Princess of Dune, page 13
The Duke Bashar snapped his riding crop back and forth as he stepped up to the junior officer. Zenha stared straight ahead, showing no fear of the flickering whip. The crop’s tip stopped right in front of his face, but Zenha did not flinch. It was clearly some sort of juvenile test or intimidation.
Gorambi responded with a smirk, and lowered the crop. “You came here in disgrace a month ago, Leftenant, and I accepted your assignment only as a personal favor to my close friend, the Padishah Emperor. But you’ve proved yourself to be surprisingly capable in your position. Saves me a lot of work here, when I am already overwhelmed with responsibilities.” His face was florid.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’ve decided to give you a battlefield promotion, Leftenant. How do you feel about that?”
Zenha knew the Duke Bashar did not possess a shred of generosity. “That depends, sir.”
“Upon what?” Perturbed at the reply, Gorambi tapped the riding crop on his own open palm. “You should be pleased. You fell a long way after the Otak disaster, and you have a long way to climb back up!”
Zenha found the courage to smirk a little. “If it pleases you, then I am pleased, sir. But a battlefield promotion? What battle? I have been engaged entirely in administrative duties since my arrival here at Chado.”
The Duke Bashar strutted about. “Well, I consider it battle enough for me to send my flagship on an important mission, and the two officers ahead of you have fallen mysteriously ill, which moves you up to First Officer on my crew.”
Zenha narrowed his gaze in surprise. “LeftMajor Astop and Staff Captain Pilwu? Both are ill?” He liked the two officers, both of whom were willing to show their little signs of disrespect, so he felt a solidarity with them. In private, the pair had whispered about how the noble fool was crushing the morale of the force, making him wonder now if their sicknesses might be convenient and feigned. What did they know about this mission that he didn’t?
“No doubt some plague they picked up from a local whore,” Gorambi said dismissively. “They are easily replaced. You can fill their role—First Officer Zenha.”
Zenha did not feel good about this, but he pressed the opportunity. “A clarification, sir. Am I to be Acting First Officer, or the actual First Officer, from now on?”
The Duke Bashar froze, and his riding crop stirred. Anger flushed his florid face an even deeper red, and then he burst out laughing. “I’ve heard you are an outspoken one, Zenha! Your ambition continues to get you in trouble. Asking for the hand of Princess Irulan in marriage!” He chuckled again.
Zenha remained icily calm. “About that rank, sir? Acting First Officer, or First Officer as a permanent rank? Since it is a … battlefield promotion.”
“Which would you prefer?”
“I hold no animosity toward my fellow officers, but I can do a good job as First Officer.” He drew in a breath. “As you say, I have a long way to climb back up to my former rank.”
“Very well, I’ll make it permanent, then.” The close-set eyes gleamed in folds of fat on his cheeks. “Until I change my mind. I can always demote you later.”
Through the insulated clearplaz viewing windows, Zenha heard the roar of an engine and turned to see a large passenger liner rise up from the industrial spaceport and lumber into the sky.
The Duke Bashar made an impatient sound. “Well, let’s be off, Leftenant. Or should I say, First Officer?” He pointed to documents on his desk. “These are your briefing materials—take them. My flagship awaits! We will use my private lift and ground transport.”
With riding crop in hand, as if he meant to beat anyone he encountered, the nobleman led the way.
* * *
ONCE THEY BOARDED the flagship, Zenha marched straight to the command bridge even before an aide scuttled up to deliver his new rank insignia. Gorambi dithered and moved more slowly, but the First Officer was required to inspect the command crew and join them for a basic briefing before their imminent departure on the field mission. Zenha hadn’t even had a chance to review the orders himself yet.
Battlefield promotion … He decided to do something with this opportunity, no matter that it came from a noble buffoon who had little interest or experience in running the fleet.
