The Winds of Dune (55 page)

The people hesitated for a moment, as if they had all drawn a deep breath at the same time. Then they cheered.

Jessica climbed back into the groundcar and told the driver to take them to the Castle. She leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes. “Gurney, I have to resolve this before Paul does.”

He looked at her quizzically, then nodded. “Just give me my orders, my Lady.”

Expecting Jessica to speak on their behalf, the people were eager to cooperate now, to show their faith in her. The four hostage priests were released within two hours. Gurney had put them in a safe building near the Castle and posted several of his offworld guards to watch over them. Satisfied with that at least, Jessica prepared for the evening. It would be her one chance to end this.

Gurney pressed her for what she planned to do, but Jessica refused to answer him. This was her decision, though she didn’t like keeping such secrets from her trusted friend.
Paul has found the smallest price to pay, and I shall do the same.

She had to prevent the oncoming disaster and hamstring the Sisterhood’s plans to spark revolts across the Imperium, using the people of Caladan as cannon fodder. She had to stop it
here
.

When the ten specially chosen guests arrived, servants escorted them into the main banquet hall. These were the ringleaders, as selected by the dissidents themselves. Mayor Horvu looked relieved to see her. The priest Sintra, as well as the prominent leaders from Cala City and other coastal towns, all seemed delighted and victorious. Jessica had agreed to hear their grievances and present her solution.

Six men and two women accompanied the priest and the mayor, finding their places at the long table with an almost comical lack of efficiency. Most had never been inside the Castle before, and certainly not for such an important dinner. Food had already been delivered to the table, the portions served on fine plates next to goblets of clear spring water—a reminder of Caladan’s bounty as compared to Arrakis.

After the servants departed, Jessica spoke in a clear voice. “Gurney, would you please excuse us?”

Gurney was surprised to be dismissed. “My Lady? Are you certain I can’t be of assistance?”

She did not want him here. “For the moment, I must serve as the Duchess of Caladan, and this discussion is a private matter between these people and myself. Please close the doors behind you.”

Though he looked concerned, Gurney departed straightaway, as instructed. The ten guests were flushed and excited; several looked smug. Sintra seemed to take special pleasure in seeing Gurney dismissed, apparently believing that Jessica disapproved of how he had handled matters in her absence.

She took her place at the head of the table. The Mayor and his cohorts had a festive air about them, expressing their concerns politely, at first. After a few minutes, however, the discussion grew heated and boisterous. As promised, Jessica listened. Mayor Horvu boasted that, with Jessica as their direct spokesperson, Paul-Muad’Dib would have no choice but to leave Caladan alone.

Jessica drew a deep breath and said cautiously, “I believe that my son still trusts my judgment. Now, eat. Drink. We have a hard night ahead of us, and I do not intend to leave this room until our problem is solved.” She raised her goblet and drank, tasting the spring water.

Abbo Sintra raised his glass in a toast. “To solving problems.” They all drank.

Horvu, his face seamed with worry, said, “My Lady, we don’t want you to consider us troublemakers. But you must admit that your son’s troops have taken aggressive actions across the galaxy. As an Atreides you cannot possibly condone such reprehensible acts? We only want Paul to remember his roots, and his Atreides honor, as well. That is all.”

The guests ate their nut-and-cheese salads, then turned to the steaming bowls of traditional fish chowder.

The priest said in a bright voice, “When the other planetary representatives come here, we have decided that you may speak for Caladan. Assure everyone that all our people remain free of the stain of the Emperor’s Jihad, commoners and nobility, united. Let history record that we rose up against tyranny and said
No
in a loud and unanimous voice.” He ended with a grandiose flourish, looking very pleased with himself.

“On the contrary,” Jessica said with a heavy heart, watching them all eat, “this is where
I
say no. This is where I save the people of Caladan from grave danger.”

The men and women around the table appeared confused. Horvu said, “But
we
have already saved Caladan, my Lady.” He seemed surprised that his voice was inexplicably slurred.

Jessica shook her head. “It is unfortunate, because I do sympathize with your outrage. The Jihad massacres are indeed tragic. But in the course of such sweeping, ambitious changes across an entire empire, there are bound to be excessive deaths. This saddens me, but Paul is my son, and I had a hand in his training. He knows what is necessary.”

“But . . . you
must
help us, Lady Jessica,” one of the two women at the table said. She seemed to be having trouble breathing and took a long drink of her water, but it didn’t help.

Jessica recognized the woman as the daughter of one of the village fishermen. They’d met once, a rainy day on the docks where the woman had helped her father prepare his weather-beaten old boat. Jessica had overheard her cursing like one of the men, before she had abruptly changed her tone upon noticing the Duchess.

“In a way,” Jessica said, forcing herself to calmness, “it is all of
you
who are helping me and helping Caladan. I’m sorry, but this is my solution—the only way I could see to avert a far greater crisis. I decided to save millions of lives.”

