Road to Dune (27 page)

With a mounting sense of foreboding, Yueh found Dorothy Mapes in a small room. Although her face was red, her mouth drawn, and her chest heaving as if she was shouting, he could not hear a sound. Her hands were pressed against an unseen barrier that separated them, and her eyes held the same panic that he himself felt.

Dorothy pointed urgently at something to the doctor’s right, a control panel on the wall. Yueh began pressing the buttons, entering release codes. Suddenly the silence melted away, and he heard Dorothy scream her son’s name. “Barri!”

With the containment field released, she fell forward onto the floor, then scrambled to her feet and ran toward the large central room. “Let’s go! Barri, come with me—now!”

The boy’s expression fell. “Mother! I’m close to winning!” He kept playing feverishly.

Yueh grabbed Barri and jerked him away from the machine. “We need to get off the ship! After they ordered me to stay aboard, I saw the Emperor and Valdemar Hoskanner fleeing the yacht. Oh, something terrible is going to happen!”

“They’re trying to assassinate my son!” Dorothy said, as they hurried into the corridor. “He’s the heir to House Linkam, and they want him out of the way. When I overheard them, Bauers sealed me in the cell.”

Reaching one of the small emergency hatches, they unsealed it and dropped more than a meter to the landing field. Barri stumbled to his knees, but the old doctor helped him up, and the three of them kept going. They ran at breakneck speed across the hot armorpave surface, terrified they would be seen, and shot.

Yueh raced around to the side of a small terminal. Under an overhang behind the building, he husked, “Get down! Maybe they won’t see us.” He pressed Dorothy and her son into the shelter and huddled beside them.

“I don’t see any guards at all,” Dorothy said.

A huge explosion cracked the air, and pieces of the Emperor’s yacht rained from the sky. Yueh heard fragments pelting the overhang above them, and the thunk-thunk of debris striking the ground.

Barri and Dorothy wanted to flee, but the doctor held them back. “We must stay here and hide, exercising more caution than ever. Our only advantage right now is to let them think they’ve succeeded.”

JESSE STOOD IN the sunlit high tower, his heart and thoughts hardened by grief. The cataclysm had been too sudden, and the immensity of his personal loss had not yet sunk in. During the aftermath he’d tried to keep going, to stay on the course he had set even before knowing the addictive nature of melange.

Now, more than ever, he was willing to do what must be done. He would participate in an Imperial system he hated, playing politics in order to make his enemies squirm, and in the process he would become more and more like them. Back when his secret spice hoard had started mounting every day, along with the conviction that he might actually win the challenge, Jesse had begun to experience a feeling of raw power. It had been heady territory.

And as the reality of losing Barri and Dorothy became inescapable, he concluded that neither his melange stockpile, nor victory in the challenge, nor that feeling of power mattered. Instead, he felt like a beaten man whose only future lay in an empty victory.

The Grand Emperor had offered him a deal, pretending that a hefty reward and continuing control of the spice industry somehow made up for the deaths of Barri and Dorothy. The Emperor thought he’d won, considered himself safe and secure again now that he’d blamed and ruined Valdemar Hoskanner. And Jesse had implied that would be good enough.

Now he felt ill about it.

Opening the moisture-sealed door, he stepped out into the hot, desiccated air on the high balcony. From there, he could use a long-distance transceiver to reach Gurney Halleck, who still waited at the spice stockpile silos, and General Tuek, whose men remained ready at the spice fields with their remote detonation devices on atomic warheads. Neither of them would question any decision Jesse might make.

He depressed the activation button on the communicator. “Gurney, Esmar—I need you to be strong. I need you to do what must be done.”

The two men quickly acknowledged, waiting for explicit orders from the nobleman. With a single command, Jesse could obliterate a year’s worth of spice production and contaminate the richest melange fields for centuries, perhaps even destroy the spice cycle of the planet. The nobles, the addicts, the hedonists would all die from horrible withdrawal, and the Emperor could shrivel along with them all. If Dr. Haynes was right, the Empire itself could crumble—and Jesse didn’t give a damn.

For him, everything had vanished in the single blast aboard the Emperor’s yacht.

