The beast balked and thrashed, but Stilgar persisted, inflicting pain until at last it turned its bulk and began to retreat. The cracked s.h.i.+eld Wall towered ahead, where only a narrow slot allowed access to the safe desert beyond. He drove the creature to greater speed, and it plunged forward along its swath of destruction as if it sensed the arid dunes beyond. Reddish-brown cliffs towered on either side of him, and Stilgar held on. If the worm thrashed at the wrong instant, the rider would be thrown off or smashed against the rock.

The creature shot through the broken qanat barrier, flinching as it squirmed over the line of moist sand. Looking down, Stilgar saw that the qanat had been smashed, and the water it contained had seeped out into the desert. From this height, he could not tell if this particular worm, or something else, had initially destroyed the ca.n.a.l barriers.

Exhausted after the destruction it had caused, the worm plunged toward the arid basin. Stilgar prepared for a dangerous dismount. Thank Shai-Hulud, he had done it many times before-and down he slid, skillfully landing on his feet on the sand before tucking his knees, and rolling.

After the worm had charged off into the distance, fleeing the inhabited zone, Stilgar got to his feet again and brushed sand from his stillsuit. Trudging back toward the city, he realized that his ordeal had been exhilarating in another way: Of all the teeming millions in Arrakeen, only a handful knew how to ride a wild worm.

After too long, Stilgar again experienced the thrill of being a true Fremen.

We are taught that patience is a virtue, but I have come to realize that it is also a weakness. More often than not, a thing must be done now.

-BRONSO OF IX

The small s.h.i.+p arrived on Wallach IX carrying workers, visitors, and four Sisters wearing traditional black robes and uniforms, designating low to mid rank. These four had no particular importance; their travel doc.u.ments were in order, and they attracted no attention. But they were not what they appeared to be.

Also among the pa.s.sengers, segregated from the Sisters, were three men who had been a.s.signed to the Mother School as temporary gardeners. Bene Gesserit acolytes usually tended the courtyards and gardens, but outsiders were brought in for specialized activities.

After exiting, the four Sisters casually wandered among the crowd at the s.p.a.ceport near the school complex. The trio of quiet gardeners waited their turn, leaving the s.h.i.+p last, moving to the cargo-claim area where they picked up their tools. Giving no sign that they recognized each other, they joined up with the four women.

Bronso had waited a great many years for this, and now he would wait no longer. The pieces had finally fallen into place.

Shortly after the death of his father, Bronso had pet.i.tioned for the return of his comatose mother from the Sisterhood's medical advisers, and was flatly turned down. Later, when Tessia Vernius emerged from her years of unconsciousness and managed to smuggle a message to him, he had learned the truth. As Earl Vernius of Ix, Bronso again asked for her release ... and was ignored. He then filed a complaint with the Landsraad, but the n.o.bles would take no direct action to free Tessia, claiming that she was a grown woman and a Sister of the order herself. Bronso hadn't had the wealth, influence, or military might to take any action. When Jessica gave him her report seven years ago, she had told him little that he hadn't already known. he had learned the truth. As Earl Vernius of Ix, Bronso again asked for her release ... and was ignored. He then filed a complaint with the Landsraad, but the n.o.bles would take no direct action to free Tessia, claiming that she was a grown woman and a Sister of the order herself. Bronso hadn't had the wealth, influence, or military might to take any action. When Jessica gave him her report seven years ago, she had told him little that he hadn't already known.

All the while he had never stopped thinking of his trapped mother, never stopped searching for a way to get her out of the clutches of the Bene Gesserit.

Now, after being on the run for years, he had managed to slip a few Face Dancer infiltrators onto Wallach IX, if only briefly, and his spies had discovered the information he needed to know, where his mother was, and the security arrangements surrounding her.

All that remained was to implement a plan. The four Sisters and the other two men with him were Face Dancers. His His Face Dancers. Face Dancers.

As the visitors walked to the garden area near the outbuilding where Bronso knew Tessia was being held, one of the "Sisters" signaled the three gardeners. "Bring your tools and prepare for a hard day's work. You have only a little time to complete your job."

Bronso and the other two men followed meekly, behaving exactly the way the Bene Gesserits expected them to.

The Mother School gardens were a parade of spectacular colors, with geometrically laid out shrubberies at odds with wild and unruly botanical displays. Mother Superior Harishka, so it was said, had a penchant for exotic flora harvested from other planets. Such unique plants required a great deal of maintenance and specialized care, which could be provided only by offworld experts.

Bronso and his incognito crew had come ostensibly to replant a failed botanical area where the rugged native plants from Grand Hain had all died and needed to be replaced with something else. Dump boxes had been dropped from orbit ahead of time, filled with carefully harvested mosses, mulch, and chemically precise fertilizers for a new species line. Another armored dump box, ready to be resealed for retrieval, waited outside the dead area, filled with the leftover and obsolete Grand Hain fertilizers and mulch, which would be s.h.i.+pped away.

