Dune - House Atreides

by Brian Herbert

  Leto wrestled with the conundrum himself, but if even the Mentat could not find a chain of associations, then a mere Duke wouldn't be able to follow such subtle threads. "All right, what's another possibility?"

  "Perhaps . . . Ixian sabotage. The result of an Ixian renegade who sought to strike back against the Tleilaxu. A misguided attempt to assist the exiled Dominic Vernius. It's also possible that Dominic himself was involved, though there have been no sightings of him since he went renegade."

  Leto digested this information, but the practical question nagged him. "Sabotage? By what means?"

  "Difficult to say. The gutting of the Tleilaxu ship's interior suggests a multiphase projectile. Chemical residue analysis also confirms this."

  Leto leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. "But how? Who could have fired such a projectile? Let's not forget that witnesses claim to have seen shots launched from the direction of our frigate. The Heighliner hold was empty in the vicinity. You and I were both watching. Ours was the only ship close enough."

  "The few answers I can suggest are extremely unlikely, my Duke. A small attack craft could have fired such a projectile, but it is not possible to hide such a vessel. We saw nothing. Even an individual suited up with breathing apparatus would have been noticed in the cargo hold, so that rules out shoulder-launched missiles. Besides which, no one is allowed outside the ships during foldspace transit."

  "I'm no Mentat, Thufir . . . but I smell Harkonnens in this," Leto mused as he ran his finger in circles on the slick, cold surface of the blueplaz table. He had to think, had to be strong.

  Hawat gave him a concise analysis. "When a foul deed occurs, three principal trails invariably lead to the responsible party: money, power, or revenge. This incident was a setup, designed to destroy House Atreides -- possibly linked to the scheme that killed your father."

  Leto heaved an enormous sigh. "Our family had a few quiet years under Dmitri Harkonnen and his son Abulurd, when the Harkonnens seemed to let us live in peace. Now I'm afraid the old feud has resurfaced. From what I hear, the Baron revels in it."

  The Mentat smiled grimly. "Exactly what I was considering, m'Lord. I am absolutely baffled as to how they might have accomplished such an ambush with so many other ships watching. Proving such a conjecture in Landsraad court will be even more difficult."

  A guard appeared at the force-barred cell and entered, carrying a small parcel. Without uttering a word or even looking Leto in the eyes, he placed the package on the slick table and departed.

  Hawat ran a scanner over the suspicious parcel. "Message cube," he said. Gesturing for Leto to stand back, the Mentat removed the wrapping to reveal a dark object. He found no markings, no indication of the sender, yet it seemed to be important.

  Leto held up the cube, and it glowed after recognizing his thumbprint. Words flowed across its face in synchronization with his eye movements, two sentences that spoke volumes of provocative information.

  "Crown Prince Shaddam, like his father before him, maintains a secret and illegal alliance with the Bene Tleilax. This information may prove valuable to your defense -- if you dare use it."

  "Thufir! Look at this." But the words dissolved before he could shift the face of the cube toward the Mentat. Then the message cube itself crumbled to brittle debris in his palm. He had no idea who could have sent such a bombshell to him. Is it possible that I have secret allies on Kaitain?

  Suddenly uneasy, even paranoid, Leto switched to Atreides hand signals, the secret language Duke Paulus had taught close members of his household. The young man's hawklike face darkened as he recounted what he had read and asked who could have sent it.

  The Mentat considered for just a moment, then answered with his own flickering hand gestures: "The Tleilaxu are not known for their military prowess, but this connection might explain how they could so easily crush the Ixians and their defensive technology. Sardaukar might secretly maintain control over the downtrodden populace underground." Thufir finished: "Shaddam is mixed up in this somehow, and doesn't want that fact revealed."

  Leto's fingers flashed in inquiry: "But what does that have to do with the attack inside the Heighliner? I don't see a connection."

