Fenring knew he was lying; he had his own sources of information. “Interesting. Hmmm-ahh … a household accident, indeed.”
The Baron squirmed, but gave no additional details.
Fenring had done his own investigating and compiled a thorough intelligence report. The real reason had not been difficult to determine at all, nor did it appear to have anything to do with Jaxson Aru or the attack, but it was certainly no clumsy household accident. As planetary governor, Vladimir Harkonnen did not want to admit unrest or violence on Arrakis. The assassination attempt made him look weak.
Fenring would not let him believe his clumsy deception had succeeded. “Did you really think the Emperor would not know about the malcontents who attacked your shuttle? The assassination attempt on your person?” His voice had a razor edge. “You did not consider it relevant that desert rabble nearly killed the designated governor of one of the most important planets in the Imperium?”
The fat man began sweating profusely. “It was … an internal matter, and it has been dealt with.”
“Yes, ahhhh, I saw the heads outside the gate.”
“House Harkonnen takes our spice operations seriously, and we will defend them against outside interference or internal unrest.” Now the Baron looked smug. “I ordered my nephew Rabban to increase security, and I brought in additional troops from Giedi Prime. I assure you that melange production is secure.” He visibly swallowed. “We are even rooting out nests of highly organized smugglers in the desert, which will further cut down our losses. Emperor Shaddam will be pleased.”
The Count tapped his fingers together. This is a man of lies, he thought. But Fenring understood him. He had gotten the answers he needed, and would report to Shaddam that Baron Vladimir Harkonnen did not appear to be involved with the rebels or the attack on Otorio. Clearly, the Baron had intended to go to Otorio, so he’d possessed no knowledge of the planned massacre.
But that was only one reason the Emperor had dispatched Fenring here. He stared at the Baron in silence, waiting to deliver his decree, making the other man uncomfortable.
Finally, the Baron cleared his throat with a rumble. “And what is it you want of me? You said the Emperor had an important message? I have a busy schedule tonight.”
“Yes, mmmm, I will be brief. In light of the costly devastation from the recent terrorist attack, the Emperor is forced to seek an unorthodox remedy. In order to pay for that damage, as well as the costs of significantly increased security and enhanced military forces in key positions, the Padishah Emperor commands that you impose a surtax on all spice production and distribution. This surtax will be painful but necessary, and you will make sure that it is implemented.”
Spluttering, the Baron raised himself up on his suspensor belt. “A surtax on top of our costs? But that would cause serious harm to the market! Our profit margins are already narrow, with the amount of equipment that gets damaged and lost in this hellish place! The customers will balk at paying more—”
“And yet they will pay, hmmm?”
The Baron fumed. “Yes. Some of them will pay, but others will buy less.” He struck his desk with his wrapped hand and winced in pain. “Tell the Emperor this is unacceptable! We already endure extreme Imperial taxes on melange, and this will take us beyond the breaking point.”
“With all due respect, my dear Baron, if you have a response for Emperor Shaddam, you will have to tell him yourself. I am not your messenger. I am his.” Fenring smiled thinly, rather like he smiled at people when he slipped a knife between their ribs.
As Fenring turned to leave, Baron Harkonnen lowered himself back into his expanded chair under the weight of his new obligations.
* * *
BACK AT THE Residency, Count Fenring found his Bene Gesserit wife in the conservatory, a room she loved more than any other. This lush garden chamber in the south wing seemed out of place on the arid planet. Lush, verdant plants were a luxury that only the wealthy and privileged could afford to keep, an extravagance that consumed so much water.
Once he passed through the door seal, Fenring approached Margot, standing so close to her that their elbows touched. Both of them smiled, adoring each other’s presence. They spoke in voices so low that the white noise of the splashing water from a small fountain would disrupt any covert listening devices.
Fenring always confided in his wife. “The fat man told me two lies—about how he was injured and why he skipped the Otorio celebration.”
“Do you believe he knew about Jaxson Aru’s plans ahead of time? Is House Harkonnen involved in the rebellion?”
“No, he is merely trying to protect himself from embarrassment. He had his own security incident, which he wants to hide from the Emperor. If the Otorio massacre had not occurred, few would have noted his absence, but the fact that he conveniently survived has drawn unwanted attention.”
“So the Baron is actually innocent?” Margot sounded surprised.
“Oh, Vladimir Harkonnen is far from innocent, my dear! But he is not guilty of conspiring with the Noble Commonwealth.”
She stroked his forehead with a fingertip. “How much sleep have you been getting? You look tired.” She kissed him on one cheek. “Poor darling.”
“Mmmm, I feel refreshed simply being in your presence. Tomorrow, I return to my official duties as Spice Observer and my unofficial job as liaison to the smugglers. Much will change now that the Emperor is cracking down. It may push people to … inappropriate actions.”
Margot remained in the conservatory, tending her plants, while Fenring retired to their private chambers, heeding her suggestion about getting some rest. He lay on their spacious bed, covering his eyes with a cloth.
He thought about his sweet wife, as he often did when she was not in bed with him, not in his arms. Some considered the two of them to be complete opposites, but they had quite an endearing relationship. Margot didn’t have his reputation as a killer, but he knew his wife was deadly in her own right. She possessed an arsenal of Bene Gesserit fighting techniques, although she had never admitted to killing anyone herself.
Still, Lady Margot had more innate goodness than he did, and her gentle ways brought out a greater measure of good in him. He appreciated that. Her loving attentions were a nice respite from his professional work.
Through fervent beliefs and secret revelations that are denied to others, religions can easily be manipulated. They can also act as a stabilizing influence by creating a community united by a bond of beliefs.
—Bene Gesserit internal document, “Analysis of Uncontaminated Religions”
Each Guild ship that arrived at Caladan delivered news updates about the confusion echoing throughout the Imperium. Duke Leto carefully studied the reports, read the minutes of Landsraad emergency sessions, watched the Emperor’s responses. He saw a recording of the speech in which CHOAM’s Ur-Director denounced her own son Jaxson Aru.
He was glad to be far away and at home on Caladan.
The Duke was not like the ambitious nobles who saw opportunities in the tragedy, ways to enhance the stature of their Houses. Even as they expressed dismay and grief about the fallen nobles, the family leaders bribed, argued, and jockeyed for position to fill the empty seats. As a respected Landsraad member himself, Leto could have gone to Kaitain and used his influence to expand the Atreides power base, but he felt it would be ghoulish, like plucking coins from a dead man’s eyes. He would not lower himself to such nonsense for the opportunity to rule other planets he did not need or want.