"Herbert, Brian & Anderson, Kevin J. - Dune - House Corrino" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank)

prepared it properly. The intricately decorated cup was carefully painted, one of a kind, so delicate it seemed to be made of eggshell. Each cup Shaddam used was destroyed after he drank from it, so that no one else could have the privilege of using the same china.

"Sire?" Ridondo stared at the Emperor with a disconcerting expression is he rattled off complex names without consulting notes. The Chamber-ain, while not a Mentat, had a formidable natural memory, enabling him :o keep track of the numerous details of the Imperial workday. "A newly irrived visitor has requested an immediate audience with you." "They always say that. What House does he represent?" "He is not from the Landsraad, Sire. Nor is he an official from CHOAM or the Guild."

Shaddam made a rude noise. "Then your decision is obvious, Chamber' lin. I cannot waste my time with commoners."

"He is ... not exactly a commoner, Sire. His name is Liet-Kynes, and e comes from Arrakis."

Shaddam was irritated at the audacity of any man who would assume tat he could simply walk in and expect an audience with the Emperor of a [illion Worlds. "If I wish to speak with one of the desert rabble, I will mmon him."

"He is your Imperial Planetologist, Sire. Your father appointed his fa-er to investigate spice on Arrakis. I believe numerous reports have been bmitted." :

The Emperor yawned. "All of them boring, as I recall." Now he remem-red the eccentric Pardot Kynes, who had spent much of his life on rakis, shirking his duties and going native, preferring dust and heat to : splendor of Kaitain. "I have lost interest in deserts." Especially now that ' al is at hand.

"I understand your reservations about him, Sire, but Kynes could back and rile up the desert workers. Who knows what influence he with them? They might decide to stage an immediate general strike, reasing spice production and forcing Baron Harkonnen to crack ra. The Baron would then request Sardaukar reinforcements, and from

Shaddam raised his well'manicured hand. "Enough! I see your point." : Chamberlain always cycled through more consequences than an Deror needed to hear. "Let him in. But clean the dirt off of him first."

Lm H? Tff immenSг Imperial Palace Щpressive, but he was

arThan A3 h ** *FЩ*Щ ^^ C░"ld be more pi lar than the sheer vastness of Dune. He had stood face-to-face with

DUNE: HOUSE CORRINO 9

monster Coriolis storms. He had ridden great sandworms. He had watched flickers of plant life thrive in the most inhospitable conditions.

A man sitting on a chair, however expensive, could not match any of that.

His skin felt oily from the lotion the attendants had smeared all over it. His hair smelled of flowery perfumes, and his body stank with unnatural deodorizers. According to Fremen wisdom, sand cleansed the body and the mind. Once he returned from Kaitain, Kynes intended to roll naked on a dune and stand out in the biting wind just to feel truly clean again.

Because he insisted on wearing his sophisticated stillsuit, the garment had been dismantled in a thorough search for concealed weapons and listening devices. The components had been scrubbed and lubricated, the carefully treated surfaces coated with strange chemicals, before the security men let him have it back. Kynes doubted the vital piece of desert equipment would ever function properly again, and he would have to discard it. Such a waste.

But since he was the son of the great prophet Pardot Kynes, Fremen would line up to the horizon for the honor of making a new garment for him. After all, they shared one goal: the welfare of Dune. But only Kynes could approach the Emperor and make the necessary demands.

These Imperial men understand so little.

Liet's mottled tan cape flowed behind him as he marched forward. On Kaitain it appeared to be no more than coarse cloth, but he wore it like a royal mantle.

The Chamberlain announced his name curtly, as if offended that the Planetologist did not carry sufficient noble or political titles. Kynes clomped across the floor in temag boots, not bothering to walk with grace. He came to a stop in front of the dais and spoke boldly, without bowing. "Emperor Shaddam, I must speak to you of spice and of Arrakis."

Courtiers gasped at his forthrightness. The Emperor stiffened, obviously offended. "You are bold, Planetologist. Foolishly so. Do you assume I know nothing of matters so vital to my Imperium?"

"I assume, Sire, that you have been given false information by the Harkonnens, propaganda to hide their true activities from you."

Shaddam raised a reddish eyebrow and leaned forward, his full attention now focused on the Planetologist.

Kynes continued, "The Harkonnens are wild dogs tearing at the desert. They exploit the native people. Casualty rates on spice crawlers are higher even than in the slave pits on Poritrin or Giedi Prime. I have sent you many reports detailing such atrocities, and my father before me did the same. I have also delivered a long-term plan detailing how plantings of grass and desert scrub brush could reclaim much of the surface area of DuneЧArrakis, I meanЧfor human habitation." He paused a beat. "I can

hundreds of plans and contingencies in an instant, which made him vital to the mission. Gurney was good at slipping into places where he didn't belong and escaping under the direst of circumstances. These two might be able to succeed where all others had failed. . . .