Dune: The Duke of Caladan

by Brian Herbert

  Halleck slung the baliset over his shoulder. “I can put together a dozen scouting teams, my Lord. We’ll turn them loose in different rugged areas to look for signs of fern-growing operations.”

  Leto thought of the time he needed with his son. “Not dozens of teams, Gurney, at least not yet. That would not serve my purpose as a father.” He rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. It felt good. “Just the four of us.”

  “I would enjoy that very much,” Paul said.

  Leto intercepted Halleck’s objections before he could speak them. “Obviously, we will establish tracker signals and backup support teams, and we’ll have our weapons, and shields. We’ve done this before, Gurney, and never had a problem.”

  “Times are different now, my Lord. I do not understand why you enjoy these primitive outings! As a young man when I made my way across Giedi Prime in search of my sister, I spent too much time sleeping on the hard ground, staying hidden, avoiding Harkonnen patrols.” He shook his head, lost in a reverie for a moment. “One doesn’t do such things as a lark.” Then his grin made the inkvine scar dance. “Ah, but I don’t suppose there are Harkonnen patrols in northern Caladan, and a rugged campsite is better than Beast Rabban’s slave pits. I will be there at your side.”

  Leto saw his son’s open joy, which bridged some of the distance between them. A boy’s emotions were much more pliable than a hardened man’s, and Paul was quick to forgive. “When do we leave?” he said. “Have you told Mother yet?”

  “I will let her know.” Leto realized he was anxious to go himself. “We leave as soon as Dr. Yueh is ready.”

  * * *

  THOUGH WELLINGTON YUEH had been part of House Atreides for years, his quarters were small and austere. He lived in the main part of the castle so he could be available to respond whenever a member of the household needed medical attention.

  As he prepared for the expedition, the Suk doctor moved with precise gestures, not a wasted twitch of muscle. From his infirmary and adjacent laboratory, Yueh had gathered instruments, sample boxes and jars, specimen pouches, test vials. When Leto stopped in to see him, he found the doctor packing plaz tubes, lenses, fine-point calipers, thin pipettes, and a chemical analysis kit. He included scanners and logbooks, shigawire spools with reference volumes on Caladan, though the information was sparse.

  “Such a lack of data on the flora and fauna of this world is quite a failing, my Lord,” Yueh said with an undertone of disappointment. “Over the centuries, why has no dedicated naturalist explored the landmasses, overturned every leaf, and catalogued each species of plant, insect, bird, or fish? Has humanity forgotten our need to answer questions?”

  “Obviously, it wasn’t a priority for previous Dukes,” Leto said. He had read his ancient history. “The Butlerian Jihad snuffed out our drive to know all the answers. Long ago, with that unbridled curiosity, we created thinking machines that enslaved the human race. Brash overextension of science with no consideration of consequences led to the Time of Titans, the creation of the cymeks, and so many centuries of oppression.” He pursed his lips. “Maybe it is better that we don’t look everywhere or answer every question.”

  Yueh arranged his instruments, wrapping them in protective cases against exposure to the elements. He picked up a magnifier, then a lasknife for specimen cutting. “But as a result, we know almost nothing about the barra ferns. Do we not want to find answers to the ailar drug operations?”

  Leto frowned and let out a heavy sigh. “I make an exception when my own people are being harmed.”

  The doctor mused, preoccupied. “Alas, the lack of general research is not restricted to Caladan, my Lord. It is a flaw in our current mindset. We don’t even know much about the spice from Arrakis, which is one of the most important substances in the Imperium. The Spacing Guild needs it for their Navigators, and many nobles are addicted to it. Think of how many would die if their supply were suddenly withdrawn? And yet we know very little about the substance and where it comes from on Arrakis. With the Emperor’s new spice surtax, melange has grown much more expensive, causing hardships.”

  “That makes me even more glad I do not use the stuff.” He thought of Lord Atikk’s son, Raolin, and his many addictions. His expression tightened. “There is clear danger in something so costly, so important, so alluring. It is a weakness.”

