Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [86]
The sietch leader made quick gestures and barked commands, ordering a small but comfortable room to be prepared for the tall and curious Planetologist, who would be their prisoner as well as their guest.
And Heinar thought as he strode away, Any man who would speak words of hope to the Fremen after our many generations of suffering and wandering . . . is either confused, or a very brave man indeed.
My Father had only one real friend, I think. That was Count Hasimir Fenring, the genetic-eunuch and one of the deadliest fighters in the Imperium.
—From “In My Father’s House”
by the Princess Irulan
Even from the highest, darkened chamber of the Imperial observatory, the pastel glow of the opulence-choked capital drowned out the stars over Kaitain. Built centuries earlier by the enlightened Padishah Emperor Hassik Corrino III, the observatory had been used little by his recent heirs . . . at least not for its intended purpose of studying the mysteries of the universe.
Crown Prince Shaddam paced across the cold, burnished-metal floor as Fenring fiddled with the controls of a high-powered starscope. The genetic-eunuch hummed to himself, making unpleasant, insipid sounds.
“Would you please stop those noises?” Shaddam said. “Just focus the damned lenses.”
Fenring continued to hum, only fractionally quieter now. “The oils must be in precise balance, hm-m-m-m-ah? You would rather have the starscope perfect, than fast.”
Shaddam huffed. “You didn’t ask my preference.”
“I decided for you.” He stood back from the starscope’s calibrated phased optics and bowed with an annoyingly formal gesture. “My Lord Prince, I present to you an image from orbit. See it with your own eyes.”
Shaddam squinted into the eyepiece pickups until a shape became startlingly clear, soaring silently in the distance. The image shifted between brittle resolution and murky ripples caused by atmospheric distortion.
The mammoth Heighliner was the size of an asteroid, hanging over Kaitain and waiting to be met by a flotilla of small ships from the surface. A tiny movement caught his eye, and Shaddam spotted the yellow-white flickers of engines as frigates rose from Kaitain bearing diplomats and emissaries, followed by transports carrying artifacts and cargo from the Imperial capital world. The frigates themselves were immense, flanked by cadres of smaller ships—but the curve of the Heighliner’s hull dwarfed everything.
At the same time, other ships departed from the Heighliner hold and descended toward the capital city. “Delegation parties,” Shaddam said. “They’ve brought tributes to my father.”
“Taxes, actually—not tributes,” Fenring pointed out. “Same thing, in an old-fashioned sense, of course. Elrood is still their Emperor, um-m-m-ah?”
The Crown Prince scowled at him. “But for how much longer? Is your damned chaumurky going to take decades?” Shaddam fought to keep his voice low, although subsonic white-noise generators supposedly distorted their speech to foil any listening devices. “Couldn’t you find a different poison? A faster one? This waiting is maddening! How much time has passed anyway? It seems like a year since I’ve slept well.”
“You mean we should have been more overt about the murder? Not advisable.” Fenring took his station back at the starscope, adjusting the automated trackers to follow the Heighliner along its orbit. “Be patient, my Lord Prince. Until I suggested this plan, you were content to wait for decades. What does a year or two matter compared with the length of your eventual reign, hm-m-m-m?”
Shaddam nudged Fenring away from the eyepieces so he wouldn’t have to look at his fellow conspirator. “Now that we’ve finally set the wheels in motion, I’m impatient for my father to die. Don’t give me time to brood about it and regret my decision. I’ll suffocate until I can ascend the Golden Lion Throne. I was destined to lead, Hasimir, but some have been whispering that I’ll never get the opportunity. It makes me afraid to marry and father any children.”
If he expected Fenring