Road to Dune (19 page)

“Stop!” A woman’s voice came from below the steps, to the side of the main entrance. A previously locked servants’ door now stood open, and Dorothy Mapes emerged. “Stop!” For a relatively small woman, she shouted her command with a power that seemed superhuman.

Tuek glared at Dorothy and gestured to four of his men. “Sweet affection, get her out of there!”

Unprotected, she lifted her head with regal dignity and faced the mob, as if she could guard the servants’ entrance simply with her confidence.“You people have been misinformed! We have given the city of Carthage all our water reserves for distribution to the people. You know this.”

“What about the conservatory?”

“We know you’re hiding it!”

Tuek’s security guards elbowed their way down the stairs, but could not move through the crowd swiftly enough. Jesse tore himself free of his escort and ran back toward the main entrance, trying unsuccessfully to reach his concubine. The men and women were clustered too tightly, jockeying for position and pushing him back.

“Then anyone who wishes to see, come with me,” Dorothy yelled over the tumult. She held a hand up. “Twenty of you at a time. I will show you the difference between House Linkam and House Hoskanner.”

Before a livid Tuek could stop her, she allowed a group of the protesters inside the mansion.

WHEN JESSE AND the guards finally caught up with Dorothy and the twenty angry townspeople on the fourth floor, she had led them to the end of a corridor in the south wing. “This was a Hoskanner conservatory!” she said. Holding the full attention of the witnesses, she activated the secret panel, and the moisture-seal door hissed open.

“Look inside and imagine the decadence, the waste of water, the lushness that
Valdemar Hoskanner
hid for his own private amusement. Imagine how many of your fellow citizens went thirsty because of his self-indulgence.”

Within the sheltered greenhouse chamber, only dead plants filled shelves and counters. Dry leaves and dead insects lay scattered about. The air was redolent with the smell of dry decay.

“Nobleman Linkam knows how hard life is here on Duneworld,” she continued, “and such waste offends him. When My Lord learned of Valdemar’s personal paradise, he shut off all water to this room.” Her voice was as firm as a rock formation from the deep desert. “Outraged at the excess, we allowed every plant in the conservatory to die—and the water was passed on to the people of Carthage, making life better for you.”

The twenty spectators gazed around, some nervous, some ashamed, some looking completely out of place, as if they didn’t know why they had been drawn into the mob in the first place.

One large man still searched for a way to release his pent-up emotions. Dorothy did not flinch, even when confronted by his bulk. “Why won’t you let the spice crews come home? What about all the melange you’re hiding in the deep desert?”

“Outright lies and destructive rumors.” Dorothy waved an arm expansively, sure now that they would believe her. “Just like this.”

Tuek’s men stood uncertainly in the hall, weapons ready, but the fury had died from this first group of observers. The guards led them outside, while Dorothy remained in the room to await others.

Jesse came to her side. “That was foolish, and dangerous.”

“But effective. Would you rather our house guards slaughtered them all?” She gave him a small, hard smile. “Esmar will hate guiding more people in here, won’t he? But I keep my word, as you do yourself.”

He frowned, but kept his thoughts private. Even Tuek hadn’t known about the conservatory—so how had the rumor started in the first place? Of course, he realized: the Hoskanners knew. But they didn’t—or
shouldn’t
—know about the deep-desert operations. Niles Rew and his unruly escapees had been held in isolated custody, yet still someone had leaked the information. Two damaging secrets had gotten out, at the same time.

Tuek couldn’t possibly be right about her. But Jesse found it difficult to dispute the facts. Throughout their tenure here, saboteurs had known about the movement of equipment, the stations of security troops, the orders of new harvesters and carryalls, which were inexplicably delayed … .

“What is it, Jesse?” She looked at him, her brow furrowed. Did he see a hint of guilt etched on her face? Could she possibly be hiding something? From him? Now, suddenly, he couldn’t be sure.

Dorothy continued to look at him, waiting for an answer. Finally, he turned away. “Nothing.”

24

In the Known Universe some of the most inhospitable worlds hold the most value.

