Mentats of Dune

Esther-Cano led Sister Woodra, who had offered her Truthsayer services to Manford Torondo. Did the Butlerian leader suspect that Salvador might lie to him? Roderick stiffened at the thought. He would have to make sure his brother was careful about whatever he said, whatever he promised.…

Sister Woodra looked around the vaulted chamber, nodded, and sent an all-clear signal. With a buzz of activity, Manford Torondo entered, riding on the shoulders of his Swordmaster.

Roderick narrowed his gaze while remaining close to the Emperor. He kept his hand protectively near a hidden weapon. Roderick had always disliked the fanatics, but after Nantha’s death, he felt deep revulsion, resentment, and distrust toward Manford Torondo.

Anari Idaho approached the throne, carrying Manford as if she were a beast of burden. Sister Woodra stepped away from Esther-Cano and joined the Butlerian delegation, apparently to demonstrate where her loyalties lay.

Salvador tried to hide his nervousness with formality. “Greetings, Leader Torondo.” His voice was steady and dignified, showing hardly any slur from the effects of alcohol and spice. “Your arrival is unexpected.” He cleared his throat. “How can I be of assistance to you, my good friend?”

Roderick felt a burn of anger at these words. Friend?

“Friendship has nothing to do with my visit.” Manford’s face showed more than a little irritation. He glanced around in displeasure. “Hors d’oeuvres? And wine? Do you think we are here for a party?”

Roderick tensed at the blatant disrespect, but Salvador was quick to sound ridiculously conciliatory. “We have more than wine and treats, of course. We simply wanted to extend courtesy. If this is not enough, a banquet in your honor can be arranged.”

“There will be no rampage festival this time,” Roderick broke in, raising his voice. “We have security teams in place. Crowds of your followers will be vigorously dispersed if you attempt to incite them to violence.”

“Your security teams can try to do so.…” Anari Idaho muttered.

From his place on her shoulders, Manford turned to look at the Corrino Prince. “Why would I incite my followers to violence? I abhor u

Roderick wanted to rage at him, My daughter’s death was not an inconvenience!

But the Butlerian leader had already turned his attention back to Salvador. “I’m not hungry, Sire — except for action. Not long ago, you disbanded the poisonous Sisterhood school on Rossak because they conspired against you. Now you must do the same to Venport Holdings. Josef Venport is creating monsters to navigate his ships, corrupting the human form and the human mind. His ships use computers, too — we have proof, because we captured a foldspace vessel he sent to Baridge.”

Roderick’s eyes widened. Concrete evidence that VenHold ships used computers in their navigation systems? The ba

The Swordmaster lifted her chin. “I saw it with my own eyes.”

Manford added, “The ship was unfortunately lost in transit, as so many have been.”

Salvador sat up on the throne. “Then you have no proof.”

“We went to Arrakis to uncover Directeur Venport’s schemes — and his thugs tried to have me killed.” The Butlerian leader gestured to Sister Woodra, who removed a small holoprojector from her robes. Roderick frowned; no device should have slipped past security.

Woodra fumbled with the recording crystal, installed it in the player, and activated the image. She made an adjustment and projected a series of blurred images of dusty streets, a yellow sun and sky, people ru

“On the streets of Arrakis City,” Manford said, “a man in the crowd shot a crude projectile pistol. I was his intended target.”

The next image showed what appeared to be Manford Torondo dead, with half of his skull blown away. His body lay sprawled on the floor of a fire-illuminated room. Anari Idaho looked furious to see the images again.

“I narrowly escaped with my own life.”

Emperor Salvador regarded the images with faint amusement. “You seem to have recovered rather well.” Without being told, Roderick realized the victim must have been the body double Manford used for some of his public appearances.

Manford lowered his voice to a growl. “The assassin was convinced he had hit the mark. Josef Venport ordered my murder — I know it!”

“I believe you’ve called for his death as well,” Roderick pointed out. “You reap what you sow. As I understand it, Venport barely escaped with his life when your ships attacked the Thonaris shipyards. And your followers have shown a great capacity for bloodshed. Perhaps Directeur Venport should be the one here asking for our protection?”

Salvador added, “I wouldn’t put too much stock in the attack. Arrakis is a rugged, dangerous world, and that city is not a place for civilized men. People are murdered there every day. How do you know it wasn’t just a random act of violence?”

“Because I know. I demand that you condemn Venport for this act, just as you must condemn him for the continued use of thinking machines. His crimes are inexcusable. The penalty must be death.”

Salvador looked to his brother for help, and Roderick raised his voice. “You demand? Leader Torondo, you do not dictate Imperial policy.”

“And you do? You are the Prince, not the Emperor.” He obviously intended for his comment to sting more than it did.

Emperor Salvador looked irritated. “What am I to do about this? The squabble is between you and Directeur Venport — I wish you wouldn’t put me in the middle of it.”

Manford scowled. “If you had the moral courage to choose the proper side, you would not be in the middle. Venport Holdings has been strangling any world that takes our pledge of purity. Some of the faithful are weakening, but I’ve commanded that all must renew their oaths in no uncertain terms.”

Holding on to Anari’s shoulders, Manford leaned forward, staring at the Emperor. “My followers can fight with their faith, and we will win. But it is not enough — we need your help, Sire. As the ruler of the Imperium, you have a weapon that can hurt him financially. Strike him where he is vulnerable — and enrich yourself at the same time.”

Salvador blinked at Roderick. “What does he mean? What financial weapon do we have?”

The Swordmaster stepped closer to the dais, and Manford ignored Roderick. “Economics. All he cares about is profit, and Venport’s key vulnerability is spice! Combined Mercantiles is just a front for Venport Holdings. He set up a widespread network of melange harvesting and distribution, created his Navigators by saturating them with spice. And he has addicted a large portion of the Imperium, through which he can control populations.”

Salvador looked away, his eyes frantic. “My Truthsayer recently made the same claim.”

Manford said, “As the Emperor, how do you allow one man to wield so much power?”

Roderick clenched his jaw, muttered, “We could ask the same question of you, Leader Torondo.…”

Sister Woodra crept forward, stood on her tiptoes, and whispered to Manford. The Butlerian leader nodded. “You recently a

Salvador frowned as he considered. “I consume spice myself, for my own health. As do many of my subjects, whose supplies I do not want cut off. That would increase discontent. There could be riots in the streets.”