Dune: House Atreides (83 page)

He's been there himself, Leto thought, and is concealing it. "Of course the Tleilaxu would try to establish a low number, Sire, in order to reduce reparations, if they are ever forced to pay them."

Leto went on to estimate the loss of Ixian life, and even commented on Elrood's unwarranted blood price for the death of the Lady Shando. Then, in an emotion-filled voice, he conjectured about the desperate plight of Earl Vernius, who remained in hiding on some unknown, distant world.

During an extended pause on his end of the conversation, Shaddam seethed. He desperately wondered how much this brash Duke truly knew about the Tleilaxu matter. There had been hints, nuances . . . but was he bluffing? As new Emperor, Shaddam needed to do something quickly, to keep the situation under control -- but he could never afford to allow House Vernius to return to its ancestral home. The Tleilaxu synthetic-spice research was vital and not easily moved. The Vernius family was an unfortunate casualty -- Shaddam didn't care about his father's stung pride or petty revenge -- but those people could not be rescued now, as if nothing had happened.

Finally the Emperor cleared his throat and said, "The best we can offer is limited amnesty. Since Rhombur and Kailea Vernius are in your personal care, Duke Leto, we grant them our full protection and pardon. From this day forth there shall be no price on their heads. They are absolved of any wrongdoing.

You have my guarantee on this."

Seeing a look of disbelieving exultation on the faces of the two exiled Ixians, Leto said, "Thank you, Sire, but what about reparations to the family fortunes?"

"No reparations!" Shaddam said in a much sterner tone than the Guildsman managed to duplicate. "And no restoration of House Vernius to its position on Xuttah, formerly Ix. Ah, yes. The Bene Tleilax have in fact presented extensive, conclusive documentation to me, and I am satisfied as to its veracity. For reasons of Imperial security I cannot divulge details. You have taxed my patience enough."

Irritated, Leto growled, "Any evidence that is denied scrutiny is no evidence at all, Sire. It should be presented before a court."

"What about my father and other surviving members of House Vernius?" Rhombur said into the microphone Leto had been using. "Can he have your amnesty as well, wherever he is? He's not hurting anybody."

Shaddam's response, directed at Leto, was swift and stinging, like the bite of a venomous serpent. "I've been lenient with you, Cousin -- but I caution you not to press your luck. If I weren't so favorably inclined toward you, personally, I would never have committed myself by testifying on your behalf, nor would I have granted this impromptu audience today -- or the concessions for your friends. Amnesty for the two children, and that is all."

Hearing the harsh relayed words, Leto reeled, but maintained his composure. It was clear he could not push Shaddam further.

"We suggest you accept these terms while we remain in a mood to grant them,"

Shaddam said. "At any moment additional evidence could be presented to me against House Vernius, causing me to judge them less kindly."

Away from the voice pickup, Leto conferred with Rhombur and Kailea.

Reluctantly, the siblings leaned toward acceptance. "At least we've won a small victory, Leto," Kailea said in her soft voice. "We'll have our lives, and our personal freedom -- if not our heritage. Besides, living here with you is not so terrible. Like Rhombur always says, we can make the best of things."

Rhombur put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "If that's good enough for Kailea, it'll be good enough for me."

"The bargain is sealed then," Shaddam said; their acceptance had been sent through the Guildlink intermediaries. "The official papers will be prepared."

Then his words became like razors. "And I expect never to hear of this matter again."

Abruptly, the Emperor ended the Guildlink, and the two separated Navigators broke their mental contact. Leto drew both Rhombur and Kailea into a hug, knowing that at last they both were safe.

Only fools leave witnesses.

I am going to miss Kaitain," Fenring said in an odd, somber tone. Within the day, he was scheduled to report to Arrakis as Shaddam's Imperial Observer.

Exiled into the desert! But Margot had told him to see the opportunities . . .

Fenring was good at that. Could the Emperor have more in mind than simple punishment? Could this be turned into a powerful position after all?

Fenring had grown up at the side of Shaddam, both of them more than two decades younger than Fafnir, the former heir apparent to the Golden Lion Throne. With an elder Crown Prince in place and a brood of daughters by his various wives, Elrood had not expected much from the junior Prince, and on the quiet suggestion of his Bene Gesserit mother, Fenring had been allowed to attend classes with him.

