Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [247]
Hovering immediately in front of the Atreides frigate, invisible and cloaked in anonymity, Rabban targeted the nearby Tleilaxu ships. With a smile on his generous lips, he reached for the controls.
And opened fire.
Tio Holtzman was one of the most productive Ixian inventors on record. He often went on creative binges, locking himself up for months on end so that he could work without interruption. Sometimes upon emerging he required hospitalization, and there were constant concerns over his sanity and well-being. Holtzman died young—barely past thirty Standard Years—but the results of his efforts changed the galaxy forever.
—Biographical Capsules, an Imperial filmbook
When Rabban departed from the Harkonnen frigate, full of his important duty, the Baron sat in a high observation chair, looking out into the enormous Heighliner hold. The Navigator had already initiated the engines, sent the gigantic craft through foldspace. The smaller ships sat arrayed like so much cordwood, unaware of the fire that was rushing toward them. . . .
Even knowing where to look, he couldn’t see the invisible ship, of course. But the Baron glanced at his chronometer, knew the time was approaching. He stared out at the unsuspecting Atreides frigate, silent and arrogant in its assigned berth, and kept his eyes on the nearby Tleilaxu craft. Tapping his fingertips on the arm of the chair, he watched and waited.
Long minutes passed.
Planning the attack, Baron Harkonnen had wanted Rabban to use a lasgun on the doomed Tleilaxu ships—but Chobyn, the Richesian designer of the experimental craft, had left a murky warning scrawled in his notes. The new no-field had some relationship with the original Holtzman Effect that formed the foundation for shields. Every child knew that when a lasgun beam struck a shield, the resulting explosion resembled an atomic detonation.
The Baron didn’t dare take that risk, and since the Richesian inventor had already been disposed of, they couldn’t ask further questions. Perhaps he should have thought of that ahead of time.
No matter. Lasguns weren’t needed to damage the Tleilaxu vessels anyway, since ships transported in a Heighliner hold were prohibited from activating their shields. Instead, multiphase projectiles—the high-powered artillery shells recommended by the Great Convention to restrict collateral damage—would do the job. Such shells penetrated the fuselage of a target craft and destroyed the interior of the vessel in a controlled detonation, after which the phased secondary and tertiary explosions snuffed onboard fires and saved the remains of the fuselage. His nephew hadn’t understood the technical details of the attack; Rabban only knew how to aim and fire the weapons. That was all he needed to know.
Finally the Baron saw a tiny burst of yellow-and-white fire, and two deadly multiphase projectiles streaked out, as if fired from the front of the Atreides frigate. The projectiles shot like gobbets of viscous flame, then impacted. The doomed Tleilaxu transport vessels shuddered and glowed bright red inside.
Oh, how the Baron hoped other ships had been watching this!
A direct hit on one ship left it a hollow, incinerated hull in only a few seconds. By design, the other projectile hit the tail section of the second Tleilaxu ship, disabling it without killing everyone aboard. This would give the victims an excellent opportunity to fire back at the Atreides aggressors. Then things would escalate nicely.
“Good.” The Baron smiled, as if he could speak directly to the frantic Tleilaxu crew. “Now you know what to do. Follow your instincts.”
After launching the projectiles, Rabban’s no-ship darted away, passing between parked frigates that loomed high overhead.
On an emergency frequency, he heard the damaged Tleilaxu ship transmit urgent distress messages: “Peaceful Bene Tleilax transports attacked by Atreides frigate! Violation of Guild law. Assistance urgently requested!”
At that moment, the Guild Heighliner was nowhere—in