Paul Of Dune Part 33

Shaddam rose from the crude throne. "Atomics? You would not dare."

Moritani's eyes flashed. "A Tantor Tantor would dare. The Tantors would dare. The Tantors did did dare, many centuries ago. When my ancestors were betrayed by Corrinos, backed into a corner and given no choice or chance for survival, they deployed all the atomics of their House and destroyed nearly all life on Salusa Secundus." dare, many centuries ago. When my ancestors were betrayed by Corrinos, backed into a corner and given no choice or chance for survival, they deployed all the atomics of their House and destroyed nearly all life on Salusa Secundus."

"Tantor?" Shaddam still sounded confused. "Was that their name? No matter. They were hunted down and killed, their bloodline ended and all traces expunged from Imperial history."

"Not all. Our survivors planted new seeds, and we reemerged, built ourselves up again, and became House Moritani. But now, our world is used up and my son Wolfram is dead - the end of our hopes for the future. We have nothing left, and neither will you, Shaddam Corrino. I knew you would come personally to intervene here." His hand was frozen over the controls, his fingers touching the activation contacts. "All my family atomics are here in Ritka, most of them placed by my Swordmaster in the catacombs beneath our feet. My fortress keep and all of Ritka will be turned into radioactive dust." He let out a long sigh that sounded like an exhalation of ecstasy. "I just wanted you to know before the final flash of glory. I have already dispersed records to Landsraad members. From this day forward, history will never forget the name of the House that brought down the Corrinos. Once and for all, it will be done."

All in the same instant, Shaddam shouted a command, and Sardaukar guards charged forward. But Paul saw that no one could intervene in time.

With his eyes closed and a serene smile on his face, the Viscount activated the touchpads.

A n.o.ble leader must be stern, while his heart and actions reflect fairness and justice. This holds true for an Emperor, a minor n.o.ble, or even a father.

-Principles of Leaders.h.i.+p, lecture by the PRINCESS IRULAN at the Arrakeen War College lecture by the PRINCESS IRULAN at the Arrakeen War College

Paul shouted to his father, trying to make contact one last time, but the incinerating flash did not come. Startled, Moritani stared down at the control panel that had just gone dim.

Duncan did not slow as he charged toward the writing desk, his sword upraised, but Hiih Resser interposed himself between Duncan and the Viscount. Instead of attacking Duncan, however, his former comrade held up his own blade in a gesture of surrender. "No need, Duncan. It's over."

Sardaukar collided with the Viscount, throwing him bodily to the floor and roughly dragging him away from the chair and the console. He thrashed and fought, but he was no match for the Emperor's elite soldiers.

Resser gave up his sword, extending it hilt-first to Duncan, speaking with sadness. "Honor does not know politics, only obedience. He was my n.o.ble master, and I swore my loyalty to him. But in this I could see no way to condone his action, so I took matters into my own hands."

"What did you do?" Duncan asked.

"I placed the atomics around the city, just as the Viscount ordered. I knew what he intended to do. But I could not allow him to trigger the warheads in the spectacular holocaust he planned. It would have been an unforgivable crime against the Emperor, the people of Grumman, and all of you, whom he has already wronged so greatly." He took a long breath, and his agitated expression relaxed slightly. "So I disabled the linkages."

Moritani screamed at him. "You betrayed me! You broke your blood oath!"

Resser turned to the Viscount. "No, my Lord. I swore to follow your commands, and more importantly I swore to protect you. I planted the atomics, just as you ordered. Then, by preventing you from killing yourself, all of these n.o.bles, and the Emperor himself, I saved your life and many more. My honor is intact."

"HEAR YE ALL," announced the Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV in a ponderous voice. "Heed our decision and our Imperial command."

Having moved his court back to his flags.h.i.+p, he sat now in his decadent jeweled robes on a portable simulacrum of the Lion Throne. His somber gaze swept the gathered n.o.bles, the prisoners, and the observers inside the metal-walled chamber. Shaddam sounded greatly important, as though the Grumman victory was solely his doing.

Feeling out of place, Paul stood beside his father, along with Duncan, Gurney, Archduke Armand, and Prince Rhombur, still in their formal attire.

