them extended range. Extra care has been used in sealing essential areas against sand and dust. Only about one in thirty is shielded—possibly discarding the shield generator’s weight for greater range.”
“I don’t like this de-emphasis on shields,” the Duke muttered. And he thought: Is this the Harkonnen secret? Does it mean we won’t even be able to escape on shielded frigates if all goes against us? He shook his head sharply to drive out such thoughts, said: “Let’s get to the working estimate. What’ll our profit figure be?”
Hawat turned two pages in his notebook. “After assessing the repairs and operable equipment, we’ve worked out a first estimate on operating costs. It’s based naturally on a depreciated figure for a clear safety margin.” He closed his eyes in Mentat semitrance, said: “Under the Harkonnens, maintenance and salaries were held to fourteen per cent. We’ll be lucky to make it at thirty per cent at first. With reinvestment and growth factors accounted for, including the CHOAM percentage and military costs, our profit margin will be reduced to a very narrow six or seven per cent until we can replace worn-out equipment. We then should be able to boost it up to twelve or fifteen per cent where it belongs.” He opened his eyes. “Unless my Lord wishes to adopt Harkonnen methods.”
“We’re working for a solid and permanent planetary base,” the Duke said. “We have to keep a large percentage of the people happy—especially the Fremen.”
“Most especially the Fremen,” Hawat agreed.
“Our supremacy on Caladan,” the Duke said, “depended on sea and air power. Here, we must develop something I choose to call desert power. This may include air power, but it’s possible it may not. I call your attention to the lack of ‘thopter shields.” He shook his head. “The Harkonnens relied on turnover from off planet for some of their key personnel. We don’t dare. Each new lot would have its quota of provocateurs.”
“Then we’ll have to be content with far less profit and a reduced harvest,” Hawat said. “Our output the first two seasons should be down a third from the Harkonnen average.”
“There it is,” the Duke said, “exactly as we expected. ”We’ll have to move fast with the Fremen. I’d like five full battalions of Fremen troops before the first CHOAM audit.”
“That’s not much time, Sire,” Hawat said.
“We don’t have much time, as you well know. They’ll be here with Sardaukar disguised as Harkonnens at the first opportunity. How many do you think they’ll ship in, Thufir?”
“Four or five battalions all told, Sire. No more, Guild troop-transport costs being what they are.”
“Then five battalions of Fremen plus our own forces ought to do it. Let us have a few captive Sardaukar to parade in front of the Landsraad Council and matters will be much different—profits or no profits.”
“We’ll do our best, Sire.”
Paul looked at his father, back to Hawat, suddenly conscious of the Mentat’s great age, aware that the old man had served three generations of Atreides. Aged. It showed in the rheumy shine of the brown eyes, in the cheeks cracked and burned by exotic weathers, in the rounded curve of the shoulders and the thin set of his lips with the cranberry-colored stain of sapho juice.
So much depends on one aged man, Paul thought.
“We’re presently in a war of assassins,” the Duke said, “but it has not achieved full scale. Thufir, what’s the condition of the Harkonnen machine here?”
“We’ve eliminated two hundred and fifty-nine of their key people, my Lord. No more than three Harkonnen cells remain—perhaps a hundred people in all.”
“These Harkonnen creatures you eliminated,” the Duke said, “were they propertied?”
“Most were well situated, my Lord—in the entrepreneur class.”
“I want you to forge certificates of allegiance over the signatures of each of them,” the Duke said. “File copies with the Judge of the Change. We’ll take the legal position that they stayed under false allegiance. Confiscate their property, take everything, turn out their families, strip them. And make sure the Crown gets its ten per cent. It must be entirely legal.”
Thufir smiled, revealing red-stained teeth beneath the carmine lips. “A move worthy of your grandsire, my Lord. It shames me I didn’t think of it first.”
Halleck frowned across the table, noticing a deep scowl on Paul’s face. The others were smiling and nodding.
It’s wrong, Paul thought. This’ll only make the others fight all the harder. They’ve nothing to gain by surrendering.
He knew the actual no-holds-barred convention that ruled in kanly, but this was the sort of move