“Then why are we here?” demanded the young woman.
“First, tell me your names,” Draigo said.
“A name is a private thing, not given lightly,” she said. “Have you earned it?”
Draigo smiled. “I offered you water. Is it so much to ask for your names in return?”
The woman smiled stiffly and said, “I am Lillis. The others can give you their names if they like. I am not afraid.”
Draigo chuckled again. “At least one is without fear.”
“I am Taref,” said the one with the pointed chin, who seemed to be the leader. The other four, with varying degrees of reluctance, introduced themselves as Shurko (the gruff one), Bentur, Chumel, and Waddoch.
Draigo paced the room. He had been out in the desert aboard the spice factories himself; twice he had even watched huge worms destroy harvesting equipment that could not be whisked away in time. He tended to agree with his Mentats’ assessment that no obvious defenses existed against such leviathans. He had even heard through reliable sources that the Freemen knew how to ride sandworms across great distances. Draigo wasn’t sure he believed that incredible story, but there were so many reports.…
“Your people have been sabotaging our equipment. I doubt you do it because you hate the offworlders who harvest spice. Combined Mercantiles provides necessary materials here in Arrakis City, if you choose to purchase them, but otherwise we leave tribes alone out in your desert. I think young people like yourselves vandalize our equipment because you are bored and restless. It is entertainment and a challenge. You wish to make a mark.”
Draigo watched their expressions. These young Freemen were guarded, but not well practiced in concealing their emotions. He saw a hunger in their brown and leathery faces, their dark, intensely blue eyes.
“Let me offer you an opportunity, a way to channel your abilities. You know the desert … and you know that the desert is not everything in the universe.” He gestured toward the projection wall. “Wouldn’t you like to go somewhere different, perhaps to a planet with so much water you could immerse yourself in it, or look up in the sky and see droplets falling through the air, like sand whipped up by a storm?” He listened to their muttering, nodded again at the oceanscape. “Caladan isn’t even a special world. No one else in the Imperium finds it remarkable at all.”
“How can that be?” Lillis couldn’t take her eyes from images of the stormy sea. “So much water in one place!”
Draigo laughed. “It’s called an ocean. Most worlds have them, at least the ones on which people live. Wouldn’t you like to see that planet firsthand, and others like it? I can take you from this desert, show you there’s much more than the dunes of Arrakis.”
“I have misgivings about this,” said Shurko. “My family and the desert have always been good enough for me.”
Taref snorted. “I have heard you say otherwise.”
Shurko looked cowed. “I was just agreeing with you when I said it. But that does not mean I meant to abandon the desert entirely.”
“If you are uneasy about it, then you’re not the sort of person I’m searching for,” Draigo said. “And if you go with us, we can bring you back in a year if you like, a much wiser and more experienced person.”
“I want to see the ocean,” Taref said, as if daring the others to disagree with him. He had the mannerisms of a natural leader, but his skill-set and his confidence were not yet well honed. “And you all have said as much to me when we were out in camp.”
His remaining companions looked at one another. They had been waiting for Taref’s lead, and they all agreed to accept the offer, although with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Shurko wavered and finally said, “Then I will go along as well.”
Draigo hardened his voice. “I’m not interested in volunteers who change their minds so easily. What we ask will be difficult, but exhilarating. A chance that no other Freeman has been given. Do you want to be the first … or do you want to be nothing?”
Now, however, it was a matter of pride for Shurko. “I give you my word. I will go with my friends. We will stay together.”
Lillis expressed caution. “What is it you want from us in return?”
Draigo smiled. “Do what you’ve already proved you can do so well — sabotage. We’ll train you. On Arrakis you may understand how spice-harvesting machinery works, but spaceships with Holtzman engines are vastly more complicated. A person requires decades of education and innate intelligence to understand how a foldspace engine functions.” He paused to look at the desert people, not bothering to conceal a little disdain. “Fortunately, it takes far less training to make such an engine not function.”
Waddoch was surprised. “Sabotage? Why would you want us to ruin one of your own spaceships?”
“I want you to sabotage the spaceships of a rival company: EsconTran.”
The name obviously meant nothing to the Freemen. His two Mentat trainees were alert and attentive. Draigo tried a different explanation. “Do you not have tribes? Rivalries?”
“Of course,” said Taref. “All of us do. I am the son of a Naib.”
“The third son of a Naib,” Lillis said.
“Because of my two older brothers, I will never rule the tribe.”
“Our company has rivalries with other shipping companies. We wish to harm them.” Now the desert people understood the situation.
Taref lowered his voice, which was rich with wonder and awe. “Even if I will never be Naib, I will be the only one of my family to behold a fortune in water such as that.” He looked to the window wall. “I will be the only one to see what is out there.”
Draigo nodded. “First, let me take you and your companions to Kolhar. We will instruct you there, create convincing new identities for each of you. Because you come from Arrakis, you won’t be in any Imperial security records. Your names and identities will raise no concerns, but we need to give you eye films to cover your blue eyes, or they will draw too much attention. Ostensibly, you’ll be simple workers, proficient in basic engine maintenance, because we will give you that expertise. And then you’ll secretly make certain adjustments to critical parts and systems. EsconTran already has a dismal safety record, and with your help we can make it far worse.”
Taref glanced at his companions, then back at the faux-ocean window. When he finally turned to face Draigo, the Mentat recognized the sparkling hunger there, a longing to see new vistas and to break free from the dreary desert. “If you take us away from here and show us new worlds, Draigo Roget, then wrecking a few spaceships for you is a small price for us to pay.”
Chapter 17 (From a certain perspective, history)
From a certain perspective, history — in fact all of existence — can be viewed as a game with both winners and losers.
— GILBERTUS ALBANS, internal memo of the Mentat School
It was a spectacle in the Imperial Court, and Gilbertus played his role well, because Manford Torondo was watching him. Buried behind layers of impenetrable mental walls, he resented being treated as a performing animal for the Butlerians.
Manford considered Gilbertus neither an equal nor an ally, but rather a tool, a weapon — a means for the Butlerian leader to make his point. Other than perhaps his loyal Swordmaster, Manford viewed every human the same way, from the lowliest fanatical follower all the way up to Emperor Salvador Corrino. He showed disdain for anyone not as determined as he was … and no one was as determined as he was.
Manford had made it clear that he counted on his trained Mentat to prove that the thinking machine was inferior. If Gilbertus failed to win the assigned contest, the Butlerians would take out their disappointment on the Mentat School.