Hunters of Dune - Brian Herbert [15]
“You may address me as Mother Commander, provided you do so with respect. What is your name, Navigator?”
“I am Edrik. Many in my line have interacted with governments and individuals, dating back to the time of Emperor Muad’Dib.” He swam closer to the walls of his tank, and she could see the otherworldly eyes set in his large misshapen head.
“I am less interested in history than in your present predicament,” Murbella said, choosing to use the steel of the Honored Matres rather than the cool negotiating manner of the Bene Gesserits.
Administrator Gorus continued to bow, as if speaking to the floor at Murbella’s feet. “With the destruction of Rakis, all of its sandworms died, and thus the desert planet produces no more spice. Compounding the problem, Honored Matres slew the old Tleilaxu Masters, so the secret of creating spice from axlotl tanks has been lost.”
“Quite a quandary,” Doria muttered with a bit of a sneer.
Murbella curled her own lips downward in a frown. She remained on her feet. “You state these things as if we did not know them.”
The Navigator continued, amplifying his voice in order to drown out further words from Gorus. “In days past, melange was plentiful and we had numerous independent sources. Now, after little more than a decade, the Guild has only its own stockpiles remaining, and they are dwindling rapidly. It is becoming difficult to obtain spice even on the black market.”
Murbella crossed her arms over her chest. On either side of her, Bellonda and Doria looked supremely satisfied. “But we can provide you with new spice. If we choose to do so. If you give us good reason.”
Edrik drifted in his tank. The escort party of Guildsmen looked away.
The desert band girdling Chapterhouse was continuing to expand every year. Spice blows had occurred, and the stunted sandworms were growing larger, though they were only shadows of the monsters that once churned the dunes of Rakis. Decades ago, before the Honored Matres obliterated Dune, the Bene Gesserit order had gathered huge stockpiles of the then-plentiful spice. In contrast, the Spacing Guild—assuming the days of scarce melange were long over and the market was strong—did not make preparations for a possible shortage. Even the ancient trading conglomerate of CHOAM had been caught off guard.
Murbella stepped closer to the tank, focused on the Navigator. Gorus folded his hands and said to her, “The reason we have come is therefore obvious . . . Mother Commander.”
Murbella said, “My Sisters and I have good reason for cutting off your supplies.”
Nonplussed, Edrik waved his webbed hands in the swirling mists. “Mother Commander, what have we done to invoke your displeasure?”
She lifted her thin eyebrows in scorn. “Your Guild knew that Honored Matres bore weapons from the Scattering that were capable of destroying entire planets. And you still transported the whores against us!”
“Honored Matres had their own ships from the Scattering. Their own technologies—” Gorus began.
“But they flew blind, did not know the landscape of the Old Empire until you guided them. The Guild showed them their targets, led them to vulnerable worlds. The Guild is complicit in the eradication of billions of lives—not just on Rakis itself, but on our library world of Lampadas and countless other planets. All the worlds of the Bene Tleilax have been crushed or conquered, while our own Sisters remain enslaved on Buzzell, harvesting soostones for rebel Honored Matres who will not bow to my rule.” She laced her fingers together. “The Spacing Guild is at least partly responsible for those crimes, so you must make recompense.”
“Without spice, space travel and all galactic commerce will be hobbled!” Alarm