“You promised me the Lady Jessica. You promised her to me.”
“For what, Piter?” the Baron asked. “For pain?”
Piter stared at him, dragging out the silence.
Feyd-Rautha moved his suspensor chair to one side, said: “Uncle, do I have to stay? You said you’d—”
“My darling Feyd-Rautha grows impatient,” the Baron said. He moved within the shadows beside the globe. “Patience, Feyd.” And he turned his attention back to the Mentat. “What of the Dukeling, the child Paul, my dear Piter?”
“The trap will bring him to you, Baron,” Piter muttered.
“That’s not my question,” the Baron said. “You’ll recall that you predicted the Bene Gesserit witch would bear a daughter to the Duke. You were wrong, eh, Mentat?”
“I’m not often wrong, Baron,” Piter said, and for the first time there was fear in his voice. “Give me that: I’m not often wrong. And you know yourself these Bene Gesserit bear mostly daughters. Even the Emperor’s consort had produced only females.”
“Uncle,” said Feyd-Rautha, “you said there’d be something important here for me to—”
“Listen to my nephew,” the Baron said. “He aspires to rule my Barony, yet he cannot rule himself.” The Baron stirred beside the globe, a shadow among shadows. “Well then, Feyd-Rautha Harkonne, I summoned you here hoping to teach you a bit of wisdom. Have you observed our good Mentat? You should’ve learned something from this exchange.”
“But, Uncle—”
“A most efficient Mentat, Piter, wouldn’t you say, Feyd?”
“Yes, but—”
“Ah! Indeed but! But he consumes too much spice, eats it like candy. Look at his eyes! He might’ve come directly from the Arrakeen labor pool. Efficient, Piter, but he’s still emotional and prone to passionate outbursts. Efficient, Piter, but he still can err.”
Piter spoke in a low, sullen tone: “Did you call me in here to impair my efficiency with criticism, Baron?”
“Impair your efficiency? You know me better, Piter. I wish only for my nephew to understand the limitations of a Mentat.”
“Are you already training my replacement?” Piter demanded.
“Replace you? Why, Piter, where could I find another Mentat with your cunning and venom?”
“The same place you found me, Baron.”
“Perhaps I should at that,” the Baron mused. “You do seem a bit unstable lately. And the spice you eat!”
“Are my pleasures too expensive, Baron? Do you object to them?”
“My dear Piter, your pleasures are what tie you to me. How could I object to that? I merely wish my nephew to observe this about you.”
“Then I’m on display,” Piter said. “Shall I dance? Shall I perform my various functions for the eminent Feyd-Rau—”
“Precisely,” the Baron said. “You are on display. Now, be silent.” He glanced at Feyd-Rautha, noting his nephew’s lips, the full and pouting look of them, the Harkonnen genetic marker, now twisted slightly in amusement. “This is a Mentat, Feyd. It has been trained and conditioned to perform certain duties. The fact that it’s encased in a human body, however, must not be overlooked. A serious drawback, that. I sometimes think the ancients with their thinking machines had the right idea.”
“They were toys compared to me,” Piter snarled. “You yourself, Baron, could outperform those machines.”
“Perhaps,” the Baron said. “Ah, well....” He took a deep breath, belched. “Now, Piter, outline for my nephew the salient features of our campaign against the House of Atreides. Function as a Mentat for us, if you please.”
“Baron, I’ve warned you not to trust one so young with this information. My observations of—”
“I’ll be the judge of this,” the Baron said. “I give you an order, Mentat. Perform one of your various functions.”
“So be it,” Piter said. He straightened, assuming an odd attitude of dignity—as though it were another mask, but this time clothing his entire body. “In a few days Standard, the entire household of the Duke Leto will embark on a Spacing Guild liner for Arrakis. The Guild will deposit them at the city of Arrakeen rather than at our city of Carthag. The Duke’s Mentat, Thufir Hawat, will have concluded rightly that Arrakeen is easier to defend.”
“Listen carefully, Feyd,” the Baron said. “Observe the plans within plans within plans.”
Feyd-Rautha nodded, thinking: This is more like it. The old monster is letting me in on secret things at last. He must really mean for me to be his heir.
“There are several tangential possibilities,” Piter said. “I indicate that House Atreides will go to Arrakis. We must not, however, ignore the possibility the Duke has contracted with the Guild to remove him to a place of safety outside the System. Others in like circumstances have become renegade Houses, taking family