“Security Council?” Elrood grimaced and looked first to Chamberlain Hesban, then to Fenring for assistance. “What regulation is that infernal woman citing?”
“Volume thirty, section six point three, under the Great Convention.”
“What does it say?”
Hesban took a deep breath. “It concerns situations of House-to-House warfare, in which an appeal to the Emperor has been made by one of the parties engaged in hostilities. The regulation was designed to prohibit Emperors from taking sides; in such matters you must act as a neutral arbiter. Neutral, yes— but you must act.” He shuffled his feet. “Sire, I’m afraid I don’t understand why you would wish to delay. Surely, you don’t side with . . . with the Tleilaxu?”
“There are many things you don’t understand, Aken,” the Emperor said. “Just follow my wishes.” The Chamberlain appeared stung.
“Um-m-m-m.” Fenring paced behind the high-backed chair, then snagged a crystallized fruit wafer off one of the snacking trays. “Technically the Courier is correct, Sire. You’re not allowed to delay for a day or two. The regulation also goes on to say that, if called, the Landsraad Security Council meeting cannot be concluded without a decision.” Fenring placed a finger on his lips as he considered. “The hostile parties and their representatives have a right to attend. In the Ixians’ case, their representative could be the Spacing Guild as well as Ambassador Pilru— who, I might add, has a son currently threatened by the revolt on Ix, and another son recently inducted into the Guild.”
“Remember, too, the Ambassador’s wife has been killed in the revolt,” Hesban added. “People are dying.”
“Considering our plans for the Tleilaxu to use Ixian facilities, it would be better to keep the Guild out of this, too,” Shaddam spoke up.
“Plans?” The Chamberlain looked alarmed to learn he had been kept out of such important discussions. He turned to Elrood. “What plans, Sire?”
“Later, Aken.” The Emperor frowned. Shifting uncomfortably on his chair, he tugged the robes around his sunken chest. “Damn that woman!”
“The Guildsmen are waiting with her down in the hall,” Hesban pressed. “Ambassador Pilru demands an audience with you. In only a few moments other Houses will get wind of the news, and they’ll insist on action as well— especially the ones with CHOAM directorships. Turmoil on Ix will have drastic economic consequences, at least for the immediate future.”
“Bring me the regulations and two Mentats to run independent analyses. Find something to get us out of this!” The Emperor appeared suddenly alert, pumped up by the crisis. “House Corrino must not interfere with the Tleilaxu takeover of Ix. Our future depends on it.”
“As . . . you wish, Sire.” Hesban bowed and left in a rustle of his deep blue finery, still perplexed but willing to follow orders.
Minutes later a house servant entered the anteroom carrying a projector and a blackplaz oval screen. Bustling about, the servant set up the apparatus on a table. Fenring moved it into position so the Emperor could see it better.
Hesban returned, flanked by two Mentats, their lips stained red with sapho juice. Outside the door, the Sardaukar elite guard held back several representatives who clamored for entry. Clearly recognizable above the clamor was the high-pitched, agitated voice of the Ixian Ambassador.
Fenring called up recorded data on shigawire reels as Chamberlain Hesban summarized the events and the problem for the two Imperial Mentats. Images danced above the table— black words printed in Galach. Staying close to his friend, Shaddam peered into the depths of the law as if he might spot some subtlety that had eluded everyone else.
Both Mentats stood rigid, eyes distant, as they ran their separate analyses of the law and its subsidiary codes. “To begin,” one of the Mentats said, “take a look at six point three.”
The words scrolled across the projector field in a blur, then stopped on a particular page. One of the sections was highlighted in red, and a second holo copy of the page appeared in midair. The duplicate floated to the Emperor’s lap, so that both he and the others could read it.
“Won’t work,” the second Mentat said. “Cross-reference seventy-eight point three, volume twelve.”
Leaning close, Elrood scanned the regulation. Then he passed a hand through the page, and it disappeared. “Rotten Guild,” he said. “We’ll bring them to their knees as soon as—” Fenring cleared his throat to interrupt the failing Emperor’s train of thought before he could reveal too much.
