Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [171]
“Just keeping you out of trouble is, uh, effort enough,” Rhombur countered.
After the coracle was secured on its anchor cord, Leto pointed a scanner overboard to map out the contours of the reefs below. “Look at this,” he said, letting his friend view the screen. “See those crannies and tiny caves? That’s where you’ll find the coral gems.”
Rhombur peered at the scanner, nodding.
“Each one is encrusted with a husk, like an organic scab that grows around them. Doesn’t look like much until you crack one open and see the most beautiful pearls in all creation, like molten droplets from a star. You have to keep them wet at all times, because the open air oxidizes them instantly and they become extremely pyrophoric.”
“Oh,” Rhombur said, unsure what the word meant, though he was too proud to ask. Fumbling, he attached his belt, which held the spatula-knife and a small waterlume for probing the darkest caves.
“I’ll show you when we get down there,” Leto said. “How long can you hold your breath?”
“As long as you,” the Prince of Ix said, “naturally.”
Leto stripped off his shirt and pants, while Rhombur hurried to do the same. Simultaneously, both young men dived overboard. Leto stroked downward into the warm water, pulling himself deeper until he felt the pressure around his skull.
The large reef was a convoluted, permanently submerged landscape. Tufts of coralweed waved in the gentle currents, the tiny mouths on their leaves snaring bits of plankton. Jewel-toned fish darted in and out of holes in the layered coral.
Rhombur grabbed his arm and pointed at a long purplish eel that drifted by, streaming a rainbow-hued, feathery tail. The Ixian looked comical with his cheeks swollen, trying to hold in his air.
Grasping the rough coral, Leto pulled himself along and peered into cracks and crevices. He shined the beam of his waterlume all around in his search. With his lungs aching, he finally found a discolored knob and signaled for Rhombur, who swam over. But as Leto pulled out his spatula-knife to pry free the coral gem, Rhombur flailed his arms and swam upward as fast as he could, his air exhausted.
Leto remained beneath the water, though his chest pounded. Finally, he pried loose the nodule, which would likely yield a medium-sized coral gem. With it he swam upward, his chest ready to burst, and finally splashed to the surface where Rhombur clung, panting, to the edge of the coracle.
“Found one,” Leto said. “Look.” Holding the gem underneath the water, he tapped it with the blunt edge of his knife until the outer covering cracked free. Inside, a slightly misshapen ovoid gleamed with self-contained pearly light. Tiny glimmering specks circulated like molten sand trapped within transparent epoxy.
“Exquisite,” Rhombur said.
Dripping wet, Leto climbed out of the water and onto the midship deck, by the lifeboat station. He dipped a bucket overboard, filling it with seawater, and dropped the coral gem inside before it could dry out in his hands. “Now you have to find one of your own.”
With his blond hair plastered to his head by seawater, the Prince nodded, drew several deep gulps of air, then swam downward again. Leto dived after him.
Within an hour the pair had gathered half a bucket of the beautiful gems. “Nice haul,” Leto said, squatting on the deck beside Rhombur, who, fascinated with the treasure, dipped his fingers into the bucket. “You like those?”
Rhombur grunted. His eyes danced with a child’s delight.
“I’ve worked up quite an appetite,” Leto said. “I’ll go prep the foodpaks.”
“I’m starving, too,” Rhombur said. “Uh, need any help?”
Leto drew himself up and raised his aquiline nose haughtily in the air. “Sir, I am the resident ducal heir, with a long résumé asserting my competence to prepare a simple foodpak.” He strutted to the sheltered galley as Rhombur sorted through the wet coral stones, like a kid playing with marbles.
Some were perfectly spherical, others misshapen and pitted. Rhombur wondered