Brian Herbert - Navigators of Dune

She drifted, as if trying to grasp what he was saying. “How will you hide it and guard it?”

“Combined Mercantiles just purchased an entire sietch in the desert, bought out the tribe of people who are living there and forced them to move. I will show you as soon as we reach Arrakis. Soon, we will fill those caves with spice so you and your Navigators will always have what you need. We can ride out any political turmoil in the Imperium.”

“It would be wise to enlarge our existing reserves on Kolhar and Denali as well,” she said. “We don’t want to put all of our eggs in one basket.”

“Of course, but those will be smaller stockpiles. Arrakis is the best place to hold the big reserve.”

“All right. Now finish your meeting so that we can go.”

He turned as the straight-backed Umberto Harte was escorted onto the piloting deck. Harte’s every step was like a parade presentation. He was handsome and middle-aged, with crow’s feet just beginning to appear around his eyes. His trim brown hair was perfectly in place, and his medal-bedecked uniform was spotless and freshly pressed. Despite his cool professionalism, his gaze smoldered.

“Thank you for joining me, Admiral,” Josef said. “As before, I’m here to verify the health and disposition of your troops, who are my guests.”

“Prisoners, you mean.”

“Your crew is being held so they cannot harm either my interests or themselves. It is necessary until this unfortunate situation is resolved.”

“We are loyal to the Emperor. That will not change.”

Josef raised his eyebrows. “Do you mean Emperor Salvador, who dispatched you on patrol? I prefer not to speak ill of the dead, but let’s not delude ourselves. You know that man was bringing the human race to ruin.”

Harte sniffed. “Roderick Corrino is Emperor now. Our loyalty transferred to him as soon as he accepted the crown.”

Josef made a dismissive gesture. “Roderick has not yet shown himself worthy of your loyalty—or mine.” He stroked his bushy mustache. “Though I did have such high hopes.”

“Directeur Venport, it is the duty of my soldiers to fight against all threats—including your uprising. We are loyal to the Imperium.”

“The Imperium … a weak and shaky construct that has existed for less than a century. We are talking about the future of civilization itself! Who is most qualified to lead the human race, to guide us where we wish to go? The insane Butlerians, who want us to hurl ourselves over a cliff into a new dark age? Believe me, Admiral, I would much rather work with Roderick … but if he doesn’t have humanity’s best interests at heart, then I will be forced to make a political shift.”

He leaned closer to the indignant commander, noted tiny beads of perspiration on the man’s brow. “I do not question your loyalty or your military skill, sir. I believe your captured fighters are good men and women, but they are operating under a misguided sense of their own best interests. That’s why I’m forced to hold your ships until this misunderstanding is over. It should not take too long, I hope.”

Harte’s response was cold. “You are a traitor. Do you intend to seize the throne for yourself?”

Josef laughed. “I’d rather not be Emperor unless it is absolutely necessary. I am only interested in a stable future for humankind so I can conduct important interplanetary business.” He realized that this discussion was going nowhere, and Norma was anxious to be off to Arrakis. “You are dismissed, Admiral. My representatives will see that you are well cared for. Do your soldiers have any special needs at the moment?”

“Yes, our freedom.”

“I’ll take that under consideration. Thank you for your time.”

Josef felt disappointed. Under different circumstances, Umberto Harte might have been a very worthwhile asset, but Josef had to let cooler heads prevail. Eventually, Roderick should come to understand the best solution. A man blinded by revenge was not a fit negotiator.

Norma was still there waiting, drifting in spice gas, and he turned to her tank. “Let me say goodbye to Cioba, and then you and I will head off to Arrakis.”

“I don’t understand the politics of the Sisterhood at all,” said Haditha. “They insist they aren’t religious, yet they follow rituals and practices suggesting exactly the opposite.” She lowered her voice. “Frankly, I don’t trust them.”

“My love, there are a great many people whom I don’t trust—Josef Venport and Manford Torondo foremost among them,” Roderick said. “Yet the Imperium must function, and I need a new Truthsayer.”

His auburn-haired wife wore a white dress with gold brocade on the collar and sleeves, and a beret to match. They stood together in one of the palace gardens, awaiting the arrival of the Truthsayer who would take Dorotea’s place. With the new Mother Superior, most of the Sisters were being replaced at the Imperial Court. Something to do with internal politics, his advisers had informed him. A changing of the guard.

While waiting in the quiet greenhouse gardens, Roderick used the time to kneel on a pad and plant the cutting of an ornamental rose, taken from rootstock that had been in the Corrino/Butler family since before the Battle of Corrin. Emperor Faykan, Roderick’s grandfather, had started the tradition of planting roses as a sign of good luck for the reign, and Roderick intended to carry it forward. Salvador had not done so, complaining that it was unseemly for an Emperor to get his hands dirty with gardening work. Roderick did not place stock in superstitions, but his brother’s reign had not gone particularly well.…

Now that he was Emperor, Roderick had decided to establish another tradition. He would rule the people of the Imperium with a just and honorable hand, and would raise his twelve-year-old son, Javicco, to behave in the same manner. Roderick supposed all Emperors began their reigns with silent vows, of one sort or another.

“I still think you should consider negotiating with Directeur Venport,” Haditha said. “At least make the attempt.”

“If General Roon is successful, I won’t need to negotiate.” The large strike force had just departed for Kolhar, with all the ships finally loaded aboard the military carrier.

“The Imperium still needs Venport’s ships, his Navigators, his technology. Isn’t a resolution better than a conquest?”

He frowned at her. His wife always tried to be the voice of wisdom and reason. “He murdered my brother. I must make him feel profound pain before I can consider his debt paid.”

Haditha knelt near him, closely examining an exotic flower, one that bloomed all year, no matter the weather. Then she looked at him. “Is that what’s best for the Imperium, or is it just your own personal vendetta?”

“The Emperor and the Imperium are one,” he said, with a deep sigh. “Let us wait and hear the report from General Roon. If Kolhar is defeated, it will put our negotiations on a much different footing. We both want this conflict over, but we have very different ideas of how to accomplish that.”

He finished tamping down the new soil around the rose planting, and then straightened with her as an escort of Imperial guards led several black-robed women into the greenhouse garden. At the front of the group, a large-framed woman presented herself with a formal bow. “Sire, I am Reverend Mother Fielle. I have been assigned as your new Truthsayer.”

Roderick wiped his hands on a cloth, looked at the entourage. “And these other Sisters?”

“To fill the roles of those who were recalled to Wallach IX at the request of Mother Superior Valya.” They all bowed. “Sire, we exist to serve.”