Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [55]
Leto nodded and responded to each introduction, trying to keep his eyes from the Vernius daughter. Hurriedly going through the motions his mother had drilled into him, Leto snapped open the seal on one of his suitcases and removed a heavy jeweled box, one of the Atreides family treasures. Holding it, he stood erect. “For you, Lord Vernius. This contains unique items from our planet. I also have a gift for Lady Vernius.”
“Excellent, excellent!” Then, as if impatient with overblown ceremony, Dominic accepted the gift and motioned for a servant to come and take it. “I’ll enjoy its contents this evening, when there is more time.” He rubbed his broad hands together. This man seemed to belong more in a smoky blacksmith’s shop or on a battlefield than in a fancy palace. “So, did you have a good trip to Ix, Leto?”
“Uneventful, sir.”
“Ah, the best kind of trip.” Dominic laughed easily.
Leto smiled, not certain how best to make a good impression on this man. He cleared his throat, embarrassed to confess his concerns and worries. “Yes, sir, except I thought I was abandoned when the Guild left me on your planet and I saw only wilderness.”
“Ah! I asked your father not to mention that to you—our little prank. I did the same to him on his first visit here. You must have imagined yourself good and lost.” Dominic beamed with pleasure. “You look rested enough, young man. At your age, space lag isn’t much of a factor. You left Caladan, what, two days ago?”
“Less than that, sir.”
“Amazing how quickly Heighliners can span great distances. Positively incredible. And we’re making improvements in Heighliner design, enabling each ship to carry a larger payload.” His booming voice made the accomplishments seem even more grandiose. “Our second construction is to be completed later today, another triumph for us. We’ll take you through all the modifications we’ve made, so you can learn them as part of your apprenticeship here.”
Leto smiled, but already his head felt as if it might explode. He didn’t know how much more new input he could absorb. By the time the year was up, he would be a different person entirely.
There are weapons you cannot hold in your hands. You can only hold them in your mind.
—Bene Gesserit Teaching
The Bene Gesserit shuttle descended to the dark side of Giedi Prime, landing in the well-guarded Harko City spaceport just before midnight, local time.
Concerned about what the damned witches wanted from him now that he had come home from the desert hellhole of Arrakis, the Baron went to a shielded upper balcony of Harkonnen Keep to watch the lights of the arriving craft.
Around him, the monolithic blackplaz-and-steel towers shone garish lights into the smoke-smeared darkness. Walkways and roads were covered by corrugated awnings and filtered enclosures to protect pedestrians from industrial waste and acid rain. Given a little more imagination and attention to detail during its construction, Harko City could have been striking. Instead, the place looked stricken.
“I have the data for you, my Baron,” said a nasal but sharp voice behind him, as close as an assassin.
Startled, the Baron turned, flexing his well-muscled arms. He scowled. The gaunt-robed form of his personal Mentat, Piter de Vries, stood at the doorway to the balcony.
“Don’t ever sneak up on me, Piter. You slither like a worm.” The comparison brought to mind his nephew Rabban’s desert hunting expedition and its embarrassing results. “Harkonnens kill worms, you know.”
“So I’ve heard,” de Vries answered dryly. “But sometimes moving silently is the best way to acquire information.” A wry smile formed on his lips, which were stained red from the cranberry-colored sapho juice Mentats drank in order to increase their abilities. Always seeking physical pleasures,