“We see safe paths through space,” said the surreal inhuman voice, “as well as safe paths into the future … And this is very dangerous terrain.”
Risks are managed through careful training and observation. And yet the trickster universe presents us with an unavoidable fact—life itself poses a risk that will one day become fatal. For everyone. No one survives forever.
—SWORDMASTER RIVVY DINARI of the Ginaz School
On the night after the four flyers were destroyed, Paul again dreamed of the red-haired girl with the elfin face and large eyes. Some of his dreams were blurred with mystery and uncertainty, but other dreams stayed in his mind with crystal clarity when he awoke, as if a holo-image floated before his eyes.
This was one of those definitive dreams. He had a clear image of the girl who would be important to him one day.
All this talk of arranging a political marriage—and the rude, personal rebuff from Duke Verdun—made Paul consider his future wife, whomever she might be. As the son of a Duke, he had the best trainers in the Imperium, as well as the sterling example set by his father, but he was only fourteen, and all his training could not erase the fact that he was a young man with uncertainties and doubts.
Was the girl in his dreams the one he would eventually marry, or was she someone else?
He needed to find out who she was. He was convinced he had caught a glimpse of her in Cala City when he was with Thufir. Though it had been but a flash, her features, hair, and eyes were so similar to what he remembered from his dreams. Was that girl on the streets the one he had envisioned? Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he had to find her.
Duke Leto was in the final preparations for his major offensive against Chaen Marek’s drug operations. Leto, Thufir, and Gurney were embroiled in strategic planning over which weaponry to use, now that they did not dare risk shields, but his father insisted that they mobilize all the Atreides forces and launch their retaliation within another day. It was an enormous operation.
Paul felt left out in the frantic, but efficient preparations. After awakening from the vivid dream again, and remembering it all morning, Paul could not sit still. He couldn’t get her image out of his thoughts, and that at least was a problem he could solve. Duncan Idaho remained at his side, ever-present friend and bodyguard, and Paul said, “Come with me into the city, Duncan. I need to … look for someone.”
The Swordmaster was surprised. “As you command, young Master.”
Paul hesitated, but he could never keep secrets from Duncan. The two had shared too much together. “I am looking for a girl. I spotted her not long ago on the streets, but lost her. I need to track her down.”
Duncan grinned. “Ah, so now I understand! That foppish Duke Verdun says his daughter is too good for you, and you need to be reminded of how many pretty young women are on Caladan.”
Paul forced a smile. “They are the most beautiful women, if you believe Gurney’s songs.”
“Gurney sings whatever words he can rhyme,” Duncan said. “But you will see for yourself. You’re at an age when the fires start to burn in your veins. Come, we’ll stay out of the way of the military preparations.”
Paul donned a merh-silk tunic with the Atreides hawk on the breast, gathered his shield belt and personal weapons. He would look the part of a Duke’s son, the heir to the noble family that had ruled this planet for so many generations.
Duncan would walk at his side, an impressive figure of contained violence. “You can do better than Junu Verdun, lad,” he muttered. “Someone like that would only make you miserable.”
That was not what worried Paul. “I had no idea what she was like. My father consulted with Thufir and my mother to develop a list of viable marriage prospects, and they will pick another one soon enough.” Distracted, he shook his head. “But there is someone who … haunts me, and I need to understand why she is in my dreams.”
Duncan clapped him on the shoulder as they set out for town. “Politics be damned. Let your father worry about appropriate alliances. No need to concern yourself with marriage today. You still have much to learn about flirtation and simple conversation with a girl your age.” His grin widened. “Once again, I can be your reliable tutor. Come with me. We’ll walk among the restaurants and taverns where you will see plenty of beautiful prospects.”
“I am looking for one person in particular. I thought I made that clear.”
“They are all particular young women. Do not limit the possibilities, especially at your tender age.”
As they worked their way down to Cala City, gulls wheeled overhead, soaring high above the great stone towers. The sky cracked with a thrumming roar as six Atreides strike craft performed maneuvers in the sky. Paul paused to look up, and Duncan followed his gaze. “We will fly together again soon, young Master, but not today. Your father finds himself in a private war on Caladan.”
“Our private war,” Paul said. “The assault launches tomorrow.”
“And we each do our part. For now, it is my mission to help you find this particular girl.”
In Cala City, the people went about their daily activities. Restaurants opened, fish markets set out the morning’s catch, weavers displayed hypnotic tapestries that were unworthy imitations of those woven by the Sisters in Isolation on the Eastern Continent. A baliset maker trained on Chusuk demonstrated his wares by pulling melodies from the air.
Increased numbers of Atreides city guard patrolled the streets, and Duke Leto had drawn together all his remaining forces for the assault against Chaen Marek. All leave was suspended, and perimeter missions and policing actions had been recalled for a singular focus on the illicit drug operations.
Duncan strode beside his young ward. Paul barely came up to the Swordmaster’s shoulders. The two passed taverns and cafés, including the same establishment where he and Thufir had sat during their “impossible choice” exercise only a few days ago. From there, Paul was able to locate the street and corner where he had spotted the girl.
Alas, he had no reason to suspect she would be in the same place, but Paul had nowhere else to begin his search. “Let’s go over here.”
A young woman was scrubbing tables and gathering tankards in an outdoor tavern. Seeing her, Duncan nudged Paul. “Look, that one’s pretty enough. I like her braids and smile.”
The tavern worker knew they were talking about her and glanced up. Recognizing the Duke’s son, she flushed and offered a shy smile.
Paul lowered his voice. “I’m certain she is sweet, but she is not my ‘particular’ one.”
Duncan grunted. “I think you are too particular, lad.”
As they walked past the outdoor tavern, the serving maiden went back to her work, straightening tables and chairs, and found a package left in a corner. The parcel was wrapped in a strange folded covering, adorned with metallic ribbons. She looked around, but saw no one taking ownership of it.
Something caught Paul’s eye. He paused in his step, suddenly alert. An ominous crackle of dread flared up inside him. He turned.
The tavern maiden picked up the box, bent closer to it.
A rush of foreboding shot down Paul’s back, demanding action. His hand moved in a blur, and he slapped his shield belt, activating the shimmering field though he didn’t know who or where the enemy was. “Wait!”