  Yueh continued, “One can wager that House Corrino has extensive data about melange in their secret records.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “I wonder…”

  Leto cut him off, anxious to finish preparations for their expedition. “For now, let us concern ourselves with questions closer to home. We will find the source of the ailar, and deal with it.”

  Colorful camouflage can be used to hide secrets. Look closely, not just out of the corner of your eye but at what is directly in front of you.

  —The Mentat Book of Focus and Diversion

  As they traveled north in a flyer that skimmed low over the treetops, Paul admired the pristine Caladan scenery. For this primitive expedition with his father—their first outing to the northern wilderness—the young man had reviewed filmbooks of the various landforms, trees, birds, insects, and even unusual fungi encrustations that grew taller than a human. So many things he wanted to see!

  Paul also asked Yueh countless questions, and the Suk doctor was patient with him, as always, while maintaining a certain coolness. Yueh had never joined their rugged retreats before, and Paul could not imagine the prim doctor in the cold, wet discomfort. “My service to House Atreides has been limited to the castle, and I served House Richese before that. This is the first time I have researched anything about Caladan wildlife.” His faint smile twitched his long mustaches. He seemed eager, yet a little nervous.

  Leto piloted the flyer himself. He called back to Paul, raising his voice over the thrum of engines. “It is important for the future Duke to see the heart of Caladan. Personal experience is far superior to filmbook learning.”

  Paul leaned forward to ask, “And did you see it yourself when you were my age?”

  “Alas, no. The Old Duke was not a man to explore the countryside, though he wasn’t afraid to get dirty or sweaty. I missed many opportunities to get to know him. I hope to make that up to us, Paul.”

  Sitting in the back of the unmarked Atreides aircraft, Gurney lounged against the bulkhead, strumming his baliset. He seemed uninterested in the scenery, willing to stay at the Duke’s side, wherever they went.

  Before flying into the deep wilderness, Leto announced they would detour for an unexpected visit to the moonfish pools. In investigating Wellan’s death, Thufir Hawat had tracked the minister’s activities, which confirmed the Duke’s suspicion that he was connected with the black-market ailar operations. The man had visited a particular fishery too often.

  “One installation should not need more inspection visits than any other, and yet Wellan kept going there. I suspect there is something more to it.” Leto’s expression was stern. “What if the fishery has some connection with the drug smuggling? That’s why I want to have a look with my own eyes.”

  Gurney’s fingers jangled on the baliset and stopped the flywheel. He snorted. “We will find out.”

  “I want to see the fishery village and the spawning pools for their own sake,” Paul said. “Moonfish are interesting creatures.”

  “You eat enough of them, lad,” Gurney teased.

  “It is good to know where one’s food comes from,” Yueh said.

  The flyer took them north along the sparsely populated coast and then inland into marshy territory, where tributary rivers drained into shallow inlets. Artificial rectangular ponds were connected by canals. Paul could see the demarcation of spawning pools, holding ponds, and transport troughs bridged by low metal walkways.

  As the sun lowered in the late afternoon, Leto circled the flyer, then came in for a landing on a raised metal grid. The Duke did not announce their arrival until his aircraft was right on top of the fishery.

  The settlem
ent was a factory complex but with a pastoral character. The processing buildings were lines of boxy structures for cleaning, cutting, and packaging the fish. Homes built from planks of raw wood stood on stilts, balanced above the mud flats. Clusters of glowglobes drifted like fireflies only a meter above the spawning pools, shining a warm, constant light beneath the cloudy sky.

  With expert maneuvering, Leto settled the flyer on the crosshatched metal platform. Fishery workers looked up as they waded in the muck below or stood in shallow canals and crosswise ditches. Wearing waterproof gear, thick gloves, and bandannas in the humid air, they bent down and reached into the water.

  One worker, apparently the crew boss, hurried to the landing platform to meet the unexpected visitors. Leto shut down the engines and stepped outside in casual dress, wearing an old fishing cap. His long, dark hair hung down around the edges of the hat. Paul, Gurney, and Dr. Yueh joined him.

