Navigators of Dune

9

“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.”

Roderick caught his wife’s suspicious frown and admitted his own uneasiness. “But whom do you serve? Your Emperor? Or your order … or perhaps the highest bidder among the noble houses?”

Fielle’s fleshy face showed no reaction. “Who could possibly bid higher than the Emperor himself? We serve the Sisterhood as well, but that is a school where female candidates seek to achieve the greatest human potential. We develop a special set of skills, such as my ability to discern truth from lies. The Mother Superior deemed me worthy of filling that role for you, and I am pleased to be here.”

“Then I accept your services,” he said. “Provisionally.” He did not know the new Mother Superior Valya any more than he knew Fielle. “We shall let you prove your worth.”

Fielle bowed slightly. “Sire, to begin my service with a goodwill gesture, I am prepared to offer secret information about your rival Directeur Venport. You may find it valuable, or at least interesting. And it will begin to prove my value to you.”

Roderick was intrigued. “Information about Venport could indeed be of use to me.”

The Sisters conferred in whispers, and then Fielle reported, “Venport Holdings is desperate to control the spice operations on Arrakis for reasons that go beyond mere profits. I’m sure you realize that the Imperial military force your brother left there is not capable of maintaining control over the planet. Combined Mercantiles, a puppet corporation for Venport Holdings, continues harvesting spice, producing far more than the independent Imperial contractors. Sooner or later Venport will no longer tolerate the Imperial presence, and their incentive will be to drive out your ships. Combined Mercantiles has more spice-gathering crews on the desert planet than you do, and greater military might to defend them. The resources that Directeur Venport is willing to expend to control Arrakis exceeds what you can spare, especially with Admiral Harte’s battle group held hostage.”

Roderick scowled. “I do not have any spare ships that I can use to impose my authority on Arrakis.” But if Roon is successful at Kolhar, I will win control over all the VenHold operations anyway.

Roderick ground his teeth together. That infernal planet had caused so much trouble, and his brother’s inept handling of an attempted takeover had led to the current crisis — as well as his own death. Frowning, he said, “That confirms information I already have, Truthsayer. You have told me nothing new.”

“You cannot extract your mining crews and troops from Arrakis. They are struggling to defend their spice operations, but they have no feasible way to deliver the spice they produce, other than by using black-market runners, who steal as much as they sell. Your citizens are addicted and demanding melange, and they are growing restless. They need to see the flow of spice restored.”

Roderick admitted, “We didn’t station enough firepower there to hold spice operations under Imperial control, and I don’t have the forces to recapture it. Venport’s profits must be immense if he continues to expend so much to maintain his operations there.”

“Spice means more than just profits to Directeur Venport. You must understand this, Sire.” Fielle gazed at him. “He needs to provide a constant supply of spice for his Navigators. Without spice, his Navigators cannot envision safe paths through the universe. Without spice, he cannot create more Navigators. Without spice, Venport Holdings cannot function. That is why Arrakis is so vital to him.”

“And how did you come by this information?” Haditha interjected, looking suspicious.

“I cannot reveal our internal source, but Mother Superior Valya requested that I share this knowledge with you.”

Frowning, Roderick said, “I will consider it thoroughly.” Then he spoke to the honor guard. “Take these women to the quarters vacated by the previous Sisters. Reverend Mother Dorotea served me well — so when I have need of a Truthsayer, I hope I can trust you as I did her.”

As if choreographed, Fielle and the women bowed in unison, then turned to follow their escort, leaving Roderick and Haditha next to the new rosebush. He spoke quietly, relying on his wife as a sounding board, as he always did.

“I am far more worried about Venport and his control of Arrakis than I am about the schemes of those women. But General Roon and his strike force should reach Kolhar soon. If he breaks Venport Holdings, then we will have all the time we need to reassert control over Arrakis.” He drew a deep breath. “The Imperium will be stable again.”