Princess of Dune, page 42
Chani closed her eyes for a moment, thought of Khouro’s handsome face, before the Tleilaxu mangled it, and she whispered, “Bless the Maker and His water. Bless the coming and going of Him. May His passage cleanse the world. May He keep the world for His people.”
Inside the aircraft, the Fremen whispered in awe, uttered their own prayers. Some even cheered.
“This was a battle for Dune itself,” Chani said. “It is fitting that Shai-Hulud helped us win it.”
The Fremen pilots flew the unmarked ships into the storm and headed home.
Sometimes there is too much excitement, and too much blood.
—KASEK, minstrel to the court of Crown Prince Raphael Corrino
Irulan heard the clamor of alarms in the palace, and outside came the zinging, percussive noises of explosions, along with weapons fire and the hum of distant but powerful shields.
Though they still didn’t know what had occurred, the Liberation Fleet finally retaliated, and a fierce battle erupted in the skies over the Imperial Palace and up in orbit. To the north, Imperial warships, including the Sardaukar vessels her father had sent from Arrakis, faced off against the rebel forces, who still didn’t exactly know what was happening.
Less than half an hour ago when she and Moko Zenha stood on the wedding dais and the ceremony reached its high point with the two of them clasping hands, the palace’s powerful jammer net had blinded the rebel ships. She knew that across the insurrection fleet, the screens went blank, so they did not see what was happening in the throne room.
While making her urgent plans, Irulan had known this would buy her only a few minutes, but the commanders of the Imperial military fleet mobilized as soon as the jammers activated. They swept in and opened fire on Zenha’s ships, attacking in the momentary confusion before the rebels knew their Commander-General had met a horrible death in front of the wedding crowd.
Now, however, Irulan could hear the air battle as she and her concubine made their way to shelter. She had no doubt that the competent officers serving in the Liberation Fleet would not give up easily. The clash in the skies was fierce, and she knew the space battle up in orbit was ferocious as well. She had to get to shelter.
As Sardaukar guards tried to keep the Imperial family and other nobles safe in the frantic crowds, Irulan spotted Wensicia. Her sister’s face was flushed, but determined. Irulan now nodded to her. “Time to finish this, and I need your help. Send a priority communication and demand the immediate surrender of all ships in the mutinous fleet. If they refuse, then identify them—and use your self-destruct command.”
Wensicia smiled, wrapped up in her new role. “With great pleasure, dear sister.” In her crimson gown, she rushed off, looking like a predator.
The Sardaukar tried to control the milling crowd, but the booming violence in the sky increased the panic. Alarms continued to resound through the palace, and Aron whisked Irulan out of the throne room. “The armored catacombs are the safest place for you, Highness.”
She agreed, hurrying after him, but then one of the palace guards ran toward her with Chamberlain Ridondo in tow. “Princess, no one can find Chalice!”
Irulan felt a wash of alarm, recalling that she had seen her flighty sister dash away as the uproar rose. The Sardaukar and the guards had been busy fighting Zenha’s soldiers, and somehow Chalice had slipped away in the pandemonium.
Ridondo looked sickened. “I will help organize the search! Your sister is not well, and the medications make her unstable. I fear she will come to harm!”
Irulan looked at Aron. His neat garments were stained with blood, but he seemed ready to do anything she asked. She came to a decision. “You and I need to help find her.”
The chamberlain and the palace guard raised their voices in disagreement. Ridondo said, “No, we must keep you safe, Highness! Wait in the reinforced catacombs while the search is conducted.”
“We will find her,” the guard insisted. “Princess Chalice is probably just lost in the crowds.”
But Irulan shook her head. “I know the places my sister likes to go. She is likely to run somewhere familiar to her. I know this palace as well as anyone, and I know her habits better than you do.”
Seeing her determination, Aron stepped closer and addressed the chamberlain. “By command of the Princess Royal, I guard her with my life, so I go with her.” He glanced at the blood on his garment. “I won’t let anything happen to her while we search.”
