“It is true that he died,” Malina said guardedly. “And the records will indicate that he was among the Otorio casualties.”
The Empress walked along the path of prismatic gravel, tossing her dark hair. “He was a poor and distracted lover, but he had a kind heart.”
“My daughter will say all the appropriate things about her husband,” Malina said. “But Jalma has now taken complete control over House Uchan. Everything fit together perfectly.”
“So the attack has a silver lining.” The Empress looked wistful. “You always taught me that advantages can be seen if one expands the view wide enough.”
Early in her vibrant, beautiful youth—under a different name and slightly different appearance—Aricatha had served as a valued concubine for House Hagal and then House Uchan on Pliesse, where she had come to the notice of CHOAM.
Malina Aru had seen the young woman’s potential, and while Aricatha was in the court of Count Uchan, CHOAM gave her secret lessons, training her aggressively in business interests and personal manipulation. CHOAM had thousands of years of influence on market conditions, trade interactions, and personal alliances.
When it became clear that Shaddam IV would soon be wanting a new wife, Malina Aru began to pull strings behind the scenes, and Aricatha was the perfect subject. CHOAM would control the Empress’s throne as well.
When her daughter, Jalma, married old Count Uchan, who had not serviced his beautiful young concubine for a year anyway, Aricatha was whisked away from Pliesse. All records of her duties as a concubine were expunged. A past identity was created for her, along with impeccable (fabricated) noble bloodlines, and she was infiltrated into a neutral Landsraad House. When Shaddam chose to remarry again, after curtly disposing of Firenza, Aricatha was the obvious and perfect candidate.
Now that she sat on the throne, Aricatha did not forget that Malina Aru’s manipulations had helped put her there.
The two women paused by a mirrorlike pool in which swam hungry golden fish. On a pedestal beside the pool sat a small aquarium filled with crickets. Aricatha reached in, pulled out one of the black insects, and tossed it to the water. The golden fish swarmed and fought, devouring the cricket.
Malina reached in and took a bug of her own, tossed it into the pool, and watched the ensuing frenzy. “That reminds me of the Landsraad as nobles fight over the empty seats.”
“My husband will be adamant about choosing only those who swear blind loyalty to him.”
“And he will find them,” Malina said. “We know the hearts of the nobles.”
Whenever Aricatha heard something significant to CHOAM, she was instructed to dispatch a secret message to Frankos Aru in the Silver Needle, who then forwarded them to his mother on Tupile.
As an offhand report a year earlier, Aricatha had let Malina Aru know that Shaddam intended to annex a minor world called Otorio, where he would raze part of the landscape and commence construction of an unprecedented Corrino museum. Aricatha had not known the significance of that backwater planet, simply reported the information as a matter of course. She had no idea what Otorio meant to the Aru family.
Malina now regretted that she had chosen not to tell her son Jaxson about it immediately. She had miscalculated just how mortally offended he would be when his father’s burial shrine and the sacred olive grove were desecrated.
“I am also trying to expand my role here in the palace,” Aricatha continued. “So far, my dear Shaddam has given me only empty activities for a pretty Empress at silly events. I cut ribbons and place wreaths, but I am qualified to do more than that.”
“Of course you are,” Malina said.
With the exception perhaps of Anirul, Shaddam’s other wives had been untrained and unequal to the task or the opportunity. Aricatha would play her role perfectly, and Shaddam would underestimate her, as would most of the Landsraad. They would see only the jeweled, elegant lady and not begin to imagine the sharp and dangerous ambition she concealed inside, like a razor-sharp dagger hidden in a jeweled sheath.
“I will find a way to make him appoint me as a diplomat, an ambassador to some important world.”
“That would be quite advantageous,” Malina said, “but don’t belittle your role as Empress. You can continue to give me the information I need.”
“And my dear Shaddam will keep providing it,” Aricatha said. “It will be a most beneficial relationship.”
Euphoria can be produced through a variety of means—emotional, educational, religious, or chemical.
—Suk Doctor Handbook
The prospect of the journey north to the Muadh temple delighted Paul. Although the Duke often traveled alone and unguarded here on Caladan, and he and Paul went on their annual wilderness expeditions accompanied by only a few companions, the current uproar in the Imperium necessitated additional security for the trip.
Duncan Idaho joined the entourage as Paul’s personal bodyguard, and a contingent of Atreides house guards escorted Duke Leto and Lady Jessica. The Atreides entourage was led by Lieutenant Nupree, who had specifically asked to travel to the tiered pundi rice paddies and flooded farmlands. Since the young lieutenant had a clean service record and performed his duties well, Duke Leto allowed it. When pressed for a reason, Nupree had admitted, “I’ve always wanted to see the Arondi Cliffs, m’Lord. I hear they are quite remarkable.”
The Duke, Jessica, and the rest of their group set off in a sedate and luxurious processional frigate, while Paul and Duncan flew separately in a shielded escort flyer.
As the flying procession approached the pundi rice fields after four hours in the air, Paul was impatient. “You and I could have flown faster, Duncan! We should show off what these engines can do.”
“We could, but there is no need to rush. Sometimes waiting for a thing is part of the enjoyment. Is your mother not teaching you patience and control? I have seen you sit motionless for hours as you think about one muscle at a time.”
Paul was surprised Duncan had seen their private training. “That’s different. It enhances my skills. It helps me become a better fighter. This is just a … a trip.”
“When I was at the Ginaz School, the Swordmasters would make us sit motionless for hours, sometimes a full day, without explanation, without giving us a goal. We learned to understand and accept futility.”
At the piloting controls, Paul glanced over at him. “You speak as if that’s a good thing.”
“Even a Duke or an Emperor cannot always control the universe, young Master. It is best to be prepared for that eventuality.”
Paul looked down to see the landscape dotted with a web of silvery canals, shallow pools, irrigation sluices. In the sides of a deep river valley, the farmers had excavated spectacular terraces, lush steps in precarious vertical layers, each one covered with extensive rice paddies that were harvested, then planted again. The intensity of the green made Paul’s eyes ache.
Though the terrain around the terraced valley was mostly flat, a startling buttress of rock lurched out of the ground like a mountain in the middle of a wet plain. Before the trip, Paul had studied the geological anomaly with Dr. Wellington Yueh, the Suk doctor for House Atreides and one of his teachers. The Arondi Cliffs were two thousand meters high, sheer granite that looked as if a seismic knife had sliced half of a mountain away. Rubble lay around the base from rocks that continued to slough off.