In front of him on the high balcony, the drop to the tangled streets of Carthage seemed hypnotic. With one easy step, he could plunge over the edge. Noble House Linkam had been doomed from the moment Valdemar had offered the challenge. How had he ever imagined he could stand against such forces?

“Gurney, the booby traps on the stockpiles. I want you to—”

Something caught his eye far below: Three bedraggled forms hurried furtively toward the front entrance of the mansion, as if seeking safety inside. It looked like an old man and two smaller figures.

Jesse’s hands gripped the railing, and he lost sight of them as they slipped into the mansion through a discreet servants’ entrance.

“My Lord?” Gurney’s voice sounded very worried. “What should I do? Do you really want me to—”

“Gurney, stand by!” He looked down again, squinting, feeling his heart pound in his chest and cursing himself for so easily leaping at even a ridiculous thread of hope. He ran back inside and shouted for the house guards.

IN THE RECEPTION hall, a shamefaced Dr. Yueh stood before Jesse Linkam. His eyes downcast, the household surgeon revealed his role in the kidnapping plot and proclaimed Dorothy’s innocence. Though the old doctor offered no excuses, the concubine spoke on his behalf, explaining how the Hoskanners had imprisoned and tortured Yueh’s wife in order to force his betrayal, and how Yueh had saved them.

Now, Jesse knew that the defeated and disgraced Hoskanners would strike out in vengeful fury before they turned their holdings over to House Linkam. Since the Hoskanners believed the household traitor to be dead in the explosion, Wanna Yueh was no longer of any use to them. With a sinking sensation, Jesse felt sure that Valdemar Hoskanner had already killed the poor woman, and not swiftly or painlessly.

The distraught surgeon said, “I have completed my pledge to your concubine, though that does not make up for my disgraceful deeds. Oh, even Wanna would never have agreed with what I did.”

Jesse said in a steady voice, “I have always considered you a decent man, Cullington. You betrayed me and my family … but if not through you, my enemies would have found some other way to destroy me. Despite the unconscionable things you did, still my family is alive because of you. I will never forget that you abandoned your loyalty to House Linkam. But I grant you your life.”

Yueh kept his gaze down. Tears streamed down the old man’s face. “I thank you, My Lord, but no one will grant my Wanna her life. So in the end I gained nothing by betraying you.”

Placing a hand on Yueh’s shoulder, Jesse said, “Redemption will come for both of us. I promise you that.”

35

Wealth and power are the great dividers of men. Those who attain them are not always the victors.

—NOBLEMAN JESSE LINKAM

J
esse waited, but he did not forgive.

Grand Emperor Inton Wuda was a survivor of the highest order, in possession of skills that seemed ingrained into his Imperial lineage. In the aftermath of the thwarted plot, he shifted any shadow of blame away from himself. Jesse did not believe the man for an instant, but he held his tongue. He observed warily, while keeping his family and himself safe.

All culpability for the “spice crisis” conveniently fell on the shoulders of Valdemar Hoskanner and his closest allies. All Hoskanner wealth was stripped away and transferred to House Linkam, as Ulla Bauers had promised, on behalf of the Emperor. The disgraced Hoskanners were left even worse off than William English’s grandfather had been.

And the Emperor’s “indignant revenge” didn’t end there. A pair of unpopular heads of smaller Noble Houses were blamed for starting spice riots on various planets, and their holdings were forfeited to him. Interestingly, their confiscated wealth slightly exceeded what the Linkams received from the dissolution of House Hoskanner.

As a show of good faith, Counselor Bauers offered to take General Tuek on a tour of all levels of the inspection ship. In arranging the visit, the security chief had played the role of a curious aficionado, telling Bauers that House Linkam might use its newfound wealth to build a fleet of such vessels to transport melange cargoes across space. After seeing the interior of the huge ship, the old veteran was relieved to report to Jesse that none of the suspected massed troops were hidden there after all. The vessel’s sheer size was apparently only for the purpose of intimidation.

