Sisterhood of Dune (25 page)

When they returned to Noffe’s office chamber, the Tlulaxa could no longer hide his eagerness as he looked meaningfully at the case that Josef still carried. “What is it you’ve brought, sir?”

He set the case on Noffe’s metal desk, opening the seal. “These are biological samples from Vorian Atreides.” He paused, watching for a reaction on the bald Tlulaxa’s face.

“The greatest hero of the Jihad? Have these samples been preserved in stasis all these years?”

“They are fresh. Taken from Vorian himself only weeks ago.” Seeing the Tlulaxa’s surprise, he continued, “The old warhorse is more than two centuries old and looks as young as I do. His father, General Agamemnon, gave him a life-extension procedure that was common for cymeks.”

“I don’t think anyone knows how to do that anymore,” Noffe said.

“Precisely. I want you to use the cellular history in these samples to rediscover the process. Learn what the cymeks did to prevent Vorian Atreides from aging … and how we can reproduce it for ourselves.” The Denali administrator took the sample case with sudden reverence, and Josef continued, “With all the work we have ahead of us, we are going to need that procedure. We have to survive if we’re going to save humanity.”

Vengeance is as difficult to define as it is to deny.

—
GRIFFIN HARKONNEN
, letter to Valya

After the loss of his uncle Weller and the entire shipment of whale fur, Griffin Harkonnen no longer looked forward to the arrival of the regular Celestial Transport supply ship. The cargo vessels had been his connection with the rest of the Imperium, bearing news and messages to and from Salusa Secundus, documents that made Lankiveil, and himself, a part of the larger governmental landscape.

But now he felt as if a door had been slammed in his face. His sister was well aware of the importance of their uncle’s venture, and Griffin didn’t know how he was going to tell her.…

“It’s a setback, not a complete disaster,” Griffin said to his father, though he did not truly believe his own words.

Standing next to him in the parlor, his father said, “Of course, you’re right. We’ll get through this. My brother never should have left the planet, should have just remained here, at home.…”

In the latest mail delivery, among the letters and packages, Griffin found a paltry settlement payment from Celestial Transport to compensate for the loss of their “loved one” (the form letter hadn’t even included the name of the deceased) as well as payment for the insured amount of the cargo, which was vastly undervalued. Due to the limited distribution, Griffin could not prove how much whale fur was worth away from Lankiveil. If the commercial venture had succeeded and the demand had risen, they would have had plenty of financial data, but as it was, he couldn’t prove the case.

“Please accept our deepest sympathies and this respectful attempt to make things right,” the letter continued. “Note that acceptance of these funds constitutes an agreement to hold Celestial Transport blameless and waives the right to claim further damages against this company or any of its subsidiaries. This agreement is legal and binding upon you, your heirs, and assigns in perpetuity.”

Griffin was upset by the callous tone in the letter, and considered the amount of the check an insult. “This is only a fraction of the cargo’s value! How does that compensate for our loss? I’ve studied legal precedents in the Salusan code. We have two years in which to file a dispute and pursue litigation.”

Vergyl Harkonnen, though, had neither the heart nor the inclination to fight. “Chasing after wealth cost Weller his life.” Holding the check, he sat down and shook his head. “Why let greed and vengeance deepen our wound? We must accept this payment, and make the best of rebuilding our lives.”

Griffin let out a bitter sigh of resignation. Although he knew Celestial Transport was cheating them, a legal battle against such a wealthy entity would be like wading chest-deep through a bog in the Lankiveil highlands. To fight them for their incompetence he would have to dig deeper into the severely weakened treasury, devoting all of his attention to the matter while letting other commercial opportunities fall by the wayside. The matter would drag on for years … and even if House Harkonnen won the case, the final balance sheet would show a loss.

If he received confirmation that he had passed his political examination, Griffin could go to Salusa Secundus as Lankiveil’s official planetary representative, and address the Landsraad assembly. He could demand tighter regulations, more oversight on foldspace shipping operations. If he could get appointed to important committees, he intended to demand an investigation into Celestial Transport’s business practices.

