God Emperor of Dune (40 page)
On immediate reflection, the sensation of fury itself fascinated Leto. It had been so long since he had felt even mild anger. Frustration, irritation—these had been his limits. But now, at a threat to Hwi Noree, fury!
Reflection caused him to modify his initial command, but not before some Fish Speakers had raced from the Royal Presence, their most violent desires released by what they had seen in their Lord.
“God is furious!” some of them shouted.
The second blast caught some of the Fish Speakers emerging into the plaza, limiting the spread of Leto’s modified command and igniting more violence. The third explosion, located near the first one, sent Leto himself into action. He propelled his cart like a berserk juggernaut out of his resting chamber into the Ixian lift and surged to the surface.
Leto emerged at the edge of the plaza to find a scene of chaos lighted by thousands of free-floating glowglobes released by his Fish Speakers. The central stage of the plaza had been shattered, leaving only the plasteel base intact beneath the paved surface. Broken pieces of masonry lay all around, mixed with dead and wounded.
In the direction of the Ixian Embassy, directly across the plaza from him, there was a wild surging of combat.
“Where is my Duncan?” Leto bellowed.
A guard bashar came racing across the plaza to his side where she reported through panting breaths: “We have taken him to the Citadel, Lord!”
“What is happening over there?” Leto demanded, pointing at the battle outside the Ixian Embassy.
“The rebels and the Tleilaxu are attacking the Ixian Embassy, Lord. They have explosives.”
Even as she spoke, another blast erupted in front of the Embassy’s shattered facade. He saw bodies twisting in the air, arching outward and falling at the perimeter of a bright flash which left an orange afterimage, studded with black dots.
With no thought of consequences, Leto shifted his cart onto suspensors and sent it bulleting across the plaza—a hurtling behemoth which sucked glowglobes into its wake. At the battle’s edge, he arched over his own defenders and plunged into the attackers’ flank, aware only then of lasguns which sent livid blue arcs leaping toward him. He felt his cart thudding into flesh, scattering bodies all around.
The cart spilled him directly in front of the Embassy, rolling him off onto a hard surface as it struck the rubble there. He felt lasgun beams tickle his ribbed body, then the inner surge of heat followed by a venting belch of oxygen at his tail. Instinct tucked his face deep into its cowl and folded his arms into the protective depths of his front segment. The worm-body took over, arching and flailing, rolling like an insane wheel, lashing out on all sides.
Blood lubricated the street. Blood was buffered water to his body, but death released the water. His flailing body slipped and slithered in it, the water igniting blue smoke from every flexion place where it slipped through the sandtrout skin. This filled him with water-agony which ignited more violence in the great flailing body.
At Leto’s first lashing out, the Fish Speaker perimeter fell back. An alert bashar saw the opportunity now presented. She shouted above the battle noise:
“Pick off the stragglers!”
The ranks of guardian women rushed forward.
It was bloody play among the Fish Speakers for a few minutes, blades thrusting in the merciless light of the glowglobes, the dancing of lasgun arcs, even hands chopping and toes digging into vulnerable flesh. The Fish Speakers left no survivors.
Leto rolled beyond the bloody mush in front of the Embassy, barely able to think through the waves of water-agony. The air was heavy with oxygen all around him and this helped his human senses. He summoned his cart and it drifted toward him, tipping perilously on damaged suspensors. Slowly, he wriggled onto the tipping cart and gave it the mental command to return to his quarters beneath the plaza.
Long ago, he had prepared himself against water-damage—a room where blasts of superheated dry air would cleanse and restore him. Sand would serve but there was no place in the confines of Onn for the necessary expanse of sand in which he might heat and rasp his surface to its normal purity.
In the lift, he thought of Hwi and sent a message to have her brought down to him immediately.
If she survived.
He had no time now to make a prescient search; he could only hope while his body, both pre-worm and human, longed for the cleansing heat.
Once into the cleansing room, he thought to reaffirm his modified command—“Save some of the Face Dancers!” But by then the maddened Fish Speakers were spreading out through the City and he had not the strength to make a prescient sweep which would send his messengers to the proper meeting points.
