First, he had an important meeting, one that might mitigate the Emperor’s infernal spice surtax, which had already begun to stifle melange use.
With his bulk supported by suspensors, the Baron met his visitor in front of a military manufacturing facility, his largest such complex on Giedi Prime. Black streaks caused by acid rain ran down the front of the factory building, like drying tears. Nearby, two workmen stood on a platform, scrubbing a stained statue of his father, Dmitri Harkonnen, which graced the factory entrance.
Ur-Director Malina Aru emerged from a groundcar, accompanied by her pet spinehounds. The predatory animals looked deadlier than any Harkonnen guards, but the Baron knew the Urdir was far more dangerous than her pets.
Malina was a slender woman who exuded unflappable professionalism, clearly not prone to excess. Her brown eyes had the intensity of a raptor. She wore a dark business jacket, trousers, and a white blouse. A small CHOAM guard force emerged from a separate vehicle that pulled up like an armored troop carrier.
The Baron wore his own version of business attire, a loose orange tunic and billowing trousers, with a gold Harkonnen medallion on a chain around his neck. He greeted her, and she granted him her attention, although without warmth. He had met the Ur-Director in passing at Imperial functions, and he understood what a shrewd businesswoman she was, how efficiently she ran the CHOAM Company. Now, thanks to Piter’s suggestion, House Harkonnen and CHOAM might do lucrative business together, secret and dangerous business. Such an arrangement required mutual trust and a recognition of each other’s power.
Balanced, even graceful with his suspensors, the Baron loomed over the small woman. Malina Aru was not intimidated. Her spinehounds padded forward and regarded the Baron as if he might become a feast. The armed CHOAM entourage followed her, but he had snipers stationed in unseen places.
The Baron indicated the armed escort. “You can leave your guards out here, Urdir. You’re perfectly safe on Giedi Prime.”
“No one is perfectly safe.” She narrowed her eyes and looked to his arm, where the medcast was covered by the loose orange sleeve. “I hope you have recovered from your injuries on Arrakis? I was shocked to read the detailed report of that assassination attempt from desert brigands. And aboard your own shuttle! That must have been quite a lapse of security.” She clucked her tongue. “I assume you have reassessed all Harkonnen protective measures.”
Her comment astonished him, because he thought he had covered up the incident, except for what Count Fenring’s local spies had reported. A thrill of fear shot through him. Was Malina working with Fenring? And thus connected with the Emperor?
He recovered quickly, knowing it would do no good to dissemble in front of this woman. Instead, he said, “I am completely healed from my accident, and the perpetrators have been dealt with.” He still felt occasional throbs of pain, and the knitted bones of his left wrist were still weaker than he liked, but he would not show it. “Yes, I have enhanced security measures across all Harkonnen holdings. I assure you, our meeting is perfectly safe.” He again looked at her security escort, lowered his voice. “For such matters as we need to discuss, the fewer ears the better.”
The Urdir responded with a thin smile. “My associates can remain nearby on call, but Har and Kar go with me.” She gently patted the silver bristles of her spinehounds.
“Yes, you may bring your … interesting pets.” He turned toward the entrance of the munitions factory. “We will share a meal and talk in private inside the complex. I have a special room where we can be completely candid as to our needs and expectations.”
She gave orders for the escort to fall back, then strolled alongside the Baron’s light, bobbing steps into the burly factory. The spinehounds trotted behind her like well-trained soldiers, never taking their yellow eyes off the Baron.
As she accompanied him into the factory foyer, she said, “Your message described an interesting business proposal regarding CHOAM’s access to spice.” She seemed eager to start their discussions as soon as they entered the building. “I am interested, but skeptical—pending details.”
“First things first,” he said. “I’m hungry. We have plenty of time.”
The Ur-Director cut him off so efficiently that he didn’t at first react to the rudeness. “Time is valuable and should not be squandered.”
“I assure you, Urdir, that this will not be a waste of time.” They stepped onto a lift large enough to accommodate his size and rose to the second level, where windows and walkways looked down upon the immense factory floor below. The manufacturing bay hummed with activity.
With suspensor-enhanced steps, the Baron led her to a catwalk that extended out over the factory floor to an isolated annex chamber that hung like an island over the activity. His fat body barely squeezed between the metal handrails that bordered the walkway. Below, new Harkonnen military equipment was being assembled for shipment to Arrakis. Showing no anxiety, Malina followed him across the high catwalk.
They entered the annex chamber, which had no other access point, and when they were inside, a waiting servant sealed the door, enclosing them in a blanket of silence. The floor of the isolated room was made of thick, transparent plaz to show the manufacturing activity below. Malina and the Baron seemed to be standing on air as they approached a long table in the center of the room. “Our meal will be along presently,” he said.
The spinehounds glanced at their paws on the transparent floor. They looked up at the Ur-Director, drew reassurance, and took positions on either side of her chair. “I will sit with you for the meal, Baron, so long as we engage in concurrent discussions.”
“Efficiency saves money and time. We discuss my proposal while we eat.” He tried to sound casual, but noticed her calculating gaze as she took her seat. Har and Kar rested on the invisible floor.
A parade of servants marched across the catwalk, each bearing a tray of food. They entered and placed platters on the table, a selection of sliced meats, glistening sauces, roasted vegetables, large steamed crustaceans. One servant draped a bib across the Baron’s orange tunic, and he selected several of the largest crustaceans, cracking the shells with his fingers and stuffing seafood into his mouth.
Malina politely tasted a small serving of food. The spinehounds pricked up their thorny ears, then relaxed again. “In CHOAM, I have enough wealth to do as I like, and I am not easily impressed,” she said. “Please provide more details about your proposal. How will you implement it, and what will you need from me? Have you brought me here to ask for a secret loan? Has the Guild Bank turned you down?”
The Baron roared with laughter, a deep belly laugh that shook his entire body. “With my income from spice operations on Arrakis, I assure you House Harkonnen has no need of a loan from CHOAM, or the Guild Bank, or even a generous benefactor such as yourself.” He nodded toward slices of meat in a brown glaze. “Try the rukka fillets. Highly intelligent creatures, and delicious.”
She did so, pronounced the taste satisfactory, and waited for him to continue.
The Baron tried to crack through her stony, professional demeanor. “I would like us to be friends, Urdir.”
“If I thought of us as enemies, I would not have come here with such a small personal guard.” She fed morsels of meat to her spinehounds.