But he could not abandon the family holdings here on Lankiveil. Their treasury was badly diminished, and his parents could not manage or even grasp the magnitude of the crisis they faced. It would take the greatest finesse for Griffin to keep House Harkonnen solvent, hoping that someday he could rehabilitate the stained family name. With the loss of his uncle and the huge monetary setback of an entire fur-whale harvest, Griffin felt his diminished dreams turning inward, leaving him with little ambition beyond keeping his home and family from ruin.

A setback,
he emphasized to himself …
not a complete disaster.

He knew his sister would have clung to her righteous indignation as a weapon, demanding satisfaction from Celestial Transport rather than peace. Griffin and Valya had always enjoyed a close bond, while a large gap of age separated them from their younger siblings, Danvis and Tula.

But Valya had been away on Rossak for years, and he hoped her time with the Sisterhood’s intensive studies and meditation had channeled her energies in productive directions. She counted on him here, but he feared he had already let her down.…

Ten years ago, when he and his sister were thirteen and twelve, respectively, his father and uncle had taken them out on a boat into the frigid northern waters, tracking a fur-whale pod. Riding into choppy seas, Griffin and Valya both enjoyed the adventure. They had never imagined danger, and their father had ignored the need for life preservers, against the advice of the crew.

Standing on the bow, laughing at the spray, the teenage Griffin failed to see the wave that came from the starboard side and washed him overboard with the casual unexpectedness of someone swatting an insect. Griffin was stunned—plunged into the arctic water and clamped in an impossible vise of cold. In only a few seconds he could barely move, and could barely manage to keep his head above the surface.

As he struggled in the water, he remembered looking up to see his father staring down in horror from the deck rail, and his uncle Weller yelling for ropes and a life preserver. Then Griffin slipped under.

And Valya …
Valya
went in after Griffin. With no thought of herself, she dove into the water. Defying the paralyzing cold, she stroked out to him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and lifted his head above water. And then, her adrenaline exhausted, she began to succumb to the icy water, too.

Life preservers and rescue ropes had splashed in the water, and he could barely hold on. Gasping, shivering, cursing, Valya kept him afloat just long enough for the boat to come around again … but now she was slipping away. She made certain Griffin had a hold on the life preserver, and then went limp and gray.

Though Uncle Weller shouted for the sailors to haul up the rope, Griffin clutched his sister, refusing to let go. He kept his frozen fingers knotted into her wet blouse. He lost consciousness, but never released his grip.

Afterward, when they were both dry, wrapped in thick blankets and surrounded by heaters in the cabin of the fur-whale boat as it chugged back to their home fjord, Griffin looked at his sister in disbelief. “That was stupid. You shouldn’t have jumped in after me.”

“You would have done the same for me.” And Griffin knew she was right.

“We both could have died,” he said.

“But we didn’t—because we can count on each other.…”

And how true that was. He’d already returned the favor a year after she rescued him, when three drunken fishermen tried to attack her near the docks. She had always been attractive, and the Harkonnen name had meant little to the brutes. Valya could have fended off one of the large men with her speed and surprising strength; three, though, were too formidable. Still, her toughness had bought valuable time, allowing Griffin to sense her peril and rush to her aid. They’d made quick work of the drunken trio, and their father had pressed charges afterward.

Griffin closed his eyes at the recollections. He and his younger sister shared a bond that touched on the paranormal. Whenever either of them felt depressed or had other troubles, they seemed to sense it about each other, even though they were apart.

Now, he missed her terribly.…

Uninterested in the rest of the newly arrived packages, letters, and official documents, Vergyl and Sonia Harkonnen took their younger children, Danvis and Tula, out to comb a rocky beach on the main channel, hoping to gather shellfish. They left Griffin to manage the administration activities of Lankiveil, as they had been doing since he was twenty.

Going to the town’s business offices, Griffin spent the day overseeing the distribution of the newly arrived items, along with cargo that had been delivered to the municipal warehouses. Then he sat in on a meeting where groups of fishermen argued over the rights to certain deepwater coves.

