Dune: House Atreides (74 page)

"I have studied the official evidence, the data taken by scanners in the Heighliner hold, and eyewitness accounts. I agree with your attorneys that it looks very bad for you, m'Lord. We must begin with the assumption that you did not instigate this act in any way and extrapolate from there."

Leto sighed. "Thufir, if you don't believe me, we have no chance whatsoever in the Landsraad court."

"I take your innocence as fact. Now, there are several possibilities, which I will list in the order of least likelihood. First, though it is a remote possibility, the destruction of the Tleilaxu ship may have been an accident."

"We need something better than that, Thufir. No one will believe it."

"More likely, the Tleilaxu blew up their own ship simply to incriminate you. We know the small value they place on life. The passengers and crew on the destroyed craft may have only been gholas, and thus expendable. They can always grow more duplicates in their axlotl tanks."

Hawat tapped his fingers together. "Unfortunately, the problem is lack of motive. Would the Tleilaxu concoct such a complex and outrageous scheme merely to get petty revenge against you for harboring the children of House Vernius?

What would they gain by this?"

"Remember, Thufir, I did declare my clear enmity against them in the Landsraad Hall. They see me as an enemy as well."

"I still don't think that is sufficient provocation, my Duke. No, this is something bigger, something for which the perpetrator was willing to risk all-out war." He paused, then added, "I am unable to determine what the Bene Tleilax could possibly gain by the embarrassment or destruction of House Atreides. You are a peripheral enemy to them, at best."

Leto wrestled with the conundrum himself, but if even the Mentat could not find a chain of associations, then a mere Duke wouldn't be able to follow such subtle threads. "All right, what's another possibility?"

"Perhaps . . . Ixian sabotage. The result of an Ixian renegade who sought to strike back against the Tleilaxu. A misguided attempt to assist the exiled Dominic Vernius. It's also possible that Dominic himself was involved, though there have been no sightings of him since he went renegade."

Leto digested this information, but the practical question nagged him.

"Sabotage? By what means?"

"Difficult to say. The gutting of the Tleilaxu ship's interior suggests a multiphase projectile. Chemical residue analysis also confirms this."

Leto leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. "But how? Who could have fired such a projectile? Let's not forget that witnesses claim to have seen shots launched from the direction of our frigate. The Heighliner hold was empty in the vicinity. You and I were both watching. Ours was the only ship close enough."

"The few answers I can suggest are extremely unlikely, my Duke. A small attack craft could have fired such a projectile, but it is not possible to hide such a vessel. We saw nothing. Even an individual suited up with breathing apparatus would have been noticed in the cargo hold, so that rules out shoulder-launched missiles. Besides which, no one is allowed outside the ships during foldspace transit."

"I'm no Mentat, Thufir . . . but I smell Harkonnens in this," Leto mused as he ran his finger in circles on the slick, cold surface of the blueplaz table. He had to think, had to be strong.

Hawat gave him a concise analysis. "When a foul deed occurs, three principal trails invariably lead to the responsible party: money, power, or revenge.

This incident was a setup, designed to destroy House Atreides -- possibly linked to the scheme that killed your father."

Leto heaved an enormous sigh. "Our family had a few quiet years under Dmitri Harkonnen and his son Abulurd, when the Harkonnens seemed to let us live in peace. Now I'm afraid the old feud has resurfaced. From what I hear, the Baron revels in it."

The Mentat smiled grimly. "Exactly what I was considering, m'Lord. I am absolutely baffled as to how they might have accomplished such an ambush with so many other ships watching. Proving such a conjecture in Landsraad court will be even more difficult."

A guard appeared at the force-barred cell and entered, carrying a small parcel.

Without uttering a word or even looking Leto in the eyes, he placed the package on the slick table and departed.

Hawat ran a scanner over the suspicious parcel. "Message cube," he said.

Gesturing for Leto to stand back, the Mentat removed the wrapping to reveal a dark object. He found no markings, no indication of the sender, yet it seemed to be important.

Leto held up the cube, and it glowed after recognizing his thumbprint. Words flowed across its face in synchronization with his eye movements, two sentences that spoke volumes of provocative information.

