Road to Dune (20 page)

Hearing something behind her, she turned to see Tuek step out on the balcony. Had he been reading her thoughts … or spying on her in his irritating manner? She kept her tone cordial but cool. “That ship isn’t Jesse coming back, is it, General?”

The old veteran stood stiff and straight, watching the unusual craft land in one of the zones normally reserved for Linkam ships. She had never seen a vessel of such gaudy design. “No, that is not Nobleman Linkam.” He pointed toward the smaller of the two spaceports. “It is Emperor Wuda’s personal yacht.”

She reeled. The Emperor had come in person! Even under the baking heat of Arrakis, Dorothy felt a peculiar, disturbing coldness. An Imperial arrival could only mean a political coup that would damage House Linkam. “Does Jesse know about this?”

The general smiled slightly with his stained lips. “It is not for me to say what the nobleman knows or does not know.” He turned to look at the Imperial yacht as it landed. “Now the fun begins.”

A POMPOUS AND overdressed emissary issued a formal command for Nobleman Jesse Linkam to meet with Grand Emperor Wuda aboard the inspection ship. The tall emissary displayed all the emotion of a robot; he stood in the mansion’s great vaulted hall, delivered his words to Dorothy, and then turned like clockwork, preparing to exit.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Dorothy said, bringing him to a halt. “The nobleman is not currently available.” Her voice, though soft, had the effect of a wrench jammed into the man’s gears.

Flustered, the emissary searched for a new script from which to recite. “No one is unavailable for the Grand Emperor!”

The man’s large stature made Dorothy feel even smaller, but she had seen his type before and had no patience for imagined self-importance.“Nobleman Linkam is in the deep desert supervising spice operations. I do not know his exact whereabouts, and I have no way of communicating with him.”

“Nobleman Linkam was forewarned of the Grand Emperor’s arrival. He should have arranged to be present. Who is his proxy to receive an edict? The formalities must be observed.”

“No one. I was formally removed from that position, and the nobleman has not yet appointed a replacement.”

The man looked as if he might explode. A sudden bright pleasure warmed Dorothy’s heart as she put the pieces together and reviewed the evidence. This was exactly why Jesse had made himself unavailable! He had intentionally terminated her as his representative, leaving a vacuum, which effectively tied the Emperor’s hands. If no one could find the nobleman, then no one could deliver legal demands. And no one could make any binding decisions for him.

Dorothy maintained her confident smile. “Spice harvesting is a difficult business, and unforeseen disasters occur with unfortunate regularity.” Not a lie … in fact, she hadn’t told him much of anything. “Though I am not allowed to make binding decisions for Nobleman Linkam, I would be happy to greet the Emperor. Tell him I will be there at the appointed time.”

The emissary did not look pleased, but could only agree.

AFTER PASSING THROUGH the ornamental rock garden where the broken Hoskanner statues had been discarded, Dorothy crossed the armorpave landing field toward the huge inspection ship. Hot yellow sunlight pounded down with the force of weapons fire, but she breathed as calmly as she could, trying to force peace upon herself.

General Tuek insisted on accompanying her, but still held his secrets as tightly as Duneworld gripped the mysteries of melange. How could she react properly to the Emperor if she did not have the information she needed? Why hadn’t Jesse explained himself to her before creating the authority vacuum ?

Together, they stepped onto a royal purple carpet that had been laid for the Grand Emperor’s procession from the ornate yacht at the other spaceport to the enormous inspection vessel. Blown dust and sand had already dulled some of the fabric’s brilliant color.

Imperial guards stood at attention on each side of the inspection ship’s entrance, where an open lift awaited the visitors. She and Tuek entered an enclosure that verified their identities and scanned for weapons. After being cleared, they stepped through to the lift where Ulla Bauers waited, gazing down the bridge of his nose at them. “Hmmm, since when do a concubine and an old soldier speak on behalf of a House? We specified Nobleman Linkam in person.”

Dorothy bristled, but tried not to show her irritation. She glanced sidelong at the stoic veteran; his red-stained lips formed a firm iron line.

“Nevertheless,” Tuek said, “we will try to be of assistance.”

“Hmm-ahh, we shall see. This way.”

