Dune (3 page)

A smile touched Piter’s lips. ”And to think. Baron: the Padishah Emperor
believes he’s given the Duke your spice planet. How poignant.“

”That’s a nonsensical statement,“ the Baron rumbled. ”You say this to
confuse young Feyd-?Rautha, but it is not necessary to confuse my nephew.“

The sullen-?faced youth stirred in his chair, smoothed a wrinkle in the black
leotards he wore. He sat upright as a discreet tapping sounded at the door in
the wall behind him.

Piter unfolded from his chair, crossed to the door, cracked it wide enough
to accept a message cylinder. He closed the door, unrolled the cylinder and
scanned it. A chuckle sounded from him. Another.

”Well?“ the Baron demanded.

”The fool answered us, Baron!“

”Whenever did an Atreides refuse the opportunity for a gesture?“ the Baron
asked. ”Well, what does he say?“

”He’s most uncouth, Baron. Addresses you as ‘Harkonnen’ — no ‘Sire et Cher
Cousin,’ no title, nothing.“

”It’s a good name,“ the Baron growled, and his voice betrayed his
impatience. ”What does dear Leto say?“

”He says: ‘Your offer of a meeting is refused. I have ofttimes met your
treachery and this all men know.’ “

”And?“ the Baron asked.

”He says: ‘The art of kanly still has admirers in the Empire.’ He signs it:
‘Duke Leto of Arrakis.’ “ Piter began to laugh. ”Of Arrakis! Oh, my! This is
almost too rich!“

”Be silent, Piter,“ the Baron said, and the laughter stopped as though shut
off with a switch. ”Kanly, is it?“ the Baron asked. ”Vendetta, heh? And he uses
the nice old word so rich in tradition to be sure I know he means it.“

”You made the peace gesture,“ Piter said. ”The forms have been obeyed.“

”For a Mentat, you talk too much, Piter,“ the Baron said. And he thought: I
must do away with that one soon. He has almost outlived his usefulness. The
Baron stared across the room at his Mental assassin, seeing the feature about
him that most people noticed first: the eyes, the shaded slits of blue within
blue, the eyes without any white in them at all.

A grin flashed across Piter’s face. It was like a mask grimace beneath those
eyes like holes. ”But, Baron! Never has revenge been more beautiful. It is to
see a plan of the most exquisite treachery: to make Leto exchange Caladan for
Dune — and without alternative because the Emperor orders it. How waggish of
you!“

In a cold voice, the Baron said: ”You have a flux of the mouth, Piter.“

”But I am happy, my Baron. Whereas you . . . you are touched by jealousy.“

”Piter!“

”Ah-?ah. Baron! Is it not regrettable you were unable to devise this
delicious scheme by yourself?“

”Someday I will have you strangled, Piter.“

”Of a certainty, Baron. Enfin! But a kind act is never lost, eh?“

”Have you been chewing verite or semuta, Piter?“

”Truth without fear surprises the Baron,“ Piter said. His face drew down
into a caricature of a frowning mask. ”Ah, hah! But you see, Baron, I know as a
Mentat when you will send the executioner. You will hold back just so long as I
am useful. To move sooner would be wasteful and I’m yet of much use. I know what
it is you learned from that lovely Dune planet — waste not. True, Baron?”

The Baron continued to stare at Piter.
Feyd-?Rautha squirmed in his chair. These wrangling fools! he thought. My
uncle cannot talk to his Mental without arguing. Do they think I’ve nothing to
do except listen their arguments?

“Feyd,” the Baron said. “I told you to listen and learn when I invited you
in here. Are you learning?”

“Yes, Uncle.” the voice was carefully subservient.

“Sometimes I wonder about Piter,” the Baron said. “I cause pain out of
necessity, but he . . . I swear he takes a positive delight in it. For myself, I
can feel pity toward the poor Duke Leto. Dr. Yueh will move against him soon,
and that’ll be the end of all the Atreides. But surely Leto will know whose hand
directed the pliant doctor . . . and knowing that will be a terrible thing.”

“Then why haven’t you directed the doctor to slip a kindjal between his ribs
quietly and efficiently?” Piter asked. “You talk of pity, but –”

“The Duke must know when I encompass his doom,” the Baron said. “And the
other Great Houses must learn of it. The knowledge will give them pause. I’ll
gain a bit more room to maneuver. The necessity is obvious, but I don’t have to
like it.”

“Room to maneuver,” Piter sneered. “Already you have the Emperor’s eyes on
you, Baron. You move too boldly. One day the Emperor will send a legion or two
of his Sardaukar down here onto Giedi Prime and that’ll be an end to the Baron
Vladimir Harkonnen.”

