Sandworms of Dune - Entry #17

     Now with all the knowledge and control from Erasmus, what should Duncan do?

     Jessica said, "Shut them down, Duncan.  Finish it now! Think of all the trillions they've killed, all the planets they've destroyed."
     Duncan looked at his hands in wonder.  "And is that the honorable thing to do?"
     Erasmus kept his voice carefully neutral, not pleading.  "For millennia I studied humans and tried to understand them ... I even emulated them.  But when was the last time humans bothered to consider what thinking machines could do? You only despise us.  Your Great Convention with its terrible stricture, 'Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a human mind.' Is that really what you want Duncan? To win this ultimate war by exterminating every vestige of us ... the way Omnius wanted to win the war by eliminating you? Didn't you hate the evermind for that fixed attitude?  Do you have the same attitude yourself?"

(Sandworms of Dune, p. 498)

     But Duncan would not have such an attitude.  Noble, loyal, patient, and, having learned from so many lives, wise.  I have to include here a long passage because this is really the climax, where the pieces fall in to place.

     Duncan turned to face Paul and the others.  "After the Butlerian Jihad, human civilization went too far by completely banning artificial intelligence.  But in forbidding any sort of computers, we humans denied ourselves valuable tools. That overreaction created an unstable situation.  History has shown that such absolute, draconian prohibitions cannot be sustained."
     Jessica said skeptically, "Yet eradicating computers for so many generations forced us to grow stronger and become independent.  For thousands of years, humanity advanced without artificial constructions to think and decide for us."
     "As the Fremen learned to live on Arrakis," Chani said with clear pride.  "It is a good thing."
     "Yes, but that backlash also tied our hands and prevented us from reaching other potentials.  Just because a man's legs will grow stronger walking, should we deny him a vehicle? Our memory improves through steady practice; should we therefore deny ourselves the means to write or record our thoughts?" 

... 

     Duncan let his eyes take on a far-off glaze.  "We can do much, much more.  I see it now.  Humans and machines cooperating fully, with neither side enslaving the other.  I shall stand between them, as a bridge."
     The robot responded with genuine excitement.  "Now you see, Kwisatz Haderach! You have helped me to achieve understanding along with you.  You have shortened my way, too."  Erasmus's flowmetal body shifted like a mechanical version of a Face Dancer, becoming again the wrinkled body of the kindly old woman.  "My long quest is complete.  At last, after thousands of years, I understand so much." He smiled.  "In fact, there is very little that interests me anymore."
     The old woman walked over to where the still-transfixed Paolo lay, staring blankly upward.  "This failed, ruined Kwisatz Haderach is an object lesson for me.  The boy paid the price of too much knowledge." Paolo's unblinking eyes seemed to be drying out.  He would probably wither away and starve to death, lost in the infinite maze of absolute prescience.  "I don't want to be bored.  So I ask you, Kwisatz Haderach, help me understand something I could never truly experience, the last fascinating aspect of humanity."
     "A demand?" Duncan asked. "Or a favor?"
     "A debt of honor." The old woman patted his sleeve with a gnarled hand. "You now epitomize the finest qualities of man and machine.  Allow me to do what only living beings can do. Guide me to my own death."
     Duncan had not foreseen this.  "You want to die? How can I help you do that?"
     The old woman shrugged her bony shoulders.  "All your lives and deaths have made you an expert on the matter.  Look inside yourself, and you'll know." 

... 

     "You want me to serve as a guide," Duncan said, "not just an executioner."
     "A fine way to put it, my friend.  I think you understand." The old woman looked at him, and now her smile held a hint of nervousness. "After all, Duncan Idaho, you have done this over and over again.  But this is my first time."
     Duncan touched her forehead. The skin was warm and dry.  "Whenever you're ready."
     The old woman sat on the stone steps.  Folding her hands in her lap, she closed her eyes.  "Do you suppose I will ever see Serena again?"
     "I can't answer that." With a mental command, Duncan activated one of the new codes he possessed.  From inside his own mind, reaching down to touch his own numerous death experiences, he showed Erasmus what he knew, even if he didn't entirely comprehend it himself.  He wasn't certain the ancient independent robot could follow.  Erasmus would have to make his own way.  He and Duncan parted, both of the traveling on utterly separate journeys.
     The aged body slumped quietly on the steps, and a long sigh flowed from the old woman's lips.  Her expression became utterly serene ... and then went completely motionless, with the eyes staring straight ahead.
     In death, the robot's human shape held.

(Sandworms of Dune, p. 499-502)