“Oh, no, my Lady,” he said. “Very little’s known of the deep desert. And almost nothing of the southern regions.”
“There’s a tale that a great Mother Lode of spice is to be found in the southern reaches,” Kynes said, “but I suspect it was an imaginative invention made solely for purposes of a song. Some daring spice hunters do, on occasion, penetrate into the edge of the central belt, but that’s extremely dangerous—navigation is uncertain, storms are frequent. Casualties increase dramatically the farther you operate from Shield Wall bases. It hasn’t been found profitable to venture too far south. Perhaps if we had a weather satellite….”
Bewt looked up, spoke around a mouthful of food: “It’s said the Fremen travel there, that they go anywhere and have hunted out soaks and sip-wells even in the southern latitudes.”
“Soaks and sip-wells?” Jessica asked.
Kynes spoke quickly: “Wild rumors, my Lady. These are known on other planets, not on Arrakis. A soak is a place where water seeps to the surface or near enough to the surface to be found by digging according to certain signs. A sip-well is a form of soak where a person draws water through a straw… so it is said.”
There’s deception in his words, Jessica thought.
Why is he lying? Paul wondered.
“How very interesting,” Jessica said. And she thought. “It is said….” What a curious speech mannerism they have here. If they only knew what it reveals about their dependence on superstitions.
“I’ve heard you have a saying,” Paul said, “that polish comes from the cities, wisdom from the desert.”
“There are many sayings on Arrakis,” Kynes said.
Before Jessica could frame a new question, a servant bent over her with a note. She opened it, saw the Duke’s handwriting and code signs, scanned it.
“You’ll all be delighted to know,” she said, “that our Duke sends his reassurances. The matter which called him away has been settled. The missing carryall has been found. A Harkonnen agent in the crew overpowered the others and flew the machine to a smugglers’ base, hoping to sell it there. Both man and machine were turned over to our forces.” She nodded to Tuek.
The smuggler nodded back.
Jessica refolded the note, tucked it into her sleeve.
“I’m glad it didn’t come to open battle,” the banker said. “The people have such hopes the Atreides will bring peace and prosperity.”
“Especially prosperity,” Bewt said.
“Shall we have our dessert now?” Jessica asked. “I’ve had our chef prepare a Caladan sweet: pongi rice in sauce dolsa.”
“It sounds wonderful,” the stillsuit manufacturer said. “Would it be possible to get the recipe?”
“Any recipe you desire,” Jessica said, registering the man for later mention to Hawat. The stillsuit manufacturer was a fearful little climber and could be bought.
Small talk resumed around her: “Such a lovely fabric….” “He is having a setting made to match the jewel….” “We might try for a production increase next quarter….”
Jessica stared down at her plate, thinking of the coded part of Leto’s message: The Harkonnens tried to get in a shipment of lasguns. We captured them. This may mean they’ve succeeded with other shipments. It certainly means they don’t place much store in shields. Take appropriate precautions.
Jessica focused her mind on lasguns, wondering. The white-hot beams of disruptive light could cut through any known substance, provided that substance was not shielded. The fact that feedback from a shield would explode both lasgun and shield did not bother the Harkonnens. Why? A lasgun-shield explosion was a dangerous variable, could be more powerful than atomics, could kill only the gunner and his shielded target.
The unknowns here filled her with uneasiness.
Paul said: “I never doubted we’d find the carryall. Once my father moves to solve a problem, he solves it. This is a fact the Harkonnens are beginning to discover.”
He’s boasting, Jessica thought. He shouldn’t boast. No person who’ll be sleeping far below ground level this night as a precaution against lasguns has the right to boast.
***
“There is no escape—we pay for the violence of our ancestors.”
—from “The Collected Sayings of Muad’Dib” by the Princess Irulan
JESSICA HEARD the disturbance in the great hall, turned on the light beside her bed. The clock there had not been properly adjusted to local time, and she had to subtract twenty-one minutes to determine that it was about 2 A.M.
The disturbance was loud and incoherent.
Is this the Harkonnen attack? she wondered.
She slipped out of bed, checked the screen monitors to see where her family was. The screen showed Paul asleep in the deep cellar room