A Guard captain brought him word as he was emerging from the cleansing room that Hwi Noree, although slightly wounded, was safe and would be brought to him as soon as the local commander thought it prudent.
Leto promoted the Guard captain to sub-bashar on the spot. She was a heavyset Nayla-type but without Nayla’s square face—features more rounded and closer to the older norms. She trembled in the warmth of her Lord’s approval and, when he told her to return and “make doubly certain” no more harm came to Hwi, she whirled and dashed from his presence.
I didn’t even ask her name
, Leto thought, as he rolled himself onto the new cart in the depression of his small audience room. It took a few moments of reflection to recall the new sub-bashar’s name—Kieuemo. The promotion would have to be reaffirmed. He lodged a mental reminder to do this personally. The Fish Speakers, all of them, would have to learn immediately how much he valued Hwi Noree. Not that there could be much doubt after tonight.
, Leto thought, as he rolled himself onto the new cart in the depression of his small audience room. It took a few moments of reflection to recall the new sub-bashar’s name—Kieuemo. The promotion would have to be reaffirmed. He lodged a mental reminder to do this personally. The Fish Speakers, all of them, would have to learn immediately how much he valued Hwi Noree. Not that there could be much doubt after tonight.
He made his prescient scan then and dispatched messengers to his rampaging Fish Speakers. By then the damage had been done—corpses all over Onn, some Face Dancers and some only-suspected Face Dancers.
And many have seen me kill
, he thought.
, he thought.
While he waited for Hwi’s arrival, he reviewed what had just happened. This had not been a typical Tleilaxu attack, but the previous attack on the road to Onn fitted into a new pattern, all of it pointing at a single mind with lethal purpose.
I could have died out there
, he thought.
, he thought.
That began to explain why he had not anticipated this attack, but there was a deeper reason. Leto could see that reason rising into his awareness, a summation of all the clues. What human knew the God Emperor best? What human possessed a secret place from which to conspire?
Malky!
Leto summoned a guard and told her to ask if the Reverend Mother Anteac had yet left Arrakis. The guard returned in a moment to report.
“Anteac is still in her quarters. The Commander of the Fish Speaker Guard there says they have not come under attack.”
“Send word to Anteac,” Leto said. “Ask if she now understands why I put her delegation in quarters at a distance from me. Then tell her that while she is on Ix she must locate Malky. She is to report that location to our local garrison on Ix.”
“Malky, the former Ixian Ambassador?”
“The same. He is not to remain alive and free. You will inform our garrison commander on Ix that she is to make close liaison with Anteac, providing every necessary assistance. Malky is to be brought here to me or executed, whichever our commander finds necessary.”
The guard-messenger nodded, shadows lurching across her features where she stood in the ring of light around Leto’s face. She did not ask for a repetition of the orders. Each of his close guards had been trained as a human-recorder. They could repeat Leto’s words exactly, even the intonations, and would never forget what they had heard him say.
When the messenger had gone, Leto sent a private signal of inquiry and, within seconds, had a response from Nayla. The Ixian device within his cart reproduced a nonidentifiable version of her voice, a flatly metallic recital for his ears alone.
Yes, Siona was at the Citadel. No, Siona had not contacted her rebel companions.
“No, she does not yet know that I am here observing her.”
The attack on the Embassy? That had been by a splinter group called “The Tleilaxu-Contact Element.”
“No, she does not yet know that I am here observing her.”
The attack on the Embassy? That had been by a splinter group called “The Tleilaxu-Contact Element.”
Leto allowed himself a mental sigh. Rebels always gave their groups such pretentious labels.
“Any survivors?” he asked.
“No known survivors.”
Leto found it amusing that, while the metallic voice provided no emotional tones, his memory supplied them.
“You will make contact with Siona,” he said. “Reveal that you are a Fish Speaker. Tell her you did not reveal this earlier because you knew she would not trust you and because you feared exposure since you are quite alone among Fish Speakers in your allegiance to Siona. Reaffirm your oath to her. Tell her that you swear
by all that you hold holy
to obey Siona in anything. If she commands it, you will do it. All of this is truth, as you well know.”
by all that you hold holy
to obey Siona in anything. If she commands it, you will do it. All of this is truth, as you well know.”
