Baron said. “Never obliterate a man unthinkingly, the way an entire fief might do it through some due process of law. Always do it for an overriding purpose—and know your purpose!”
Anger spoke in Rabban: “But you obliterated the traitor, Yueh! I saw his body being carried out as I arrived last night.”
Rabban stared at his uncle, suddenly frightened by the sound of those words.
But the Baron smiled. “I’m very careful about dangerous weapons,” he said. “Doctor Yueh was a traitor. He gave me the Duke.” Strength poured into the Baron’s voice. “I suborned a doctor of the Suk School! The Inner School! You hear, boy? But that’s a wild sort of weapon to leave lying about. I didn’t obliterate him casually.”
“Does the Emperor know you suborned a Suk doctor?”
This was a penetrating question, the Baron thought. Have I misjudged this nephew?
“The Emperor doesn’t know it yet,” the Baron said. “But his Sardaukar are sure to report it to him. Before that happens, though, I’ll have my own report in his hands through CHOAM Company channels. I will explain that I luckily discovered a doctor who pretended to the conditioning. A false doctor, you understand? Since everyone knows you cannot counter the conditioning of a Suk School, this will be accepted.”
“Ah-h-h, I see,” Rabban murmured.
And the Baron thought: Indeed, I hope you do see. I hope you do see how vital it is that this remain secret. The Baron suddenly wondered at himself. Why did I do that? Why did I boast to this fool nephew of mine—the nephew I must use and discard? The Baron felt anger at himself. He felt betrayed.
“It must be kept secret,” Rabban said. “I understand.”
The Baron sighed. “I give you different instructions about Arrakis this time, Nephew. When last you ruled this place, I held you in strong rein. This time, I have only one requirement.”
“M’Lord?”
“Income.”
“Income?”
“Have you any idea, Rabban, how much we spent to bring such military force to bear on the Atreides? Do you have even the first inkling of how much the Guild charges for military transport?”
“Expensive, eh?”
“Expensive!”
The Baron shot a fat arm toward Rabban. “If you squeeze Arrakis for every cent it can give us for sixty years, you’ll just barely repay us!”
Rabban opened his mouth, closed it without speaking.
“Expensive,” the Baron sneered. “The damnable Guild monopoly on space would’ve ruined us if I hadn’t planned for this expense long ago. You should know, Rabban, that we bore the entire brunt of it. We even paid for transport of the Sardaukar.”
And not for the first time, the Baron wondered if there ever would come a day when the Guild might be circumvented. They were insidious—bleeding off just enough to keep the host from objecting until they had you in their fist where they could force you to pay and pay and pay.
Always, the exorbitant demands rode upon military ventures. “Hazard rates,” the oily Guild agents explained. And for every agent you managed to insert as a watchdog in the Guild Bank structure, they put two agents into your system.
Insufferable!
“Income then,” Rabban said.
The Baron lowered his arm, made a fist. “You must squeeze.”
“And I may do anything I wish as long as I squeeze?”
“Anything.”
“The cannons you brought,” Rabban said. “Could I—”
“I’m removing them,” the Baron said.
“But you—”
“You won’t need such toys. They were a special innovation and are now useless. We need the metal. They cannot go against a shield, Rabban. They were merely the unexpected. It was predictable that the Duke’s men would retreat into cliff caves on this abominable planet. Our cannon merely sealed them in.”
“The Fremen don’t use shields.”
“You may keep some lasguns if you wish.”
“Yes, m’Lord. And I have a free hand.”
“As long as you squeeze.”
Rabban’s smile was gloating. “I understand perfectly, m’Lord.”
“You understand nothing perfectly,” the Baron growled. “Let us have that clear at the outset. What you do understand is how to carry out my orders. Has it occurred to you, nephew, that there are at least five million persons on this planet?”
“Does m‘Lord forget that I was his regent-siridar here before? And if m’Lord will forgive me, his estimate may be low. It’s difficult to count a population scattered among sinks and pans the way they are here. And when you consider the Fremen of—”
“The Fremen aren’t worth considering!”
“Forgive me, m’Lord, but the Sardaukar believe otherwise.”
The Baron hesitated, staring at his nephew. “You know something?”
“M’Lord had retired when I arrived last night. I …ah, took the liberty of contacting some of my lieutenants from… ah,