The men worked for hours under the supervision of their companion Sisters, who acted appropriately aloof around mere laborers. Not once did the Face Dancers let their disguises slip; they were all true professionals, true performers-and perfectly content to carry out a tense and complicated a.s.signment that did not require a.s.sa.s.sination. Bronso and the two workers moved in perfect harmony-excavating dead plants, digging trenches, turning over the soil and adding the chemical fertilizers as if it were merely another dance for them, even if no one watched their show. Sisters, who acted appropriately aloof around mere laborers. Not once did the Face Dancers let their disguises slip; they were all true professionals, true performers-and perfectly content to carry out a tense and complicated a.s.signment that did not require a.s.sa.s.sination. Bronso and the two workers moved in perfect harmony-excavating dead plants, digging trenches, turning over the soil and adding the chemical fertilizers as if it were merely another dance for them, even if no one watched their show.

During those agonizing hours, Bronso cast surrept.i.tious glances toward the outbuildings, saw whirlwinds whipping up, great gusting breezes that rattled the tall skeletal trees, winds strong enough to scatter pebbles. A cl.u.s.ter of transient tornadoes circled one particular building, eerie dust devils and pale, swirling winds that appeared and disappeared. His Face Dancer spies had reported strange weather disturbances in the vicinity of Tessia's conservatory, but they could provide no explanation.

A few capricious winds were not going to bother him. He had waited years for this; finally, the time was nearing.

As the day progressed, the work brought them closer to Tessia's building, where Medical Sisters prodded her, tested her, tried to understand how she had independently recovered from the guilt-casting. The Face Dancer "Sisters" spread out and busied themselves with supposedly important activities. n.o.body had paid attention to their group all day. Bronso had seen to it that the proper papers were filed in the proper places.

The teams moved the large dump box that contained obsolete mulch material. In the gloaming, at the daylight's most uncertain point, two male workers opened the dump box and removed some of the mulch to create a makes.h.i.+ft nest. From their supply canisters, they swiftly removed thermal insulation, a breather pack, airtight clothes, sealants.

Bronso's heart pounded; he could feel cold sweat beading on his forehead and dripping down his back as he approached the conservatory building, supposedly to inspect the shrubberies. The strong, random winds gusted again, and s.h.i.+ngles on the building fluttered and rattled. A spray of dust and minor debris hissed against the outside walls.

Then the door opened and Tessia stood there in front of him. She looked older; her face was gaunt but her eyes were bright, her lips drawn back in a smile. "I got your message in the family code, Bronso. Very clever. I'm ready to go." back in a smile. "I got your message in the family code, Bronso. Very clever. I'm ready to go."

He had so much to say to her-but that would come in time, if they succeeded in escaping. There were lost years to recapture in words and memories-too many experiences to describe in fragments. They would start anew. "There is danger getting you out of here, Mother. Are you sure?"

"If I escape or if I die, either way I won't spend another moment under their control. Humans can endure many things, Bronso-as you know by now-but I am through enduring their abuses."

The blurred funnel of one of the transparent tornadoes appeared behind her, and a second gained strength, but Tessia seemed unconcerned. The whirlwinds circled and dissipated as she hurried over to the waiting dump box. The Face Dancers cl.u.s.tered close to s.h.i.+eld her from view.

"It will be uncomfortable, Mother, but it's the only way."

"I'm no stranger to discomfort." Tessia applied the breather to her face, wrapped herself in the thermal s.h.i.+elding, and climbed into the mulch. The Face Dancer workers connected the life-support systems and gave Tessia instructions.

Her voice was m.u.f.fled through the face mask, but her eyes never left Bronso's. "I will put myself into a trance and wait as long as is necessary."

As the conspirators worked, the tornadoes appeared and reappeared, seeming to gain strength until the group began to attract the attention of other Bene Gesserits, but the Face Dancer women moved in to intercept them.

As soon as the dump box was sealed and Tessia secured, the tornadoes vanished. The air fell still.

They moved the dump box and all their materials and equipment with as much furtive haste as possible. Bronso's heart did not stop racing until they were safely away from Wallach IX.

No man can be asked to do more than his best, even if he falls short.

-DUKE PAULUS ATREIDES

Now that Jessica had revealed the truth, Gurney understood why Bronso must not be captured. Duncan, though, unaware of any subterfuge, continued to throw himself into the task with all his energy.

