Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [244]
“Yes, yes, I should always be prepared,” Leto said. “If I’ve learned anything from you, Thufir, it’s that.”
“First you must learn maneuvering.” Hawat guided Leto through a series of cruising curves and sharp arcs. He stayed sufficiently far from the enormous Heighliner, but close enough that he felt it constituted a genuine obstacle at this speed. Once, Leto reacted too quickly and plunged the combat pod into an uncontrolled spin, which he pulled out of by firing reaction jets to stop them without sending the craft spiraling in the opposite direction.
“Reaction and counter-reaction,” Hawat said, with approval. His now-tilted mobile crash restraint righted itself. “When you and Rhombur had your boating accident on Caladan, you were able to run aground on a reef to stop things from getting worse. Here, though, there is no safety net to catch you. If you spin out of control, you will continue to do so until the proper countermeasures are taken. You could fall and burn up in the atmosphere, or in deeper space you might hurtle into the void.”
“Uh, let’s not do any of that today,” Rhombur said. He looked over at his friend. “I’d like to try some practice shots now, Leto, if you can keep this thing flying straight for a few minutes.”
“No problem,” Leto said.
Bending to the weaponeer station between the boys, Hawat said, “I loaded skeet-drones into the hold. Rhombur, try to fire and nullify as many of them as you can. You have free range to use whatever weaponry you wish. Lasbeams, conventional explosives, or multiphase projectiles. But first, m’Lord”—Hawat squeezed Leto’s shoulder—“please take us around to the other side of the planet where we won’t have to worry about hitting the Heighliner when Rhombur’s shots go wild.”
With a chuckle, Leto did as he was instructed, cruising high above the clouds of Caladan to the nightside, where the planet lay black below them except for necklaces of city lights strung along the distant coasts. Behind them, the glare of Caladan’s sun formed a halo against the dark eclipse of the planet.
Hawat launched a dozen spinning, glittering globes that flew off on random paths. Rhombur grabbed the weapons control—a stilo bar with multicolored panels—and blasted shots in all directions, most of which missed entirely, although he did remove one drone with a spray of multiphase projectiles. They all knew the bull’s-eye was a mere accident, and Rhombur took no pride in it.
“Patience and control, Prince,” Hawat said. “You must use each shot as if it were your last. Make it count. Once you’ve learned to hit things, then you can be more liberal with your expenditures.”
Leto chased after the drones as Rhombur fired with the full array of weapons available to him. When Rhombur had finally succeeded in eliminating all the targets, he and Leto switched positions and went through more practice maneuvers.
Two hours passed swiftly, and finally the Mentat instructed them to return to the Guild Heighliner so they could make themselves comfortable before the Navigator folded space and guided the ship to Kaitain.
Settled in, lounging on his plush hawk-crested chair, Leto stared out the window into the crowded cluster of ships inside the Heighliner bay. He sipped a mug of mulled wine that reminded him of Kailea and the stormy night when they had rummaged through the Old Duke’s possessions. He longed for peaceful interludes and warm companionship, though he knew it would be a long time before his life became settled again.
“The ships are so close together in here,” he said. “It makes me uneasy.” He watched two Tleilaxu transports take positions near the Atreides frigate. Beyond the transports a Harkonnen frigate hung in its Guild-assigned place.
“Nothing to worry about, my Duke,” Hawat said. “By the rules of warfare dictated by the Great Convention, no one can fire a weapon inside a Heighliner. Any House breaking that rule faces permanent forfeiture of its access to Guild ships. No one would