Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [71]
“What will happen when my father hears about it?” Shaddam asked. “He won’t like the idea.”
Old Elrood never could think for himself, and Fenring’s chaumurky had already begun to fossilize his brain. The Emperor had always been a pathetic pawn, shifted around by political forces. Perhaps the senile vulture had made a deal with House Harkonnen to keep them in control of the spice production. It wouldn’t surprise Shaddam if the young and powerful Baron had old Elrood wrapped around his little finger. House Harkonnen was fabulously wealthy, and their means of influence were legion.
It would be good to bring them to their knees.
Fenring put his hands on his hips. “I can make all of this happen, Shaddam. I have contacts. I can bring a Bene Tleilax representative here without anybody knowing. He can state our case before the Imperial Court—and then if your father turns him down, we might be able to find out who’s controlling the throne . . . the trail would be fresh. Hmmm-ahh, shall I set it up?”
The Crown Prince glanced back at the teaching machine that obliviously continued to instruct a nonexistent pupil. “Yes, yes, of course,” he said impatiently, now that he had come to a decision. “Let’s not waste more time. And stop making that noise.”
“It’ll take a while for me to get all the pieces in place, but the investment will be worth it.”
From the next room came a high-pitched moan; then a thin squeal of ecstasy built higher and higher until it seemed that the walls themselves must crumble.
“Our tutor must have learned how to pleasure his little pet,” Shaddam said with a scowl. “Or perhaps she’s just faking.”
Fenring laughed and shook his head. “That wasn’t her, my friend. That was his voice.”
“I wish I knew what they were doing in there,” Shaddam said.
“Don’t worry. It’s all being recorded for your later enjoyment. If our beloved tutor cooperates with us and causes no trouble, we’ll simply watch it for amusement. If, however, he proves difficult, we’ll wait until after your father’s been given this concubine for his own private toy—then we’ll show Emperor Elrood a glimpse of those images.”
“And we’ll have what we want anyway,” Shaddam said.
“Exactly, my Prince.”
The working Planetologist has access to many resources, data, and projections. However, his most important tools are human beings. Only by cultivating ecological literacy among the people themselves can he save an entire planet.
—PARDOT KYNES,
The Case for Bela Tegeuse
As he gathered notes for his next report to the Emperor, Pardot Kynes encountered increasing evidence of subtle ecological manipulations. He suspected the Fremen. Who else could be responsible out there in the wastelands of Arrakis?
It became clear to him that the desert people must be present in far greater numbers than the Harkonnen stewards imagined—and that the Fremen had a dream of their own . . . but the Planetologist in him wondered if they had developed an actual plan to accomplish it.
While delving into the geological and ecological enigmas of this desert world, Kynes came to believe that he had the power at his fingertips to breathe life into these sun-blistered sands. Arrakis was not merely the dead lump it appeared to be on the surface; instead, it was a seed capable of magnificent growth . . . provided the environment received the proper care.
The Harkonnens certainly wouldn’t expend the effort. Though they had been planetary governors here for decades, the Baron and his capricious crew behaved as if they were unruly houseguests with no long-term investment in Arrakis. As Planetologist, he could see the obvious signs. The Harkonnens were plundering the world, taking as much melange as they could as quickly as possible, with no thought to the future.
Political machinations and the tides of power could quickly