Through the shielded windows along the perimeter, Irulan saw the sky light up with weapons fire and explosions. Beyond the city, wrecked vessels crashed to the ground, erupting in fireballs. She heard a whistling roar overhead as a dying cruiser smashed into a tall ministry building.
Flinching, Ridondo pointed down the hall. “Your sister was seen on this level, darting into a preparation room, but she is gone now. Two servants saw her huddled in a corner, sobbing and praying, but when they tried to help her, she ran away.”
Irulan considered for a moment. “She must have gone somewhere she thinks she’s safe. When Chalice was eight or nine, she had nooks and crannies around the palace where she liked to hide.” Thinking of several possibilities, she dispatched the chamberlain and servants to check them, while she and Aron raced to other locations, hoping to locate the young woman before she came to harm.
Palace guards and Sardaukar flashed by, pulling defenses together, trying to organize the evacuation. An Imperial captain gave Irulan a rushed summary of the space battle in orbit, adding to the visible aerial combat taking place in the skies overhead.
Aron was deeply concerned. “My priority is your well-being, Irulan.” He used her given name, which emphasized his seriousness. “Let me take you to the underground shelters. We cannot find your sister in time.”
Irulan looked at a stairway that led to the tiered highest levels of the palace, the observation decks and rooftop gardens. “Chalice had hiding places up there, one in a shelter by a ceremonial flag, and another in the open among the parapets.”
“It’s unwise for her to be up there, with a battle taking place overhead,” he said. “And I shouldn’t risk you either.”
Irulan tugged her white protective gloves higher up her forearms. “She isn’t thinking rationally, and in her panic she might even stumble off a parapet. Follow me.” Aron offered to go search by himself, but she was adamant. “Chalice is my sister! I have to do everything I can to help her!”
Running as fast as she could manage in her ornate gown and fine shoes, she climbed stairs, past observation galleries, and finally emerged on the top level, which was surrounded by carved parapets inset with rare stones.
There, palace guards were manning defensive positions, operating shield projectors and artillery, blasting and deflecting debris that fell from damaged war vessels. Smoking hulks tumbled out of the sky, engines whining, but only minor pieces of debris made it through the safety net.
When Irulan and Aron emerged onto the rooftop, a tall officer waved them back down into the building, his face flushed with alarm. “Highness, it is not safe up here! You should be in a shelter. I’ll summon the Sardaukar to escort you!”
“Princess Chalice has fled, and we must find her!” Irulan looked around. “Have you seen her?”
He shook his head. “No, Highness. But you must—”
Aron stood between them, blocking any move by the agitated guard.
“She used to come up here as a child.” Irulan looked around. “I need to check everywhere.”
The officer relented and barked into his comm, passing along the news, then turned back to her. “I can spare a few men to spread out in the search.”
To the north, the battle was drawing closer. A squadron of Sardaukar-led cruisers formed a defensive line in the air, keeping the dreadnought flagship and rebel battleships away from the palace. One of the Imperial corvettes was hit, engines erupting into flames, and it spun out of control, crashing just outside the Palace District.
Transfixed, Irulan watched a squadron of small Imperial fighters race into the battle to assist the Sardaukar ships. They closed in on the flagship dreadnought. Even with Zenha now dead, his main vessel was the most powerful enemy warship. The knot of airborne rebel fighters was being forced back, while the rooftop defenders manned their guns and shield projectors, continuing to deflect fallout from the raging battle in the skies.
Running, Irulan led Aron along a walkway on the edge of the parapet. At the end of the exposed path stood a stone obelisk flying a small ceremonial flag, marking the spot where a young Corrino prince had fallen to his death centuries ago. There was no breeze, even with the explosions and smoke in the air, and the banner hung limply.
Ducking her head, Irulan worked her way around the monument, then slipped under a platform that was used for Corrino family ceremonies. She crouched as she entered the dimly lit interior, and her eyes took a moment to adjust. She knew this place.
Aron gripped Irulan’s shoulder and pointed. “There she is! Back in the corner.”