Sintra began coughing. Several of the others looked dizzy, sleepy, sick. Their eyes rolled.

“The sacrifice you make here will preserve Caladan, as I know you meant to do. As Duchess, I make choices that affect the entirety of this world . . . just as Muad’Dib makes choices for all of the Imperium. Your deaths will demonstrate to the Emperor that I have taken care of the problem—that there is no need for him to send his armies here.”

True to the Bene Gesserit records she had consulted, the poison she’d chosen had no taste, and it acted quickly . . . supposedly painlessly. For herself, she had consumed the same poison, but had easily transmuted the substance in her body, rendering it inert.

“It wasn’t entirely your fault, which saddens me even more. You were all manipulated by skilled Bene Gesserits, and you did not understand where you were being led. I will issue a statement that you ten conspirators were tricked by Sisterhood agents, as part of a plot to overthrow the Emperor Muad’Dib. They will bear the brunt of the blame.”

This addresses two problems at once
, Jessica thought.
It deals with the uprising, and it serves as an act of defiance against the Bene Gesserit, along with my total rejection of their offer.

“Every other Caladanian who participated in this rebellion will be pardoned,” Jessica said. “Take comfort in that. But the ten of you . . . you are the price that must be paid.”

Resigned, she sat straight-backed in her chair and watched the guests struggling, gasping, slumping over their plates or falling to the floor. As she watched, the Mayor slid off his chair with a heavy thud. His eyes went lifeless, while hers filled with tears.

Jessica fought back the emotion and said aloud to the room of death. “This thing needed doing, and I did it. Now, I’ve acted like both a Harkonnen and an Atreides.”

Though I do not regret my years of service to House Atreides, there are no words to express some of the things I have witnessed, and done, and endured. I will not even try—I’d rather they were forgotten.

—
GURNEY HALLECK,
Unfinished Songs

S
eeing the bodies slumped around the banquet table, Gurney was both furious and sickened. He stared for a long moment at the surprise and disbelief frozen on the faces of Mayor Horvu, the village priest, and the other instigators.

After letting Gurney back inside the room, Jessica made sure the chamber door remained securely locked, knowing this would test the depths of the man’s loyalty. “You didn’t do this, Gurney.
I
did. It was a terrible price to pay—but it was the smallest price I could find.”

Gurney looked at her, his eyes red. “But you
knew
these people, my Lady! They were foolish, but they had good hearts. They were like children playing on a galactic stage.” He gestured toward the sprawled figures. “They were
innocents.”

Jessica steeled her voice. She needed him with her now. “They were
not
innocents. Did we not both counsel them against rebellion? I myself warned them that there would be significant consequences if they proceeded. And do you believe it was an accident that they sent out those couriers behind your back, and while I was gone? And when did mere innocents start to take hostages? They let the situation get out of hand, and Paul would never have forgiven their revolt or swept it aside. If he showed any weakness or hesitation here, then other planets
would have broken from the Imperium. The Emperor would have had to crack down on planet after planet, undoubtedly sterilizing even more worlds.” She looked at the silent victims around the banquet table. “This . . . this was only ten lives. Not such a high price.”

Gurney frowned, struggling to fit the tragedy into his concept of honor and decency, as well as loyalty to her and to House Atreides. With an effort, Jessica kept her voice from breaking; she sounded strong and firm, thanks to her Bene Gesserit training—and she hated herself for it.

“Without these instigators, the revolt on Caladan falls apart. Therefore, Paul doesn’t have to respond at all. It remains a local matter, which
I
have dealt with, as Duchess. No need for the Fedaykin to get involved. Without these ten people, there will be no additional violence, or bloodshed, or repercussions on a hundred other worlds.” She swallowed hard and added, “You know it yourself, Gurney. A mad dog must be put down before it can cause greater harm. These people were mad dogs. It was the only way. If I had hesitated . . .”

Finally, tears fell from her eyes, and she wiped them away with a quick gesture. Gurney turned his eyes away, pretending not to notice. All her life, the Sisterhood had forced her to build up impenetrable walls around her emotions, forced her not to
feel,
but in such an extreme case, after the terrible decision she had made, Jessica could not help herself.

The lumpy man nodded, very slowly. When she saw his mood change, Jessica realized she’d never had any doubt that Gurney Halleck would remain loyal to her.

He said, “So these ten are no different from the cannon-fodder shock troops in a war zone. They died in a battle that they helped create, and unfortunately they chose the wrong side.” His voice sounded bleak. “I understand it better now, my Lady, but I still don’t like it. I don’t like what this changes in me. I’ve killed plenty of people in my service to House Atreides, but never before have I felt as if I participated in . . . murder.”

Jessica took his hands in hers and said sadly, “Time and war change everything from bright and new to old, worn, and dirty. It is not murder. That’s not the right word for it when a ruler performs necessary
executions
. As the Duchess of Caladan, that is one of my hardest duties.”