At the offer of the reward, the comm-system filled with “helpful” scavenger voices. Vor stiffened, worried that Willem had left his safety on Chusuk. He had wanted the young man to stay away while he faced the Harkonnens himself and ended the decades-long feud. Was it so terrible for Willem to have remained behind with Princess Harmona? But Vor should have known Willem would never be satisfied with a passive, comfortable role on the sidelines. He sighed.
The young man waved to him, trudging over the rubble toward the group of scavengers, and Vor realized he was glad to see him anyway. When they came together, he said, “It’s dangerous here.”
Willem’s eagerness would not be shaken, though. “That’s not much of a welcome! I came a long way to see you. You abandoned me on Chusuk.”
“To recover from your injuries — with a beautiful woman.”
Willem seemed embarrassed. “I am fully recovered. And Harmona is waiting for me, waiting for us to finish the work we have to do.”
“I left a message for you to stay away.”
“I decided to ignore it.” Willem grinned. “And if you were me, you would have done exactly the same thing. I need to be here with you — if they’re coming for you. You’re luring the Harkonnens here.”
Instinctively, Vor glanced up at the starry, red-tinged sky, but saw no sign of any approaching craft. If Willem had tracked him down this quickly, then maybe the Harkonnens would not be far behind.
The young man lowered his voice. “You’re setting a trap, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but it’s my responsibility to spring it. You have a future, and can still have a family. I made arrangements for you on Salusa Secundus, at the Imperial Court. The Emperor will personally give you a position — all you have to do is show up.” His voice took on a pleading tone. “Go live your life, a normal life. Let me take care of this.”
With a stubborn shake of his head, Willem said, “Not alone. You always spoke to me about Atreides honor. I’m not going to abandon you. I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”
Vor looked at him for a long while. This young man was, after all, an Atreides, and Vor had made him understand all the honor and tradition of that name. Willem was doing exactly what he would have done himself. How could Vor possibly send him away?
“All right, then I can use your help.”
70
The mass deaths and injuries that occurred in this place were tragic, but necessary. We must move on from here. My Imperium is now a better place.
With the death of Manford Torondo and the subjugation of Lampadas, the backbone of the Butlerian movement had been broken. Exactly as the Emperor had hoped.
As soon as the swift courier arrived at the capital planet, Roderick commissioned an EsconTran spacefolder to transport his ornate ceremonial barge and Imperial entourage, along with a strong force of peacekeeping troops that would remain behind on Lampadas. He would meet with Admiral Harte, while the last few fanatics were still reeling from their utter defeat.
Most of the surviving Butlerians were on Lampadas, but he knew there were others around the Imperium, little clusters here and there, and some planetary officials who had been sympathizers — and might still cause problems. He’d seen the intelligence reports. But any fanatics remaining would be nothing compared with what they had been under Manford Torondo. There might be a few brushfires to put out, but no more.
Roderick made the triumphant announcement from the Imperial Palace before he departed, encouraging independent traders and couriers to disseminate the news across the Imperium. The barbarian movement would now crumble, and Admiral Harte would keep the core of the surviving fanatics bottled up on Lampadas in the meantime. How long would it take for the rest of the planetary leaders to renounce their antitechnology vows and open themselves to unrestricted trade again?
All was as it should be. Manford Torondo was dead. Josef Venport was defeated. And Roderick Corrino was Emperor. He had an empire to rebuild and new interstellar business consortiums to develop.
After making his bargain with the Directeur, he had not intended for Admiral Harte to attack the unwary VenHold forces from behind. It seemed a deceitful, even dishonorable move, and Josef Venport surely believed that the Emperor had betrayed him, but Harte had been completely cut off from communication. There had been no way to stop him.
But now Roderick knew about Venport’s own added treachery, that he had kidnapped Anna. Admiral Harte had passed along the stunning threat Venport had issued just before escaping justice yet again. All the months that Roderick had worried about his sister, feared for her life, sure that she had been murdered … and Venport had known all along!
He has my sister! One last bargaining chip, one last knife that had been thrust in the Emperor’s side. That could not be tolerated.
First, he and his Imperial forces would ensure that the subdued Butlerians were under adequate control, with their homeworld locked down so that the fanatics could cause no further trouble. Then he would set about finding where Directeur Venport had gone to ground.
When his entourage arrived in the Lampadas system, Roderick went with Admiral Harte down to the war-torn surface where the survivors had just begun to pick up the pieces. In devastated Empok, they were greeted at the ravaged landing field by an Imperial color guard in spotless uniforms, carrying bright banners. It was in strong contrast to the destruction around them, with the city in ruins and buildings burned or smashed to rubble.
The Emperor and the coolly professional Harte stood watching the crisp performance of the guards, while Manford’s leftover followers looked shell-shocked. Roderick Corrino was their Emperor, and these people of Lampadas could devote their energies to giving their service to the Imperium. They no longer needed Leader Torondo.
The Admiral was impeccable in his dress uniform, wearing a chest full of colorful ribbons. Roderick intended to give him more commendations once they all returned to Salusa, but the job wasn’t finished yet. The Imperial battle group still had to mop up the remnants of Josef Venport’s fleet and find Anna — wherever they had gone.
Roderick had already sent a scout ship to the spice operations on Arrakis. Though the Directeur had visibly increased his defenses with a cordon of impressive thinking-machine warships to withstand any Imperial action, Josef Venport was not there himself — nor was Anna. The quick, clandestine survey had made it obvious that the Imperial Armed Forces couldn’t fight those intimidating battleships — not yet. And although the spice industry was valuable, the Emperor had a far more important goal.
He has my sister! The Directeur must be hiding in some other bolt-hole, and Roderick would uproot him there, once he discovered where it was.
The commander of the color guard separated from the rest of the troops and stepped in front of the Emperor, maintaining a long salute, while the two flag bearers spun their scarlet-and-gold Corrino banners. The battered Butlerian survivors looked on without enthusiasm. The air reeked of smoke, dust, and blood.
Roderick returned the salute with a brief, concise motion, as did Admiral Harte. When the color guard performance was concluded, the Admiral led him into the devastated city. Imperial soldiers helped the survivors put out the last few fires and spray down the powdery toxic residue from the poison clouds spewed by cymek walkers.