"Crown Prince Shaddam, like his father before him, maintains a secret and illegal alliance with the Bene Tleilax. This information may prove valuable to your defense -- if you dare use it."

"Thufir! Look at this." But the words dissolved before he could shift the face of the cube toward the Mentat. Then the message cube itself crumbled to brittle debris in his palm. He had no idea who could have sent such a bombshell to him.

Is it possible that I have secret allies on Kaitain?

Suddenly uneasy, even paranoid, Leto switched to Atreides hand signals, the secret language Duke Paulus had taught close members of his household. The young man's hawklike face darkened as he recounted what he had read and asked who could have sent it.

The Mentat considered for just a moment, then answered with his own flickering hand gestures: "The Tleilaxu are not known for their military prowess, but this connection might explain how they could so easily crush the Ixians and their defensive technology. Sardaukar might secretly maintain control over the downtrodden populace underground." Thufir finished: "Shaddam is mixed up in this somehow, and doesn't want that fact revealed."

Leto's fingers flashed in inquiry: "But what does that have to do with the attack inside the Heighliner? I don't see a connection."

Hawat pursed his stained lips and spoke aloud in a husky whisper. "Maybe there isn't one. But it might not matter, so long as we can use the information in our darkest hour. I propose a bluff, my Duke. A spectacular, desperate bluff."

In a Trial by Forfeiture, the normal rules of evidence do not apply. There are no disclosure requirements that evidence be revealed to the opposition or to the magistrates prior to the court proceedings. This places the person with secret knowledge in a uniquely powerful position -- commensurate with the extreme risk he takes.

-Rogan's Rules of Evidence, 3rd Edition

As Crown Prince Shaddam read the unexpected message cube from Leto Atreides, a wave of crimson rage tinted his face.

"Sire, my defense documentation includes a full disclosure of your relationship with the Tleilaxu."

"Impossible! How could he know?" Shouting an obscenity, Shaddam smashed the cube against the wall, chipping the indigo-veined marble. Fenring scuttled forward to pick up the pieces, anxious to preserve the evidence and read the message for himself. Shaddam glared at his advisor, as if this were somehow Fenring's fault.

It was early evening, and the two of them had left the Palace to go to Fenring's private penthouse for a few moments of peace. Now Shaddam paced the perimeter of the spacious room, with furtive Fenring following the other like a shadow.

Shaddam, though not yet formally crowned, settled onto a massive balcony chair as if it were a throne. With royal reserve, the Crown Prince eyed his friend.

"So, Hasimir, how do you suppose my cousin learned about the Tleilaxu? What evidence does he have?"

"Hm-m-m-m, he may simply be bluffing . . . ."

"Such a guess can't be pure coincidence. We don't dare call his bluff -- if it is one. We can't risk letting the truth come out in Landsraad court." Shaddam groaned. "I don't approve of this Trial by Forfeiture business at all. Never did. It shifts responsibility for the allocation of a Great House's assets away from the Imperial throne, away from me. I think it's very bad form."

"But there's nothing you can do about it, Sire. It's an established law, dating back to Butlerian times when House Corrino was appointed to rule the civilizations of mankind. Take heart that in the thousands of years since, this is only the fourth time forfeiture has ever been invoked, mm-m-m-m? It seems the all-or-nothing gambit is not very popular."

Shaddam continued to scowl, looking across the evening skies at the prismatic domes of the faraway Palace, his gaze distant. "But how could he possibly know?

Who talked? What did we miss? This is a disaster!"

Fenring stopped at the edge of the balcony, looking out at the stars with his close-set, glittering eyes. He dropped his voice to an ominous whisper. "Maybe I should pay Leto Atreides a little visit in his cell, hm-m-m-m-ah? To find out exactly what he knows and how he learned of it. It's the most obvious solution to our little dilemma."

Shaddam slouched low in the balcony chair, but it felt too hard against his back. "The Duke won't tell you anything. He's got too much to lose. He may be grasping at straws, but I've no doubt he'll carry out his threat."

The huge eyes darkened. "When I ask questions, Shaddam, I get answers."

Fenring clenched his fists. "You should know that by now, after all I've done for you."

"That Mentat Thufir Hawat won't leave Leto's side, and he is a formidable adversary. He's called the Master of Assassins."

