“At times, that sounds wonderful to me. I never wanted the throne either.” Roderick nodded with respect. “The Imperium shall forever be grateful to you, Vorian Atreides. Yes, if your favor is within my power, I will grant it. I lift all the restrictions my brother imposed upon you. Travel wherever you wish, live where you’d like — is that what you want?”
“Thank you, Sire. But my request is even more straightforward than that.”
Already several hundred kilometers away from Zimia, the Imperial flyer cruised over a sweeping valley. When they reached the flooded river zone and flew low, both men peered out upon the devastation. By now the surging river had receded, leaving destroyed houses, land vehicles, and boats in its wake. Dead farm animals lay strewn on the ground. From above, they could see antlike teams of rescue workers digging in the sediment, setting up temporary settlements and relief camps.
The Emperor pondered the view gravely as the craft cruised over the swath of devastation. He finally looked up at his guest. “What is it you need me to do for you?”
“Sire, I want my descendants to have the opportunities that should be their birthright. I think I have earned the right to request this. They are Atreides, with a proud and distinguished heritage. They should be treated as such, even if I would prefer to disappear myself.”
Roderick flashed a wan smile. “I want the same for my son Javicco. I hope the Corrino line keeps the throne for more than a few generations, but that will depend on how well I steer through these perilous times. So many forces are trying to tear the Imperium apart right now.” He pushed aside the rest of his meal and stared out the window as the flyer circled into the foothills, where another village had been damaged by mudslides. “What family do you have? I believe there are some on Kepler—?”
“And they are perfectly content. I have no wish to draw them into Imperial politics. But one descendant from my Caladan line — a young man named Willem — has become especially important to me. Right now he is on Chusuk recovering from injuries, but I would like to arrange a place for him on Salusa Secundus. Give him a chance, Sire. He’s intelligent and pleasant, but he has suffered recent tragedies, partly because of me, and I’d like to make it up to him. I can deposit all the funds he needs to support himself, if you can find an opportunity for him at court? A respectable spot among the new arrivals?”
Roderick seemed relieved that the request was not far more significant. He gave a quick wave. “I can’t remember the last time I had a problem so easily solved. Of course I grant your most reasonable request. The Imperium owes you much more than that, and my court could certainly use the qualities of an Atreides.”
Vor thanked him. The inspection flyer completed its circuit as they looked down at the flooded areas, the recovery crews, the temporary shelters, the large refugee towns. Roderick smiled wistfully, as if thinking of Haditha down there in the thick of the efforts.
When the craft finally headed back to Zimia, Roderick said, “I will dispatch more resources, so Haditha has everything she needs. In fact, if the Butlerians won’t help, maybe I should command some of the nobles to join the effort.”
Vor smiled. “With the Butlerians I suspect you may be inviting more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Many things are more trouble than they’re worth.” Roderick looked intently at him. “The Butlerians … Josef Venport — how would you deal with two extremes pulling my Imperium apart? If you were Emperor?”
Vor sat back, smiled thinly. “That is precisely why I never wanted to be Emperor, Sire.”
The Emperor’s shoulders fell slightly. “Manford Torondo and his followers are dangerous and destructive, yet they did save me from Venport’s siege. But now they won’t leave. Under other circumstances, I would ally myself with Venport Holdings, but that man murdered my brother and tried to overthrow my throne.” He shook his head. “Haditha wants me to negotiate with him, but how can I try to reach a resolution with someone like that? A murderer on one hand and a madman on the other.”
Vor frowned. “Negotiations are often conducted between rivals. Which solution holds the best future for the Imperium?”
“The solution that eliminates both extremes.”
As the aircraft returned to the rooftop landing zone, the Emperor reiterated his promise to make a place for Willem. “Will you be here to introduce young Willem when he arrives? It would increase his standing if a Hero of the Jihad vouched for him in front of the other nobles and courtiers.”
Vor did not look at the unobtrusive Truthsayer, but was aware that the woman was listening intently. “I’m afraid not, Sire. I doubt if I will ever see Willem again, in fact. I am about to undertake a dangerous mission, one that I must handle alone.” But Vor’s plan to lure the murderess, and perhaps her sister as well, all depended on whether Truthsayer Fielle reported to Mother Superior Valya … and he felt certain she would.
“I need to go where the Harkonnens won’t find me. I’m sure you will understand, Sire, that I cannot discuss details even with you. I must vanish.”
“You’ve earned the privilege,” Emperor Roderick said. “I wish you all the best.”
Eventually, Vor would reveal his destination, but not in the manner anyone would expect, and not until the proper time. Secretly, he had hired two operatives to plant a rumor after his departure that he was on Corrin, when he was assured of already being there. Knowing that Fielle had Sisters in the palace and in the government buildings, he had set it up so that the rumor would begin in the Imperial Court, and from that talkative throng it would spread outward, so that Fielle would be sure to hear it.
And as soon as the Emperor’s Truthsayer learned of the rumor, Valya Harkonnen would be informed soon afterward.
Vor would be ready.…
51
It is not wise to beg some people for mercy. It only makes them less likely to grant it.
In his pavilion among the encamped Butlerians in the central plaza, Manford Torondo used his muscular arms to pull himself off his sleeping pallet. The night was still dark around him. If he pressed the issue, he was sure he could have forced the Emperor to grant him opulent visitor’s quarters in the Palace, but Manford was among his people out here. He could sense their energy all around him, their wild enthusiasm, their absolute devotion to him.
And soon he would call them to action.
Even with so many thousands of his followers crowded together, Manford felt alone now that Anari Idaho was gone. Following Manford’s command, she had traveled with Lord Udorum Pondi in a Butlerian spacefolder, to inspect and quietly retrieve the secret atomics from his planet. When she came back with the unexpected treasure, Manford knew exactly what he was going to do with it.
In the meantime, though, he felt incomplete without her.
Although he could have summoned hundreds of eager helpers, Manford was capable of getting around on his own. He slid onto a custom mobile chair that his aides had placed here for him. Rolling the chair forward, he parted the pavilion curtains and looked out into the starry Salusan night. The capital city blazed and bustled even in the hours before dawn, but most of his followers were quietly asleep in the camp.
Around him Manford could see the Imperial gardens, coiffed trees and colorful flowers, statues of Jihad heroes lining the wide main path. Manford respected those champions who fought against the thinking machines. If only he could have been alive in those glorious days, when the enemies of humanity had been obvious to all.…