  The crew boss clambered up rungs to the upraised platform and stomped his sturdy boots on the metal grid to get rid of the mud. His pants were wet and dirty, his sleeves rolled up. Several days’ growth of whiskers covered his cheeks.

  The man regarded the flyer and the strangers. “Are you … are you our Duke? Duke Leto Atreides?” He seemed cautious, afraid to believe the idea. He touched an earpiece. “I was working, but heard the transmission just before you landed.”

  Leto said, “Yes, I am the Duke. We are on an expedition to the north, and this is our stopping point. My son wants to see the moonfish operations.” He hardened his voice. “As do I.”

  The boss, who introduced himself as Hylie, seemed disconcerted. “I wish we could have prepared, my Lord. Surely Minister Wellan delivers his reports to you? Everything is in order, sir.”

  Leto remained unmoved. “I did not suggest otherwise. Yet.”

  Looking at the crew boss, Paul could see the man was unaware of Wellan’s death.

  “Aye, moonfish is a substantial part of Caladan exports,” Gurney said. “It is important for a Duke to understand where he makes his money.”

  Hylie brightened at that, but Paul detected unusual mannerisms—anxiety, maybe. It might have been just discomfort at being so close to his Duke, but Paul didn’t think so. Jessica had taught him many subtleties of observation.

  “I like to see my people as they go about their regular duties rather than in a prepared reception,” the Duke said. “It helps me to understand them.”

  “We will gladly give you a tour of our operations, but the day’s work shift is nearly over.” Hylie fidgeted. “It is a hard life, and the crews are weary by the end of the afternoon.”

  Paul said, “I understand that the moonfish thrum at night. Will we be able to hear them?”

  Leto gave him an indulgent nod. “Yes.”

  “Then you will need lodgings, Sire?” Hylie glanced over at the rugged shacks on stilts in the mud. “We don’t have much, but we can find guest quarters for you. Minister Wellan never stays.”

  “We’ll see,” Leto said. “Maybe we will.”

  Paul glanced back and forth between his father and the crew boss, and knew Leto wanted to find out more about the illicit ailar operations. Were the fisheries somehow connected to the gathering or distribution of the wild ferns? Minister Wellan had certainly been involved here at this particular fishery. Hylie would require watching.

  The crew boss stomped to the edge of the landing platform and dithered there. He turned and said apologetically, “We are not at our best right now, Sire. One of our workers was found dead in her dwelling last night. A terrible tragedy! She was young, but we’ve lost several already this year.” Hylie scratched his stubble. “Perhaps you could dispatch more workers from Cala City, my Lord? Expand our labor force? We need help up here. Minister Wellan keeps promising some assistance.”

  Before Leto could answer, Yueh interrupted, “How did she die?”

  Hylie shrugged. “She was dead when we looked in on her this morning. It is the way of life.”

  “Death is indeed a part of life,” Gurney said, “but not all deaths are the same.”

  “We don’t have the facilities to perform medical analysis or autopsies,” Hylie said. “The question is beyond me.”

  “I would like to see the body,” said Yueh. He glanced up at Leto, who nodded.

  Now the crew boss looked alarmed. “That would … not be possible. We celebrated the return service today, the funeral. Shedai’s body was…” He shrugged again, more jerkily this time. “It is no longer available.”

  “Your people believe in cremation?” Leto looked dubiously around the marshy area.

  “Her body was not consigned to fire but to the water, Sire.” Hylie nodded toward the canals and troughs. “There are moonfish. She went to them. That is what we always—”

  Paul understood. “You placed her body in the water so the fish could feed on her.”

  Gurney lowered his voice, sounding suspicious. “A very good way to dispose of a corpse if the evidence needs to be gone.”

  The crew boss was confused. “Evidence of what?”

  Paul could sense the man’s anxiety growing, more than just discomfort at discussing the body of a fallen worker. The young man said quietly to Leto, “He is hiding something, Father. I can tell.”