Even in her ornate crimson dress, Chalice had crammed herself into the confines of an alcove, trying to hide under the ceremonial platform. Crouching under the low ceiling, Irulan moved forward.
Her sister was irrational with panic. The sedatives had worn off, making her sharp and reactionary. Heavy doses of stimulants and mood-altering drugs had left her paranoid. Now, like a frightened animal, Chalice darted to one side, tearing the side of her gown, squirming and thrashing in a desperate attempt to get away.
But Aron moved faster. He grabbed Chalice’s arm, holding tight as she tried to pull herself free. “Forgive me, Princess.” He refused to let go.
Irulan rushed to her sister. “We’ve been worried about you, Chalice! Come with us to safety.”
As if to emphasize the danger, a loud explosion erupted in the sky, and they heard the rumble of another crashing vessel.
“Don’t come near me!” Chalice shrieked, looking at her sister in horror. “You’re a killer! You murdered your own husband! I saw it.”
Irulan backed away to give her space, but Aron did not relinquish his grip. Though Chalice struggled, he kept her from scratching his face as he forcibly removed her from the alcove, taking her outside into the sunlight.
Seeing blood spattered on Aron’s fine shirt and jacket, Chalice screamed again.
Two palace guards came running, part of the search. Irulan waved them closer.
Just then, she heard a horrendous shuddering screech and the percussive zings and thumps of artillery fire. In the sky, Sardaukar ships and Imperial forces pressed hard against the rebel ships. Under a concentrated barrage, some of the enemy vessels were hit, but the mutinous flagship and a powerful escort of large cruisers backed away, all of them shifting course and accelerating up toward orbit.
But Irulan’s attention was wrenched back to the high, exposed rooftop as a smoldering chunk of debris whistled down through the sky, trailing a ribbon of black smoke. It plowed through a gap in the defensive net and smashed like a meteor onto the palace roof, sending a tremor through the deck.
* * *
IN THE DISTANT Thalim system, the Guild’s tremendous show of force easily drove the Tleilaxu into submission. Starguide Serello had not needed to use the Guild interdiction fleet or his numerous mercenary warships to bombard the planet, though he could have done so if he’d wanted. The drastic threat of quarantining the entire star system, cutting off the Bene Tleilax from all space travel, commerce, and business interactions with the Imperium, had been enough to secure immediate concessions.
Serello watched Master Giblii and the entire Tleilaxu council surrender while scrambling to control the damage. The Starguide and the other Guildsmen in the large fleet let them squirm for more than a day.
The victory was swift enough that no one outside the star system even needed to know the conflict had occurred at all. After only a slight delay, the Guild reopened the blocked spacing routes again. The Tleilaxu paid handsomely, which satisfied the Guild. Peace was reestablished.
Now, except for two Heighliners to remain in orbit over Tleilax, his entire interdiction force could fulfill another obligation, following long-standing treaties that ensured the stability of the Imperium. It was a duty he had to perform.
Standing on the Navigator deck he communicated with the other Heighliners, all hundred ships in this operation. “It is time for a show of force again,” he said. “Our next destination is Kaitain.”
He looked out at the planet below and the stars that extended in all directions. All the Navigators in the interdiction force silently conferred, then obeyed the Starguide’s instructions.
The Holtzman engines powered up. The Navigators inhaled their spice, used prescience to gaze into countless possible paths. Then almost all of the gigantic vessels folded space in a simultaneous operation.
And then reappeared near the Imperial capital world.
A space battle was already taking place in orbit over Kaitain, and scan viewers reported evidence of an aerial conflict in the vicinity of the Palace District as well. In high orbit, Imperial ships of similar designs fired on one another, equally matched—some of them loyal to the Padishah Emperor, and some who followed the cause of Commander-General Zenha.
The unexpected arrival of so many Guild Heighliners triggered a flurry of panicked transmissions. Starguide Serello listened for a moment, then announced to all the ships in orbit that the Spacing Guild stood with Kaitain and Emperor Shaddam IV.
