Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [21]
Another outpost to the southwest, Arrakeen, was a more primitive city that had grown slowly, naturally, nestled against a mountainous barrier called the Shield Wall. Perhaps Kynes should have gone there first. But political requirements had forced him to establish his base with the rulers of the planet.
At least that had given him the opportunity to search for one of the giant sandworms.
The large ’thopter transport carrying Rabban’s hunting party lifted off, and soon Kynes received his initial glimpse of the true desert. Kynes peered out the windowplaz at the rippled wastelands below. From experiences in other desert regions, he was able to identify dune patterns . . . shapes and sinuous curves that revealed much about seasonal wind patterns, prevailing air currents, and the severity of storms. So much could be learned from studying these ripples and lines, the fingerprints of weather. He pressed his face to the plaz observation ports; none of the other passengers appeared to be interested at all.
The Harkonnen troops fidgeted, hot in their heavy blue uniforms and armor. Their weapons clattered against each other and scraped the floor plates. The men seemed uneasy without their personal body-shields, but the presence of a shield and its Holtzman field would drive any nearby worms into a killing frenzy. Today, Rabban himself wanted to do the killing.
Glossu Rabban, the twenty-one-year-old son of the planet’s former lackluster governor, sat up front near the pilot, looking for targets out on the sand. With severely cropped brown hair, he was broad-shouldered, deep-voiced, and short-tempered. Icy pale blue eyes looked out from a sunburned face. He seemed to do everything possible to be the opposite of his father.
“Will we see worm tracks from the sky?” he asked.
Behind him, Thekar the desert guide leaned very close, as if wishing to remain within Rabban’s personal space. “The sands shift and mask the passage of a worm. Often they travel deep. You will not see a worm moving until it approaches the surface and is ready to attack.”
The tall, angular Kynes listened intently, taking mental notes. He wanted to record all of these details in his logbook, but that would have to wait until later.
“Then how are we going to find one? I heard the open desert is crawling with worms.”
“Not that simple, m’Lord Rabban,” Thekar responded. “The great worms have their own domains, some extending to hundreds of square kilometers. Within these boundaries they hunt and kill any intruders.”
Growing impatient, Rabban turned around in his seat. His skin grew darker. “How do we know where to find a worm’s domain?”
Thekar smiled, and his dark, close-set eyes took on a distant look. “All of the desert is owned by Shai-Hulud.”
“By what? Stop evading my questions.” Within another moment, Kynes was sure Rabban would cuff the desert man across the jaw.
“You have been on Arrakis for so long, and you did not know this, m’Lord Rabban? The Fremen consider the great sandworms to be gods,” Thekar answered quietly. “They name him, collectively, Shai-Hulud.”
“Then today we shall kill a god,” Rabban announced in a loud voice, causing the other hunters in the back of the compartment to cheer. He turned sharply toward the desert guide. “I depart for Giedi Prime in two days, and must have a trophy to take back with me. This hunt will be successful.”
Giedi Prime, Kynes thought. Ancestral homeworld of House Harkonnen. At least I won’t have to worry about him once he’s gone.
“You will have your trophy, m’Lord,” Thekar promised.
“No doubt about that,” Rabban said, but in a more ominous tone.
Seated alone in the rear of the troop transport, huddled in his desert gear, Kynes felt uncomfortable in such company. He had no interest in the glorious ambitions of the Baron’s nephew . . . but if this excursion gave him a good look at one of the monsters, it could be worth months of intensive effort on his own.
Rabban stared out through the front of the transport; his hard, squinting eyes were surrounded