Viscount Moritani, on the other hand, wore rumpled fur-lined robes, his hair disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, looking both wild and cunning. The man made Paul uneasy simply to look at him. Though he was a n.o.bleman, Hundro Moritani was carried into the Emperor's presence by Sardaukar, restrained in a stiff-backed metal chair that contrasted sharply with the flamboyant throne on which the Emperor sat. Moritani's arms were bound at the wrists by s.h.i.+gawire and his legs fastened to the chair. Putting a n.o.bleman in restraints was unheard of, but the Sardaukar chief of security had insisted on it.

House Atreides had a legitimate blood-grudge against the Viscount, as did Archduke Ecaz, but Paul was sure that Shaddam would give his own vengeance precedence. The remnants of the renegade House Tantor? How many people had suffered from this madman's hatred over an event that had occurred thousands of years earlier? How could anyone seek revenge after so long? Then again, the Atreides and the Harkonnens had hated each other for so many millennia that the reasons for their breach were almost lost in the distant blur of history.

Finally, looking weary yet oddly at peace, Hiih Resser stood by himself, like an island in the crowd. Shortly before the Emperor's meeting here, in a poignant gesture Resser had asked Duncan to give him his fighting knife; Duncan had offered it to him reluctantly. "You aren't going to do anything foolish, are you?"

The redheaded Swordmaster had hesitated for a long moment, then shook his head. "Not what you think, Duncan." Using the sharp point, he sliced the threads of the horsehead insignia patch on his collar, cut it free, and threw it to the floor. He then excised the rank marks from his shoulders and sleeves.

Now, seeing what his Swordmaster had done, the bound Viscount Moritani spat on the floor.

Commanding the attention of all inside the royal chamber of his flags.h.i.+p, the Emperor extended his jeweled staff of office and struck it on the deck with a great echoing report.

"Viscount Hundro Moritani, for your crimes there can be any number of punishments. Because you have explicitly acted against House Corrino and conspired to harm Our Imperial Person, I should order your immediate execution. However, considering the c.u.mulative consequences you must face, execution need not be the first of them." Shaddam's eyes glinted with anger and cruel humor. Moritani had been ordered not to speak, and threatened with a gag if he refused to obey.

"As a first and vital step, I hereby revoke all of your lands, t.i.tles, and possessions: your Grumman resources, buildings, subjects, CHOAM holdings, wealth, investments, and even your wardrobe." He smiled. "We will provide suitable clothing for you in the Imperial Prison on Kaitain. Fifty percent of your liquidated a.s.sets shall be given to the Throne.

"The remaining half" - Shaddam spread his empty hand in a benevolent gesture - "will be split among the other wronged Houses - Ecaz, Atreides, and Vernius, in proportion to the losses they suffered at your hands." He nodded to himself, satisfied with his munificence. But Paul noticed that his father had stiffened. Rhombur didn't look entirely pleased either, as if he considered it an insult to reap a monetary reward for aiding his friend.

Shaddam leaned back on his throne. "As for the planet Grumman and the siridar governors.h.i.+p, we present it as a new holding of House Ecaz. All of its planetary wealth and natural resources are now in your control. Archduke, you may exploit this world and profit from it."

Armand stood silent and stony. His response conveyed no joy. "Thank you, Sire." The mined-out planet - its lands barely fertile, its population poor, unhealthy, and exhausted - was no prize. It would be more of an albatross around Armand's neck than an a.s.set.

"Viscount Moritani, I reserve the right to order your execution at any time. However, in the spirit of harmony in the Imperium, I propose that you be delivered forthwith to Kaitain in a prison frigate, for trial in Landsraad court. Your fellow n.o.bles will decide your specific fate."

The Viscount snarled bitterly, unable to restrain himself further. "I look forward to speaking in my own defense. I am sure that you and the Landsraad n.o.bles will be most interested in what I have to say... given the proper forum. Never a.s.sume that even an Emperor knows everything that goes on in the Imperium."

