Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [267]
“I did,” Shaddam snapped. “But apparently you aren’t the only one who no longer listens to my commands. Either Ajidica ignored my instructions, or he has no power to control his own people.”
Fenring growled, happy to divert the Crown Prince’s anger. “We need to strike back in a similar manner: Let Hidar Fen Ajidica know that he must heed all orders from his Emperor, or the price will grow much higher.”
Shaddam looked at him, but his eyes were weary now and no longer as warm or open as they had once been. “You know exactly what to do, Hasimir.”
Fenring seized the chance to restore himself to the Crown Prince’s good graces. “I always do, Sire.” He scuttled away across the long reception hall.
Shaddam paced the polished floor in front of the crystalline throne, trying to calm himself and put his thoughts in order. Just as Fenring reached the archway, he called out, “This isn’t over between us, Hasimir. Things must change once I am crowned.”
“Yes, Sire. You must . . . hm-m-m-m, do as you see fit.” Bowing deeply, Fenring backed out of the audience chamber, relieved to depart with his life.
When faced with necessary actions, there are always choices. So long as the job gets done.
—COUNT HASIMIR FENRING,
Dispatches from Arrakis
The Tleilaxu pilot who had survived the Atreides attack inside the Heighliner was a material witness at the trial, and thus had been forced to remain on Kaitain. He wasn’t a prisoner, and his needs were taken care of, though no one sought out his company. The Bene Tleilax hadn’t even made his name commonly known. He wanted to be back on his ship, back at work.
However, because of the huge influx of guests arriving for Shaddam’s upcoming coronation ceremony and the Imperial wedding, accommodations were difficult to find. Shaddam’s protocol ministers had taken great pleasure in finding only an austere and unpleasant room for the man.
Much to the protocol ministers’ annoyance, the Tleilaxu pilot didn’t seem to mind. He said nothing in complaint while he waited, and sulked and stewed until he could bring the foul criminal Leto Atreides to justice. . . .
Kaitain nights were perfect, clear and full of stars and moons. Through shimmering curtains of auroras, complete darkness never fell. Even so, most of the capital city slept during certain hours.
Hasimir Fenring easily crept into the sealed room that held the Tleilaxu man. He moved stealthily, like a shadow on a suspensorlift, and made no sound, used no illumination. He was accustomed to the night; it was his friend.
Fenring had never seen a Tleilaxu asleep before—but as he stepped closer to the bed, he found the pilot already sitting up, totally awake. The gray-skinned man stared at him through the darkness as if he could see better even than Shaddam’s henchman.
“I have a fléchette pistol trained directly at your body core,” the Tleilaxu said. “Who are you? Have you come to kill me?”
“Hm-m-m-m-ah, no.” Fenring recovered quickly and used his sweetest, silkiest voice to introduce himself. “I am Hasimir Fenring, boon companion to Crown Prince Shaddam, bearing a message and a request.”
“What is it?” the pilot said.
“Crown Prince Shaddam beseeches you to reconsider the details of your testimony, hm-m-m-m? He desires peace among the Houses of the Landsraad, and does not wish for such a shadow to fall upon House Atreides, whose members have served the Padishah Emperors since the time of the Great Revolt.”
“Nonsense,” the Tleilaxu snapped. “Leto Atreides fired upon our sovereign ships, destroying one, damaging mine. Hundreds are dead. He has created the largest political firestorm in recent decades.”
“Yes, yes!” Fenring said. “And you can prevent it from escalating further, hmmm? Shaddam wishes to begin his reign with quiet and prosperity. Can you not consider the larger picture?”
“I think only of my people,” the pilot said, “and how we have been wronged by one man. Everyone knows the Atreides is guilty, and he must pay the price.