Arrakeen, Arrakis, Friday Afternoon
The throne room was less crowded than usual. The general perception was that the matter had little relevance to other, more important events, and Leto found this irritating. Cutting off the Spice flow to the remote planetary system known as the Cerevnas, at least to the level where they could do little more than survive, should be seen as a warning sign of more to come. Of course the members of the court were aware of that, but no one had yet been forced to take the blame for the recent assassination, and the uncertainty of who would go down for this would have more imminent consequences.
The Jihad had never reached as far as to that system, ignoring the planet and two moons which were inhabited. The mining operations on the moons, which had been the reason behind the colony in the first place, were no longer profitable, and the planet Cerevna II was approaching an ice age. House Hedal, which had previously ruled both planet and moons, had come to an end when both the Count and his sisters had left no offspring to inherit them, thus staring a civil war between the local nobility, further weakening them all. They, or the colony itself, had no political relevance in themselves, but isolating a remote world, along with a few others, would in about half a millennia have created a culture not yet seen.
Now the younger son of the victor of that civil war stood before the throne. While frightened, he had enough training not to make his fear embarrassingly obvious. He was young, about twenty, and his presence was so far the only thing about this that amused Leto apart from the whole experiment in itself.
The details of the Golden Path were sometimes unexpected. Prescience showed the key turning points, including those that seemed of no importance but would set of a sequence of events unseen by others. Leto had not predicted this visitor, and so he offered the possibility of a pleasantly distracting game.
”I am Rikov of House Aquim,” he began.
So, they are House Aquim now, Leto noted, his face expressionless.
”From Cerevna II. We are facing an ice age.”
That was such a poor beginning that Leto looked away tapping a finger at the armrest.
”You must know we are aware of that,” Irulan replied cooly. She knew Leto well enough to reply when he didn’t even bother to respond.
”Forgive me, my Lady. My Lord.” Now he couldn’t hold back a tremble in his voice. ”I just meant…”
Leto looked up. ”You came here to beg for the Spice quotas to your world to be lifted. They were imposed by and Imperial decree. With the decrease of Spice production we can no longer support every remote corner of the Imperium to the extent that was previously possible.” There was irritation in his voice, but it wasn’t entirely honest, just like the official explanations wasn’t. To create a new culture, placing a prophet in its midst could be an advantage, and a prophet was best created from the innocent and easily malleable. How interesting that such a perfect tool had just presented himself.
”You are wasting my time.” Which Leto had been quite aware of, had the official reason been the true one. Not even the court believed that it was.
By this time, the Cerevnan had turned quite pale. Leto continued: ”But I am no tyrant.” Yes, the thought he was being funny. Did anyone else think he was being funny? ”I will listen to you, once you have formulated a better explanation why I should. Take your time.” He raised an eyebrow and made a slight gesture with his head, a signal for the young man to leave the throne room. As expected, this expression failed to communicate its message to the intended recipient. It wasn’t until Rikov Aquim noticed the snickering among the courtiers that he turned and fled the hall.
When Leto later returned to his private quarters, Irulan accompanied him. ”What are your plans for the poor boy?”
”Don’t you think he would make a perfect messenger?” Leto said cheerfully. ”The Golden Path needs its missionaries after all, in a form suitable for its recipients. Soon they will have little to trust except his word.”
”He isn’t too honest? Or honest enough to make a good believer?”
Leto smiled at his aunt. ”The latter, I believe. Honest enough to want to be the bringer of truth to those whom he perceive as faithless.”
Irulan shot him that smile. ”How long will you keep him waiting?”
”Long enough. I’m considering going to Fandom for Homecoming. Hania wants to go too.”
They stopped at a crossing of corridors. ”May I suggest you tell her she can’t go until she has finished her essay?”
”Oh, I will.”
They both knew, as did Hania, that he would let her go whether she had or not.
[Can be open for Ghanima, or for phonecalls in SP.]
The Jihad had never reached as far as to that system, ignoring the planet and two moons which were inhabited. The mining operations on the moons, which had been the reason behind the colony in the first place, were no longer profitable, and the planet Cerevna II was approaching an ice age. House Hedal, which had previously ruled both planet and moons, had come to an end when both the Count and his sisters had left no offspring to inherit them, thus staring a civil war between the local nobility, further weakening them all. They, or the colony itself, had no political relevance in themselves, but isolating a remote world, along with a few others, would in about half a millennia have created a culture not yet seen.
Now the younger son of the victor of that civil war stood before the throne. While frightened, he had enough training not to make his fear embarrassingly obvious. He was young, about twenty, and his presence was so far the only thing about this that amused Leto apart from the whole experiment in itself.
The details of the Golden Path were sometimes unexpected. Prescience showed the key turning points, including those that seemed of no importance but would set of a sequence of events unseen by others. Leto had not predicted this visitor, and so he offered the possibility of a pleasantly distracting game.
”I am Rikov of House Aquim,” he began.
So, they are House Aquim now, Leto noted, his face expressionless.
”From Cerevna II. We are facing an ice age.”
That was such a poor beginning that Leto looked away tapping a finger at the armrest.
”You must know we are aware of that,” Irulan replied cooly. She knew Leto well enough to reply when he didn’t even bother to respond.
”Forgive me, my Lady. My Lord.” Now he couldn’t hold back a tremble in his voice. ”I just meant…”
Leto looked up. ”You came here to beg for the Spice quotas to your world to be lifted. They were imposed by and Imperial decree. With the decrease of Spice production we can no longer support every remote corner of the Imperium to the extent that was previously possible.” There was irritation in his voice, but it wasn’t entirely honest, just like the official explanations wasn’t. To create a new culture, placing a prophet in its midst could be an advantage, and a prophet was best created from the innocent and easily malleable. How interesting that such a perfect tool had just presented himself.
”You are wasting my time.” Which Leto had been quite aware of, had the official reason been the true one. Not even the court believed that it was.
By this time, the Cerevnan had turned quite pale. Leto continued: ”But I am no tyrant.” Yes, the thought he was being funny. Did anyone else think he was being funny? ”I will listen to you, once you have formulated a better explanation why I should. Take your time.” He raised an eyebrow and made a slight gesture with his head, a signal for the young man to leave the throne room. As expected, this expression failed to communicate its message to the intended recipient. It wasn’t until Rikov Aquim noticed the snickering among the courtiers that he turned and fled the hall.
When Leto later returned to his private quarters, Irulan accompanied him. ”What are your plans for the poor boy?”
”Don’t you think he would make a perfect messenger?” Leto said cheerfully. ”The Golden Path needs its missionaries after all, in a form suitable for its recipients. Soon they will have little to trust except his word.”
”He isn’t too honest? Or honest enough to make a good believer?”
Leto smiled at his aunt. ”The latter, I believe. Honest enough to want to be the bringer of truth to those whom he perceive as faithless.”
Irulan shot him that smile. ”How long will you keep him waiting?”
”Long enough. I’m considering going to Fandom for Homecoming. Hania wants to go too.”
They stopped at a crossing of corridors. ”May I suggest you tell her she can’t go until she has finished her essay?”
”Oh, I will.”
They both knew, as did Hania, that he would let her go whether she had or not.
[Can be open for Ghanima, or for phonecalls in SP.]