While the ghola gathered details, Gurney labored to deflect the search subtly, trying not to get too close to the target. Thankfully, Bronso and his mysterious allies were masters of deception, planting false leads to establish dead-end trails that Gurney methodically followed, knowing they would lead nowhere. He didn't like to deceive his friend, but his greater loyalty lay with Lady Jessica, and to House Atreides. He understood what Paul wanted, and why-while Duncan did not.

However, the ghola was not only a Swordmaster, but also a Mentat, and not easily fooled. Gurney's many intentional failures were beginning to make him seem gullible or inept; before long Duncan would undoubtedly stop taking his advice or, worse, grow overtly suspicious.

Gurney paced their headquarters chamber in the Arrakeen citadel. "Face Dancers are Tleilaxu creations, so Bronso must have some sort of business arrangement with the Bene Tleilax. Maybe we should go to Thalim and interrogate some Tleilaxu Masters."

Duncan shook his head. "The Bene Tleilax hate House Vernius for ousting them from Ix, and the feeling is reciprocated. That is bound to be another dead end."

Since the ghola also had his own unsettling connections with the Tleilaxu, Gurney wondered if he could be reluctant to return to their worlds. "At least it's a new approach. At this point, I'm willing to try anything."

"I have another approach," Duncan said. "We can search among the Wayku aboard Guild Heighliners. We know the one named Ennzyn has a previous connection with Bronso Vernius. Find that one, and we might get some answers."

Gurney concealed his alarm as best he could. "It's been, what-nineteen years since the boys ran away? How do we even know Ennzyn is still working for the Guild?"

"Because the Wayku are forbidden to disembark on any planetary surface. He cannot have gone anywhere. And we know the Wayku are involved with Bronso because you and Lady Jessica observed them distributing the seditious literature during your pa.s.sage to Arrakis."

"Ah, so we did." At the time, though, Gurney had not been aware of what he knew now.

Boarding the next Guilds.h.i.+p that arrived at Arrakis, Duncan and Gurney marched to the restricted decks bearing authorization doc.u.ments signed by the Regent Alia herself. The cowed Guild security officials led them to a suite of windowless office cabins where sallow-skinned administrators sat at a row of desks. Though the administrators showed no enthusiasm for the task, the Guild knew the source of their spice and knew not to interfere.

One administrator gave a brief bow, not rising from behind his desk. "We will provide complete access to our personnel data, but we have very little information about individual Wayku employees. They have lived aboard Guilds.h.i.+ps for many, many centuries. They are ... company a.s.sets, like equipment."

Gurney scowled. "G.o.ds below, man! Even your equipment has serial numbers."

The Guildsman pondered for a moment, then left the chamber. He returned a short time later with printed records, s.h.i.+gawire reels, and crystal-etched doc.u.ments. "Perhaps the information you seek is here."

To Gurney the task seemed hopeless-and thankfully so-but Duncan dove into the records with dogged determination, dropping into Mentat focus to scan the considerable amount of data.

An hour went by, then two, then three, while Gurney waited patiently. Finally, Duncan rose behind the pile of doc.u.ments on the table. His ghola face held a satisfied smile, though his metal eyes were unreadable. "I've found him, Gurney. I know which s.h.i.+p carries Ennzyn. We will command the Navigator to divert this vessel so that we may intercept it."

Gurney's heart was heavy, but he pretended to be pleased.

Inside a chamber hidden in the deep desert, Bronso Vernius examined the tiny silver capsule that he had just removed from the back of his mother's neck. Hours before, at the Carthag s.p.a.ceport, he had discovered it with a scanner and had disabled it electronically.

An Ixian locator beacon. The very fact of its existence angered him. "Part of their testing, Mother. While you were comatose, maybe even when you were pregnant with your unwanted babies, the witches implanted a tracker."

Tessia pressed a healing pad over the wound on her neck. "I always wondered why that spot itched." She gave him a gentle smile. "You sound surprised. Do not underestimate the Bene Gesserit. Many of their monitoring devices were merely to study me. I was their experimental animal."

"And their brood mare."

"No matter how many other offspring they forced me to bear, you are my only true son, Bronso." She patted his arm. "And you have freed me. I'm safe now, with you."

He frowned. "You are never truly safe with me, Mother. There's been a price on my head for years. But we're here on Dune now, so there's a chance. We have important allies." Bronso placed the capsule on the hard plazcrete floor, and smashed it with the heel of his boot.

The Heighliner carrying Ennzyn was forcibly delayed in orbit above Balut, its next stop, and the Guild offered no explanations to the numerous pa.s.sengers aboard. As soon as the second Guilds.h.i.+p arrived, Duncan and Gurney shuttled across, aided by Guild security.

Following his companion, Gurney's mind spun. After so many years, he couldn't believe that Ennzyn truly had any continuing contact with Bronso, yet the Ixian obviously had supporters amongst the Wayku. What better place to start than with Ennzyn? It made perfect sense, and he saw no way he could divert Duncan's attention.

