Dune полностью

Teg froze that thought as though he had applied the dive brakes in a ’thopter, letting his mind float free while he sorted other considerations.

Not in this universe.

The pattern took shape. Wealth. Gammu assumed a new role in his Mentat computations. Gammu had been gutted long ago by the Harkonnens, abandoned as a festering carcass, which the Danians had restored. There was a time, though, when even Gammu’s hopes were gone. Without hopes there had not even been dreams. Climbing from that cesspool, the population had employed only the basest pragmatism. If it works, it is good.

Wealth.

In his first survey of Gammu he had noted the numbers of banking houses. They were even marked, some of them, as Bene Gesserit–safe. Gammu served as the fulcrum for manipulation of enormous wealth. The bank he had visited to study its use as an emergency contact came back fully into his Mentat awareness. He had realized at once that the place did not confine itself to purely planetary business. It was a bankers’ bank.

Not just wealth but WEALTH.

A Prime Pattern development did not come into Teg’s mind but he had enough for a Testing Projection. Wealth not of this universe. People from the Scattering.

All of this Mentat sorting had taken only a few seconds. Having reached a testing point, Teg set himself loose-of-muscle and nerve, glanced once at Taraza and strode across to the concealed entry. He noted that Taraza gave no sign of alarm at his movements. Whipping aside the hangings, Teg confronted a man almost as tall as himself: military-style clothing with crossed spears at the collar tabs. The face was heavy, the jaws wide; green eyes. A look of surprised alertness, one hand poised above a pocket that bulged obviously with a weapon.

Teg smiled at the man, let the hangings fall and returned to Taraza.

“We are being observed by people from the Scattering,” he said.

Taraza relaxed. Teg’s performance had been memorable.

The hangings swished aside. The tall stranger entered and stopped about two paces from Teg. A glacial expression of anger gripped his features.

“I warned you not to tell him!” The voice was a grating baritone with an accent new to Teg.

“And I warned you about the powers of this Mentat Bashar,” Taraza said. A look of loathing flashed across her features.

The man subsided and a subtle look of fear came over his face. “Honored Matre, I—”

“Don’t you dare call me that!” Taraza’s body tensed in a fighting posture that Teg had never before seen her display.

The man inclined his head slightly. “Dear lady, you do not control the situation here. I must remind you that my orders—”

Teg had heard enough. “Through me, she does control here,” he said. “Before coming here I set certain protective measures in motion. This . . .” he glanced around him and returned his attention to the intruder, whose face now bore a wary expression “...is not a no-ship. Two of our no-ship monitors have you in their sights at this moment.”

“You would not survive!” the man barked.

Teg smiled amiably. “No one on this ship would survive.” He clenched his jaw to key the nerve signal and activate the tiny pulsetimer in his skull. It played its graphic signals against his visual centers. “And you don’t have much time in which to make a decision.”

“Tell him how you knew to do this,” Taraza said.

“The Mother Superior and I have our own private means of communication,” Teg said. “But further than that, there was no need for her to warn me. Her summons was enough. The Mother Superior on a Guild Transport at a time like this? Impossible!”

“Impasse,” the man growled.

“Perhaps,” Teg said. “But neither Guild nor Ix will risk a total and all-out attack by Bene Gesserit forces under the command of a leader trained by me. I refer to the Bashar Burzmali. Your support has just dissolved and vanished.”

“I told him nothing of this,” Taraza said. “You have just witnessed the performance of a Mentat Bashar, which I doubt could be equaled in your universe. Think of that if you consider going against Burzmali, a man trained by this Mentat.”

The intruder looked from Taraza to Teg and back to Taraza.

“This is the way out of our seeming impasse,” Teg said. “The Mother Superior Taraza and her entourage leave with me. You must decide immediately. Time is running out.”

“You’re bluffing.” There was no force in the words.

Teg faced Taraza and bowed. “It has been a great honor to serve you, Reverend Mother Superior. I bid you farewell.”

“Perhaps death will not part us,” Taraza said. It was the traditional farewell of a Reverend Mother to a Sister-equal.

“Go!” The heavy-featured man dashed to the corridor hatchway and flung it open, revealing two Ixian guards, looks of surprise on their faces. His voice hoarse, the man ordered: “Take them to their lighter.”