The cloning of humans is on most of the lists of things to worry about from Science,
along with behaviour control, genetic engineering, transplanted heads, computer poetry
and the unrestrained growth of plastic flowers.
Lewis Thomas (1913 - 1993)
It was not often that Family Atreides gathered as Family. They could usually be found in a variety of combinations but it was becoming rare to see all gathered together except for formal occasions. The worm ride changed the status quo.
The four gathered in the living quarters of Arista and Duncan. They were set up in the Ancient Roman style of a circle of chaise longues. Each member was perched on one and the family was profiting the opportunity to have dinner at the same time. Once the provisions had been laid out and the wine poured, the assistants were dismissed.
“THAT was some ride.” Amasso teased his sibling then sipped his wine.
Dax didn’t know where to start so he said nothing.
Duncan frowned at Amasso’s action but he too remained silent.
Arista cleared her throat and gently encouraged her son. “Dax, what happened out there?”
“As you well know there is always worm sign around me, but I never get attacked. There has to be something going on between me and the worms.”
“Something?” Duncan prompted one son as he eyed the other.
“Well, I really can’t explain it more than that.” He continued, “I had an insight that if I called; that one would come and more than that, it would do my bidding.”
Arista sat up. “Your bidding?” she exchanged glances with Duncan.
Dax nodded.
Amasso refilled his glass. “You are trying to tell us that you are controlling the Sand Worms of Dune?”
“I’m telling you that the Worm did my bidding beyond that I don’t know WHAT is happening!” He was getting distraught.
“Enough!” Duncan ordered; would these two ever settle down? “…anything else to add, Son?”
“Well. I think the worms may be falling ill.” He proceeded to tell them of the growth he had seen on the worm that he had ridden.
Arista became quiet as she remembered the memo from Kyens. She mentally groaned 'This is a year designed to test me. Will it never end? Is that what Keynes wants to see me about?'
She put on her ‘family’ face and returned to the present to enjoy the infrequent pleasure of dining with her family. She needed the semblance of this normality to give her the breathing space. Despite her best efforts her mind churned. 'I need to start making plans and examine the possibilities in this situation presents. The power potential here is astronomical. This meal will have to be over with soon. With Dax making that display in public; the Bene Gesserit and Landsraad will reaction to this possible repeat of history is sure to come.'
She barely heard the chatter about her. 'I were them I'd be making immediate plans to assassinate Dax. I need to be plan how to protect this House and my son!'
She gave up the charade of family time. She was about to end the dinnertime, when Dax dropped the bombshell. "I have named the Lady Alexi as my Consort." He was standing behind his mother where there was a wider range of drinks were available.
"WHAT!" Amasso demanded. "Just who the hell do you think you are?! You just walk in and claim as you see fit? Give me a break!!”
Arista paused in midaction. She had been about to reach for an olive when her para-bindu reflexes kicked in. In a blur she rolled over and landed on the floor as Amasso flung his goblet at Dax. Despite his having been drinking he moved with lightening speed but not great accuracy. The goblet missed his mother and imbedded itself in the wall behind her.
The crash brought staff running into the room. Duncan spotted them and they looked to him for guidance him. He waved then away. When the guards hesitated he glared at them. At that point they left the room but remained within earshot.
Meanwhile Dax was dodging Amasso’s every move, an action that was only serving to infuriate his brother, a fact that Dax knew all too well and used constantly to great effect. Though Dax was emerging unscathed the same could not be said for the furniture. There was no telling what now had Amasso so angry: Dax’s announcement or his bobbing and weaving.
“Stay still!” Amasso ordered.
“I’m younger not more stupid!” Dax replied.
Leaving the Guards to Duncan; Arista dealt with her sons; she was not in the mood for a battle of the Twins. She was already distracted by thoughts of Empire and nightmares of an assassinated son. She hurled the voice at them "ENOUGH!" She roared shattering the mirror that hung in the room. It froze the two, before they could do any damage.
Duncan took over. He strode up to the two men “Gentlemen! And I use the term loosely what the hell were you thinking!” he roared. “Fedeykin! …and Majors at that! Both of whom should KNOW better!”
“I would like to hear the answer to that myself!” Arista added. "Since when do Atreides men brawl over bound concubines?!" They stood facing their parents, while Arista decided to moved away and stand to the side to watch the proceedings. This had been too much. The imbedded mug caught her eye. She growled softly.
“Answer your Mother’s question gentlemen!” Duncan demanded.
Both were silent
“Mmm” Their father muttered. “I need to cool down before I deal with you two. In the meantime you will be getting a bill for the collateral damage.”
“Understood sir!” they responded.
“I doubt that you do.” Duncan snarled. “Fedeykin! … Officers no less! … My own sons brawling like some trainee Officer!” He paused. “The evening and the meal is shot. Go home report tomorrow … I’ll tell you my decision then… DISMISSED!”
“Aye sir!” They snapped to attention and left.
Duncan looked at Arista who just shrugged her shoulders.
"Has she even agreed?" Duncan sighed.
"More important has the Bene Gesserit agreed." Arista slid onto the sofa, exhausted.
~*~*~*~*~
Prince Rammen Corrino strolled through the gardens of the Palace of House Corrino. They really were spectacular. He had seen vidpics of the pre-Butleran gardens of Versailles on Earth and that was a mud patch compared to what lay outstretched before him. Every colour ever conceived by God and Man was represented here.
He glanced at Xavier Mehda'in his Mentat. He had presented the walking computer with a projection to formulate. Who was behind the attacks on Kaitain and Giedi Prime? Once the result was pronounced the Prince then wanted to know the likelihood of a Military Force of the nature and scale of the Sardaukar being needed.
As the Mentat computed, Rammen attended to the important matter of the moment and proceeded to stroll around… and encountered the Reverend Mother Kardon.
“Kardon!” He called. “Walk with me.”
“Highness.” She fell into step with him.
“Spectacular Flora – no?” They walked along.
“Indeed, in nature however, Highness the more spectacular the creature the more deadly the bite.”
“Sound’s like a description of the Bene Gesserit.”
“As all are aware we monitor power: pure, corrupt, absolute. Once manifest we monitor and maintain the progress in the archives of authority.” She replied.
He burst out laughing. “Oh Kardon! That was priceless, the Bene Gesserit observers of power! When was that?” He chuckled. Then he spotted that his Mentat was ready. “If you will excuse me.”
She bowed as he walked away.
He got sober and then serious as he approached Mehda'in. “Well?”
“There is a ninety percent probability that House Atreides will be accused of the act of terrorism at the convening of the Landsraad and a sixty percent probability that Military Force will be required at some point.”
“It should make for an interesting Convocation.”
~*~*~*~*~
Mother Superior Sasha had yet another representative on her doorstep. This time she faced a Novice Guild Navigator.
The guttural grunts and whistles were translated for her to understand. “The Landsraad has been convened, we foresee problems. We foresee a threat to spice production.”
“This cannot be allowed to happen.” She agreed. “We suspect that idiot the Baron has set in motion a plan that can have serious implications.”
“We concur.” The translating machine wheezed. “This Convocation of the Landsraad cannot be allowed to jeopardize spice production
“Our Mentats project that there is a ninety three point one percent probability that House Atredies will be accused of Terrorism.” She revealed.
The navigator took a sharp breath. “The Spice MUST flow! Without it space travel will cease!”
“We concur.”
“The path is cloudy.” He admitted.
“Thus making it a dangerous one.” She replied.
“Then we understand each other.”
“Indeed we do.”
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