The holoprojector began searching again as the Mentats fell silent. Chamberlain Hesban leaned close to study pages that slowed in front of him.
“Blast these regulations! That’s what I’d like to do, use atomics on all the laws.” Elrood continued to fume. “Do I rule the Imperium, or don’t I? Having to pander to the Landsraad, having to avoid stepping on the Guild’s toes . . . an Emperor shouldn’t be required to bow to other powers.”
“Quite right, Sire,” Hesban acknowledged. “But we’re caught in a web of treaties and alliances.”
“Maybe this is something,” Fenring said, presently. “Jihad Appendix nineteen point oh-oh-four.” He paused. “In matters involving the Butlerian Jihad and the strictures established thereafter, the Emperor is given additional latitude to make decisions regarding punishment for those who breach the prohibition against thinking machines.”
The Emperor’s sunken eyes lit up. “Ah, and since there is some question here about possible Ixian violations, perhaps we can legally proceed with ‘all due caution.’ Especially since we have recently received disturbing reports about machine developments.”
“We have?” the Chamberlain asked.
“Certainly. Remember the self-learning fighting meks on the black market? That bears closer scrutiny.”
Shaddam and Fenring smiled at each other. They all knew such a stance might not hold up to prolonged scrutiny, but for now Elrood only needed to delay taking action. The Tleilaxu would seal their conquest in another day or two. Without outside support, House Vernius didn’t have a chance.
Hesban added, studying the precise Galach words, “According to this Appendix, the Padishah Emperor is the ‘Holy Guardian of the Jihad,’ charged with protecting it and all it represents.”
“Ah, yes. In that case, we could request to see this alleged evidence from the Tleilaxu Ambassador, and then give Pilru a set time to respond afterward.” Shaddam paused, looked at Fenring for encouragement. “By the end of the day, the Emperor could issue a request for a temporary cessation of hostilities.”
“It’ll be too late, then,” Chamberlain Hesban said.
“Exactly. Ix will fall, and there will be nothing they can do about it.”
Like many culinary delicacies, revenge is a dish best savored slowly, after long and delicate preparation.
—EMPEROR ELROOD IX,
Deathbed Insights
Half an hour later, Shaddam watched the opposing Ambassadors enter the Emperor’s anteroom for a private audience meant to “resolve the matter.” At Fenring’s suggestion, he had changed into a more formal outfit with subtle military trappings, so that while his father looked unkempt and sloppy, he had the appearance of a leader.
The Ixian Ambassador had a broad, flesh-fat face with pink cheeks. His entire body looked rumpled in a serge singlesuit with wide lapels and fluffed collar. His thin gray hair had been combed hurriedly. Since he admitted he wasn’t personally familiar with the crisis conditions on Ix, he brought along the Courier Yuta Brey, an eyewitness.
The only Tleilaxu delegate they could find, Mofra Tooy, was a man of small stature with scruffy orange hair and grayish skin. The man exuded a barely suppressed rage, seething as his small dark eyes bored holes through his Ixian counterpart. Tooy had been briefed in exactly what to say.
Ambassador Pilru remained shocked by the entire situation, only now beginning to grasp the death of his wife S’tina and mourn her. It all seemed unreal to him. A nightmare. He shifted uneasily on his feet, concerned for hi
s world, his position, and his missing son C’tair. The Ambassador’s gaze flitted around the room, looking for support among the Emperor’s advisors and staff. It gave him a chill to see their hard gazes turned back at him.
Two Guild agents hovered at the rear of the anteroom, looking on expressionlessly. One of them had a ruddy face with scars. The other’s head was misshapen, bubbled out at the back. Shaddam had seen similar people before, people who had begun training as Guild Navigators, but had failed the rigors of the selection process.
“We will hear from Mofra Tooy first,” the Emperor said in a rasping voice. “I would have him explain himself and his people’s suspicions.”
“And why they are taking such unprecedented and violent action!” Pilru interjected. The others ignored his outburst.
“We have discovered illegal activities on Ix,” the Tleilaxu began, in a childlike voice. “The Bene Tleilax felt it imperative to stop this scourge before another insidious machine intelligence could be unleashed in the Imperium. If we had waited, the human race might have been subjected to more millennia of slavery. We had no choice but to act as we did.”
