“I’m really sorry,” Leto said. “I meant no trespass.” His heart pounded. Sweat sparkled on his brow, and he sensed extreme danger.
Several suboids began to move toward him like automatons, picking up speed.
Leto offered them his most congenial smile. “If you’d like, I can speak with Earl Vernius for you, bring some of your grievances—”
The suboids closed in, and Leto bolted and ran. He rushed back through the low corridors, turning at random, ducking down passageways as the workers hurried, ineffectually pursuing and growling in anger. They flooded out, spreading into side corridors in their search for him, and Leto could not remember the way back to the open cavern. . . .
The fact that he got lost probably saved him. The suboids continued to block his retreat, attempting to intercept him in corridors that led to the surface. But Leto didn’t know where he was going and took blind turns, sometimes hiding in empty alcoves, until finally he reached a small maintenance door that spilled out into the dusty air under the glaring lights of industrial glowglobes.
Several suboids, seeing his silhouette in the doorway, shouted from deep below, but Leto raced out to an emergency lift tube. He swept his bioscram card through the reader and gained access to the upper levels.
Shaking in the aftermath of a burned-out adrenaline rush, Leto couldn’t believe what he had just heard and didn’t know what the suboids would have done had they caught him. He had been astonished enough to see their outrage and their reactions. Intellectually, he couldn’t believe they would have killed him— not the son of Duke Atreides, an honored guest of House Vernius. He had offered to help them, after all.
But the suboids clearly held a deep potential for violence, a frightening darkness that they had managed to hide from their oblivious rulers above.
Leto wondered with dread if perhaps there might be other enclaves of dissent, other groups with similarly charismatic speakers who could manage to tap into the low-level dissatisfaction of the vast worker population.
As he rode up in the lift chamber, Leto looked down and saw the workers below, innocently acting out their roles, carrying out their daily routines. He knew he had to report what he had overheard. But would anyone believe him?
He realized with a tightness in his stomach that he was learning far more about Ix than he had ever meant to know.
Hope can be the greatest weapon of a downtrodden people, or the greatest enemy of those who are about to fail. We must remain aware of its advantages and its limitations.
—LADY HELENA ATREIDES,
her personal journals
After weeks of aimless journeying, the cargo ship dropped out of the orbiting Heighliner and sped down toward the cloud-swirled atmosphere of Caladan.
For Duncan Idaho, the end of his long ordeal seemed at hand.
From his stowaway spot in the cluttered cargo bay, Duncan shifted a heavy box. Its metal corners grated across the deckplates, but he finally got the burden out of the way so he could remove the cover flange on a small windowport. Leaning close to the protective plaz, Duncan stared down at the ocean-rich world. Finally, he began to believe.
Caladan. My new home.
Even from high orbit, Giedi Prime had looked dark and forbidding, like an infected sore. But Caladan, home of the legendary Duke Atreides— mortal enemy of the Harkonnens— seemed like a sapphire sparkling with a blaze of sunlight.
After everything that had happened to him, it still seemed impossible that the surly and treacherous woman Janess Milam had actually been true to her word. She had rescued him for her own petty reasons, her own spiteful revenge, but that did not matter to Duncan. He was here.
• • •
It had been worse than a nightmare, which he relived in the brooding days as the Heighliner journeyed from system to system in a roundabout way to Caladan:
In the darkness of Forest Guard Station, as he had approached the mysterious flitter ’thopter, the woman had snatched Duncan, gripping tightly before he could defend himself. The young boy had reacted with fear and frantic struggles, but Janess yanked his arm, breaking open the hardened newskin he’d placed over the deep cut in his shoulder.
With surprising strength the dusky-skinned woman hauled him inside the small flitter and sealed the entry hatch. Yowling like a wild animal, Duncan thrashed and clawed, trying to writhe away from her grip. He pounded on the curved hatch, desperate to get out, to run once again into the night filled with armed hunters.
