He who is willing to use an evil tool is himself evil. There are no exceptions.

—MANFORD TORONDO, The Only Path

Showing complete faith in the Mentat’s prediction, Manford guided his warships to the Thonaris star system. He was impressed by, and somewhat afraid of, the way Gilbertus Albans could assemble mountains of facts and tease out patterns based only on subtle hints. Mentat thought processes reminded him of sorcery or sophisticated computer processes—either of which raised equivalent concerns. The Headmaster asserted that he was merely demonstrating how the human mind was equivalent to any computer.

Though Gilbertus did show an unacceptable underlying admiration for thinking machines, as demonstrated by the disturbing comments he had made to his class, Manford had come to the conclusion that the Mentats and Butlerians were natural allies, fighting on the same side.

Inside his private cabin aboard the lead Ballista class ship, Manford continued to read horrifying passages from the Erasmus logbooks. The independent robot’s cruel descriptions of the tortures and experiments he had inflicted on countless humans, along with his bizarre and repulsive ruminations about the data he collected, only increased Manford’s fear and disgust. People no longer grasped how unspeakably evil the thinking machines were, and Erasmus was by far the worst of them all.

Though Manford had denied him before, the Butlerian leader had decided that Gilbertus Albans was an important ally, and now he showed Gilbertus the robot’s journal. He pointed out some of the most egregious of the revelations. “You can see how insidious this is. Every word is proof of what we are fighting against. Erasmus says it himself—‘Given enough time, they will forget … and will create us all over again.’”

Gilbertus paled as he examined the dense pages. Using his Mentat abilities, he instantly memorized the words. “Reading this frightens me,” he admitted. The Headmaster was a quiet man preoccupied with running his school and training his students; he still did not seem comfortable about joining this expedition, despite the celebratory mood aboard the ships. Citing a need for meditation to prepare for the upcoming battle, he asked Manford’s permission to be excused, and retreated to his quarters.

The standard FTL ships had been racing across space for the better part of a week. Since the Thonaris outpost was a long-dead manufacturing center, the Butlerians did not feel enough urgency to risk using the unpredictable spacefolding engines. During the journey to the distant system, anticipation and excitement mounted among the Butlerians, like hot moisture filling a steam bath.

Manford had begun to feel, though, that simply bashing another pile of already-dead machines was a hollow victory, and it meant far less than his followers thought it did. Still, the more Manford allowed his zealots to destroy straw-man enemies, the more they would be willing to follow him when he called for similar action against less obvious enemies like Machine Apologists, who tried to rationalize the use of some thinking machines. His followers were a weapon he could aim and fire. He would let the destruction of the Thonaris shipyards be a pressure-release valve, and a unifying act.

The mind of man is holy.

When the ships arrived in the star system, they found the thinking-machine base exactly where the Mentat had predicted. But Manford was astounded to see not a silent and frozen outpost, but a bustling center of industrial activity, manufacturing complexes full of automated assembly lines that fabricated metal hull plates and structural components, spewing heat and exhaust plumes. Huge construction docks hung above broken planetoids, where innumerable ships were even now being built.

His fellow observers on the bridge let out a collective gasp, Gilbertus Albans among them. Thirty armed patrol ships guarded the facilities, and Anari Idaho was the first to spot the sigil of the VenHold Spacing Fleet on their hulls. At least fifteen other VenHold ships were visible at the complex. Though the Butlerian vessels far outnumbered the enemy’s, the VenHold patrol ships lined up to face Manford’s fleet.

A pompous voice came across the transmission line. “Attention intruders: This facility is owned and operated by Venport Holdings. You are not welcome here.”

Disturbed by the man’s confident attitude, Manford responded, “This facility is a haven of illegal thinking-machine technology. All these ships, factories, and materiel are forfeit. We intend to destroy them.” He touched his lower lip and added, “You may evacuate your personnel, or not, as you wish. It is your choice.”

A few moments later, Directeur Venport himself appeared on the screen. “How dare you interfere with my legitimate operations? I don’t recognize your authority. You are trespassing on Venport property.”

In the meantime, Anari Idaho ran through a series of scans. As Manford and Venport continued to glare at each other across the screens, she said, “He has reactivated fourteen of the robotic manufacturing facilities. It looks like the machines are working for him. He will probably rewaken the rest, if given the chance.”

The Butlerian leader felt sickened. “Josef Venport, I don’t know whether to consider you appallingly foolish or simply evil.”

Venport hardened his expression. “Turn your barbarians around and depart immediately, or I will file a formal complaint with the Landsraad League, and withhold all transportation services to any planet that does not denounce you. I shall also demand legal reparations—every credit, plus punitive damages. More than enough to bankrupt you and put an end to your silly operations.”

Anari looked as if she wanted to skewer the comm screen with her sword, but Manford tried to remain outwardly calm. “My ships have had their instructions since we departed from Lampadas. File any complaint you like, but we will destroy these facilities today.” He switched off the comm, then issued orders for his front line of armed ships to target three of the reactivated robotic factories.

Gilbertus Albans turned pale. “Shouldn’t you give him time to evacuate personnel?”

“I will not destroy his administration hub or his VenHold ships, but those are robotic industrial facilities. Anyone who chooses to reawaken the thinking-machine operations is already damned by God. We will destroy the rest if he does not surrender.”

When the Butlerian fleet launched a volley at the three automated machine complexes, the obliteration was quite spectacular. Fuel tanks and compressed gases exploded; flying chunks of debris caromed off other domes and shattered sealed canisters.

The comm system lit up once more, and Anari reported, “Josef Venport wishes to speak with you again.”

“I thought as much.” Manford gestured to accept the transmission.

Venport looked apoplectic. “You monster, what have you done? I had people over there! And I have people in the other facilities as well.”

“I offered you the chance to evacuate. You’ve already lost. We have more than two hundred vessels—do you intend to return fire with your handful of patrol ships? I will respond to any act of aggression by destroying them, as well.”

“You are an ignorant man, Torondo,” Venport said.

“On the contrary, I consider myself intelligent and generous—especially now. Those who chose to work in this shipyard complex were led astray, but some of them might yet be saved. As I said before, I will allow you to evacuate personnel. Will three ships be sufficient to hold them? You have one hour. Gather anyone you wish to save, load them aboard the vessels, and we will receive them as prisoners before we recommence the cleansing of this place. Your own crimes, Directeur Venport, will be addressed later—after we remove this blight.”