“Liar!” Pilru snarled. “What makes you the enforcers of the strictures, without due process of law? You have no proof because there have been no illegal activities on Ix. We have adhered carefully to all guidelines from the Jihad.”
With remarkable calm for a Tleilaxu, Tooy kept his gaze on the others in the room, as if Pilru were beneath contempt. “Our forces took necessary action before the evidence could be destroyed. Have we not learned from the Great Revolt? Once active, a machine intelligence may become vindictive and it can develop the ability to copy itself and spread like wildfire. Ix is the source of all machine minds. We Tleilaxu are continuing the holy war only to keep the universe free of this enemy.” Though Ambassador Pilru stood two heads taller than he, Tooy screamed at him, “Jihad! Jihad!”
“Now see here, sir,” Pilru said, falling back several steps. “This behavior is uncalled-for.”
“ ‘Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a human mind,’ ” the Tleilaxu snapped. “You and House Vernius will be damned for your sins!”
“Calm yourself.” Artfully suppressing a smile, Elrood motioned for Tooy to return to his earlier position. Reluctantly, the diminutive delegate cooperated.
Pilru and the Ixian Courier conferred in low, anxious tones, before the Ambassador said, “I ask the Emperor to require proof of such violations. The Bene Tleilax have acted as a rogue element, destroying our commercial base without first submitting their accusations to the Landsraad.” Then he added quickly, “Or to the Emperor.”
“Evidence is being compiled,” Tooy responded. “And it will include the true motive behind the criminal acts you Ixians have committed. Your profit margins have been slipping, putting your CHOAM membership in jeopardy.”
Ah, Shaddam thought, exchanging glances with Hasimir Fenring. Those reports that we falsified so skillfully! No one could manipulate documents as well as Fenring.
“That’s patently false,” Pilru said. “We’re more profitable than ever, especially with our new Heighliner design. Simply ask the Guild. Your people had no right to incite such violence—”
“We had every right, the moral right, to protect the Imperium from another epoch of domination by machines. We see through your subterfuges to your motivation for making machine-minds. Is your profit worth more than the safety of humanity? You have sold your souls!”
Veins throbbed at Pilru’s temples, and he lost his ambassadorial calm. “You lying little bastard, this is a complete fabrication!” He turned to Elrood. “Sire, I demand that you send Sardaukar to Ix to intervene and protect our people from the illegal invasion committed by forces of the Bene Tleilax. We have broken no laws.”
“Violating the Butlerian Jihad is a most serious charge,” the Emperor said in a thoughtful tone, though he didn’t really care a whit about it. He covered his mouth as he coughed again. “Such an accusation cannot be taken lightly. Think of the consequences . . .” Elrood spoke with deliberate slowness, which Shaddam found amusing. The Crown Prince couldn’t help admiring some things about his doomed father, but Elrood was far beyond his prime, and it was time for new blood to step in.
The Courier spoke up. “Emperor Elrood, the Tleilaxu are stalling for time while battles rage on Ix. Use your Sardaukar to enforce a cessation of hostilities, then let each side present its case and evidence in court.”
The Emperor’s eyebrows arched, and he gazed down his thin nose at her. “As a mere Courier, you are not qualified to present arguments to me.” He flicked his glance at the Sardaukar guards. “Remove this woman.”
Desperation gave her voice a ragged edge. “Pardon, Sire, but I am the one most familiar with the crisis on Ix, and my Lord Vernius instructed me to take all necessary steps. We demand that the Bene Tleilax present proof immediately, or withdraw their forces. They aren’t compiling evidence. That’s just a delaying tactic!”
“When can you submit the proof to me?” the Emperor inquired, sliding his gaze to Tooy.
“Alleged proof,” Pilru objected.
“Three Imperial days, Sire.”
Gasps of protest issued from the Ixians. “But, Sire, in that amount of time, they can solidify their military gains— fabricate any evidence they wish.” Pilru’s eyes glittered. “They have already murdered my wife, destroyed buildings . . . My son is missing. Please do not allow them to continue their rampage unchecked for three days!”