But instead, the flitter’s door remained locked. Panting, Janess released the boy, tossed her chocolate hair, and glared at him. “If you don’t stop it right now, Idaho, I’m going to dump you in the laps of those Harkonnen hunters.”
Turning away from him with disdain, she powered up the flitter’s engines. Duncan could feel an ominous hum travel through the small craft, vibrating through the seat and floor. He crouched back against the wall.
“You’ve already betrayed me to the Harkonnens! You were the one who made those men take my parents and murder them. You’re the reason I had to train so hard, and why they’re hunting me now. I know what you did!”
“Yeah, well, things have changed.” She raised a dusky hand in a meaningless gesture, turning toward the piloting controls. “I’m not helping Harkonnens anymore, not after what they did to me.”
Indignant, Duncan clenched his fists at his sides. Blood from the reopened wound seeped onto his tattered shirt. “What did they do to you?” He couldn’t imagine anything that even approached the anguish he and his family had endured.
“You wouldn’t understand. You’re just a youngster, another one of their pawns.” Janess smiled as she raised the flitter up off the ground. “But through you, I can get back at them.”
Duncan sneered. “Maybe I’m just a boy, but I spent all night beating the Harkonnens at their hunting game. I watched Rabban kill my mother and father. Who knows what else they’ve done to my uncles, aunts, and cousins?”
“I doubt there’s anyone left alive on Giedi Prime with the name of Idaho— especially after the embarrassment you caused them tonight. Tough luck.”
“If they did that, it was a waste of effort,” he said, trying to hide the pain. “I didn’t know my relatives anyway.”
Janess increased the flitter’s speed, boosting them low across the dark trees and away from the wilderness preserve. “Right now, I’m helping you get away from the hunters, so just shut up and be glad. You don’t have any other options.”
She ran the craft without lights, keeping her engines masked, though Duncan couldn’t imagine how they could ever escape from prying Harkonnen eyes. He had killed several of the hunters— and worse, he had outwitted and humiliated Rabban.
Duncan allowed himself the slightest satisfied smile. Coming forward, he slumped exhausted into a seat beside Janess, who had strapped herself into the pilot’s chair. “Why should I trust you?”
“Did I ask you to trust me?” She flashed a dark-eyed glance at him. “Just take advantage of the situation.”
“Are you going to tell me anything?”
Janess flew in silence for a long moment, racing over the bunched treetops before she answered. “It’s true. Yeah, I reported your parents to the Harkonnens. I’d heard rumors, knew your mother and father had done something to get the officials angry— and the Harkonnens don’t like people who make them angry. I was looking out for myself and saw an advantage. By turning them in, I thought I might get a reward. Besides, your parents caused the problem themselves in the first place. They made the mistakes. I was just trying to cash in on it. Nothing personal. Somebody else would have done it, if I hadn’t.”
Duncan scowled, clenching his grimy hands. He wished he had the nerve to use his knife on this woman, but that would cause the flitter to crash. She was his only way out. For now.
Her face contorted into an angry grimace. “But what did the Harkonnens give me in return? A reward, a promotion? No— nothing. A kick in the teeth. Not even a ‘thank you very
much.’ ” A troubled look crossed her face, disappearing as quickly as a tiny cloud scudding across the sun. “It’s not easy to do something like that, you know. You think I enjoyed it? But on Giedi Prime opportunities arise rarely enough, and I’d watched too many of them pass me by.
“This should have really changed things for me. But when I approached them to ask for the slightest bit of consideration, they threw me out and ordered me not to come back again. It was all for nothing, and that makes it even worse.” Her nostrils flared. “Nobody does that to Janess Milam without risking plenty.”
“So you’re not doing this for me at all,” Duncan said. “Not because you feel guilty about what you did and all the pain you caused people. You just want to get even with the Harkonnens.”
“Hey, kid, just take your breaks where you can get them.”
Duncan rummaged in one of the storage compartments until he found two fruit-rice bars and a sealed bubble of juice. Without asking, he tore into the packets and began stuffing himself. The bars tasted only faintly of cinnamon, a flavor-enhancer to simulate melange.
