Nothing short of complete obedience would be acceptable now. The Sisterhood would get what they demanded, or they would destroy her beloved Leto and his entire noble house.
Jessica realized he was still waiting for an answer.
She could not tell him.
His face was carved in stone. “I see you are still keeping secrets from me. Maybe that’s all you are at your core—secrets. We see things very differently, you and I.” He turned back to his work, ignoring her.
Jessica retreated, using Bene Gesserit techniques to shore up her dignity, to control her emotions. But inside, her heart had shattered into a million pieces.
For a strong person, defeat is merely a matter of perspective. What some would consider a setback, others view as inspiration. Thus, I have been “inspired” many times.
—JAXSON ARU, A New Dawn for the Noble Commonwealth
From a small camouflaged craft in high orbit, Jaxson Aru looked down at the blue-green expanse of oceans and untouched wilderness of Caladan. As he waited impatiently for the delayed cargo shuttle, he thought again that this planet should be free and independent. All worlds in the Imperium must be allowed to determine their own political futures, control their own economies and commercial alliances, without being entangled in a suffocating Imperial net.
Duke Leto Atreides did not recognize or appreciate the potential he controlled as ruler of a world with so many resources. Jaxson had held such high hopes for the man and saw a kindred spirit. He liked Leto. The Duke did not seem to be a political patsy, but apparently, he was not a visionary either. Disappointing.
Leto defended Caladan like a loyal guard dog, but he did not see the larger perspective. Jaxson fumed at how the man had rebuffed his offer, at least for the time being, but that might change. He would give it time. In certain things, the rebel leader could be patient.
Could Leto Atreides really be so weak and afraid? Or would he see the great things he could accomplish if he made the right decision, one that would go down in galactic history and help change the course of civilization?
Pacing the open deck in his frigate, Jaxson glanced at the Ixian chronometer and frowned once more. His ship was a private customized vessel, obtained through CHOAM channels, with an inert exterior hull that turned the ship into a mere scan shadow, a ghostlike image that could easily go unnoticed. He had used his mother’s techniques to book secret passage from the Spacing Guild by leveraging his CHOAM connections.
Although Malina Aru had disowned him in the Landsraad Hall, and his brother and sister were publicly outraged by his troublesome violence, Jaxson knew they understood the worth of what he was doing, even though they couldn’t admit it. He did not believe his mother had entirely ostracized him. Since he was an outlaw, though, he stayed away from her.
For now.
Below, Caladan seemed such a perfect world, so different from seismically active Tupile. He had smelled the fresh ocean air down there, heard the rush of waves, the cries of seabirds. He’d stood in the majestic primeval wilderness absorbing the power of nature and burgeoning life. Caladan had enormous prospects, just like so many planets that were oppressed by the Corrinos. Under a new Noble Commonwealth, they would be a million independent economies, a million trading partners rather than consolidated under one autocratic and bloated despot, strangled by tariffs and surtaxes.
He looked through the plaz viewing window, and his impatience began to transition to anger. Where was that damned cargo shuttle?
Jaxson wished he could have spent more days on Caladan strolling through the rustic capital city, or exploring the seas and forests. This planet reminded him of pleasant times on Otorio with his father, before Shaddam had violated the place, destroying the sacred Aru olive grove and paving over it.…
Eventually, Jaxson would meet with Leto Atreides again and make his case one more time, now that the Duke had been able to ponder the possibilities. Jaxson had seen something in Leto’s eyes, sensed that there was still a chance to make the man see reason and opportunity. Perhaps his non-reply could be turned into a positive response. Why would Duke Leto not plan for a better future than the stagnation of the Imperium? Jaxson would not give up hope.
Finally, he saw an orange streak of afterburners like a fingernail scratch against the edge of the atmosphere. The engines of the cargo shuttle had been invisible in the cloudy skies, but now Jaxson knew where to look.
Up front, his pilot’s voice was gruff. “Target ship scheduled to dock within fifteen minutes, sir. They report a diminished crew and request our assistance in moving the cargo.”
“Whatever is necessary to achieve the final result,” Jaxson said. Four loyal converts were with him on board, security guards who were also hatchet men, fixers, observers. They were perfectly capable of lifting heavy packages. “We do what we must,” he muttered.
After the other ship matched orbital velocity with Jaxson’s frigate, the hulls maneuvered together. The second craft had similar camouflage coating, which had also been provided by his own connections. The work of the Noble Commonwealth was intertwined—even his mother knew that. She would approve of what he was doing here on Caladan, as would his father, if he were still alive.
The hatches locked together, and the seals engaged. Jaxson folded his arms over his roughspun blue shirt, which he had bought on Caladan during his last trip. He looked like a local.
His companions joined him at the hatch, ready to begin transferring the cargo into his private hold. The bulkhead door opened, and Jaxson faced the small-statured Tleilaxu man in gray robes. Chaen Marek looked disheveled and bruised, his expression erratic.
Jaxson could not contain his surprise. “Marek! You never come personally to make a mere delivery. Is it safe to leave your operations on Caladan?”
“My compound was just wiped out,” the Tleilaxu said as he boarded the stealth frigate. “Duke Leto’s strike on our barra fields was swifter and more destructive than I anticipated. I gave him severe warnings to leave my business alone, and I thought he would heed the threat. You said you considered him a reasonable man!” Marek’s thin voice dripped with accusation.
Jaxson didn’t like the other man’s tone. He had already received some reports, but he assumed they were exaggerated. Now he shook his head. “I listened to his speech to the public. You provoked him by planting real bombs that killed innocent townspeople and nearly injured his son. Your people were willing to create a lasgun-shield explosion. That goes against all civilized rules. How did you expect him to react?”
“Imperial rules,” the Tleilaxu muttered bitterly. “As you yourself would point out.”
“Human rules,” Jaxson said. “It was uncalled for.” He lowered his voice. “At least I only used inactive bombs as a threat against Leto.”
The Tleilaxu snapped his head back in disbelief. “‘Against all civilized rules’? After you obliterated the entire museum city on Otorio?”
“I made my point, and I did not break any rules of the Great Convention.” Jaxson raised his eyebrows, looking at the little Tleilaxu man. “You are a mess.”
In a huff, Marek said, “I barely made it out alive. Luckily, we had prepared for takeoff, and had a full cargo of ailar, but our main operations are destroyed, all the barra fields ruined. It is a great setback.” His black, close-set eyes flickered back and forth. “Why are you not more upset?”