“You’d like to see that, wouldn’t you, Piter?” the Baron asked. “You’d enjoy
seeing the Corps of Sardaukar pillage through my cities and sack this castle.
You’d truly enjoy that.”

“Does the Baron need to ask?” Piter whispered.

“You should’ve been a Bashar of the Corps,” the Baron said. “You’re too
interested in blood and pain. Perhaps I was too quick with my promise of the
spoils of Arrakis.”

Piter took five curiously mincing steps into the room, stopped directly
behind Feyd-?Rautha. There was a tight air of tension in the room, and the youth
looked up at Piter with a worried frown.

“Do not toy with Piter, Baron,” Piter said. “You promised me the Lady
Jessica. You promised her to me.”

“For what, Piter?” the Baron asked. “For pain?”

Piter stared at him, dragging out the silence.

Feyd-?Rautha moved his suspensor chair to one side, said: “Uncle, do I have
to stay? You said you’d –”

“My darling Feyd-?Rautha grows impatient,” the Baron said. He moved within
the shadows beside the globe. “Patience, Feyd.” And he turned his attention back
to the Mentat. “What of the Dukeling, the child Paul, my dear Piter?”

“The trap will bring him to you, Baron,” Piter muttered.

“That’s not my question,” the Baron said. “You’ll recall that you predicted
the Bene Gesserit witch would bear a daughter to the Duke. You were wrong, eh,
Mentat?”

“I’m not often wrong, Baron,” Piter said, and for the first time there was
fear in his voice. “Give me that: I’m not often wrong. And you know yourself
these Bene Gesserit bear mostly daughters. Even the Emperor’s consort had
produced only females.”

“Uncle,” said Feyd-?Rautha, “you said there’d be something important here for
me to –”

“Listen to my nephew,” the Baron said. “He aspires to rule my Barony, yet he
cannot rule himself.” The Baron stirred beside the globe, a shadow among
shadows. “Well then, Feyd-?Rautha Harkonnen, I summoned you here hoping to teach
you a bit of wisdom. Have you observed our good Mentat? You should’ve learned
something from this exchange.”

“But, Uncle –”

“A most efficient Mentat, Piter, wouldn’t you say, Feyd?”
“Yes, but –”

“Ah! Indeed but! But he consumes too much spice, eats it like candy. Look at
his eyes! He might’ve come directly from the Arrakeen labor pool. Efficient,
Piter, but he’s still emotional and prone to passionate outbursts. Efficient,
Piter, but he still can err.”

Piter spoke in a low, sullen tone: “Did you call me in here to impair my
efficiency with criticism, Baron?”

“Impair your efficiency? You know me better, Piter. I wish only for my
nephew to understand the limitations of a Mentat.”

“Are you already training my replacement?” Piter demanded.

“Replace you? Why, Piter, where could I find another Mentat with your
cunning and venom?”

“The same place you found me, Baron.”

“Perhaps I should at that,” the Baron mused. “You do seem a bit unstable
lately. And the spice you eat!”

“Are my pleasures too expensive, Baron? Do you object to them?”

“My dear Piter, your pleasures are what tie you to me. How could I object to
that? I merely wish my nephew to observe this about you.”

“Then I’m on display,” Piter said. “Shall I dance? Shall I perform my
various functions for the eminent Feyd-?Rau-”

“Precisely,” the Baron said. “You are on display. Now, be silent.” He
glanced at Feyd-?Rautha, noting his nephew’s lips, the full and pouting look of
them, the Harkonnen genetic marker, now twisted slightly in amusement. “This is
a Mentat, Feyd. It has been trained and conditioned to perform certain duties.
The fact that it’s encased in a human body, however, must not be overlooked. A
serious drawback, that. I sometimes think the ancients with their thinking
machines had the right idea.”

“They were toys compared to me,” Piter snarled. “You yourself, Baron, could
outperform those machines.”

“Perhaps,” the Baron said. “Ah, well . . . ” He took a deep breath, belched.
“Now, Piter, outline for my nephew the salient features of our campaign against
the House of Atreides. Function as a Mentat for us, if you please.”

“Baron, I’ve warned you not to trust one so young with this information. My
observations of –”

“I’ll be the judge of this,” the Baron said. “I give you an order, Mentat.
Perform one of your various functions.”

“So be it,” Piter said. He straightened, assuming an odd attitude of dignity
– as though it were another mask, but this time clothing his entire body. “In a
few days Standard, the entire household of the Duke Leto will embark on a
Spacing Guild liner for Arrakis. The Guild will deposit them at the city of
Arrakeen rather than at our city of Carthag. The Duke’s Mentat, Thufir Hawat,
will have concluded rightly that Arrakeen is easier to defend.”

