One of the greatest blessings in life is to discover your talent at a young age, and do something productive with it.

—REVEREND MOTHER RAQUELLA BERTO-ANIRUL

Gilbertus Albans rode in an open, horse-drawn carriage that made its way slowly along the muddy streets of the Lampadas capital, leading other carriages in a victory parade. Beside him sat Manford Torondo in a specially designed seat, waving to bystanders. The Butlerian leader and his followers were ecstatic with their triumphs at the Thonaris shipyards and the vote in the Landsraad Hall.

For Gilbertus, both were Pyrrhic victories. He had regained Manford’s trust by demonstrating to the Butlerians that he was no machine sympathizer, but he had to marshal his visible emotions. Even though the robot memory core had advised him to sacrifice the shipyards in order to maintain his reputation, he still felt he had somehow failed Erasmus. And he had hated being forced to defeat Draigo Roget in a real and crucial battle. Gilbertus longed for a return to the days of challenging intellectual debates and simulated games with his prize student.

Here in the medieval-like city on Lampadas, he saw a hub of political and commercial activity, a melting pot of humanity on the sidewalks and paving-stone streets. The crowds were cheering, with people hoisting placards that showed his own heroic image beside Manford’s. How quickly and easily their opinions changed! Blood-red and black Butlerian banners hung from buildings, fluttering in a cool morning breeze.

Shivering in a gust of wind, Gilbertus pulled his jacket collar around his neck. The city was a hodgepodge of buildings built beneath a weather convergence zone, in which different storm systems often clashed overhead, giving the inhabitants drenching rain, lightning, thunder, and wind, but the local leaders were a hardy bunch, and they seemed to like the location. Weathersats would have helped, but Manford would never accept the technology.

In contrast to the colorful celebrations, Gilbertus smelled sewage through the open carriage window; the stink would never have been so prevalent in a high-tech city, and certainly not on Corrin under the management of the thinking machines. He looked out at the throng with mixed feelings. He wanted to improve civilization, promote the cause of human advancement. Despite the Butlerian fervor, that could not be done by discarding and destroying any device or technique that was even remotely connected with sophisticated technology.

He couldn’t wait to get back to Erasmus, who remained hidden, locked away … probably lonely, and most certainly bored. Gilbertus was worried to have been gone so long. Many Butlerians had died during the attack at Thonaris—if something ever happened to him, what would become of Erasmus? Though Gilbertus had lived for a very long time, he was still mortal. He needed to find a way to guarantee the safety of the independent robot, and soon. But what human, or group of humans, could possibly supervise such a strong personality?

Manford turned away from the crowd, with a stern expression. “You look troubled, Mentat, on this great day.”

Gilbertus made himself smile, and waved at the crowd.

“They love you, too,” Manford continued. “They respect you—the great service you did for our movement. You should stay here and work with me on our expanding efforts. Leave the school in the hands of someone else.”

Gilbertus had not wanted to be here in the first place, but Manford insisted that the people needed to see their heroes, and adore them. “Thank you for saying that, sir, but my duties lie elsewhere. An important new student arrives this afternoon.”

“Ah, yes. Anna Corrino. It’s very good that she will be trained by someone of your moral caliber. And I am happy to have the Emperor’s sister close at hand, right here on Lampadas, so that I can … ensure her safety.”

Gilbertus fought to control his disturbed expression. Manford was considering Anna a hostage? “I understand she is troubled, her mind damaged by exposure to poison. But I will do what I can to help her through her difficulties. Perhaps Mentat techniques will prove beneficial.”

When the parade wound to its end, Gilbertus emerged from the carriage, and Anari Idaho retrieved Manford. Increasingly, the Headmaster was being compelled to have even closer ties with the leader of the movement.

For more than an hour, forced to remain at the reception, Gilbertus shook hands with enthusiastic, common people who gushed over him, praised him, patted him on the back. He posed for pictures with them, complimented them on their babies, and felt like the politician he did not want to be.

*   *   *

WITH FAR LESS spectacle, Gilbertus went to meet the Emperor’s sister when she arrived at the spaceport. Anna Corrino wore a dazed expression as she was led along by two palace guards who appeared to be twins, ruddy, uniformed men who seemed ill at ease on Lampadas.

Dressed in a skirt and blouse that made her look like a young teen rather than a twenty-one-year-old, Anna walked forward, her attention flitting to the sights around her. She took no notice of Gilbertus, but talked to herself in a constant, muttering monologue.

When Gilbertus introduced himself formally to her, and received no response, one of the guards nodded to him. “Prince Roderick Corrino sends you his sister. You are commanded to provide her with all available remedy for her ailment.”

Gilbertus studied the young woman, listened to her recite a litany of diverse information, and after initial incomprehension, he realized that she was naming the Landsraad representatives and proxies from all of the thousands of planets in the Imperium.

“I am impressed by your recall ability, Anna. It runs parallel with our studies here. A Mentat memorizes vast amounts of information and can recall it at will. Can you already do that? Are you able to come up with the data you want at any time?” When she didn’t respond, he turned to the guards. “She may be quite a challenge, but there’s a chance she could also be extremely successful, given her unique skills.”

“With your permission, Headmaster, we will accompany the Princess to your school. She is quite agitated—and very clever. You must take care not to let her get away.”

“Yes, of course. We wouldn’t want that.”

Gilbertus stood beside Anna and listened while she recited long strings of numbers, sets of facts, memories, and the birthdates of everyone in the Corrino/Butler family tree.

And he thought to himself, Erasmus will find her fascinating.