"My talent, too, Shaddam. We can find a way to separate them. You command it, and I shall see that it is done." He revealed eagerness at the prospect of killing, with his pleasure heightened by the challenge at hand. Fenring's eyes shone, but Shaddam cut him off.

"If he's as smart as he seems, Hasimir, he'll have established many guarantees for himself. Ah, yes. The moment Leto suspects a threat, he could announce whatever he knows -- and there's no telling what sort of insurance he's set up for himself, especially if this has been his plan all along."

. . . full disclosure of your relationship with the Tleilaxu . . .

A cool breeze drifted across the balcony, but he did not go back inside. "If word of our . . . project . . . comes out, the Great Houses could block me from the throne and a Landsraad attack force would be dispatched against Ix."

"They've named it Xuttah now, Sire," Fenring muttered.

"Whatever they call it."

The Crown Prince ran a hand through his pomaded reddish hair. The Atreides prisoner's single line of text had shaken him more than the overthrow of a hundred worlds. He wondered how much this would have disturbed old Elrood.

More than the huge revolt in the Ecaz sector early in his reign?

Watch, and learn.

Oh, shut up, you old vulture!

Shaddam's brow furrowed. "Think on it, Hasimir -- it seems almost too obvious.

Is there any chance at all that Duke Leto didn't destroy the Tleilaxu ships?"

Fenring ran a finger along his pointed chin. "I doubt that very much, Sire.

The Atreides ship was there, as confirmed by witnesses. The weapons had been fired, and Leto has made no secret of his anger toward the Bene Tleilax.

Remember his speech at the Landsraad? He is guilty. No one could believe otherwise."

"I'd think even a sixteen-year-old could be more subtle than that. Why would he demand a Trial by Forfeiture, then?" Shaddam hated it when he couldn't understand people and their actions. "A ridiculous risk."

Fenring let a long pause hang in the air before he dropped his idea like a bombshell. "Because Leto knew all along he would send you that message?" He gestured toward the shrapnel of the message cube. He had to point out the obvious, since Shaddam often let his rage get the best of his reasoning faculties. He continued quickly.

"Perhaps you are thinking backward, Sire. It may be that Leto purposely struck out at the Tleilaxu, knowing he could use the incident as a pretext to demand a Trial by Forfeiture -- a public forum in the Landsraad court during which he could expose what he knew about us? All the Imperium will be listening."

"But why, why?" Shaddam studied the well-manicured nails on his fingers, flushed with confusion. "What does he have against me? I am his cousin!"

Fenring sighed. "Leto Atreides is in thick with the ousted Prince of Ix. If he learned about our hand in the overthrow there and the Tleilaxu synthetic-spice work, wouldn't that be motive enough? He inherited a deep, misplaced sense of honor from his father. Consider this, then: Leto took it upon himself to punish the Bene Tleilax. But if we let him stand trial now before the Landsraad, he plans to tell of our involvement and take us down with him. It's as simple as that, hm-m-m-m? He committed the crime, all the while knowing we would have to protect him . . . to protect ourselves. Either way, he'll have punished us. At least he left a way out."

"Ah, yes. But that's --"

"Blackmail, Sire?"

Shaddam drew an icy breath. "Damn him!" Now he stood up, looking Imperial at last. "Damn him! If you're right, Hasimir, we have no choice but to help him."

The written Law of the Imperium cannot be changed, no matter which Great House holds dominion or which Emperor sits on the Golden Lion Throne. The documents of the Imperial Constitution have been established for thousands of years. This is not to say that each regime is legally identical; the variations stem from subtleties of interpretation and from microscopic loopholes that become large enough to drive a Heighliner through.

-Law of the Imperium: Commentaries and Rebuttals Leto lay supine on the sling bed in his cell, feeling the warm throb of a massage mechanism beneath him as it worked the stress-tightened muscles of his neck and back. He still didn't know what he was going to do.

So far he had received no response from the Crown Prince, and Leto was now convinced that his wild bluff would not work. Relying on the secret message had been a long shot anyway, and Leto himself had no idea what it meant. Instead, for hour after hour, he and the Mentat had continued to discuss the merits of their case and the necessity of relying on their own skills.