Navigators of Dune

24

As dawn light cast its soft glow over the city of Zimia, Emperor Roderick sat in his palace office, rubbing his eyes from lack of sleep. It had been a long night, but he needed the quiet time to attend to countless matters of state. His predecessor, Salvador, had delegated many of the decisions and details, often to his brother, but Emperor Roderick planned to keep a firm grasp on his government. The machinery of an empire has an infinite number of tiny gears.

And one of those large gears was going to crush Josef Venport. Roderick read a confirmation of action and exhaled a long, satisfied sigh. Even without the results of General Roon’s strike force, whatever had happened to it and all of the soldiers, Roderick had just secured a clear victory against his enemy, a different kind of attack that would bring VenHold to its knees. When he reread the document, he could already feel the Imperial treasury swelling with new wealth. And the Directeur could do nothing about it.

In an unprecedented move, Roderick had used his authority to seize control of all VenHold banks operating on Imperial planets. This one executive order would deprive the tycoon of significant assets, freezing much of his wealth. Venport’s commercial empire would suddenly find itself without cash to continue operations, to buy fuel or commodities, to hire traders, to pay the salaries of pilots and crew. The man undoubtedly had other sources of wealth and hidden funds in illicit accounts, but this would hurt him, and hurt him badly.

Far too much time had passed since the departure of the Kolhar strike force, and by now Roderick feared that General Roon had been defeated or otherwise lost — a crippling blow to the Imperial Armed Forces. But this seizure of assets was an even greater wound to the man who had murdered Salvador.

Roderick knew it wasn’t good enough, though. Directeur Venport’s fleet of fast spacefolders traveled throughout the Imperium with impunity; he still held Admiral Harte’s entire Imperial battle group hostage over Kolhar; and in a bold move Venport had just reasserted control over the lucrative spice operations on Arrakis, neutralizing the Imperial guardian ships and seizing the contract melange harvesting teams.

But now the lion’s share of Venport’s operating capital had been pulled into the Imperial treasury. Yes, it had been a very productive night.

Hoping to catch at least a little rest, Roderick tidied his papers and message cylinders. Although dawn’s light already streamed through the crystal windows, he wanted to slip back to his suite before Haditha awoke, so he could spend just a little time beside her in bed; he wouldn’t sleep, but he always felt rejuvenated next to her.

When he opened the office door, though, he was surprised to see his Truthsayer standing like a statue under the glowing lights, as if she had known exactly when he would emerge. “I must speak with you, Sire. I have news. Another solution for the Venport problem. I think you will be pleased.”

Roderick noticed a second figure next to Fielle, a wild-eyed man trying to hide in the large woman’s shadow. The stranger had a lean, tanned face and unkempt black hair. He wore the exotic desert clothing of a worker from offworld.

Roderick was ready to shout for the guards. “What is this? How did he get into the secure section of the Palace?”

Fielle gestured the stranger forward. “I slipped him in here, Sire. He only just arrived by a black-market transport from Arrakis. We paid handsomely for his passage, but it will be worth every solari.” She stood between the stranger and Roderick, and the Emperor sensed that Fielle would instantly kill the man if he made an inappropriate move.

“Speak,” he said coldly.

“As you authorized, Sire, I made overtures to my contacts on Arrakis. Even though Combined Mercantiles controls most of the melange operations, and your Imperial ships have been rendered impotent — there are other ways to sabotage Directeur Venport.”

Roderick controlled a smile. Perhaps this night would be even more productive. “How?”

“Our spies located several willing desert men, who found other cooperative desert men, who asked further questions, that led us to this man.” She glanced at the stranger. “His name is Modoc. He and his companions are willing to offer their services to you. That is why I brought him here in this fashion, so he would not be seen.”

Roderick eyed the strange, anxious offworlder. “And what can he provide for me? How can he hurt my enemy?”

“Modoc knows of a vulnerability that Directeur Venport doesn’t even realize he has. I have already interrogated him in my special way, and I believe he is sincere.”

The Freeman bowed awkwardly, then looked up with a peculiar air of confidence. He spoke with a thick accent. “I don’t understand the vastness of your Imperium, Sire. I once had a younger brother who spoke of offworld wonders, and we considered him strange. I may have been hasty in dismissing his dreams.”

Still wary, Roderick pressed, “And what information do you bring?”

The desert man seemed to be calculating, considering how to say something, but Fielle spoke sharply to him. “Tell the Emperor what you told me.”

Modoc said, “I know the precise location of an enormous hidden spice bank that Josef Venport built. He evicted my tribe so that he could fill the chambers with his stockpiles of spice, including all the spice he confiscated from your operations. These are all of his reserves.”

Roderick frowned. “Even knowing where it is, I could not send enough of a military fleet to breach Venport’s defenses.”

Modoc narrowed his blue-within-blue eyes. “Ah, Venport thinks he is untouchable, but my people know exactly how to do it.”

The Truthsayer had more to offer. “With your authorization and tactical support, Sire, Modoc and his people will destroy the stockpile for you — for a fee.”

Roderick struggled to keep his expression neutral. He had just crippled VenHold finances by seizing the bank assets, and if he could also eliminate such a large stockpile, then Venport would receive a second immense setback. Surely, it would be a mortal wound. “It could bankrupt him,” he said in a low voice.

Roderick could not afford to redirect what remained of his main Imperial fleet from defending Salusa, but if these desert bandits could deal a blow to Venport through an efficient commando operation, he had nothing to lose.

With a nod he said to Fielle, “Make the arrangements and give Modoc what he needs. Destroy the stockpile, and that might very well destroy Venport.”

Modoc bowed. “Consider it done, Sire.”

Roderick dismissed them and stepped away from his office. Dawn was brightening, and he was eager to get back to his room, though he no longer felt the need for sleep.