As soon as the two men came aboard, the Heighliner's security launched a thorough search of the lower crew decks. Duncan and Gurney hurried without additional escort directly to Ennzyn's private cabin.

Gurney tried to convince his companion to show restraint. "Bear in mind, Duncan, that this man showed us how to find Paul and Bronso when they were with the Jongleur troupe. He helped us save them."

Duncan paused. "I remember that full well. Is that another test of my memories?"

"No, a reminder of our obligations."

"If he is involved with spreading sedition against the Imperium, then we have no obligations to this man." Using an electronic master lock tool, Duncan unsealed the cabin door and forced it open.

Gurney hoped the Wayku steward wasn't there, but this hope faded quickly. As soon as the corridor light flooded the chamber, the Wayku man lurched to his feet, where he stood surrounded by piles of instroy paper doc.u.ments, stacks of reproduced manifestoes.

Sighting his quarry, Duncan lurched inside with a speed that Gurney had seen him use only in battle. As the Wayku reached for a small device under the metal table, trying to activate a switch-an incendiary?- Duncan pushed Ennzyn aside, and Gurney caught him, holding his arms behind his back.

The steward seemed unruffled by the unexpected vehemence of their reaction. His dark gla.s.ses and headphone had been knocked askew and fell to the cluttered deck; data streams poured onto the backs of the lenses, and faint voices emanated from his headphones. As soon as the units fell off, wisps of smoke emerged from the electronics.

With an att.i.tude of forced calm, Ennzyn studied the two men, recognized them. "Why, it is Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck from House Atreides. Do you need my help once more?"

"We need to find Bronso again," Gurney said. "You helped us track him down before."

"Oh, but the circ.u.mstances are entirely different now. That other time, it was in the young man's best interests to have him return home to his father. This time, I don't trust that you two gentlemen are quite so altruistic. It would be no kindness to Bronso if I were to help you find him."

Duncan showed no sympathy or patience. "We are under orders from Regent Alia to find him." He gestured to the incriminating doc.u.ments. "You are obviously in communication with Bronso of Ix."

Ennzyn didn't seem the least bit afraid. "I receive information only via complicated channels, and I am not in contact with him at this time. I believe he is involved in another important mission unrelated to his literary and historical endeavors." He smiled faintly. "Bronso knows how to hide, and the Wayku know how to keep secrets."

"That is unfortunate for you. Gurney, we will take him back to Arrakeen to stand before Alia."

Oddly enough, this caused Ennzyn great distress. "Wayku are not allowed to set foot on any planet. It is forbidden."

"Then I am dubious about your chances for survival." Duncan turned to his companion. "Did you find anything unusual among these?"

Gurney stopped his casual sifting through the stacked doc.u.ments. "No. Just multiple copies of the same thing." He looked heavily at the Wayku captive, knowing what would happen to Ennzyn as soon as he was brought before Alia's interrogators. "Duncan, this man was Paul's friend, as well. Ennzyn came to us, revealed the boys' location, and by doing so he probably saved Paul's life. Duke Leto would have considered that a debt."

"Duke Leto is dead."

"But is honor dead, as well?"

The ghola looked troubled by the conundrum. "What do you propose we do with this man? He has obviously committed crimes."

With a loud clamor, five Guild security men rushed down the corridor and met them at the open doorway to Ennzyn's cabin. "We found other stockpiles of doc.u.ments, sirs. We don't yet know which of the Wayku are involved." other stockpiles of doc.u.ments, sirs. We don't yet know which of the Wayku are involved."

"Ennzyn is involved," Duncan said.

Gurney looked at the captive, tried to understand what had driven this man-and so many of his vagabond people-to a.s.sist an outlaw like Bronso. Seeing no easy way out of the problem, but certain of what Alia would do to Ennzyn, he said, "Let these Guildsmen take care of the matter. The Wayku are their responsibility."

The lead guard snapped to attention. "We will bring this man and his allies before the highest levels of Guild administration. We will prove our loyalty to Regent Alia."

Duncan hesitated a long moment, choosing among orders, obligations, and humanity. Ennzyn looked at him as though he didn't care one way or the other, but Gurney could detect a gray pallor and a faint sheen of perspiration on his skin.

"Very well, but on one further condition. Dispatch a message throughout the Guild. All Wayku are to be questioned, all their decks to be searched, all copies of Bronso's doc.u.ments to be confiscated. We will eliminate this distribution method for the traitor, here and now." Duncan appeared satisfied. "We have shut down Bronso's ability to spread his lies. That is a sufficient triumph."

Gurney's shoulders sagged, and he wondered if his suggestion had caused even greater damage. Now Bronso would be painted into a corner, and more desperate. Even so, he wasn't likely to give up.