“You’re welcome,” Janess said sarcastically.
He didn’t reply, chewed loudly.
All night long the flitter soared over the lowlands toward the forbidding city of Barony. For a moment Duncan thought she intended to dump him back into prison, where he would have to go through everything all over again. He slipped his hand into his pocket, felt the handle of his dull knife. But Janess flew the unmarked craft beyond the prison complex and headed south, past a dozen cities and villages.
They had stopped for a day, hiding out during the afternoon, replenishing their supplies at a small way station. Janess provided him with a blue singlesuit, cleaned up his wound as best she could, and crudely administered medical treatment. She tended him with no special care, but merely expressed the hope that he would not draw attention to himself.
At dusk they set off again, heading far south to an independent spaceport. Duncan didn’t know the names of the places they visited, nor did he ask. No one had ever taught him geography. Whenever he bothered to venture a question, Janess invariably snapped at him or ignored him entirely.
The spaceport complex carried a flavor of rough mercantile personnel and the Guild rather than the cumbersome Harkonnen style. It was functional and efficient, with endurance emphasized over luxury or eye appeal. Corridors and rooms were large enough for the movement of enclosed tanks holding Guild Navigators.
Janess parked the flitter-thopter where she could easily retrieve it, then set her own hot-wired security systems before leaving the craft behind. “Follow me,” she said. With young Duncan in tow, she marched out into the bustle and chaos of the spaceport. “I’ve made some arrangements. But if you get lost here, I’m not looking for you.”
“Why shouldn’t I just run? I don’t trust you.”
“I’m going to put you on a ship that’ll take you away from Giedi Prime, far from the Harkonnens.” She looked down at him, goading. “Your choice, kid. I don’t need any more trouble from you.”
Duncan clenched his teeth and followed her without further comment.
Janess tracked down a battered cargo craft swarming with workers who loaded scuffed cases on board. Using suspensor pads, they dragged heavy pallets into the holding bay and stacked them haphazardly.
“Second mate of this ship is an old friend of mine,” Janess said. “He owes me a favor.”
Duncan did not ask what kind of people a woman like Janess Milam would consider friends . . . or what she had done to earn herself such a favor.
“I’m not going to pay a single solari for your passage, Idaho— your family has already cost my conscience enough, ruined my standing with the Harkonnen overlords, and got me nothing. But my friend Renno says you can ride in the hold, just as long as you don’t eat anything other than standard rations or cost anyone time or credits.”
Duncan watched the spaceport activities around him. He had no real conception of what life would be like on any other world. The cargo ship looked old and unimpressive— but if it provided him with passage away from Giedi Prime, then it was a golden bird from heaven.
Janess took him roughly by his arm and marched him toward the loading ramp. His sore shoulder throbbed. “They’re hauling recyclable materials and other salvage, which they’ll take to a processing station on Caladan. That’s the home of House Atreides . . . archenemies of the Harkonnens. You know about the feud between those Houses?” When Duncan shook his head, Janess laughed. “Of course not. How would a little dirt rodent like you have learned anything about the Landsraad and the Great Houses?”
She stopped one of the workers guiding a precariously loaded suspensor platform. “Where’s Renno? Tell him Janess Milam is here and I want to see him right away.” She glanced down at Duncan, who stood up straight and tried to look presentable. “Tell him I brought the package I promised.”
Touching a communicator on his lapel, the man mumbled something into it. Then, without acknowledging Janess, he pushed his load up into the squat cargo hauler.
Duncan waited, analyzing the activity around him, while Janess frowned and fidgeted. Before long, a grubby-looking man emerged, his skin smeared with colored lubricants, grime, and oily sweat.
“Renno!” Janess waved to him. “It’s about damn time!”
He gave her a tight embrace, followed by a long and wet kiss. Janess broke away as quickly as she could and pointed to Duncan. “There he is. Take him to Caladan.” She smiled. “I can’t think of a better revenge than to deliver this boy right where they least want him to be— and where they’re least likely to find him.”