The lift took them up twenty-seven levels, deep inside the massive inspection vessel. Dorothy wondered why the Emperor’s man needed such an immense ship to keep watch on spice operations. Perhaps much of the size might be puffery to promote an imposing sense of awe for the Emperor. Tuek was convinced that the vessel contained an entire standing army tucked away in soundproof compartments, though he had no proof.

Maybe the Counselor had hoped to seize a huge cargo of spice by military force, leaving the Linkams empty-handed. Packing such a hoard into the ship and delivering it to the Grand Emperor, after skimming a satisfactory percentage for himself, Bauers would reap many rewards.

Dorothy and Tuek followed the overdressed, ferretlike man through a maze of corridors, observation galleries, and rooms without apparent purpose, then into the opulent grand salon. The gilded walls and ceilings were covered with frescoes, some of the finest and most extravagant workmanship she had ever seen. On the far side of the chamber, one of the Emperor’s numerous portable thrones had been erected; Inton Wuda undoubtedly had one aboard his personal space yacht as well.

The fat, pale ruler sat high atop the elaborate chair; to Dorothy, he looked like an overstuffed, overdressed doll. Bauers moved forward with a mincing gait that seemed like an intricate court dance. He bowed, then stepped to one side. With a casual gesture, Bauers motioned for the two to approach.

In unrehearsed unison, Dorothy and Tuek bowed, averting their eyes from the most powerful man in the Known Universe, the third Wuda to rule in succession following the Millennial Wars. Nearly lost in bowls of fat, his eyes moved from face to face. When he spoke, his voice seemed too small to come from such an important man. “What is this insignificant delegation? I summoned Nobleman Linkam himself.”

“He is not in Carthage, Sire,” Dorothy said, keeping her eyes averted. “And he has left no official proxy to act in his stead.”

“This is the nobleman’s concubine, a mere commoner,” Bauers said with a sniff, then added as if it were a joke, “Hmm, and she also serves as the business manager for House Linkam. The former sapho addict is Esmar Tuek, their security chief. Note his red lips, from the sapho cure.”

“An odd pair.” Wuda scowled and squirmed, as if preparing to rise from his throne in indignation, then deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. “What sort of insult is this? When is your nobleman expected back?”

Tuek answered. “We’re not certain, Sire. He is working the spice fields with his men, striving to do the best possible job on your behalf.”

“If he’s working so hard, then where is the melange to show for it?” the Grand Emperor demanded. “His output has been shameful, an embarrassment! All across my Empire, people are clamoring for his head.”

Dorothy was sure the Emperor must be exaggerating. “Nobleman Linkam has recently increased production, Sire. Since he has several months remaining in his challenge, he hopes to deliver greater quantities to you soon.”

“So he’s hopeful, is he? Well, so am I! And whatever
I
hope for holds precedence!”

Dorothy wasn’t sure what distinction the Emperor was trying to make, but he had grown quite red in the face. “We will do whatever you command, Sire.”

“Of course you will! And don’t speak unless you have something intelligent to say.” He snorted, looking disdainfully at the diagem promise ring Jesse had given her. “A concubine business manager! And a worn-out sapho addict!”

Bauers swept in from the side. “Shall I escort them out of here, Sire?”

“Not until you learn exactly where Nobleman Linkam is, so that we may go out and see what he is doing. We flew halfway across the Known Universe to come here. We must take care of this matter promptly and get spice production back to normal. I should never have listened to Nobleman Hoskanner. This whole challenge is nonsense.”

“We don’t know exactly where our master is,” Tuek repeated. Though he spoke the truth, as Dorothy did, it was obvious to both of them that Jesse didn’t want to be found.

Dorothy added, “Because of continual danger from worms, spice operations shift from day to day.”

The Grand Emperor showed his displeasure by putting his face through a variety of unpleasant expressions. “Incompetence, utter incompetence! You don’t even know where your nobleman is, and he left no one in charge. No wonder the spice exports have collapsed.”

Bauers emitted a wicked chuckle. “Hmm, the disadvantages of having a commoner for a business manager.”

Because the Emperor laughed at the joke, Dorothy and Tuek were forced to chuckle along with him.