—REPORT OF THE IMPERIAL RESOURCE BOARD

A
fter the crowd had dissipated—for now—Jesse and Tuek strode through the corridors of the mansion. The brooding security chief seemed even more introspective than usual.

Sunlight passed through leaded plaz windows with an intensity that suggested the level of afternoon heat outside. Members of the household staff were picking up debris and dust in the halls and rooms from such a large influx of people.

With a glance at Tuek, Jesse said, “We’ve proved something to them at least. Valdemar Hoskanner would never have allowed them such access.”

“He would have killed everyone in the mob.” The veteran did not sound judgmental. “As I was prepared to do.”

“It could have been much worse if not for Dor’s quick thinking.”

Scowling, the other man rubbed his red-stained lips. “Her foolish bravado, you mean. She put us all in danger.” After a long moment, he added, “In my experience, Jesse, rumors begin far from the light of day—but they all start somewhere, an ember of truth that is fanned into flames by an instigator.”

He knew the old veteran meant Dorothy. Jesse didn’t understand why Tuek had never liked or trusted her. Was it because she had so much influence over the nobleman, while she was only a commoner? “When we came here, Esmar, we fired much of the old domestic staff that worked for the Hoskanners. Some of them could have known about the conservatory. They must have talked.”

“But why now, My Lord? At the same time as the rumor about the spice stockpiles in the deep desert? I do not like coincidences.” He motioned for Jesse to follow him into a nearby chamber. After they closed the door, the security chief removed a messagestat cylinder from an inside jacket pocket. The ornate cylinder bore an unmistakable Imperial crest.

“I found this on my desk an hour ago,” Tuek said. “Counselor Bauers has also heard the rumors of our secret hoard, and he believes them.”

“He certainly gets up early.”

Tapping the cylinder, Tuek said, “Based on the amount of bluster, I’m confident he doesn’t have proof yet. But someone informed him, even before today’s mob started spreading rumors. In fact, I have it on good authority that he has already dispatched search teams into the desert.”

Jesse felt a chill. “Has Gurney’s latest camp been moved?”

He nodded. “I sent an immediate order, and Bauers will only find a few tracks in the sand. We should be able to stay one step ahead of him.”

“Then why aren’t you smiling, old friend?”

“There’s more.” The veteran’s face darkened. “The Emperor himself is coming here on his private yacht, along with an Imperial military force, to formally confiscate all melange … supposedly to preserve peace. The Emperor plans to strip you of your title … and monopoly … here.”

Jesse had the cylinder open now, scanning the details. Looking up, he said, “In a contest with no rules, keeping our production levels secret should not have been a problem, but I’m afraid they never had any intention of letting me win the challenge. The Emperor and Valdemar had a deal in place before any of this began.” He hurled the cylinder against a stone wall. The cylinder bounced and then rolled on the floor, making a clatter that seemed to mock him.

“We only have three days to get ready,” Tuek said. “Then we will have to face Grand Emperor Wuda. I hope you’re not willing to concede defeat, My Lord.”

“Absolutely not, Esmar. But we need to buy ourselves some time.”

THAT NIGHT JESSE lay beside Dorothy in bed. Though she slept peacefully, he remained awake and alert, full of thoughts and doubts that he didn’t want to share with her, or with anyone. Not yet. First he needed to sort them out himself.

With his proclamation, Bauers had effectively hamstrung the Linkam hopes. If Jesse revealed the spice he’d been holding in reserve while exporting only minimal amounts, then the Grand Emperor would simply take it. No rules. Apparently no justice or fair play, either.

He and Tuek had decided to keep the Emperor’s imminent arrival a secret for now, including from Dorothy.

In three days I must face the Emperor. Will I lose my title without so much as a chance to answer his questions?
Jesse suspected, though, that in this devious trap no answer would ever be acceptable.

He had plenty of questions of his own. Why was the Imperial leader so desperate for spice? Exports were much less than the Hoskanner quotas, but enough melange had still gone directly to Renaissance to more than meet the Emperor’s personal needs. Were other noble families agitating for shares of the Duneworld prize? Melange was in wide demand, judging from the Hoskanner production and export records he had seen. But still, wasn’t it just a drug—a luxury?

