Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [289]
“What do you mean?” Shaddam slid back from the game station and impatiently motioned for Fenring to take his turn.
“Think about Duke Leto, how unpredictable he is. Maybe he’s setting up secret military alliances for an assault on Kaitain. His tremendous acclaim translates into bargaining power for him, and he’s obviously ambitious. Leaders of Great Houses are eager to talk with him now. You, on the other hand, have no such popular basis of support.”
“I have my Sardaukar.” But creases of doubt crept into the Emperor’s face.
“Watch your legions to make certain they aren’t infiltrated. I’m going to be away on Arrakis, and I worry about such things. I know you said you could handle it all yourself, and I believe you. I’m just giving you my best advice—as I always have, Sire.”
“I appreciate that, Hasimir. But I cannot believe my cousin Leto created the Heighliner crisis in order to achieve this particular end. It was too clumsy, too risky. He couldn’t have known I’d testify for him.”
“He knew you’d do something, once you learned he had secret information.”
Shaddam shook his head. “No. The potential for failure was enormous. He nearly lost his family’s entire holdings.”
Fenring held out a long finger. “But consider the potential glory he reaped, hm-m-m-m? For proof, just look at what has happened to him in the meantime. I doubt he could have planned it this way, but Leto’s a hero now. His people love him, all the nobles admire him—and the Tleilaxu have been made to look like whining fools. I’d suggest, Sire—since you insist on doing this alone—that you keep a careful eye on the ambitions of House Atreides.”
“Thank you for your advice, Hasimir,” Shaddam said, turning back to study the game console. “Oh, by the way, did I mention that I’m . . . promoting you?”
Fenring gave a quiet snort. “I wouldn’t exactly call the Arrakis assignment a promotion. ‘Imperial Observer’ doesn’t sound terribly exalted, does it?”
Shaddam smiled and raised his chin in a very Imperial gesture. He had intended to do this all along. “Ah, yes . . . but how does Count Fenring sound?”
Fenring was taken aback. “You’re . . . making me a Count?”
Shaddam nodded. “Count Hasimir Fenring, Imperial Observer assigned to Arrakis. Your family fortunes are improving, my friend. Eventually, we’ll see about establishing you in the Landsraad.”
“With a CHOAM directorship, as well?”
Shaddam laughed. “All in good time, Hasimir.”
“That makes Margot a Countess, I presume?” His large eyes glittered as Shaddam nodded to him. He tried to hold his pleasure inside, but the Emperor could see it clearly on his face.
“And now I’ll tell you why this is such a critically important assignment, for you and for the Imperium. Do you remember a man named Pardot Kynes—the Planetologist my father stationed there several years ago?”
“Of course.”
“Well, he hasn’t been much help lately. A few erratic reports, incomplete and seemingly censored. One of my spies even sent word that Kynes has grown too close to the Fremen, that he may have crossed the line and become one of them. Gone native.”
Fenring’s eyebrows arched. “An Imperial servant mixing with that nasty, primitive brood?”
“I hope not, but I’d like you to uncover the truth. In essence, I’m making you my Imperial Spice Czar, secretly overseeing the melange operations on Arrakis as well as the progress of our synthetic-spice experiments on Xuttah. You’ll shuttle back and forth between those planets and the Imperial Palace. You will transmit only coded messages, and only to me.”
As the magnitude of the task and its repercussions sank in, Fenring felt a renewed fervor that burned away his discontent. Yes, he did see the possibilities now. He couldn’t wait to tell Margot—with her Bene Gesserit mind, she would no doubt see additional advantages.
“That sounds provocative, Sire. A challenge worthy of my particular talents. Um-m-m-m, I might actually enjoy it.”
Turning back to the game,