Since his reassignment, Zenha had already served on three practice missions for Gorambi. Despite the buildup about this particular field mission, he guessed it would just be another training flight, something the bored Duke Bashar considered a waste of time. Or might they be called to put down another rebellion? To perform general peacekeeping duties?
Gorambi’s task force—a flagship dreadnought, two cruisers, a score of fighter craft, and seven frigates—left the Chado spaceport and rendezvoused with the waiting Heighliner. The separate ship pilots remained in direct communication, coordinating their movements as they entered the maw of the huge transport craft, which would deliver the battle group to their destination. From the flagship bridge, Zenha scanned the military formation inside the Heighliner hold, anchored at mooring buoys, along with numerous other vessels.
Still waiting for their actual commanding officer to arrive, First Officer Zenha scanned his bridge crew. Several crew members acknowledged his arrival, some with open smiles of relief. He nodded to reassure them. The bridge crew rattled off a series of reports, and he saw that everything was in order, though he still didn’t know what the mission was.
Finally, the Duke Bashar arrived and looked around. Satisfied that his new First Officer had all operations firmly under control, he took his seat in the command chair as if it were a throne. Zenha stood at his side, alert.
A civilian he did not know was preoccupied at a bank of recently installed instruments, with temporary connections and linkages still showing. The setup included five projection screens, along with digital and analog meters and control panels. Instead of a military uniform, the stranger wore a bright smock and an unusual cap, both with astronomical designs. He was talking to two men and a woman, who helped him set up the equipment. None of them paid attention to the general operations on the bridge.
Gorambi saw his interest and was proud to explain. “That’s Tanak Riyyu, the Emperor’s top astrophysicist, an expert in esoteric celestial theory. You’ve heard of him, of course?”
“I’m afraid not.”
The Duke Bashar was clearly disappointed. “Well, I will introduce you later. Best not to bother him when he’s focused on mission preparations. The Emperor placed him under my care for a special scientific undertaking, and his team needs to have their instruments prepared by the time we reach the flare stars. The Guild ship has been diverted for this very purpose, to drop us off.”
Before Zenha could ask for more details, a pair of men stepped onto the bridge, both looking cowed and uneasy. He was surprised to recognize the supposedly ill officers, Astop and Pilwu, the former tall and awkward, the latter a small dark-skinned man. Appearing defeated, they acknowledged Zenha and went to take up separate stations on the bridge.
He turned to Gorambi, who sat smugly in the command chair. “I thought they were both on medical leave, sir?”
“They were only sick in their imaginations, so I ordered them to report for duty—as your subordinates.” He showed a little smirk. “As I said, your new rank is now permanent.”
Zenha did not feel particularly victorious and intended to discuss the matter privately with both men at his first opportunity. He wanted to know what was really going on.
* * *
UNDER A DIRECT dispensation from Emperor Shaddam IV, the Guild redirected the Heighliner to transport Gorambi’s task force from the Chado system to a cluster of flare stars that constantly dimmed and brightened. The unstable stars made the system uninhabitable, though Zenha found the astronomical anomaly intriguing.
He was surprised the Emperor would dispatch such a research mission, since Shaddam showed little interest in pure science. Duke Bashar Gorambi was proud of his assignment, which seemed showy enough to meet his own expectations of grandeur. As with the Otak operation, however, Zenha felt unprepared and poorly briefed for the situation. At least this time he would not be facing an army of fanatics in control of forbidden atomics. He tried to get up to speed as quickly as possible.
Gorambi’s full task force, each frigate equipped with newly installed analytical equipment and staffed with a technical assistant, departed from the Heighliner in the vicinity of the throbbing stars, closely packed furnaces surrounded by a debris cloud of metal-rich rocks blistered by the chaotic surges of solar flares.
“We have planned this research trip for a quiescent time,” said Riyyu, the eccentric astronomer, addressing a point somewhere in the air between Zenha and Gorambi. “Still, the patterns are poorly understood. One star could release a surge of neutrinos and trigger an unexpected flare. From remote observations, we know that this cluster can erupt daily … or remain calm for months. We need to understand more about this.”
