Dune: The Lady of Caladan by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson

Author:Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson [Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Random House Australia

Even if we gouge out our eyes, we cannot unsee the truth. Even if we cut out our tongues, we cannot unspeak the truth. The truth is permanent.

—Fremen aphorism

Stray gusts of wind, sand, and grit swirled in the high-walled canyon that hid the Orgiz spice refinery. The heat and dust made Rabban’s mouth go dry and his eyes burn, but he was glad to be back on Arrakis from miserable Lankiveil. Rough conditions like the desert made him feel more alive, and out here he was in command.

At the end of the box canyon, the spice silos were filled with powdery rust-colored melange. A mere handful of the substance was equivalent to a year’s wages for the lower classes on Giedi Prime. His desert workers were hard-bitten veterans, their faces weathered, wiry bodies encased in stillsuits. They were chosen from the regular spice crews and reassigned to the secret operations at Orgiz. The brooding shift supervisors were Harkonnen loyalists brought in from Giedi Prime. Every person here had been conditioned to absolute loyalty, whether through indoctrination, bribes, or blackmail.

Once transferred to Orgiz, though, no one was allowed to leave, and the workers were beginning to realize it. Supplies were delivered, and their accounts were full, but they received no furlough—Rabban couldn’t risk it. Even though they grumbled, there was no place to which they could escape. Setting out across the desert would mean certain death, as they well knew.

He looked up, hearing the thrum of a carryall, and he saw its underside shift as its electronic camouflage began to fade. The sound vibrated against the rock walls as another load came in, but the lumbering craft barely cleared the jagged mountain peaks. The loss of the original refinery here had been an embarrassment to House Harkonnen, when a rogue sandworm destroyed everything. But now the outer canyon opening was blocked off by a cascade of detonated rock, and the restored operations were proving to be highly profitable.

With sunlight slashing down into the canyon, Rabban strutted through the complex. By letting the crew see him, he could make them work harder, produce more melange. He wore protective armor, high boots, and a personal shield belt, which he would never use out in the open sands, but he disdained a confining stillsuit like his workers wore. He could feel the sweat pouring off of him and evaporating into the air, and it felt liberating. He was Glossu Rabban, the Count of Lankiveil, and he could purchase as much water as he needed.

After his uncle’s recent challenge to demonstrate his skills, Rabban was sure he would be the next Baron Harkonnen instead of his brother. He had received confirmation from Lupar that the deadly invasive mite had been released on Caladan, and in a few weeks, it would spread throughout the fishery operations. Soon, all the moonfish would die off, and the entire Atreides industry would collapse. Surely it was enough to impress the Baron.

Before leaving Giedi Prime, his uncle had told them

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