Jesse maintained his distance from the Grand Emperor, as one would from a contagious plague victim. At first, he had thought the pale and overweight leader was an easily manipulated fool, but now he realized how easily Wuda discarded anyone who no longer served his purposes. No doubt, Valdemar Hoskanner had thought the Emperor was wrapped around his finger, and now he’d been ruined. Wuda was the ultimate fair-weather friend. No matter what rewards or promises the Emperor offered, Jesse would never trust him. Never.

For weeks, while representatives wrapped up details of the new agreement, the Emperor remained aboard the inspection ship, which became something of a temporary Imperial capital. He summoned noblemen from far and wide, but Jesse felt little forgiveness toward them, either. Still angry with many of the nobles for forcing him to be their champion and then abandoning him when he needed their help and finances, he pointedly did not invite any of them into the headquarters mansion. Instead, they stayed in improvised guest quarters on the inspection ship and around Carthage, all of them looking hungry for more and more spice.

The noblemen who had provided loans at usurious rates were paid in full, and then turned away from Duneworld; Jesse had silently vowed not to do business with them again. On the other hand, the three poor families who had gambled on House Linkam, by lending all the money they could afford, were well rewarded. Jesse intended to let them participate in some of the spice operations and profits.

In a new agreement hammered out by the Emperor’s lawyers, House Linkam would be paid extremely well for managing the melange operations. But when Dorothy led him through the intricacies of the complicated profit-sharing formula, Jesse was not surprised to see that the Grand Emperor’s coffers would receive at least twice as much as House Linkam. Even so, the tally for each of them was enormous.

The newfound melange wealth would be more than sufficient to repair all the financial damage that generations of mismanagement had inflicted on House Linkam, while making the family business impregnable. However, Jesse intended to measure success by his own sense of justice, not by mere economic standards.

WHEN THE GRAND Emperor asked to come to dinner at the mansion, Jesse could not turn the man down, nor could he object to his bringing Counselor Bauers along. So one evening, by arrangement, Wuda and his companion swept into the great house with a contingent of personal guards. Leaving the guards out in the corridor, the pair were led by a uniformed servant into the banquet hall.

Already seated for the meal, Jesse gave Dorothy a tight-lipped smile across the long table. They had assumed their customary places of honor, despite the imminent arrival of the important visitors. The Emperor and his man were shown to secondary seats, which displeased each of them, from the downturned expressions on their faces. Still, they said nothing, and smiled when Jesse rose to his feet and greeted them. At the same time, Dorothy stood and bowed stiffly.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Jesse said, and promptly sat back down, as did his concubine. Both of them felt very uncomfortable being in the same room with the shiftless Imperial leader and his equally untrustworthy inspector.

A procession of serving women carried in steaming plates of rock pheasant, along with side dishes. This fowl had become a favorite of Jesse’s—at least, as far as desert fare went. They were small birds, so it took three of them to fill each plate. But they were quite succulent, and much enhanced by one of the chef’s Catalan recipes.

As the diners ate, hardly a word was spoken. Despite wanting to be civil to these influential men, Jesse was not really in any mood for chitchat, not after all he had been put through. Besides, it seemed to him that Wuda had invited himself, so he should be the one to select the topic of conversation. The four of them exchanged uncomfortable glances around the table, while servants looked on, obviously ill at ease themselves.

When they finished the main course and the plates were taken away, the Grand Emperor said, “There is one final matter of pressing importance. My prosecutors have completed a criminal investigation, and I have decided on appropriate punishments.” Reaching for a silver goblet of spice wine, he gazed dispassionately around the table, and took a sip.

Jesse’s pulse accelerated as the withering Imperial gaze settled upon him. He wondered if the corpulent leader had found a legal way to break their bargain after all. “Oh?”

The Emperor raised his free hand, and his personal guard contingent left their stations out in the corridor and entered the hall. Six armed men with projectile weapons slung over their shoulders took up positions around the banquet table, two of them behind Jesse, two behind Dorothy, and two behind Bauers. Their royal blue uniforms were highlighted with crimson piping, like a thin flow of blood.

Esmar Tuek burst into the banquet hall, heading a larger force of Catalan house soldiers. Though the Emperor’s guards were surrounded by at least three times their number, they did not flinch. Jesse sat rigid and cold, sure that he had been betrayed again.