He nodded, as did his assistants. Then with extreme intensity, they turned back to the instruments. A Mentat had also been assigned to the astronomer on board the flagship.
“Yes, we need to understand more about this,” the Duke Bashar repeated.
Zenha remained puzzled. “Why? What is to be gained here to benefit the Imperium?”
Tanak Riyyu turned in a full circle, looking at the entire bridge, as he considered an answer. “I assumed it was obvious. Look at all the planets and asteroids in complex orbits. Frequent flares have cooked the rubble down to valuable heavy metals. Once we understand the flare patterns, as well as the precise orbits and compositions of these celestial bodies, the Imperium could reap great profits by deploying mining operations at an appropriate lull to extract enormous wealth, to be shipped away before the next flare storm.” The astronomer tapped a finger on his lips. “And there is the pure science, of course.”
“And the pure science,” Zenha agreed.
The angry stars roiled in front of the task force ships. Although Riyyu and his team found them hypnotic and fascinating, Zenha now thought they seemed ominous.
“We are left here alone to do research for the time being. The next Heighliner comes to retrieve us in three days.” Gorambi slouched back in his command seat. “We may as well enjoy our relaxation time.”
Riyyu seemed very excited. “It is even more fascinating now that we are here.” He looked at his instruments rather than the stellar glare through the windowport. “I need the seven frigates deployed to strategic positions around the core stars. We must have accurate readings.” He added with a grateful nod to the Duke Bashar, “All the equipment was installed in these ships at the Chado spaceport, thanks to you, sir.”
The noble officer gave a pleased but dismissive wave. “The Emperor was explicit that I must do everything to get you the data you need.” With a grunt of effort, he lifted himself out of the command chair. “First Officer Zenha, I leave you to oversee the operations. I shall be in my stateroom working on important correspondence.”
After the rotund commander left, Zenha quickly reviewed the briefings and the mission parameters. Fortunately, the lower-ranking officers had each been given a specific protocol for their part of the operations, so they were able to comply with the research program, while Zenha tried to grasp the overall mission.
The flagship dreadnought hung near one of the largest planet-size rocks, while the seven frigates moved on separate paths, rising above or dropping below the orbital plane, where their sensor readings would not be obstructed by the numerous cratered planetoids.
The flare stars oscillated brighter and dimmer as Zenha studied them. Riyyu and his assistants aboard the flagship seemed pleased with their initial data. The science adviser on each of the scout frigates also reported continued success. In his role as First Officer, he felt in control, glad that the operation was running smoothly, although he did feel alone in this distant uninhabited system, with no Heighliner due to arrive for days.
Following orders, the frigate commanders headed out into open space above the cauldron of unstable stars. They spread out in their preassigned paths, deploying a rugged sensor network installed in their ships. None of the captains particularly knew how to use the network, but Riyyu’s teams took control and did not ask for assistance.
From the flagship’s bridge, Zenha monitored the overall operation, but pressed his lips together, again reminded of the lack of preparation and the careless command attitude. It was as if they were all doing their duties blindfolded.
When the Duke Bashar returned after six hours, it was clear that the officer felt this was the most glorious mission ever and he was already taking credit in his own mind. The nobleman had changed out of his formal uniform and now wore even gaudier clothes that prominently showed the crest of House Gorambi. He even carried his silly riding crop.
In a booming voice, the Duke Bashar demanded a report from his First Officer. Zenha provided a crisp, efficient summary and read from it, but the commander’s eyes glazed over and he only pretended to listen. Excited, Tanak Riyyu chattered details about the importance of the sensor mapping, the uniqueness of the flare-star cluster. Although he smiled and nodded, Gorambi seemed uninterested in the astrophysicist.