“Yes, Lord.”
Memory supplied the fanatic emphasis in Nayla’s response. She would obey.
“If possible, provide opportunities for Siona and Duncan Idaho to be alone together,” he said.
“Yes, Lord.”
Let propinquity take its usual course
, he thought.
, he thought.
He broke contact with Nayla, thought for a moment, then sent for the commander of his plaza forces. The bashar arrived presently, her dark uniform stained and dusty, evidence of gore still on her boots. She was a tall, bone-thin woman with age lines which gave her aquiline features an air of powerful dignity. Leto recalled her troop-name, Iylyo, which meant “
Dependable
” in Old Fremen. He called her, however, by her matronymic, Nyshae, “
Daughter of Shae
,” which set a tone of subtle intimacy for this meeting.
Dependable
” in Old Fremen. He called her, however, by her matronymic, Nyshae, “
Daughter of Shae
,” which set a tone of subtle intimacy for this meeting.
“Rest yourself on a cushion, Nyshae,” he said. “You have been working hard.”
“Thank you, Lord.”
She sank onto the red cushion which Hwi had used. Leto noted the fatigue lines around Nyshae’s mouth, but her eyes remained alert. She stared up at him, eager to hear his words.
“Matters are once more tranquil in my City.” He made it not quite a question, leaving the interpretation to Nyshae.
“Tranquil but not good, Lord.”
He glanced at the gore on her boots.
“The street in front of the Ixian Embassy?”
“It is being cleansed, Lord. Repairs already are under way.”
“The plaza?”
“By morning, it will appear as it has always appeared.”
Her gaze remained steady on his face. Both of them knew he had not yet reached the nubbin of this interview. But Leto now identified a thing lurking within Nyshae’s expression.
Pride in her Lord!
For the first time, she had seen the God Emperor kill. The seeds of a terrible dependency had been planted.
If disaster threatens, my Lord will come.
That was how it appeared in her eyes. She would no longer act with complete independence, taking her power from the God Emperor and being personally responsible for the use of that power. There was something possessive in her expression. A terrible death-machine waited in the wings, available at her summons.
If disaster threatens, my Lord will come.
That was how it appeared in her eyes. She would no longer act with complete independence, taking her power from the God Emperor and being personally responsible for the use of that power. There was something possessive in her expression. A terrible death-machine waited in the wings, available at her summons.
Leto did not like what he saw, but the damage had been done. Any remedies would require slow and subtle pressures.
“Where did the attackers get lasguns?” he asked.
“From our own stores, Lord. The Arsenal Guard has been replaced.”
Replaced.
It was a euphemism with a certain nicety. Errant Fish Speakers were isolated and reserved until Leto found a problem which required Death Commandos. They would die gladly, of course, believing that thus they expiated their sin. And even the rumor that such berserkers had been dispatched could quiet a trouble spot.
It was a euphemism with a certain nicety. Errant Fish Speakers were isolated and reserved until Leto found a problem which required Death Commandos. They would die gladly, of course, believing that thus they expiated their sin. And even the rumor that such berserkers had been dispatched could quiet a trouble spot.
“The arsenal was breached by explosives?” he asked.
“
Stealth
and explosives, Lord. The Arsenal Guard was careless.”
Stealth
and explosives, Lord. The Arsenal Guard was careless.”
“The source of the explosives?”
Some of Nyshae’s fatigue was visible in her shrug.
Leto could only agree. He knew he could search out and identify those sources, but it would serve little purpose. Resourceful people could always find the ingredients for homemade explosives—common things such as sugar and bleaches, quite ordinary oils and innocent fertilizers, plastics and solvents and extracts from the dirt beneath a manure pile. The list was virtually endless, growing with each addition to human experience and knowledge. Even a society such as the one he had created, one which tried to limit the admixture of technology and new ideas, had no real hope of totally eliminating dangerously violent small weapons. The whole idea of controlling such things was chimera, a dangerous and distracting myth. The key was to limit the
desire
for violence. In that respect, this night had been a disaster.
desire
for violence. In that respect, this night had been a disaster.
So much new injustice
, he thought.
, he thought.
As though she read his thought, Nyshae sighed.
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