“You play dangerous games, Janess,” Renno said.
“I enjoy games.” She balled her fist and playfully punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Renno raised his eyebrows. “What’s the point of coming back to this scummy port if you’re not here waiting for me? Who’d keep me company in a dark and lonely bunk? Nah, it wouldn’t be worth my while to turn you in. But you still owe me.”
Before going, Janess knelt and fixed her eyes on young Duncan Idaho. She seemed to be trying for some semblance of compassion. “Look, kid. Here’s what I want you to do. When you get to Caladan, step off that ship and insist on seeing Duke Paulus Atreides himself. Duke Atreides. Tell him you’ve come from the Harkonnens, and demand to be taken into service in his household.”
Renno’s eyebrows shot high on his forehead, and he muttered something unintelligible.
Janess kept her face firm and intent, thinking to play a last cruel joke on the boy she had betrayed. She realized there would be no chance whatsoever that a dirty, nameless street urchin could possibly set foot in the Grand Hall of Castle Caladan— but that wouldn’t stop him from trying . . . maybe for years.
She’d already had her victory by stealing the boy from Rabban’s hunting party. She had known they were taking Duncan to the Forest Guard Station and so she made a particular effort to find him, to snatch him away and turn him over to the Harkonnens’ greatest enemies. Whatever else happened to the boy was now irrelevant to her, but Janess amused herself by imagining all the tribulations Duncan Idaho would undergo before finally giving up.
“Come on,” Renno said gruffly, pulling Duncan’s arm. “I’ll find you a place in the cargo hold, where you can sleep and hide.”
Duncan didn’t look back at Janess. He wondered if she expected him to say goodbye or thank her for what she’d done, but he refused to do that. She hadn’t helped him because she cared, or even out of remorse. No, he wouldn’t demean himself, and he could never forgive Janess for her part in destroying his family. Strange woman.
He walked up the ramp, looking straight ahead, not knowing where he was going. Lost and parentless, without any idea of what he would do next, Duncan Idaho headed off. . . .
• • •
Renno gave him no comfort and little nourishment, but at least he left the boy in peace. What Duncan Idaho n
eeded most in the entire universe was time to recover, a few days to sort out his memories and learn to live with the ones he could not forget.
He slept alone like a rat in the cargo hold of the battered transport, surrounded by scrap metal and recyclables. None of it was soft, but he still slept well enough on the rust-smelling floor, with his back against a cold bulkhead. It was the most peaceful time he’d had in recent memory.
Finally, when the ship descended toward Caladan to deliver its load and dump him alone and friendless on a strange world, Duncan was ready for anything. He had his drive and his energy; nothing would sway him from his chosen quest.
Now he just had to find Duke Paulus Atreides.
History allows us to see the obvious— but unfortunately, not until it is too late.
—PRINCE RAPHAEL CORRINO
When he surveyed Leto’s bedraggled black hair, his dust-smeared clothes, and the perspiration streaks down his cheeks, Rhombur actually chuckled. He meant no insult by his response, but seemed incapable of believing the preposterous story Leto had told. He stood back and assessed his friend. “Vermilion hells! Don’t you think you’re, uh . . . overreacting a bit, Leto?”
Rhombur strode over to one of the broad windows. Alcoves all along the wall of the stocky Prince’s room displayed handpicked geological oddities, his delight and pride. Far beyond the amenities of his station as the Earl’s son, Rhombur found joy in his collection of minerals, crystals, and gems. He could have purchased more magnificent specimens many times over, but the Prince had personally found each rock in his own explorations of cave floors and small tunnels.
But in all his explorations, Rhombur— indeed, the entire Vernius ruling family— had been blind to the unrest among the workers. Now Leto understood why the Old Duke had insisted that his son learn to read his subjects and know the mood of the populace. “At the heart of it all, lad, we rule at their sufferance,” Paulus had told him, “though thankfully most of the population doesn’t realize it. If you’re a good enough ruler, none of your people will think to question it.”
Dune: House Atreides Page 21