Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [93]
“So you’re not doing this for me at all,” Duncan said. “Not because you feel guilty about what you did and all the pain you caused people. You just want to get even with the Harkonnens.”
“Hey, kid, just take your breaks where you can get them.”
Duncan rummaged in one of the storage compartments until he found two fruit-rice bars and a sealed bubble of juice. Without asking, he tore into the packets and began stuffing himself. The bars tasted only faintly of cinnamon, a flavor-enhancer to simulate melange.
“You’re welcome,” Janess said sarcastically.
He didn’t reply, chewed loudly.
All night long the flitter soared over the lowlands toward the forbidding city of Barony. For a moment Duncan thought she intended to dump him back into prison, where he would have to go through everything all over again. He slipped his hand into his pocket, felt the handle of his dull knife. But Janess flew the unmarked craft beyond the prison complex and headed south, past a dozen cities and villages.
They had stopped for a day, hiding out during the afternoon, replenishing their supplies at a small way station. Janess provided him with a blue singlesuit, cleaned up his wound as best she could, and crudely administered medical treatment. She tended him with no special care, but merely expressed the hope that he would not draw attention to himself.
At dusk they set off again, heading far south to an independent spaceport. Duncan didn’t know the names of the places they visited, nor did he ask. No one had ever taught him geography. Whenever he bothered to venture a question, Janess invariably snapped at him or ignored him entirely.
The spaceport complex carried a flavor of rough mer-cantile personnel and the Guild rather than the cumbersome Harkonnen style. It was functional and efficient, with endurance emphasized over luxury or eye appeal. Corridors and rooms were large enough for the movement of enclosed tanks holding Guild Navigators.
Janess parked the flitter-thopter where she could easily retrieve it, then set her own hot-wired security systems before leaving the craft behind. “Follow me,” she said. With young Duncan in tow, she marched out into the bustle and chaos of the spaceport. “I’ve made some arrangements. But if you get lost here, I’m not looking for you.”
“Why shouldn’t I just run? I don’t trust you.”
“I’m going to put you on a ship that’ll take you away from Giedi Prime, far from the Harkonnens.” She looked down at him, goading. “Your choice, kid. I don’t need any more trouble from you.”
Duncan clenched his teeth and followed her without further comment.
Janess tracked down a battered cargo craft swarming with workers who loaded scuffed cases on board. Using suspensor pads, they dragged heavy pallets into the holding bay and stacked them haphazardly.
“Second mate of this ship is an old friend of mine,” Janess said. “He owes me a favor.”
Duncan did not ask what kind of people a woman like Janess Milam would consider friends . . . or what she had done to earn herself such a favor.
“I’m not going to pay a single solari for your passage, Idaho—your family has already cost my conscience enough, ruined my standing with the Harkonnen overlords, and got me nothing. But my friend Renno says you can ride in the hold, just as long as you don’t eat anything other than standard rations or cost anyone time or credits.”
Duncan watched the spaceport activities around him. He had no real conception of what life would be like on any other world. The cargo ship looked old and unimpressive—but if it provided him with passage away from Giedi Prime, then it was a golden bird from heaven.
Janess took him roughly by his arm and marched him toward the loading ramp. His sore shoulder throbbed. “They’re hauling recyclable materials and other salvage, which they’ll take to a processing station on Caladan. That’s the home of House Atreides . . . archenemies of the Harkonnens. You know about the feud between those Houses?” When Duncan shook his head, Janess laughed. “Of course not. How would a little dirt rodent