The dreadnought hung in the shadow of the large planetoid, while the seven frigates continued their dispersed work under the glare of the stars. “The perspective is perfect,” said Riyyu, and his assistants nodded. “The data array will soon be in place, and we can acquire our information. We are performing an invaluable service for the Imperium.”
Abruptly, the sensor readings flashed and flared, and a rush of data scrolled up on the readouts. From the buzz of excitement and dismay, Zenha immediately demanded to know what was wrong. “Neutrino burst from the core of one of the stars,” Riyyu said.
His female assistant barked out, “A precursor. It will trigger sympathetic flares.”
Gorambi leaned forward in the command chair, showing no alarm. “Interesting, is it not?”
The astronomer looked unsettled. “A flare storm will be powerful enough to burn out our sensor systems, destroy any primary circuitry! No shielding will be sufficient!”
Zenha immediately felt cold. “And what does that mean for the frigates? All the people aboard? They don’t have shielding for that kind of storm.” He ran numbers in his mind. Two to three hundred crew on each vessel, seven frigates.…
Riyyu blinked at him. “Was I not clear? All electronic systems will fail, including comms, radiation shielding, and life support.”
“Well, the Heighliner will be back in two and a half days to retrieve us,” said Gorambi. “Will that be soon enough?”
Zenha spun to him, appalled, then he did what needed to be done. He stepped in front of the command chair, snapping orders to the bridge crew. “Take the flagship full into the shadow of the planetoid. Once those flares start, it will shield us from the burst of high-energy particles.”
At their stations, the bridge crew jumped into action, operating the controls. He could already feel the big vessel begin to move. The helmsman and the comm officer looked to him, waiting for further instructions.
The next step was obvious. Zenha barked out, “Contact all seven frigates and have them withdraw immediately. Tell them to find any large asteroid or planetoid they can hide behind. Use those rocks for shielding before the first wave hits.” He paused, then shouted, “Now!”
On the main screen, he saw the flare stars roiling, grumbling, brightening.
In the command chair behind him, the Duke Bashar growled, “We are the Imperial military. We do not hide. They must continue their mission.”
Zenha whirled. “Sir, you heard the astronomer! The frigates will be roasted once those flares erupt. Eighteen hundred crew, and the scientists!”
“The Emperor himself insisted that we obtain these readings, and he gave us the equipment to do so,” Gorambi said. Without rising from his command seat, he waved a manicured hand. “Carry on with the mission as planned.”
Several bridge crew members froze, but Zenha didn’t hesitate to defy the nobleman. “Countermand that order. Instruct all frigates to withdraw immediately! Lives depend on it.” He could only think about the troop carriers he had left behind on Otak, thousands of soldiers with no forewarning and no chance. He wouldn’t let it happen again.
“Acknowledged, First Officer.” The comm officer began shouting into the voice pickup.
“But … we must collect data until the last minute!” Astronomer Riyyu cried.
Gorambi was on his feet. “How dare you, First Officer! I do not tolerate insubordination.”
Zenha had reached the breaking point. “And I will not let my soldiers be massacred through your gross incompetence.”
On the screens all seven frigate captains acknowledged and began to race back into the planetary belt and shelter in the shadow of asteroids.
“First Officer Zenha, you are relieved of command!” Gorambi said. “I knew you would show your cowardice if given the chance. LeftMajor Astop, take over Zenha’s position. Give the order.”
But Astop remained at his station and stubbornly refused to move. Gorambi turned red. “Very well, Staff Captain Pilwu, I restore you to position of First Officer. Finish this mission for the glory of the Emperor. We must not disappoint him.”
Pilwu looked directly at Zenha and shook his head. “No, Duke Bashar, I cannot do that. Lives are clearly at stake.”
Shaking but relieved, Zenha concentrated on the immediate emergency, ignoring the stuffed shirt behind him. He could be court-martialed later, once everyone survived. Calm but determined, he shouted another round of orders, helping to locate likely sheltered spots for the frigates. By now, the flagship was deep in the shadow of the huge planetoid.
