh. “Yes, that’s what we humans do best, and it maybe the means by which we achieve great victory.”
“If you live long enough, Vorian Atreides, you will begin to appreciate the depth of our wisdom.”
Vor shook his head. “Perhaps if you keep pondering the question, Vidad, you will recognize your own delusions.”
Angrily, he turned to leave, knowing he would resolve nothing by a continued debate with the disembodied thinkers, who had in effect detached themselves from the realities and necessities of humanity. As he departed from the library, Vor called over his shoulder, “Go back to Hessra and stay there. Don’t ever try to help us again.”