Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [213]
The real family heads could not be bothered to attend every such meeting, and as a number of trivial matters were heard—items that dragged on for far longer than was necessary—Leto soon understood why. Little business was accomplished despite all the talking and arguing and niggling over fine points of protocol or Imperial law.
Newly installed in his title, though, Leto would make this his formal reception. When the scrolling agenda signaled his turn to speak at long last, the young man crossed the dizzying expanse of polished floor in the cavernous chamber, unaccompanied by the warrior Mentat or any other assistant, and climbed to a central lectern. Trying not to look like a mere teenager, he remembered his father’s powerful presence and recalled the cheers as they stood in the arena, holding a bull’s-head high.
Gazing across the sea of bored, dignified representatives, Leto took a deep breath. Amplifiers would snatch his words and transmit them so that all listeners could hear; shiga-wire recordings were made for documentation purposes. This would be a vital speech for him—most of these people had no inkling of his personality, and few even knew his name. Realizing that they would form their impression of him from the words he said that day, Leto felt the weight on his shoulders grow even heavier.
He waited to be certain he had everyone’s attention, though so late in the Council meeting he doubted anyone had the mental energy required to concentrate on anything new.
“Many of you were friends and allies of my father, Paulus Atreides,” he began, then dropped his bombshell, “who was recently murdered through a heinous and cowardly act of assassination.” He glanced pointedly over at the seats held by representatives of House Harkonnen. He didn’t know the names or titles of the two men there representing the enemy household.
His implication was clear enough, though he made no specific accusation, nor did he have any specific proof. Stablemaster Yresk, who had not survived his interrogation as Leto had requested, had confirmed Helena’s complicity, but could give no further details about co-conspirators. So the new Duke Atreides simply used his statement to gain the attention of the bored people in the chamber—and now he certainly had it.
The Harkonnens whispered among themselves, casting nervous and angry looks at the podium. Leto ignored them and turned back to the central cluster of representatives.
Directly in front of him in the seat of House Mutelli he recognized old Count Flambert, an utterly ancient gentleman whose memory was said to have failed him many years before. With his long-term recollection gone, he kept at his side a squat former Mentat candidate with blond hair, who served as a portable memory for the Count. The failed Mentat’s sole duty was to remind the ancient Flambert of things, providing every bit of data the nobleman might require. Though he had never completed his training as a human computer, the failed Mentat served the senile Count’s needs well enough.
Leto’s voice carried across the assemblage, as clear and concise as the pealing of buoy bells on a cool Caladan morning: “A sign over the Emperor’s own door declares that ‘Law is the ultimate science.’ Thus, I stand here not on my own behalf, but on behalf of a former Great House, one that can no longer come here to speak. House Vernius was a close ally of my family.”
Several people on nearby benches groaned. A few others fidgeted impatiently. They had already heard too much about Vernius.
Boldly, the young Atreides continued: “Earl Dominic Vernius and his family were forced to declare themselves renegade after the illegal takeover of Ix by the Bene Tleilax—whom all here know to be a depraved and disgusting breed, and unworthy of representation before this august body. While House Vernius cried out for help and support against this outrageous invasion,