Some things are too big to hide.

—anonymous saying

The landscape near the Butlerian headquarters reminded Gilbertus of images he had seen of Old Earth in its ancient days, with rolling green hills, farm buildings dotting the landscape, and pasturelands with grazing sheep, goats, and cows. Even the animals were originally from Earth stock. The scene had a flavor of an old Van Gogh painting that Erasmus revered, Cottages at Cordeville.

Gilbertus and Manford Torondo enjoyed a sumptuous outdoor breakfast of fresh farm and dairy foods at the private house of the Butlerian leader.

Because of the great expedition he was about to launch to the Thonaris shipyards, Manford was surprisingly talkative. “If your projection is correct, Headmaster, we will have a great victory—just what I need in order to keep my followers energized. We will be doing a good thing for humanity. I’m glad you will be there to see this.”

Taking care to keep up appearances, the Mentat ate his breakfast even though he was not hungry. “I’m pleased you find the results of my projection worthwhile. But I would prefer not to accompany the fleet. I am not a military man, and I cannot abandon my obligations at my school. I still have important training programs to coordinate.”

As usual, he had hidden the memory core in his office, bidding the autonomous robot farewell and leaving with an uneasy feeling. He disliked leaving the Erasmus core alone, but he had no choice. Manford had summoned him. Gilbertus realized that, in a sense, he was working for two different masters, and both were invalids.

The Butlerian leader frowned at his answer. “Don’t you want to be with us, to see your Mentat projection proved correct?”

Gilbertus remained placid. “I know I am correct.”

“Then I want you there for my own reasons,” Manford said. “In case a recalculation is necessary.”

Knowing it was what Erasmus would have advised, the Mentat acquiesced without showing disagreement.

*   *   *

FEELING GREATLY OUT of place, Gilbertus stood on a platform next to Manford Torondo. In front of them, cheering Butlerians gathered on the vast, grassy field before the ships that were ready to lift off to orbit. The legless man sat on a palanquin on poles that rested on the shoulders of two men; his Swordmaster stood at his side like a guardian statue.

Manford beamed as he looked out on the throng. He glanced at Gilbertus. “And now, as I promised, it’s time to remove the stain from your name, Headmaster Albans, to show all these people that you are forgiven, a worthy follower whose loyalty cannot be doubted.” The crowd cheered.

Gilbertus did not feel an inner warmth from the praise, as he did whenever Erasmus complimented him. But he pretended nevertheless, glad that the reputation of the Mentat School had been restored.

Manford raised his hands in the air to quiet the crowd and shouted without artificial amplifiers, “Through Mentat analysis, Gilbertus Albans has discovered the location of what may be the most extensive shipyards ever constructed by the evil Omnius. With our enlarged fleet, we shall eradicate another blight left by the thinking machines. Stand in front of me, Gilbertus. Let these people see the Mentat who has revealed our next target.”

From the sound of the thunderous applause, Gilbertus knew this man could say anything, and the people would approve of it. Though uncomfortable with the attention, the Mentat took a step forward and stood in full view, while Manford continued to address the crowd.

“Recently, due to an unfortunate misunderstanding, some people questioned the Headmaster’s dedication to our cause. Let us put those doubts to rest. Sometimes scholars can get caught up in the theoretical, while true crusaders focus on the practical. This man achieves both. He has sworn his loyalty to us, and his great Mentat School is proof of his goal to make us forever independent of thinking machines.”

In the midst of the commotion, Gilbertus had no choice but to stand there and receive the acclaim. Anari Idaho even handed him her sword, so that he could flourish it before the crowd, which made them even more excited. Understanding what they expected from him, and remembering the admonitions of Erasmus to do whatever was necessary to deflect suspicion from himself, Gilbertus shouted into the clamor: “On to the Thonaris star system!”

As a Mentat, accustomed to deep thinking and long consideration before acting, he felt out of balance here with the firebrand leader, who made so many of his decisions on an emotional basis. Demolishing the abandoned shipyards would not be a real clash that required Mentat battle projections, but Gilbertus knew that when the place was destroyed, the crosshairs would shift, and the Butlerians would look elsewhere.

Yes, there would always be a target, and Gilbertus didn’t want it to be him.