Over the years Fenring had made himself into an "expediter," a person willing to complete necessary tasks for his friend Shaddam, no matter how unpleasant they might be -- including the murder of Fafnir. The companions shared many dark secrets, too many for them to split up now without serious repercussions . . .

and both men knew it.

Shaddam owes me, dammit!

Given time to reconsider, the new Emperor would understand that he couldn't afford to have Fenring as an enemy, or even as a disgruntled Imperial servant.

Before long, Shaddam would summon him back from Arrakis. It was only a matter of time.

Somehow he would find a way to turn every circumstance to his advantage.

Lady Margot, whom he had married in a simple ceremony three days earlier, took command of the subchamberlains and unattached servants. Issuing orders with every breath, she created a whirlwind of packing and shipping. As a Bene Gesserit Sister, she had few needs and no extravagant tastes. But understanding the importance of trappings and public appearances, she arranged to send a cargo ship full of amenities, including House Corrino clothing and furniture, Imperial tableware, fine tapestries, and linens. Such possessions would increase her husband's standing in Arrakeen, where they would set up a private residence, many kilometers from the Harkonnen seat of power in Carthag. This show of independence and luxury would emphasize to the Harkonnen governors and their functionaries the power of Shaddam and his omnipresent watchful eyes.

Smiling, Fenring watched Margot go about her finishing tasks. She was a flow of bright colors and lovely honey-blonde hair, encouraging smiles, and sharp words for anyone who moved too slowly. What a magnificent woman! He and his new bride kept such fascinating secrets from each other, and the process of mutual discovery was proving most enjoyable.

By nightfall they would be dispatched to the desert planet, which the natives called Dune.

LATER IN THE day, during a relaxed hour in which neither the Emperor nor his lifelong friend would utter the apologies that needed to be said, Fenring sat at the shield-ball console, waiting for Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV to make the next move. They sat alone in a plaz-walled retiring room at the top of one of the Palace pinnacles. Flitter-thopters buzzed by in the distance, higher than ribbon-festooned kites and gleam-bubbles.

Fenring hummed to himself, though he knew Shaddam hated the mannerism. Finally, the new Emperor slid a rod through the shimmering shield at precisely the correct speed -- not too fast and not too slow. The aimed rod engaged a spinning interior disk, causing the black ball in the center of the globe to float into the air. Focusing hard, Shaddam yanked the rod free, and the ball plunked into the number "9" receptacle.

"You've been practicing, Sire, hm-m-m-m?" Fenring said. "Doesn't an Emperor have more pressing duties? But you'll need to do better than that to beat me."

The Emperor stared at the rod he had just used, as if it had failed him.

"You want to change sticks, Sire?" Fenring offered, in a taunting tone.

"Something wrong with that one?"

Shaddam shook his head stubbornly. "I'll stay with this one, Hasimir -- this will be our last game for some time." He drew a deep breath, flaring his nostrils. "I told you I could handle things on my own." He fumbled a bit.

"But that doesn't mean I no longer value your advice."

"Naturally, Sire. That's why you sent me to a dust pit populated by sandworms and unwashed barbarians." Dispassionately, he stared past the shield-ball at Shaddam. "I think it's a grave mistake, Highness. In these first days of your rule, you will require good, objective counsel more than ever before. You can't handle it alone, and whom can you trust more than me?"

"Well, I handled the Leto Atreides crisis rather well. I alone avoided disaster."

Delaying his turn at the shield-ball station, Fenring said, "I agree the result was favorable -- but we still haven't learned what he knows about us and the Tleilaxu."

"I didn't want to appear overly worried."

"Um-m-ah-m-m. Maybe you're right, but if you solved the problem, then tell me this: If not Leto, who really did fire on the Tleilaxu ships? And how?"

"I'm considering alternatives."

Fenring's overlarge eyes flashed. "Leto is incredibly popular now, perhaps even a threat to your throne one day. Whether he engineered the crisis or not, Duke Atreides has turned it into an undeniable victory for himself and the honor of his House. He overcame an insurmountable obstacle and behaved with marvelous grace. The members of the Landsraad notice things like that."

