House Atreides - By Brian Herbert & Kevin J. Anderson Page 0,14

had gotten himself into political trouble late in his impulsive marriage to his fourth wife Habla, and several Landsraad leaders had been forced to use their House military might to enforce stability again. House Vernius of Ix had been among these allies, as had the Atreides.

Now Dominic smiled beneath an extravagant mustache, and looked on Elrood with a jaded eye. The old vulture had not earned his throne through great deeds or compassion. Dominic’s great-uncle Gaylord had once said, “If you are born to power, you must prove you deserve it through good works— or give it up. To do any less is to act without conscience.”

Standing impatiently on the checkerboard floor of polished stone squares— purportedly samples from all the worlds in the Imperium— Dominic waited for Elrood to speak. A million worlds? There couldn’t possibly be that many stones here, though I don’t want to be the one to count them.

The Chamberlain stared down at him as if his diet consisted entirely of soured milk. But Earl Vernius could play the game himself and refused to fidget, refused to inquire into the nature of his summons. He just stood still, smiling at the old man. Dominic’s expression and bright eyes implied knowledge of many more embarrassing personal secrets about the old man than Shando had actually confessed to him— but the suspicion galled Elrood, like an Elaccan bitterthorn in his side.

Something moved on the right, and in the shadows of an arched doorway Dominic saw a black-robed woman, one of those Bene Gesserit witches. He couldn’t make out her face, partially concealed as it was by an overhanging cowl. Notorious hoarders of secrets, the Bene Gesserit were always close to the centers of power, constantly watching . . . constantly manipulating.

“I won’t ask you if it’s true, Vernius,” the Emperor finally said. “My sources are unerring, and I know you have committed this terrible act. Ixian technology! Pah!” He made as if to spit from his withered lips. Dominic did not roll his eyes upward; Elrood always overestimated the effectiveness of his melodramatic gestures.

Dominic continued to smile, showing plenty of teeth. “I am unaware of committing any ‘terrible act,’ Sire. Ask your Truthsayer, if you don’t believe me.” He flicked a glance at the dark-robed Bene Gesserit woman.

“Mere semantics— don’t play dumb, Dominic.”

Still, he simply waited, forcing the Emperor to state his charge explicitly.

Elrood huffed, and the Chamberlain huffed with him. “Damn it, your new Heighliner design will allow the Guild, with their damnable monopoly on space transport, to carry sixteen percent more in each load!”

Dominic bowed, still smiling mildly. “Actually, m’Lord, we have been able to boost the increase to eighteen percent. That’s a substantial improvement over the previous design, involving not only a new hull but a shield technology that weighs less and takes up less room. Therefore, boosted efficiency. This is the very heart of Ixian innovation, which has made House Vernius great over the centuries.”

“Your alteration reduces the number of flights the Guild must make to haul the same amount of cargo.”

“Why, naturally, Sire.” Dominic looked at the old man as if he were incredibly dense. “If you increase the capacity of each Heighliner, you decrease the number of flights required to haul the same amount of material. Simple mathematics.”

“Your redesign causes great hardship for the Imperial House, Earl Vernius,” said Aken Hesban, clutching his chain of office as if it were a handkerchief. His long mustaches looked like the tusks of a walrus.

“Well, I suppose I can understand the shortsighted reason for your concern, Sire,” Dominic said, not deigning to look at the stuffed-shirt Chamberlain. Imperial tax was based on the number of flights rather than on the amount of cargo, and the Heighliner redesign therefore resulted in a substantial reduction in income for House Corrino.

Dominic spread his broad scarred hands, looking eminently reasonable. “But how can you request that we blatantly hold back progress? Ix has in no way countermanded the strictures of the Great Revolt. We have the full support of the Spacing Guild and the Landsraad.”

“You did this knowing it would incur my wrath?” Elrood leaned forward on the massive throne, looking even more the vulture.

“Come now, Sire!” Dominic laughed, belittling the Emperor’s concerns. “Personal feelings can have no place in the march of progress.”

Elrood raised himself off the chair, standing in his billowy robes of state that hung like awnings over his skeletal body. “I can’t renegotiate with the Guild for a tax based on metric tonnage, Vernius. You