If the Emperor disqualified Jesse from this contest, House Linkam would be ruined. They had mortgaged everything, even borrowing deeply from exploitive noble families who charged crippling interest. Could Jesse leave that in place as a legacy for his son? Barri would be penniless, as weak and insignificant as William English’s family had been. The thought of Barri being thrown onto a penal planet like Eridanus V made his stomach roil.

Intellectually, when he assessed the angry powers arrayed against him, Jesse knew he could not win. For a moment he considered just taking his spice hoard and fleeing to another planet. Given the high price of melange, even on the black market, he could buy a planet somewhere on the fringe of the Empire. Take Dorothy and Barri, load a ship, and go renegade.

The Grand Emperor cannot strip House Linkam if he cannot find House Linkam
. Despite his flouting of rules, even Emperor Wuda could not completely spurn the Nobles’ Council. Legalities must be observed.

But unlike his father and brother, Jesse Linkam was not a man to run and hide. Besides, Ulla Bauers would undoubtedly use some tricky legal loophole to hunt down Jesse and his family.

Rage infused Jesse, and fresh determination. He thought of another way.

Leaning across the bed, he kissed Dorothy on the cheek. “I love you, my darling. Always remember that.” She murmured the same in return, then drifted back to sleep again with a gentle smile on her face.

Three days
.

Jesse swung out of bed, dressed quietly, and slipped into the shadowy corridor. He wrote and sealed a terse, irrefutable letter that specifically revoked all of his concubine’s authority, stating that Dorothy could no longer be his proxy. And he intentionally named no successor.
Let Bauers wrestle with that little legal wrinkle
.

Because he would leave no explanation, she would be angry, even crushed, but Jesse was confident she could eventually figure out his reasons. He considered waking Tuek and telling the security chief his plans, then decided instead to take this bold action on his own. If they didn’t know what he was doing, even an Imperial interrogator could not drag the information from them.

Before long, Jesse was at the controls of an ornijet, speeding over the dark sands toward the forward research base.

25

We are, each of us, capable of anything.

—VALDEMAR HOSKANNER

C
onfused, upset, and most of all afraid for her nobleman’s safety, Dorothy waited for three days, but no word came from him. Jesse had disappeared in the middle of the night, leaving only a shocking letter that stripped her of all authority. Why? What had she done? Had someone accused her?

No one seemed to know where the Linkam patriarch had gone, and because he had removed her as his proxy, no person could be contacted who was officially in charge of House Linkam. It was an impossible situation. All business seemed to be frozen.

Hardest to deal with were Barri’s questions about his father. The boy could sense his mother’s concern, but he wasn’t completely frightened yet. Jesse had often gone out to the spice fields, though never without telling her first.

If he knew anything about the mystery, Esmar Tuek refused to share information with her. The security chief seemed even more guarded than usual, as if he dreaded what was about to happen. He kept watching the open skies. After reading the severance letter, Tuek had looked at Dorothy with even deeper suspicion. It troubled her to see the strange enmity in his eyes, the subtle hostility in his demeanor. But he was hiding a deep secret of his own behind that hard, inscrutable face; she could read the telltale signs in his body language.

Yet Jesse claimed he trusted the man implicitly. Tuek had now served three heads of House Linkam, and it was not a mere concubine’s place to question the relationship between a nobleman and his loyal, if overly zealous, security chief.

Why would Jesse simply leave Carthage? Why hadn’t he trusted her enough to explain his strange departure? It was as if he wanted to make himself disappear and hide from everyone, even from her … .

And now an unannounced ship was arriving.

Alerted by an office assistant, Dorothy ran out on a sealed-plaz balcony of the mansion. From her high vantage she gazed toward the northern desert, where a heat-addled shape approached, glinting in the midday sun. She hoped it was the ornijet Jesse had taken, or perhaps a larger transport ship from the forward base. Thermal ripples in the air blurred all details.

The approaching craft circled, choosing the best of the various landing fields in the stepped and rocky city. The Imperial inspection ship still dominated the main field, where it had rested for months without moving.