Paul studied the defiant Grumman n.o.bleman - his mannerisms, expression, and tone of voice. He wore a cloak of madness, which made him difficult to read, but Paul detected neither bravado nor a bluff. Moritani did, indeed, have something more to say. Wheels within wheels, and another set within those.

Shaddam's eyes narrowed, a calculating expression. "We look forward to your testimony, although perhaps certain other Great Houses might not."

Paul looked at Duncan, recalling the encounter with Beast Rabban here on Grumman. At long last, Duke Leto actually gave a weary smile. No member of House Atreides would be disappointed if the Baron was found culpable in these heinous acts. Not only would House Moritani fall, but House Harkonnen could also be stripped. With luck, Baron Harkonnen would find himself in a cell next to Viscount Moritani.

The Emperor nodded in satisfaction. "My work here is done." He gestured dismissively toward the furious Viscount, clapped his hands, and announced a feast to celebrate the end of the War of a.s.sa.s.sins and the prevention of a much larger, interplanetary war.

Men who are fundamentally weak look upon threats as the ultimate expressions of power. Men who are truly powerful, however, view threats as yet another vulnerability.

-BARON VLADIMIR HARKONNEN, Advice for a.s.sa.s.sins Advice for a.s.sa.s.sins

The Baron was furious and went out of his way to let Rabban see it. He also felt strangely unsettled, but he carefully hid any sign of that from his blundering nephew.

Only two days earlier, he had received a terse, cryptic note signed by Duke Leto Atreides. "We trust your nephew Rabban is recovering from his sword wound. A pity we could not spend more time with him on Grumman."

The message offered no further explanation, and the Baron felt an ominous heaviness in his chest. So, Rabban had been identified. The Atreides Duke knew knew the Harkonnens were somehow involved in the conflict... though apparently he possessed no proof: otherwise the message would have been accompanied by a summons to the Landsraad Court. So, Leto simply wanted House Harkonnen to know that the Harkonnens were somehow involved in the conflict... though apparently he possessed no proof: otherwise the message would have been accompanied by a summons to the Landsraad Court. So, Leto simply wanted House Harkonnen to know that he he knew. knew.

Infuriating, yes, but no harm done. Let the Atreides stew over their inability to take action. If they dared declare kanly on such flimsy innuendo, then the Baron would play the wronged party.

This afternoon the Beast had finally made his way back to Giedi Prime, pushed past the household guards and presented himself to his uncle without delay. For all his considerable flaws, the man did have some good points. As one example, Rabban realized how much trouble he was in, and that his fate rested solely in the Baron's hands. That demonstrated at least minimal intelligence. Apparently, the rest of the disguised Harkonnen troops had been killed.

Looking breathless and disheveled, Rabban stood in the Baron's study. A bloodstained healing pad was secured to the side of his head, where a medic had also shaved some of his reddish hair short to treat the injury; it gave him a battered, off-balance appearance. A wound on his arm was tightly bound with healing tape. The sword cut Leto had alluded to?

"I tremble with antic.i.p.ation to learn of your adventures." The Baron's ba.s.so voice dripped sarcasm as he sat at his dark, richly carved desk. Feyd sauntered in, eager to hear of his older brother's escapades as well. The rangy young man glanced disdainfully at his muscular, thickheaded brother, who s.h.i.+fted his weight nervously from foot to foot. Feyd lounged on a divan where he could watch.

In abrupt sentences with occasional contradictions, Rabban explained that he had been stranded with murderous Grumman soldiers, all of whom wanted his head due to their own military failures, and how the entire division of disguised Harkonnen soldiers had either fallen into the battlefield pits or been slain by vengeful Moritani barbarians. He told how he had been chased by Atreides soldiers but escaped with only a minor wound. Then, after the Vernius s.h.i.+ps had arrived followed by the Imperial delegation, how he'd hidden in a warehouse and barely eluded capture.

His nephew wasn't entirely without resources or imagination. Nonetheless, the Baron's face darkened. "You were seen by Atreides soldiers. They recognized you."

"How do you -"

The Baron slammed a beefy fist on his desk, then showed him the message from Duke Leto. "Do you understand that if you had been caught, or if you left behind any evidence of Harkonnen involvement, we would find ourselves mired in an impossible crisis?"