Just another day on Lankiveil … although Griffin wasn’t sure he would ever feel normal again after the recent losses.

When he returned home in the late afternoon, the house smelled of rich herbs, pepper oil, sea salt, and the persistent tang of fish. The cook had made a large kettle of her special chowder, as well as fresh-baked rolls. The smell of the chowder began to whet his appetite, but he would wait to eat until his family returned.

In his home office, Griffin sorted through the correspondence the CT ship had delivered, and much to his delight he found a small package from Valya. He was under the impression that the Sisterhood pressured its members to avoid nostalgia, homesickness, and family ties; her letters home were rare, and very special.

Opening the package, he found that it contained a small, old-style memory crystal of a type used only by antique hologram readers—a model that Valya knew her brother had in his possession. The device was old, something Abulurd Harkonnen had brought to Lankiveil in his initial exile. Eager to hear what she had to say, Griffin rummaged through his shelves and drawers until he found the old reader, inserted the crystal, and played it.

A small, shimmering image of his sister appeared—dark-haired, with intense eyes, generous lips, and an attractiveness that would become outright beauty if she softened with age. When he heard Valya’s voice, it was as if she had never left Lankiveil.

“I have seen Vorian Atreides,” she said without preamble. “The blackheart has returned! Finally, we have a chance for justice.” Valya squared her shoulders, as if she imagined her brother reeling back in astonishment.

“He is not dead, as we thought, but has been in hiding, and now he’s back. Damn him, he looks as young and healthy as ever! Emperor Salvador fawned over him, celebrated his visit—Vorian Atreides!” Disgust flowed from her words. “You should have seen his face, his attitude, as if he owned the Imperium.… By now he must think the Harkonnens have forgotten what he did.”

Griffin felt his own mounting rage. His hands gripped the arms of his chair as he listened.

“We’ve talked about this for years, Brother—
dreamed
about it—and now we have our chance. Atreides will pay for bringing down our whole family, for making us villagers instead of Emperors and Empresses.”

As he absorbed this, Griffin thought of their conversations about the injustices committed against their House by Vorian Atreides. Together, they had studied the known records of their family’s disgrace, including both the official story from the Annals of the Jihad and the personal pain expressed by Abulurd in his private memoirs. House Harkonnen had been very important in the old days, before and during Serena Butler’s Jihad. With sadness and longing, he and Valya had gazed at images of the old family estate on Salusa Secundus, with its great house, vineyards, olive groves, and hunting grounds.

In one discussion, when they were teenagers, an animated Valya had spoken to her brother as if she faced a full audience. “We have inherent greatness, but it was unfairly taken from us through propaganda and distortions—by Vorian Atreides himself. This fundamental injustice has tarnished House Harkonnen for generations!”

Valya had always been explosively angry about this subject, and Griffin’s own feelings ran close to hers. Both of them had seen friends and relatives die on the cold and dangerous planet where the family had been exiled. Valya had long imagined how different their history might have been, often obsessing over revenge against a man who had vanished eight decades before.…

“I know where he is now, Griffin,” she said from the holo-image. “He met with the Emperor and will be departing again. He lives on a planet called Kepler—I have attached the coordinates to this recording. He has a family there, a happy home.” She paused. “I want you to take it
all
from him.”

Griffin felt cold inside. He had always hoped that revenge would not be necessary, that Vorian Atreides had died on a distant planet, with no fanfare. But the fact that he was still alive, and his location known, changed the entire equation.

“There is a difference between honor and justice,” she said. “We must have justice
first
and then begin to rebuild our honor. The festering wound must be lanced and the poison drained, before we can heal. Weller is gone, and you know that our father doesn’t have the backbone to accomplish this. I would do it myself, but my obligations to the Sisterhood prevent me. So … it falls to you to avenge our family honor.”

His brow furrowed as he listened. He wished he could reach out and touch her, talk with her, but her image continued, gathering vehemence, stirring his emotions.