Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [116]
Questions fell in an avalanche around Leto. Tleilaxu? Why would they attack Ix? Jihad? This is a machine planet . . . and the Tleilaxu are religious fanatics. Do they fear Ixian machines enough to use their tank-grown shape-shifters to infiltrate the suboid workforce? That would explain the coordination. But why would they be so interested? Why here?
As the railcar soared along, Zhaz scrutinized the comboard, where he received battle reports. “By all the saints and sinners! Tleilaxu engineers have just blown the pipelines that feed heat from the molten core of the planet.”
“But we need that energy to run the factories,” Rhombur cried, still hanging on to his seat.
“They’ve also destroyed recycling lines where the industrial waste and exhaust chemicals are dumped into the mantle.” Now the captain’s voice sounded more ragged. “They’re hitting at the heart of Ix—paralyzing our manufacturing capacity.”
As Leto thought back on what he had learned during his months on this planet, pieces of the puzzle began fitting together in his mind. “Think about it,” he said, “all of that can be fixed. They knew exactly where to hit in order to cripple Ix without causing permanent damage. . . . “ Leto gave a grim nod, the reason suddenly clear to him. “The Tleilaxu want this world and its facilities intact. They plan to take over here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Leto. We’d never give Ix to the filthy Tleilaxu.” Rhombur looked perplexed more than miffed.
“We may not . . . have any choice in the matter, sir,” Zhaz said.
At Rhombur’s barked command for weapons one of the guards opened a cabinet beneath the railcar and brought out a pair of fléchette pistols and shield belts, which he handed to both Princes.
Without questioning, Leto snapped on the belt, touched a test button to confirm that the unit was operational. The projectile weapon felt cold in his hand. He checked its clip of deadly darts, accepted two additional packs from the guard, and slid them into compartments on the shield belt.
The escape pod thundered into a long, dark tunnel. Ahead, Leto saw light, which grew larger and brighter by the second. He remembered what his father had said to him about the Tleilaxu: “They destroy anything that resembles a thinking machine.” Ix would have been a natural target for them.
The light ahead touched them now, dazzling his eyes, and they roared into it.
Religion and law among the masses must be one and the same. An act of disobedience must be a sin and require religious penalties. This will have the dual benefit of bringing both greater obedience and greater bravery. We must depend not so much on the bravery of individuals, you see, as upon the bravery of a whole population.
—PARDOT KYNES, address to gathered
representatives of the greater sietches
Oblivious to the fate that had been decided for him, Pardot Kynes strolled through the tunnels, accompanied by his now-faithful companions Ommun and Turok. The three went to visit Stilgar, who rested and healed in his family chambers.
At first sight of his visitor, a lean Stilgar sat forward on his sickbed. Though his wound should have been fatal, the Fremen youth had almost entirely recovered in a short time. “I owe you the water of my life, Planetologist,” he said, and with great seriousness spat upon the floor of the cave.
Kynes was startled for a moment, then thought he understood. He knew the importance of water to these people, especially the precious moisture contained within a person’s body. For Stilgar to sacrifice even a droplet of saliva showed him a great honor. “I . . . appreciate your water, Stilgar,” Kynes said with a forced smile. “But you may keep the rest of it for now. I want you to be well.”
Frieth, Stilgar’s quiet sister, stayed by the young man’s bedside, always busy, her blue-in-blue eyes darting from side to side in search of something else to do. She looked long at Kynes, as if assessing him, but her