Rabban stood his ground. "I left no evidence, Uncle. If the Atreides Duke had any proof, he would have sent more than that message."

The Baron smiled slightly, surprised at his nephew's perceptive response. Feyd let out a rude noise, but made no other comment.

Rabban continued, "Fortunately, the Emperor brought such an army of retainers and servants with him that I was able to kill one and take his uniform and identification. In the confusion of his crackdown in the Ritka fortress, I slipped in among them, flew back with the Imperial entourage, then got pa.s.sage back here."

Feyd said in his most annoying tone, "So, you can be clever after all!"

The quaver had left Rabban's voice and was replaced by confidence. "I thought I did rather well."

"You did well getting away. getting away. You did not do well at the task I a.s.signed you. Have you heard the Emperor's recent announcement?" You did not do well at the task I a.s.signed you. Have you heard the Emperor's recent announcement?"

"I heard that House Moritani has been stripped of its t.i.tle and planet."

"That isn't the important part," Feyd said, looking a little too knowledgeable. "Viscount Moritani was placed on a prison frigate bound for Kaitain so that he could be charged before a Landsraad Court. He vowed to testify and expose all his little secrets."

Rabban flushed red. "You mean he'll reveal his involvement with us?"

"Oh no, of course course not," the Baron said with treacly sarcasm. "Once he lost everything, his life on the line, and in total disgrace, we should expect the Viscount to keep our secrets because, after all, we're such good friends." He glowered at his nephew, and Rabban looked away. not," the Baron said with treacly sarcasm. "Once he lost everything, his life on the line, and in total disgrace, we should expect the Viscount to keep our secrets because, after all, we're such good friends." He glowered at his nephew, and Rabban looked away.

Rabban was a first-order thinker: To him, actions were concrete, standing by themselves. If he threw a rock into a pond, he didn't expect to see ripples. Rabban had his strengths, though the Baron rarely complimented him for them. He had various advantageous qualities. There were times when brute force was necessary, and Rabban had few peers in that arena. More important, he truly did not have any lofty ambitions. He wasn't devious enough to seize more responsibility. The Baron didn't have to fear a dagger in the back or poison in his drink from that nephew.

Feyd, on the other hand, had a sharp and nimble mind. It often darted from topic to topic, yet like a careful juggler, he never lost his grip on any one concept. Devious? Yes, perhaps. And for all his youth, he was already showing signs of impatience to be named the successor to House Harkonnen. The Baron didn't need to announce his decision yet, but Feyd... lovely Feyd was the future of House Harkonnen. The Baron could see that by watching the earnest expression on the young man's face, the shrewd eyes, the obvious eagerness to learn.

But could the young man be trusted?

"Moritani has no incentive to protect us," Feyd pointed out. "In fact, there is every reason for him to exaggerate our partic.i.p.ation."

Looking at Rabban, the Baron let his older nephew stew for a few moments, then eased the man's mind. "Fortunately, this is not a problem so great that it cannot be repaired. In fact, while you were taking your leisurely path back home, I set an alternative solution in motion."

Rabban looked almost childishly relieved that his uncle had a plan. He didn't even need to hear the Baron's explanation of what he had done, only the simple comment that things would be all right.

The Baron withdrew a doc.u.ment from his private desk, a slender filmpaper scroll. "This came from an official news courier, telling of a tragic and mysterious incident. The prison frigate transporting Viscount Moritani was in transit aboard a Guild Heighliner, berthed alongside other pa.s.senger s.h.i.+ps - even some leftover Imperial vessels withdrawing from Grumman. As you know, Heighliners do not pressurize their cargo holds. Alas, a freak accident depressurized several airlocks in the prison frigate and the Viscount was exposed to vacuum. I'm afraid he didn't survive long, and his body was found bloated and frozen. The expression on his face must have been quite hideous."

"And you arranged for this, Uncle?" Rabban said enthusiastically.

The Baron scowled at him.

Feyd snickered. "It was an accident." accident."

"You admire me, Feyd, I can tell," the Baron nodded. "Someday - though not anytime soon - you will be just like me."

