Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [171]
On the no-ship he had tried to take action by doing what he thought was necessary and right, but he had only caused more tragedy, more pain. He had killed an unborn Duke Leto rather than another Piter de Vries. Yueh knew he had been manipulated by the Rabbi/Face Dancer, but he could not accept that as an excuse for his actions.
Chani sat on the floor at Paul’s side, calling his name in an unfamiliar husky voice. Yueh sensed that something about her had changed; her eyes had a wild steeliness much different from the gaze of the sixteen-year-old girl he knew.
He realized with a start that the horror of holding Paul’s bloody, dying body in her arms must have pushed her over the edge. Chani had her original memories back—just in time to experience the full magnitude of her imminent loss. Even Yueh reeled from the cruelty of it.
The Baron made despairing sounds of his own, at first confused, then angry, and now desperate. “Paolo boy, answer me!” He crouched by the glassy-eyed young man, raging. He raised a hand as if to strike the warped copy of Paul Atreides, but Paolo didn’t flinch.
From one side the independent robot Erasmus watched the whole scenario with intent curiosity, his optic threads glistening. “Apparently, neither of the Paul Atreides gholas is the Kwisatz Haderach we expected. So much for the accuracy of our predictions.”
The moment he saw the Baron’s growing confusion, Yueh knew that only one thing remained for him to do. Struggling to regain his composure, he rose from the side of the dying Paul and made his way over to the Baron and Paolo. “I am a Suk doctor.” His sleeves and trousers were drenched in Paul’s blood. “Perhaps I can help.”
“Eh? You?” The Baron sneered at him.
Jessica glared after the doctor, and the restored Chani looked as if she wanted to flog Yueh for leaving Paul’s side. But he concentrated only on the Baron. “Do you want me to help, or not?”
The Baron moved out of the way. “Hurry, then, damn you!”
Going through the motions, Yueh bent and passed his hands over Paolo’s face, felt the cold clamminess of the skin and the barely discernible pulse. Young Paolo sat frozen and transfixed, staring into a coma of infinite awareness and paralyzing boredom.
The Baron leaned close. “Make him snap out of it. What is the matter with him? Answer me!”
Grabbing the Emperor’s dagger from Paolo’s waistband, Yueh spun in a single fluid movement. The Baron staggered back, but Yueh was quicker. He thrust the sharp tip at an angle under the hateful man’s chin and rammed it all the way to the back of his skull. “This is my answer!”
The answer for being coerced into betraying House Atreides, for all the schemes, the pain, the resultant guilt, and most of all for what the Harkonnens had done to Wanna.
The Baron’s eyes opened wide in shock. He flailed his hands and tried to speak, but could only gurgle helplessly as a crimson geyser spouted from his neck.
Spattered in blood, Yueh jerked the Emperor’s dagger back out. He considered plunging it into Paolo’s midsection, just to be certain he killed both of them. But he couldn’t do that. Though the boy had gone wrong, this was still Paul Atreides.
The Baron collapsed onto the hard floor. All the while, the Paolo ghola continued to stare upward without blinking.
Dr. Wellington Yueh allowed himself a relieved smile. At long last he had accomplished something positive and true. Finally, he had done something right. For a long moment he held the dagger, covered with the Baron’s blood as well as Paul’s. A potent impulse prompted him to turn the point toward himself. Yueh closed his eyes, clutched the handle of the knife, and took another deep breath.
A firm hand clasped his wrists, staying his suicide thrust. He opened his tear-filled eyes to see Jessica standing beside him. “No, Wellington. You don’t need to redeem yourself like that. Help me save Paul instead.”
“There is nothing I can do for him!”
“Don’t underestimate yourself.” Her facial muscles tightened. “Or Paul.”
No education, training, or prescience