  “As can I,” Leto said. “We will take that tour of your operations now, Hylie. I want to see this body, whatever remains of it.”

  Down in the shallow holding ponds, wading through the muck, the workers used nets to catch moonfish fingerlings and move them into growth pools. Other suited workers stood thigh-deep in wide canals, counting and marking larger fish that bumped and jostled one another until workers flung them out into harvesting bins, where the fish flopped and struggled.

  Hylie stammered as he tried to give them the tour. “At night, we activate sonic membranes. The resonance frequency calms the fish, helps them to breed. We’ve greatly increased output in the past five years, as I’m sure you know, my Lord.”

  “I do,” Leto said. “But I was not aware that people were dying.”

  The fishery workers paused to stare at them. As the sun moved toward twilight, the glowglobes drifted along like ghosts over the water. Hylie led the visitors over raised metal walkways. The crew chief pointed down into the murky water, more a slurry of mud than an actual canal. Contented moonfish swam there, crowded together. “Shedai is … she is here in this trench, my Lord. We placed her there this morning, and the fish have been busy for hours. She will not be a pleasant sight to see.”

  “Death rarely is,” Yueh said. “But there may be enough left for analysis. I only need a tissue sample.”

  Leto stood on the raised metal walkway with Paul beside him, both of them looking down into the rich-smelling water. Gurney barked orders, and Hylie called his workers closer. A group of suited men and women waded back into the canal, looking up to the walkway, uneasy with the instructions.

  “Do as he says. Find Shedai down there,” said the crew chief. “These men want to see her body.”

  “She’s dead,” said one of the workers. “Why would they want to see her?”

  Another man sneered up at the visitors, said nothing.

  Hylie reddened. “Follow my orders! Duke Leto is an important man.”

  “But why do they want to see Shedai? What did she do?”

  “Do as you’re told or I’ll reduce your wages,” Hylie said.

  That proved to be an adequate threat. The workers stirred the shallow water, groping with gloved hands, moving along through the slurry until they found the corpse. “Here she is!” They pulled up the dripping body and flopped it onto the metal grid so that the water and mud dribbled through.

  Paul was fascinated, though the corpse’s expression was horrific. Shedai’s eyes were gone, her nose and ears nibbled away, her skin bloated.

  Yueh picked up the woman’s limp hands, rubbed at her fingernails, and looked at the cuticles. He bent close to study her face, undeterred by the grotesqueness. “If the eyes w
ere intact, I could inspect the scleras for hemorrhages.” He glanced up at Leto. “I know what you suspect, my Lord. I do have the chemical analysis kit aboard the flyer. It will not take long to detect traces of ailar, if that is what killed her.”

  Paul had already put the clues together, but Yueh’s blatant statement alarmed Gurney. The troubadour warrior whispered to Leto, “Shall we call in reinforcements, my Lord?” He looked around, as if expecting an attack. “We can have Atreides forces here in a couple of hours.”

  Leto shook his head. “This is just an expedition, and we hope to discover the answers to our questions. Hylie here can help us.” The Duke’s politeness held an undertone of razors. “If necessary, I can call in Thufir Hawat and a security team from Cala City.”

  Yueh extracted a tissue sample from the corpse while the uneasy crew boss looked on in fascination and disgust. Other workers waded in from side canals.

  Throughout the intense activity, dusk faded into a curtain of twilight. The tall hills around the narrow cove made the shadows lengthen farther. Hylie grew more agitated as Yueh worked. “My Lord, let us take you to quarters for the night, where you can be comfortable. We will prepare a meal. There are obligations that—”

  “I am quite content here, out in the open,” Leto said. “We stay until we have answers.”

  “Yes, my Lord.” Hylie stood without moving, yet appeared to be squirming.

  * * *

  YUEH’S TESTS QUICKLY revealed that the dead woman had succumbed to the toxic substance in the ferns. “Her muscles are permeated with ailar,” he said. “She must have used the drug for a substantial time, but if she ingested the new strain without knowing, it would have been far too much even for one who had built up a tolerance.”