  Hawat pursed his stained lips and spoke aloud in a husky whisper. "Maybe there isn't one. But it might not matter, so long as we can use the information in our darkest hour. I propose a bluff, my Duke. A spectacular, desperate bluff."

  In a Trial by Forfeiture, the normal rules of evidence do not apply. There are no disclosure requirements that evidence be revealed to the opposition or to the magistrates prior to the court proceedings. This places the person with secret knowledge in a uniquely powerful position -- commensurate with the extreme risk he takes.

  -Rogan's Rules of Evidence, 3rd Edition

  As Crown Prince Shaddam read the unexpected message cube from Leto Atreides, a wave of crimson rage tinted his face.

  "Sire, my defense documentation includes a full disclosure of your relationship with the Tleilaxu."

  "Impossible! How could he know?" Shouting an obscenity, Shaddam smashed the cube against the wall, chipping the indigo-veined marble. Fenring scuttled forward to pick up the pieces, anxious to preserve the evidence and read the message for himself. Shaddam glared at his advisor, as if this were somehow Fenring's fault.

  It was early evening, and the two of them had left the Palace to go to Fenring's private penthouse for a few moments of peace. Now Shaddam paced the perimeter of the spacious room, with furtive Fenring following the other like a shadow. Shaddam, though not yet formally crowned, settled onto a massive balcony chair as if it were a throne. With royal reserve, the Crown Prince eyed his friend. "So, Hasimir, how do you suppose my cousin learned about the Tleilaxu? What evidence does he have?"

  "Hm-m-m-m, he may simply be bluffing . . . ."

  "Such a guess can't be pure coincidence. We don't dare call his bluff -- if it is one. We can't risk letting the truth come out in Landsraad court." Shaddam groaned. "I don't approve of this Trial by Forfeiture business at all. Never did. It shifts responsibility for the allocation of a Great House's assets away from the Imperial throne, away from me. I think it's very bad form."

  "But there's nothing you can do about it, Sire. It's an established law, dating back to Butlerian times when House Corrino was appointed to rule the civilizations of mankind. Take heart that in the thousands of years since, this is only the fourth time forfeiture has ever been invoked, mm-m-m-m? It seems the all-or-nothing gambit is not very popular."

  Shaddam continued to scowl, looking across the evening skies at the prismatic domes of the faraway Palace, his gaze distant. "But how could he possibly know? Who talked? What did we miss? This is a disaster!"

  Fenring stopped at the edge of the balcony, looking out at the stars with his close-set, glittering eyes. He dropped his voice to an ominous whisper. "Maybe I should pay Leto Atreides a little visit in his cell, hm-m-m-m-ah? To find out exactly what he knows and how he learned of it. It's the most obvious solution to our little dilemma."

  Shaddam slouched low in the balcony chair, but it felt too hard against his back. "The Duke won't tell you anything. He's got too much to lose. He may be grasping at straws, but I've no doubt he'll carry out his threat."

  The huge eyes darkened. "When I ask questions, Shaddam, I get answers." Fenring clenched his fists. "You should know that by now, after all I've done for you."

  "That Mentat Thufir Hawat won't leave Leto's side, and he is a formidable adversary. He's called the Master of Assassins."

  "My talent, too, Shaddam. We can find a way to separate them. You command it, and I shall see that it is done." He revealed eagerness at the prospect of killing, with his pleasure heightened by the challenge at hand. Fenring's eyes shone, but Shaddam cut him off.

  "If he's as smart as he seems, Hasimir, he'll have established many guarantees for himself. Ah, yes. The moment Leto suspects a threat, he could announce whatever he knows -- and there's no telling what sort of insurance he's s
et up for himself, especially if this has been his plan all along."

  . . . full disclosure of your relationship with the Tleilaxu . . .

  A cool breeze drifted across the balcony, but he did not go back inside. "If word of our . . . project . . . comes out, the Great Houses could block me from the throne and a Landsraad attack force would be dispatched against Ix."

