Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [173]
He remembered his father lecturing him: “When you find yourself in the midst of a seemingly impossible crisis, take care of the solvable parts first. Then, after you’ve narrowed the possibilities, work on the most difficult aspects.”
He heard Rhombur shouting into the shore-com, repeating the distress call. Leto now ignored the fire. The coracle was sinking, and would soon be underwater, leaving them stranded. He looked toward the port side and saw frothing water around the tangle of the reef. He dashed for the cabin.
Before the fire could reach the aft engines, he started the boat, used the emergency cutoff to sever the anchor, and raced toward the reef. The flaming coracle was like a comet on the water.
“What are you doing?” Rhombur cried. “Where are we going?”
“The reef!” he shouted. “I’ll try to run aground there so we don’t sink. Then you and I can work to put out the fire.”
“You’re going to crash us into a reef? That’s crazy!”
“You’d rather sink out here? This boat is going down, one way or another.” As if to emphasize his point another small container of fuel exploded belowdecks, sending a shudder through the floor.
Rhombur grasped the secured galley table to keep his balance. “Whatever you say.”
“Did you get an acknowledgment on the shore-com?”
“No. I, uh, hope they heard us.” Leto told him to keep trying, which he did, still without receiving a response.
The waves curled around them, low to the deck rail. Black smoke poured into the sky. Fire licked at the engine compartment. The coracle dipped lower, dragging, taking on water rapidly. Leto pushed the engines, still charging toward the rocks. He didn’t know if he would win this race. If he could just run them up on the reef, he and Rhombur could stay safely beside the wreckage. He didn’t know how long it would take for rescuers to arrive.
As if driven by a demon, whitecaps rose in front of them, threatening to form a barrier. But Leto held course and did not slacken the acceleration. “Hang on!”
At the last moment, the engines died as fire engulfed them. The coracle cruised forward on sheer momentum and crashed into the jagged reef. The grinding halt threw both Leto and Rhombur to the deck. Rhombur struck his head and stood up, blinking, dazed. Blood trickled down his forehead, very close to the old injury he had received during the orship escape from Ix.
“Let’s go! Overboard!” Leto yelled. He grabbed his friend’s arm and pushed him out of the cabin. From the forward compartment, Leto tossed hoses and portable pumps into the frothing water. “Dip this end of the hose into the deepest water you can reach! And try not to cut yourself on the reef.”
Rhombur scrambled over the rail, while Leto followed, trying to maintain his balance in the churning tide pools and rough surf. The boat was snagged, so for the moment they needn’t worry about drowning—just discomfort.
The pumps started, and seawater sprayed out of two hoses, one held by each boy. The water fell in a thick curtain onto the flames. Rhombur swiped blood out of his eyes and kept directing his hose. They doused the coracle with endless torrents until finally, slowly, the flames began to die back.
Rhombur looked bedraggled and miserable, but Leto felt oddly exhilarated. “Perk up, Rhombur. Think about it. On Ix we had to escape from a revolution that nearly destroyed the whole planet. Makes this little mishap seem like child’s play, wouldn’t you say?”
“Uh, right,” the other said, glumly. “Most fun I’ve had in ages.”
The two of them sat waist deep in the surging water, playing their hoses over the fire. Smoke continued to rise into the clear Caladan sky like a distress beacon.
Soon they heard the distant but increasing roar of powerful engines, and moments later a high-speed wingboat came into view, a double-hulled craft capable of reaching tremendous speeds over the water. It drew near and swung clear of the rocks. On the foredeck stood Thufir Hawat, shaking his head at Leto in disapproval.
Among the responsibilities of command is the necessity to punish