Feyd's retort was quick and surprising. "But not so fat, I trust."

The greatest personality change in a young man's maturity occurs when he discovers that his own father is mortal, human, and fallible.

-The Life of Muad'Dib, Volume 2, by the PRINCESS IRULAN by the PRINCESS IRULAN

Over the nightside of Caladan, the Heighliner disgorged troop carriers and fighter craft, followed by the Atreides family frigate. Ever respectful of those who had fought so valiantly for him in the War of a.s.sa.s.sins, Duke Leto insisted on sending all of his soldiers home first.

With Paul sitting beside him near a wide observation window, Leto mused, "I look forward to seeing your mother again, especially after what we have just been through. She... she can make me feel alive again. Right now, I am too numb." Restless, the Duke stood, motioned for his son to follow, and strode down a corridor on the starboard side of the craft as the frigate descended into the atmosphere. They pa.s.sed a bank of portholes that showed the running lights of the Duke's escort s.h.i.+ps disappearing below.

"I understand how you feel, Father. I learned a great deal from what I experienced. Most of all, I hope I never have to see battle again."

"You may hope for that, but I fear it isn't likely. You are the son of a Duke. Even if you don't seek out conflict, it will find you."

The Atreides frigate broke through the last layers of cloud cover, enabling Paul to see the twinkling lights of coastal villages below and the bright target of the Cala City s.p.a.ceport. A capricious wind buffeted the descending s.h.i.+p, and Leto braced himself against the unexpected movement. The frigate bounced down through the edge of the storm. Peering through wind-driven rain, Paul caught glimpses of Castle Caladan and the first group of s.h.i.+ps already landing at the s.p.a.ceport, taking indicated positions like pieces on a large game board.

A large monitor screen on the bulkhead showed a tally of s.h.i.+ps, and each time one of the vessels set down safely, an amber blip turned green. The Duke fired instructions to his officers over the comline and received reports back from them. He was satisfied and relieved to see them all come safely home.

Their family frigate circled over the s.p.a.ceport, then swooped toward the main landing field. Through a starboard window Paul saw the windblown sea cras.h.i.+ng against the cliffs. Before sunset, the fis.h.i.+ng fleet had come back to harbor ahead of the storm, and even though the boats were lashed to their docks, they rocked heavily against the pilings. Paul knew the good people of Caladan could easily survive storms. There would always be rough weather, but that did not diminish their love for their planet.

The frigate made a b.u.mpy landing and taxied into a large hangar, where other landed s.h.i.+ps had already taken shelter. As Paul and his father disembarked and stepped onto a floor wet from rain running off the smooth hull, they found Lady Jessica already there waiting for them. Damp streaks in her bronze hair and speckles of water on her cloak showed that she had been caught in the downpour on her way to the hangar.

Eschewing formality, Leto pulled her close and kissed her gently. "I'm sorry you were caught in the storm."

"Just a little rain. Not so bad." They held each other, speaking little although Paul knew they had much to say to each other. During Leto's betrothal to Ilesa Ecaz, Jessica had been like a rudderless boat on the open sea. The wedding-day ma.s.sacre and the War of a.s.sa.s.sins had swept over their relations.h.i.+p like a rogue wave. Now, they both had decisions to make and damage to repair. Neither of them was the same as before.

Wrestling with his thoughts, Leto stared at her with his steely-gray eyes, while Jessica simply waited. Paul watched his parents until finally his father said, "There is no better time to say this, Jessica, and our son should hear it, too. I am weary of politics and feuds, and I will no longer entertain further proposals of marriage alliances from other n.o.ble Houses." He took her hands in his. "You are my one and only lady, my one and only love for all time. Though I cannot marry you, I will never agree to marry anyone else."

She seemed fl.u.s.tered. "You can't give me such a promise, Leto. You have to keep the other n.o.bles guessing. You must at least keep the option available, for I am only a bound concubine."

"My love, you are much more than that to me." Reaching over to Paul, he gathered the boy into his embrace. "And you are the mother of our son, the next Duke."

PART VII Emperor Muad'Dib 10,198 AG

Is there anything more deadly than innocence, anything more disarming?