  "They've named it Xuttah now, Sire," Fenring muttered.

  "Whatever they call it."

  The Crown Prince ran a hand through his pomaded reddish hair. The Atreides prisoner's single line of text had shaken him more than the overthrow of a hundred worlds. He wondered how much this would have disturbed old Elrood. More than the huge revolt in the Ecaz sector early in his reign?

  Watch, and learn.

  Oh, shut up, you old vulture!

  Shaddam's brow furrowed. "Think on it, Hasimir -- it seems almost too obvious. Is there any chance at all that Duke Leto didn't destroy the Tleilaxu ships?"

  Fenring ran a finger along his pointed chin. "I doubt that very much, Sire. The Atreides ship was there, as confirmed by witnesses. The weapons had been fired, and Leto has made no secret of his anger toward the Bene Tleilax. Remember his speech at the Landsraad? He is guilty. No one could believe otherwise."

  "I'd think even a sixteen-year-old could be more subtle than that. Why would he demand a Trial by Forfeiture, then?" Shaddam hated it when he couldn't understand people and their actions. "A ridiculous risk."

  Fenring let a long pause hang in the air before he dropped his idea like a bombshell. "Because Leto knew all along he would send you that message?" He gestured toward the shrapnel of the message cube. He had to point out the obvious, since Shaddam often let his rage get the best of his reasoning faculties. He continued quickly.

  "Perhaps you are thinking backward, Sire. It may be that Leto purposely struck out at the Tleilaxu, knowing he could use the incident as a pretext to demand a Trial by Forfeiture -- a public forum in the Landsraad court during which he could expose what he knew about us? All the Imperium will be listening."

  "But why, why?" Shaddam studied the well-manicured nails on his fingers, flushed with confusion. "What does he have against me? I am his cousin!"

  Fenring sighed. "Leto Atreides is in thick with the ousted Prince of Ix. If he learned about our hand in the overthrow there and the Tleilaxu synthetic-spice work, wouldn't that be motive enough? He inherited a deep, misplaced sense of honor from his father. Consider this, then: Leto took it upon himself to punish the Bene Tleilax. But if we let him stand trial now before the Landsraad, he plans to tell of our involvement and take us down with him. It's as simple as that, hm-m-m-m? He committed the crime, all the while knowing we would have to protect him . . . to protect ourselves. Either way, he'll have punished us. At least he left a way out."

  "Ah, yes. But that's --"

  "Blackmail, Sire?"

  Shaddam drew an icy breath. "Damn him!" Now he stood up, looking Imperial at last. "Damn him! If you're right, Hasimir, we have no choice but to help him."

  The written Law of the Imperium cannot be changed, no matter which Great House holds dominion or which Emperor sits on the Golden Lion Throne. The documents of the Imperial Constitution have been established for thousands of years. This is not to say that each regime is legally identical; the variations stem from subtleties of interpretation and from microscopic loopholes that become large enough to drive a Heighliner through.

  -Law of the Imperium: Commentaries and Rebuttals

  Leto lay supine on the sling bed in his cell, feeling the warm throb of a massage mechanism beneath him as it worked the stress-tightened muscles of his neck and back. He still didn't know what he was going to do.

  So far he had received no response from the Crown Prince, and Leto was now convinced that his wild bluff would not work. Relying on the secret message had been a long shot anyway, and Leto himself had no idea what it meant. Instead, for hour after hour, he and the Mentat had continued to discuss the merits of their case and the necessity of relying on their own skills.

  Personal articles and comforts surrounded him for his use during the long hours of anticipation, contemplation, and boredom: filmbooks, fine clothing, writing instruments, even Couriers waiting outside his cell to carry personal message cubes to any recipients he chose. Everyone knew how much was at stake in this trial, and not everyone on Kaitain wanted Leto to win.