The Emperor considered this for a moment, while the assemblage grew quiet. “I’m sure you are exaggerating the unpleasantness to force me into making a rash decision. Considering the gravity of the charges, I’m inclined to await the evidence, or lack of it.” He looked at his Chamberlain. “What say you, Aken? Does that follow the letter of Imperial Law in a situation such as this?” Hesban murmured in concurrence.
Elrood nodded at Pilru as if he were granting him an incredible personal favor. “I think, however, that the proof should be submitted in two days instead of three. Can you accomplish that, Ambassador Tooy?”
“It will be difficult, Sire, but . . . as you wish.”
Aghast, Pilru flushed with anger. “My Lord, how can you side against us with these . . . these filthy Tleilaxu?”
“Ambassador, your prejudice is not welcome here in my Imperial anteroom. I have nothing but the utmost respect for your Earl . . . and, of course, his Lady Shando.”
Shaddam looked at the Guild agents at the rear of the room. In subdued tones they conversed in a secret language. Presently they nodded to each other. A violation of the Butlerian Jihad was a most serious matter to them.
“But in two days my planet will be lost.” Pilru sent a pleading look to the Guildsmen for support, but they remained silent and would not make eye contact.
“You can’t do this— you’ll doom our people to destruction!” Yuta Brey shouted at Elrood.
“Messenger, you are impertinent, just like Dominic Vernius. Tax my patience no more.” Looking sternly at the Tleilaxu representative, Elrood commanded: “Ambassador Tooy, bring me your proof—incontrovertible proof— within two days, or withdraw your forces from Ix.”
Mofra Tooy bowed. Concealed from the Guildsmen directly behind him, a slight smile worked briefly at the edges of his mouth, then faded.
“Very well then,” the Ixian Ambassador said, trembling now with rage. “I hereby demand an immediate Security Council session of the Landsraad.”
“And you shall have it, precisely according to law,” Elrood said. “I have already acted in the manner I believe best serves the Imperium. Mofra Tooy here will address the Council in two days, and you may do the same. If you wish to return to your planet in the meantime, I will divert an express Heighliner for your use. But be warned, if these charges are indeed valid, Ambassador, House Vernius will have much to atone for.”
• • •
Wiping perspiration from his shaven head, Dominic Vernius studie
d his Ambassador to Kaitain. Pilru had just delivered a shocking report to the Earl and his Lady. The man was clearly anxious to search for his missing son in the chaos of the underground city, though he had been back on the planet for less than an hour. They stood together in a subterranean operations center, deep within the ceiling of rock, since the transparent Orb Office in the Grand Palais was too vulnerable in time of war. Machinery sounds could be heard, tube transports moving Ixian troops and equipment through the catacombs of the planetary crust.
The defensive battles had not been going well. Through well-planned sabotage and carefully arranged bottlenecks, Tleilaxu now controlled most of the underworld, and the Ixians were being herded into smaller and smaller areas. The rebellious suboids vastly outnumbered the besieged Ixian defenders, and the Tleilaxu invaders took full advantage, manipulating the pale-skinned workers with ease.
“Elrood has betrayed us, my love,” Dominic said, holding his wife. They had only the dirty clothes on their backs and a few household treasures they had managed to rescue. He understood everything now, though. “I knew the Emperor hated me, but I never expected such loathsome behavior, not even from him. If only I could prove it.”
Looking pale and more fragile than ever, though her eyes flared with iron determination, the Lady Shando drew a deep breath. Delicate lines etched around her exquisite eyes and mouth were the only indications of her advancing age, subtle reminders to Dominic to treasure her beauty, love, and fine character more each day. Stepping to his side, she looped one arm through his. “Maybe if I went to him and threw myself on his mercy? He might be reasonable, for whatever memories he still holds of me. . . . “
“I wouldn’t let you do it. He hates you now and resents me for marrying you. Roody is beyond compassion.” Dominic clenched his fists and studied Ambassador Pilru’s face, but found no hope there. Looking back at Shando, he said, “Knowing him, he’s undoubtedly set up intrigues so complex that he couldn’t withdraw now if he wanted to.
Dune: House Atreides Page 28