Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [149]
The Baron definitely had more in mind than simple cooperation. She had never expected an easy victory over him, especially not this second time. The heads of some Minor Houses could be crushed or manipulated—the Bene Gesserit certainly knew how to do it—but this wouldn’t be the fate of House Harkonnen.
She looked at the Baron’s stygian eyes, straining with her Truthsayer abilities, but unable to see what he was thinking, unable to unravel his plans. Mohiam felt a twinge of fear deep inside, barely recognized. Just how much would the Harkonnens dare? This Baron couldn’t afford to refuse the Sisterhood’s demand, knowing what information the Bene Gesserit held against him. Or would he risk the possibility of heavy Imperial penalties?
Of equal import, would he risk a Bene Gesserit punishment? That, too, was no small matter.
At another time she might have enjoyed playing games with him, mental and physical sparring with a strong opponent. He was slippery and could bend and twist far more easily than he could break. But right now the Baron fell beneath her contempt, serving as a stud whose genes were required by the Sisterhood. She didn’t know why, or what importance this daughter might hold, but if Mohiam returned to Wallach IX with her mission unfulfilled, she would receive a severe reprimand from her superiors.
She decided not to waste any additional time. Summoning the full Voice talents the Bene Gesserit had taught her, word and tone manipulations that no untrained human could resist, she said curtly, “Cooperate with me.” It was a command she expected him to obey.
The Baron just smiled. He didn’t move, but his eyes flicked to one side. Mohiam was so startled at the ineffectiveness of Voice that she realized too late the Baron had set a different trap for her.
The Mentat Piter de Vries had already launched himself out of a hidden alcove. She turned, battle-ready, but the Mentat moved as swiftly as any Bene Gesserit could.
The Baron took it all in, and enjoyed what he was seeing.
De Vries held a crude but effective weapon in his hands. The old-fashioned neural scrambler would serve as a brutal high-powered stunning device. He fired a volley before she could move. The crackling waves slammed into her, short-circuiting her mind/muscle control.
Mohiam fell backward, twitching and wrenching with painful spasms, every square centimeter of her skin alive with imaginary biting ants.
Such a delightful effect, the Baron thought as he watched.
She dropped to the polished-stone floor, arms and legs akimbo, as if she had been squashed by a giant foot. Her head struck the hard tiles, and her ears rang from the blow. Unblinking, her eyes stared up at the vaulted ceiling. Even with extreme prana-bindu muscular control, she couldn’t move.
Finally the mocking face of the Baron loomed over her, pushing itself into her limited field of view. Her arms and legs jittered with random nerve impulses. She felt warm wetness and realized that her bladder had let go. A thin line of spittle trickled from the corner of her lip down her cheek, weaving a path to the base of her ear.
“Now then, witch,” the Baron said, “that stunner will do no permanent damage. In fact, you’ll have bodily control again in about twenty minutes. Time enough for us to get to know one another.” He walked around her, smiling, passing in and out of her peripheral vision.
Raising his voice so that electronic pickups would transmit everything to the hidden observers, he continued. “I know what false blackmail material you have fabricated against House Harkonnen, and my lawyers are prepared to deal with it in any court of the Imperium. You have threatened to use it if I don’t grant you another child, but that is a toothless threat from toothless witches.”
He paused, then smiled as if an idea had just occurred to him. “Still, I don’t mind giving you the additional daughter you desire. Really, I don’t. But know