Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [175]
“This bores me,” Rabban said. “No challenge just to stand here and watch.”
“Some punishments are easy,” the Baron observed, “but easy isn’t always sufficient. Erasing this woman does nothing to erase the black mark she made on the honor of House Harkonnen . . . with the help of House Atreides.”
“Then let’s do more,” Rabban said with a thick-lipped grin, “to the Atreides.”
The Baron felt the heat shimmering on his exposed face, absorbed the thrumming silence of the baked desert. When he smiled, the skin on his cheeks threatened to crack. “Maybe we will.”
“What, Uncle?”
“Perhaps it’s time to get rid of the Old Duke. No more thorns in our side.”
Rabban bubbled with anticipation.
With a calmness designed to agitate his nephew, the Baron focused the oil lenses of his binoculars and scanned the distance at varying magnifications. He hoped to spot the wormsign himself rather than relying on the security ornithopters. Finally he sensed the tremors approaching. He felt his pulse synchronize with the thumper: Lump . . . lump . . . lump . . .
Crescent dune tracks spread shadow ripples toward the horizon, an elongated mound-in-motion, a cresting of sand like a big fish swimming just under the surface. In the still, hot air, the Baron heard the rasping, abrasive sound of the slithering beast. Excitedly, he grabbed Rabban’s elbow and pointed.
The com-unit at Rabban’s ear chirped, and a filtered voice spoke so loudly that the Baron could hear the muffled words. Rabban swatted at the device. “We know! We see it.”
The Baron continued his musings as the buried worm approached like a locomotive. “I’ve kept up my contacts with . . . individuals on Caladan, you know. The Old Duke is a creature of habit. And habits can be dangerous.” He smiled, his lips hard, his eyes squinting against the glare. “We’ve already put operatives in place, and I have a plan.”
Far out in the dunes ahead of them, Janess spun around and ran in blind panic. She had seen the oncoming worm.
The rippling upheaval of sand reached the thumper in the lee of a whaleback dune. In an explosion like a tidal wave engulfing a dock, the thumper vanished into an immense mouth lined with crystal teeth.
“Move the platform,” the Baron urged. “Follow her!” Rabban worked the suspensor controls, floating them up over the desert for a better view of the action.
Following the vibrations of the woman’s footsteps, the worm changed course. The sand rippled again as the behemoth dived underground and prowled like a shark searching for new prey.
Janess collapsed on the top of a dune, shuddering, holding her knees up against her chin as she tried not to make any sound that might attract the great worm. Sand skittered around her. She froze, held her breath.
The monster paused. Janess huddled in terror, praying silently.
Rabban brought the suspensor platform above the trapped woman. Janess glared up at the Harkonnens, her jaw clenched, her eyes like daggers, a cornered animal afraid to move.
Baron Harkonnen reached down to grab an empty bottle of spice liquor, drained during their long hot wait for her execution. He raised the brown glass bottle as if in a toast, grinning.
The sandworm waited underground, alert for even a fractional movement.
The Baron tossed the bottle at the dusky-skinned woman. The glass tumbled in the air, reflecting glints of sunlight, end over end. It struck the sand within meters of Janess’s feet with a loud thunk.
The worm lunged into motion, toward her.
Screaming curses at the Harkonnens, Janess plunged down the hillside, followed by a small avalanche of sand. But the ground dropped out from underneath her, like a gaping trapdoor.
The mouth of the worm rose up, a cavern of glittering teeth in the sunlight to swallow Janess and everything around her. A puff of dust drifted on the wavering air as the huge worm sank back under the sands, like a whale beneath the sea.
Rabban touched his com-unit, demanding to know whether the spotting craft overhead had taken high-resolution holos. “I didn’t even see her blood, didn’t hear