MERCURIAL ( paul atreides.. )

016. Glued to a Destructive Compulsion..

Shame clings. It clutches, not like the bindings between fabrics, not like threads cuddle each other in an embroidery, but rather like a glutton's fingers stick to a fragile book's pages, distorting the writing with its sweetened glaze and paraphrasing so to the eyes a false idol's promise. 

"As foreseen, the land, as its people, had been benevolent with the power change," somewhere in Shaddam Corrino's mind, Count Hasimir Fenring's voice had blended with his own in order to read the official report from Caladan, meant to reassure the court that the Siridar-Absentia following the fief change of the House of Atreides was going as smoothly as the Emperor had reassured them it would. After the demise of Leto's House had spread across Shaddam's Imperium, turning glares and snarls towards Baron Vladimir from places he had never even been mentioned by in fits of jealousy for his obscene wealth, it was paramount that he maintained the look of trust, the appearance of neutrality. His impartiality had to be translated and drawn out of honoring Caladan's legacy. "The one squadron provided by the House of Corrino has been more than sufficient to secure peacefully anything from Cala City to the Agamemnon Canyon. The Western continent has been obtained within the first hours from landing and so has the Southern Continent. I am pleased to announce that the Wine Region and the Melon Farms are being safely managed and production has not ceased, as the locals have been encouraged generously out of their mourning for their last departed liege. The Eastern Continent, the islands and the Fishing Outposts prove to be a challenge. Their loyalty runs as deep as the late Duke Leto Atreides had praised it. We will continue, as instructed, to offer the people comfort. I do not predict the fish export to be affected in any way. There are no casualties to report." 

Shaddam puffed a condescending smile before tiredly lifting his left hand, holding up a knife just about small and sharp enough to open anything from letters to chests. His next victim would be the heavy paper of the report and he started defiling it from the very top where the thin blade had separated in half the two papers stuck together. As the knife itself was a gift from Hasimir, engraved on the hilt with delicate flowers and vines, this game of their hiding messages within messages had played for as long as they knew each other. Uninterested in the official report carrying all the valuable stamps, Shaddam set it aside and pried off the real letter from his friend, held between the same fingers as the weapon.

"I haven't seen the sun since we came here. There is no light on this forsaken planet. Though storms are much more frequent than any of Leto's reports have led us to believe, they are not constant. Only instead of seeing the azure of the sky whenever clouds of pitch black dissipate away, all I see is the intoxicating blur of fogs, spreading all over the continents and even across the seas." He could already tell, with a sigh, that Hasimir was disappointed with the planet, yet instead of tasting some pity for his friend, he indulged with satisfaction that even for something as little as impressions, for once, he had been right. Caladan was a wretched planet, brought in exaggerate salve by the Atreides pride and popularity. With them gone, it was just another blue dot in the infinity of space. 

"It's loud, no matter where you go. Even the depths of the Castle Caladan are drowning in the buzz of furious waves and the roars of storms. Then there is also the smell that drives you to a gripping madness. The beaches reek of putrid seaweed, the hills smell of death. It's been raining for so long that landfalls have drowned the cemetery into the ocean; all orchards have been levelled with hail."

Shaddam read hungrily on, "The people are not making it easier for themselves and the fishermen have been the worst. Revolts on the first day since the Sardaukar first introduced them to the new regime to be introduced under the Corrino Empire jurisdiction. Public executions have not silenced them. What storms didn't destroy was burned to the ground by fishermen, lighting fogs auburn on the islands and the Eastern and Southern Continents. We are holding firm in the west, but the sea is a battlefield of perdition. Outposts Three, Four, Six and Twelve had been drowned in my efforts to snuff out their loyalist spark. Outpost One seems to show signs of weakness as it mourns its dead following the Sardaukar's shoot-on-sight of every local trying to reach the land during the height of the storm. Fear has been seeded into them. As soon as the fog period returns, I plan to land a battalion on this Outpost and force their labor to continue."