"Ah yes, true, true . . . but nothing to worry about."

"I'm not so certain, Sire. The discontent among the Houses might not have dissipated entirely, as we were led to believe."

"We do have the Bene Gesserit on our side, thanks to my wife."

Fenring sniffed. "Whom you married at my suggestion, Sire -- but just because the witches say a thing, does not make it true. And what if the alliance isn't sufficient?"

"What do you mean?" Shaddam slid back from the game station and impatiently motioned for Fenring to take his turn.

"Think about Duke Leto, how unpredictable he is. Maybe he's setting up secret military alliances for an assault on Kaitain. His tremendous acclaim translates into bargaining power for him, and he's obviously ambitious. Leaders of Great Houses are eager to talk with him now. You, on the other hand, have no such popular basis of support."

"I have my Sardaukar." But creases of doubt crept into the Emperor's face.

"Watch your legions to make certain they aren't infiltrated. I'm going to be away on Arrakis, and I worry about such things. I know you said you could handle it all yourself, and I believe you. I'm just giving you my best advice -

- as I always have, Sire."

"I appreciate that, Hasimir. But I cannot believe my cousin Leto created the Heighliner crisis in order to achieve this particular end. It was too clumsy, too risky. He couldn't have known I'd testify for him."

"He knew you'd do something, once you learned he had secret information."

Shaddam shook his head. "No. The potential for failure was enormous. He nearly lost his family's entire holdings."

Fenring held out a long finger. "But consider the potential glory he reaped, hm-m-m-m? For proof, just look at what has happened to him in the meantime. I doubt he could have planned it this way, but Leto's a hero now. His people love him, all the nobles admire him -- and the Tleilaxu have been made to look like whining fools. I'd suggest, Sire -- since you insist on doing this alone --that you keep a careful eye on the ambitions of House Atreides."

"Thank you for your advice, Hasimir," Shaddam said, turning back to study the game console. "Oh, by the way, did I mention that I'm . . . promoting you?"

Fenring gave a quiet snort. "I wouldn't exactly call the Arrakis assignment a promotion. 'Imperial Observer' doesn't sound terribly exalted, does it?"

Shaddam smiled and raised his chin in a very Imperial gesture. He had intended to do this all along. "Ah, yes . . . but how does Count Fenring sound?"

Fenring was taken aback. "You're . . . making me a Count?"

Shaddam nodded. "Count Hasimir Fenring, Imperial Observer assigned to Arrakis.

Your family fortunes are improving, my friend. Eventually, we'll see about establishing you in the Landsraad."

"With a CHOAM directorship, as well?"

Shaddam laughed. "All in good time, Hasimir."

"That makes Margot a Countess, I presume?" His large eyes glittered as Shaddam nodded to him. He tried to hold his pleasure inside, but the Emperor could see it clearly on his face.

"And now I'll tell you why this is such a critically important assignment, for you and for the Imperium. Do you remember a man named Pardot Kynes -- the Planetologist my father stationed there several years ago?"

"Of course."

"Well, he hasn't been much help lately. A few erratic reports, incomplete and seemingly censored. One of my spies even sent word that Kynes has grown too close to the Fremen, that he may have crossed the line and become one of them.

Gone native."

Fenring's eyebrows arched. "An Imperial servant mixing with that nasty, primitive brood?"

"I hope not, but I'd like you to uncover the truth. In essence, I'm making you my Imperial Spice Czar, secretly overseeing the melange operations on Arrakis as well as the progress of our synthetic-spice experiments on Xuttah. You'll shuttle back and forth between those planets and the Imperial Palace. You will transmit only coded messages, and only to me."

As the magnitude of the task and its repercussions sank in, Fenring felt a renewed fervor that burned away his discontent. Yes, he did see the possibilities now. He couldn't wait to tell Margot -- with her Bene Gesserit mind, she would no doubt see additional advantages.

"That sounds provocative, Sire. A challenge worthy of my particular talents.

Um-m-m-m, I might actually enjoy it."

Turning back to the game, Fenring engaged the spinning interior disk and guided the floating shield-ball. It dropped into the number "8" receptacle.