Ninety-eight Heighliners alone should have been enough to make the rebels stand down and surrender, but Serello saw another squadron rising up from the capital city below, a dreadnought and several cruisers moving at full acceleration. The Imperial battleships sent out warning signals, threatening the Heighliners.
The Starguide quickly realized that he needed to increase this show of force, so he instructed the Heighliners to unleash their own Guild warships. Serello watched the stream of new armored vessels drop out of the cavernous holds.
“You will all surrender,” he announced.
* * *
INSIDE THE IMPERIAL War Room, Wensicia felt alert and ready to do what she needed to do. The tension in the air invigorated her, and she also felt a steely satisfaction with what Irulan had done, even if it had wasted a man who would have been a valuable military resource.
She knew the panic in the palace itself, could see battlefield reports from the skies overhead as well as the clash in orbit. She saw how to control the outcome of the conflict. She drew a breath and calmed herself, focusing her thoughts. Wensicia had prepared for this. No one had expected much from the third daughter of Emperor Shaddam, but she would prove them wrong. Again.
She glanced at the Sardaukar officer who had accompanied her into the War Room. “Kefka Rumico, prepare to send the self-destruct override to the rebel ships, just as we did before. We have the bridge command controls—including their flagship. Let’s target the dreadnought first.” Her voice hardened. “They will all fall unless they submit.”
Rumico worked the comms to activate the command.
Wensicia stepped into the projection zone, terrible in her wrath as she made her announcement over the military channels. “To all rebel officers, this is Wensicia, Princess of House Corrino. The leader of your mutiny, Moko Zenha, is dead, and members of his honor guard have been executed when they tried to kill the Princess Royal. Your ships are outnumbered and outgunned. I demand your immediate surrender, or your ships will self-destruct.” She paused just a moment. “You already know I can do it.”
She received an overlapping flurry of curses, insults, and defiance, as she had expected, so she spoke again. “I have the self-destruct code for each of your ships. I address whoever remains in command of this rebellion, if you even have a leader now.” She sneered. “Tell your ship captains to stand down and cease fire immediately.”
Wensicia waited, tracking the movement of the ships as they followed the flagship and cruisers into the sky and heading toward orbit.
Suddenly, she was astonished to see a large force of Guild Heighliners arrive, nearly a hundred unexpected reinforcements. Their Starguide broadcast his own demand for surrender, reaffirming the Guild’s allegiance to House Corrino.
She felt a surge of hope, but tried to keep the smugness from her face.
Now the screen flickered and a harried-looking officer appeared, his face drawn. “I am LeftMajor Astop, second-in-command, named by Commander-General Zenha. I now make the decisions for this fleet … and we will fight until the end. Our cause is just, so we will destroy the corrupt Imperial military. We will make House Corrino reel.”
Wensicia folded her arms over her chest. “Then you will all die.”
Astop raised his chin in stubborn defiance. “But we will make our point.”
The Sardaukar officer issued a crisp report. “Your Highness, nineteen rebel ships have surrendered. They’ve drawn down and stopped firing.”
“LeftMajor Astop, I swear I will send the destruct override signal to your flagship. Once triggered, you can do nothing to avert the chain reaction.” Her voice was hard as steel. “This is your final warning.”
On the screen, she watched the dreadnought and its accompanying cruisers in high orbit as they altered course and charged toward the cluster of Heighliners. Did they expect to simply book passage and fly away?
She realized that Astop would never concede. On the comm screen, he turned toward her. “There is nothing more to say, Princess Wensicia. If an objective history of us is ever written, all will know that the Corrinos were the real traitors.”
The screen winked off, and Wensicia paused a moment, then nodded to Rumico. “Send the destruct signal.”
* * *
ON THE PALACE rooftop, Irulan pulled Chalice back after the smoldering chunk of debris hit the parapet, and they fell against the stone wall after the explosion. Smoke filled the air, and the floor beneath them continued to shudder. Her sister sobbed.