  Technically, because of the legal procedures in which he was embroiled, he no longer owned any personal items; still, he appreciated the use of them. The filmbooks and clothing provided a sense of stability, a link with what he thought of as his "former life." Since the mysterious attack inside the Heighliner, he had been thrown into a state of chaos.

  Leto's whole future, the fate of his House, and his holdings on Caladan hung precariously on the Trial by Forfeiture, all or nothing. If he failed here, his Great House would be even worse off than the renegade family Vernius. House Atreides would no longer exist -- at all.

  At least then, he thought with forced wryness, I won't have to worry about negotiating an appropriate marriage to make the best Landsraad connections. He released a deep sigh, thinking of copper-haired Kailea and her dreams for a future that would never come to pass. If he was stripped of his titles and possessions, Leto Atreides could choose to marry her without considering dynasties and politics . . . but would she, with her dreams of Kaitain and the Imperial Court, want him if he wasn't a Duke?

  Somehow, I always manage to find advantages, Rhombur had said. He could use a little more of his friend's optimism now.

  At the crowded blueplaz desk, deep in silent concentration, Thufir Hawat flipped through holo-pages projected in front of his eyes -- a compilation of the probable evidence that would be used against Leto, as well as analyses of Landsraad law. This information included the input of Atreides attorneys and the Mentat projections Hawat himself had made.

  The case rested entirely on circumstantial evidence, but it was highly compelling, beginning with Leto's own angry statement in front of the Landsraad Council. He had an obvious motive, having already declared a verbal war on the Tleilaxu.

  "It all points to my guilt, doesn't it?" Leto said. He sat up in the swaying bed, and the massage unit automatically paused.

  Hawat nodded. "Too perfectly, my Lord. And the evidence continues to grow worse. The multiphase projectile launchers on our combat pods were checked during the investigation, and found to have been fired. Quite a damning result, and it adds to the body of evidence."

  "Thufir, we know the projectiles were fired. We've reported that from the beginning. Rhombur and I went out on skeet-drone practice before the Heighliner folded space. Every member of our crew can testify to that."

  "The magistrates may not believe us. The explanation sounds too convenient, as if it were a concocted alibi. They'll think we practiced in order to establish a reason for the weapons results, because we knew we would fire upon the Tleilaxu. A simple enough trick."

  "You were always good at the intricate details," Leto said with a gentle smile. "It's your security-corps training. You pore over everything repeatedly, searching each layer, making calculations and projections."

  "That is exactly what we need right now, my Duke."

  "Don't forget that we have truth on our side, Thufir, and that's a powerful ally. Holding our heads high, we will stand before the tribunal of our peers and tell them everything that happened, and most of all what didn't happen. They must believe us, or else centuries of Atreides honor and honesty will mean nothing."

  "I wish I had your strength . . . your optimism," Hawat responded. "You show remarkable steadiness and composure." A bittersweet expression crossed his weathered face. "Your father taught you well. He would be proud of you." He flicked off the holoprojector, and the dancing pages of evidence disappeared in the heavy prison air. "So far, among the magistrates and voting members of the Landsraad jury, we do have a few who are likely to find you innocent, thanks to past allegian
ces."

  Leto smiled, but noted how uneasy his Mentat was. He swung out of bed onto the floor. Wearing a blue robe, Leto left his feet bare as he paced. A chill ran up his arms, and he adjusted the temperature in the cell. "There'll be more believers after they listen to my statement and see the evidence."

  Hawat looked at Leto as if he were a mere child again. "One advantage we have is that most of your allies will vote to acquit you solely because they despise the Tleilaxu. Regardless of what they think you may have done, you are of noble blood from a respected Landsraad family. You are one of them, and they would not destroy you to reward the Bene Tleilax. Several Houses have given us their support because of prior respect for your father. At least one magistrate was impressed by the boldness of your initial presentation at the Landsraad Council months ago."

  "But everybody still believes I did such a terrible thing?" He frowned dejectedly. "Those other reasons are incidental."