“Listen carefully, Feyd,” the Baron said. “Observe the plans within plans
within plans.”

Feyd-?Rautha nodded, thinking: This is more like it. The old monster is
letting me in on secret things at last. He must really mean for me to be his
heir.

“There are several tangential possibilities,” Piter said. “I indicate that
House Atreides will go to Arrakis. We must not, however, ignore the possibility
the Duke has contracted with the Guild to remove him to a place of safety
outside the System. Others in like circumstances have become renegade Houses,
taking family atomics and shields and fleeing beyond the Imperium.”

“The Duke’s too proud a man for that,” the Baron said.

“It is a possibility,” Piter said. “The ultimate effect for us would be the
same, however.”

“No, it would not!” the Baron growled. “I must have him dead and his line
ended.”
“That’s the high probability,” Piter said. “There are certain preparations
that indicate when a House is going renegade. The Duke appears to be doing none
of these things.”

“So,” the Baron sighed. “Get on with it, Piter.”

“At Arrakeen,” Piter said, “the Duke and his family will occupy the
Residency, lately the home of Count and Lady Fenring.”

“The Ambassador to the Smugglers,” the Baron chuckled.

“Ambassador to what?” Feyd-?Rautha asked.

“Your uncle makes a joke,” Piter said. “He calls Count Fenring Ambassador to
the Smugglers, indicating the Emperor’s interest in smuggling operations on
Arrakis.”

Feyd-?Rautha turned a puzzled stare on his uncle. “Why?”

“Don’t be dense, Feyd,” the Baron snapped. “As long as the Guild remains
effectively outside Imperial control, how could it be otherwise? How else could
spies and assassins move about?”

Feyd-?Rautha’s mouth made a soundless “Oh-?h-?h-?h.”

“We’ve arranged diversions at the Residency,” Piter said. “There’ll be an
attempt on the life of the Atreides heir — an attempt which could succeed.”

“Piter,” the Baron rumbled, “you indicated –”

“I indicated accidents can happen,” Piter said. “And the attempt must appear
valid.”

“Ah, but the lad has such a sweet young body,” the Baron said. “Of course,
he’s potentially more dangerous than the father . . . with that witch mother
training him. Accursed woman! Ah, well, please continue, Piter.”

“Hawat will have divined that we have an agent planted on him,” Piter said.
“The obvious suspect is Dr. Yueh, who is indeed our agent. But Hawat has
investigated and found that our doctor is a Suk School graduate with Imperial
Conditioning — supposedly safe enough to minister even to the Emperor. Great
store is set on Imperial Conditioning. It’s assumed that ultimate conditioning
cannot be removed without killing the subject. However, as someone once
observed, given the right lever you can move a planet. We found the lever that
moved the doctor.”

“How?” Feyd-?Rautha asked. He found this a fascinating subject. Everyone knew
you couldn’t subvert Imperial Conditioning!

“Another time,” the Baron said. “Continue, Piter.”

“In place of Yueh,” Piter said, “we’ll drag a most interesting suspect
across Hawat’s path. The very audacity of this suspect will recommend her to
Hawat’s attention.”

“Her?” Feyd-?Rautha asked.

“The Lady Jessica herself,” the Baron said.

“Is it not sublime?” Piter asked. “Hawat’s mind will be so filled with this
prospect it’ll impair his function as a Mentat. He may even try to kill her.”
Piter frowned, then: “But I don’t think he’ll be able to carry it off.”

“You don’t want him to, eh?” the Baron asked.

“Don’t distract me,” Piter said. “While Hawat’s occupied with the Lady
Jessica, we’ll divert him further with uprisings in a few garrison towns and the
like. These will be put down. The Duke must believe he’s gaining a measure of
security. Then, when the moment is ripe, we’ll signal Yueh and move in with our
major force . . . ah . . . ”

“Go ahead, tell him all of it,” the Baron said.

“We’ll move in strengthened by two legions of Sardaukar disguised in
Harkonnen livery.”

“Sardaukar!” Feyd-?Rautha breathed. His mind focused on the dread Imperial
troops, the killers without mercy, the soldier fanatics of the Padishah Emperor.

“You see how I trust you, Feyd,” the Baron said. “No hint of this must ever
reach another Great House, else the Landsraad might unite against the Imperial
House and there’d be chaos.”
“The main point,” Piter said, “is this: since House Harkonnen is being used
to do the Imperial dirty work, we’ve gained a true advantage. It’s a dangerous
advantage, to be sure, but if used cautiously, will bring House Harkonnen
greater wealth than that of any other House in the Imperium.”