As Bauers herded them out of the grand salon, Dorothy noticed a mark on the lower part of his neck, mostly hidden by his voluminous black collar. It looked like a gray tattoo, but she could see only the rounded top of it.

Noting her interest, Bauers quickly got behind her and pushed them toward the doorway.

Is he hiding something?
she wondered.

26

Sometimes, it is wise not to investigate every mystery you encounter.

—SANDMINER’S ADMONITION

T
wo men stood outside the brown barracks dome watching the murk settle in the late afternoon sky. Very soon, Jesse wanted to declare victory by fiat; the only score that would impress Emperor Wuda was an overwhelming amount of melange and the secret of an immensely effective new production technique. He would have to return with so much spice in hand that Valdemar’s promises and bribes would look paltry by comparison.

Jesse Linkam would turn the old order of commerce and politics on its ear.

Though Dr. Haynes was technically in Imperial employ, he had agreed to keep all aspects of the shock-canister technology confidential. If Emperor Wuda tried to seize the spice and deny House Linkam its profits and glory, General Tuek already had orders to destroy the designs and all of the supporting work. Now that the idea was out there, however, somebody could recreate it—but that would take a considerable amount of time and effort to accomplish, and the Empire was desperate for spice now. Jesse still maintained the upper hand.

Despite several days of labor that seemed harder than the worst battle he’d ever fought, Gurney Halleck wore an incongruously boyish grin on his lumpy face. The bruise in the center of his forehead was a fading blotch of yellow and purple. “The Emperor’s spies may have learned about our stockpiles, laddie, but they have no inkling how
much
spice we’ve gathered or
how
we did it. The numbers, and our method, would astonish even Bauers himself.” The jongleur’s grin widened further.

“Exactly how much do we have, Gurney? The last tally I saw, we were approaching eighty percent of our goal.”

“Should be well over ninety percent now. Now that we’ve gotten rid of that bastard Rew and others who were poisoning morale, our sandminers have been working like madmen. To quote an old saying, ‘All work and no play … makes for bigger bonuses!’ I’m awfully proud of the men.” The spice foreman narrowed his eyes. “They all deserve a huge reward.”

“After we win, I’ll be generous until it hurts, Gurney. As soon as the Emperor locates me, he intends to force me to leave Duneworld. Don’t think he hasn’t already reached a backroom deal with Valdemar Hoskanner. The clock is ticking, and a lot of things could still go wrong.” He gazed toward the horizon. The new weather satellites had spotted a storm brewing out there.

“This morning’s scouts found a rich vein nearby,” Gurney reported. “Maybe the biggest yet. It surfaced sometime during the night. If we use one more shock canister and put all seven spice harvesters on it, we might actually top our production goal. In a matter of hours.”

“Only if the weather holds. We’ve been in communication silence, but the Grand Emperor must have arrived in Carthage by now. He’s probably bellowing for me, but we’ve moved around so much that even Esmar can’t figure out where we are.”

“Yes indeed. All those storms, static discharges, and faulty Hoskanner equipment.” His smile became sly. “No way to track us down. Very difficult to keep effective lines of communication open … especially when we don’t want to.”

“Esmar still thinks there’s a standing Imperial army hidden inside that inspection ship. If he’s right, I hope they don’t stage a military takeover of Carthage.” He clenched his teeth. “No rules! That foul Wuda fails to follow his own conditions when it looks as if the contest might not turn out the way he wants.”

“He may be Emperor, My Lord, but he is no nobleman. He has no honor.”

Jesse shook his head sadly. “You’re right.”

“The men are tired, and it’s late in the day, but we can still deploy a last shock charge and continue spice operations into the night until the storm forces us to halt.” Gurney’s rough skin looked ruddy in the oddly colored light. “Or we can pack up and wait for tomorrow.”

“Each tomorrow holds too much uncertainty. Send out the crews and hope the weather doesn’t turn on us. This time, I’ll deploy the canister myself. Let’s win this game, Gurney.”

27

Genuine trust is even rarer than the spice melange.

—GENERAL ESMAR TUEK,
Security Briefings

R
estless and unable to sleep because of the Emperor’s threats, Dorothy spent part of the night alone in the dry, empty conservatory. It was a silent and private place, though no longer secret. With all the plants dead and brittle, no one had a reason to go in there anymore.