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Miles Teg had been his mentor and his student, and Sheeana . . . ah, Sheeana. They had been lovers and sexual opponents. She had cured him and saved him, so of course he cared for her. He had tried to protect himself by denying it, but she hadn't believed him, and he hadn't believed himself. Both knew they had a bond unlike any other, different from the one he and Murbella had imposed upon one another.
As he studied the landscape below, it seemed to call to him. Many cities were discernible in the northern and southern forested latitudes. He felt he should be down there facing any possible dangers with the others, not stuck aboard the Ithaca, forced to remain safe and out of sight.
How long am I supposed to wait?
When he was Swordmaster of House Atreides he would never have hesitated. If it had been young Paul Atreides under threat, Duncan would have leapt in to fight for him, ignoring the intangible threat of the old man and woman. As the witches said in their oft-quoted Litany, I will face my fear. And it was about time he did so.
He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the spreading desert that looked like a seeping knife wound across the continent. "I will not ignore this." Duncan summoned Thufir Hawat as well as Garimi, who had recently returned to the no-ship with all of her flying craft after reloading the Ithaca's stores.
Duncan stood when they arrived. "We are going to rescue the landing party," he announced, "and we're going to do it now. I don't know what kind of military force those people have down there, but we'll stand against it if the Bashar is in trouble."
Thufir's eyes brightened and his face flushed. "I'll pilot one of the ships."
Duncan remained stern. "No, you will follow my orders."
Garimi was taken aback by Duncan's bold comment, but nodded as she heard him rebuke Thufir. "Do you have instructions for us before we depart? Shall I command the mission?"
"No--I will do it personally." Before either could argue with him, Duncan strode toward the lift, and they were forced to follow him. "I'm sick of hiding. My plan has been to run and remain unobtrusive, staying one step ahead of that strange net. But in doing so, I've left too much of myself behind. I am Duncan Idaho." He raised his voice as they entered the lift. "I was Swordmaster of House Atreides and consort of St. Alia of the Knife. I acted as advisor and companion to the God Emperor. If the Enemy is out there, I won't leave the rest of humanity to face it themselves. If Sheeana and the Bashar need my help, then I'm going to help."
Thufir stiffened, then allowed himself a pleased smile. "You should have left the Ithaca long ago, Duncan. I don't see what you've accomplished by staying here. The no-field hasn't exactly offered perfect protection."
Garimi seemed pleased by Duncan's attitude. "My recovery teams took a good look at that planet down there, and it seems a fine place to settle. Does that mean you'll stop opposing my efforts and let us form a colony at last?"
The lift doors closed, and the group began to drop toward the hangar decks where the many ships were being refueled. "That remains to be seen."
TEG BIDED HIS time in the camp long after Stilgar and Liet flew off into the early morning. By now, Duncan would certainly have drawn the obvious conclusions.
"Do you think they'll kill us, after all?" Sheeana's tone was surprisingly matter-of-fact, as if she had accepted the inevitable.
"Maybe just you. You're the one they blame." He spoke without humor. Though they were allowed to sit on the ground outside, their captors still watched them closely.
She sipped from a small cup of water that had been provided. "Is that a joke?"
"A distraction." Teg glanced up at the sky. "We have to trust Duncan to decide on the correct response."
"Maybe he thinks we can handle this ourselves. Duncan has great confidence in our independent abilities."
"As do I. Should it become necessary, I could slaughter every one of these people." He chose the word intentionally. Slaughter. As he had done with the Honored Matres in their fortress on Gammu. "And it would take me no longer than the blink of an eye. You know it."
Sheeana had seen him move against the Handlers, helping her, Thufir, and the Rabbi escape, and she had also seen how much that brief burst of energy had drained him. "Yes, I know, Miles. And I pray it doesn't become necessary."
Off in the distance they heard the whining drone of the small flyer returning from the desert. Teg's sharply attuned ears recognized its sputtering engine sound. The villagers gathered at the packed landing zone, anxious to receive the hunting party. First, two specks appeared in the sky, flying low; then they were joined by many more dots, like a dispersed flock of migrating birds. The drone grew to a roar.
Teg shaded his eyes, identifying many of the flying craft. "Mining shuttles and lighters from the no-ship. So this is how Duncan plans to rescue us. He's trying to impress them. It appears he sent everything we have."
"We certainly have superior firepower. Duncan could have taken the direct method and rescued us by force of arms."
Watching the ships come closer, Teg smiled. "He's smarter than that. Like me, he wants to avoid bloodshed, especially in a conflict he doesn't entirely understand." Did I teach him that lesson, or did he teach me? As the Bashar reflected on their past lives, he didn't know the answer.
More than forty craft landed together in a flat, open space at the outskirts of the village. They weren't war vessels or armored attack ships, though some had defensive weapons. The Bashar stepped with Sheeana away from the tents, to face the largest mining shuttle. No one tried to stop them; the people were too awed by what they saw.
It surprised Teg to see Duncan Idaho himself march down the ramp of the lead craft, wearing his traditional House Atreides uniform, complete with polished boots and the starburst insignia of his rank. If the Qelsans had been gone from the Old Empire for fifteen centuries, they weren't likely to recognize any of the symbols, but Teg thought the uniform gave his friend a distinguished aura of command, and undoubtedly provided self-assurance.
Duncan swept his gaze across the confused villagers, finally spotting Teg and Sheeana. The relief on his face was obvious as he made his way to them. "You're still alive. And unhurt?"
"Stuka isn't," Sheeana said with an edge of bitterness.
"You shouldn't have left the no-ship," Teg said. "You're vulnerable now, visible to the searchers and their wide net."
"Let them find me." Duncan appeared stony, as if he had reached an inescapable conclusion. "This endless chase and hiding accomplishes nothing. I can't defeat the Enemy unless I confront them."
Sheeana glanced nervously at the sky, as if expecting the old man and woman to appear suddenly. "Garimi could have led the attack, or even Thufir. Instead, you let yourself be swayed by your emotions."
"I factored them in when I made my correct decision." Duncan's face flush
ed, as if he were hiding the real answer, and he rushed ahead with an explanation. "By comline, I spoke with Stilgar and Liet-Kynes aboard the flyer. We intercepted them out in the desert, so I have some inkling of what's going on here. I know how they killed Stuka--and why."
"And you're surprised to see me alive?" Sheeana asked. "Grateful, too, I hope."
Teg interrupted. "The death of Stuka was a tragic overreaction. These people made assumptions about us."
Nodding, Duncan said, "Yes, Miles. And if I had made an overzealous response with superior firepower, that would have caused many more deaths and a much greater tragedy. In one of my earlier lives I might have done exactly that, but I only needed to think about what you would have done."
Stilgar and Liet emerged with the commandos from the tanker. The two young gholas displayed a hardness to them now, and new life behind their eyes. The Fremen naib and the planetologist had found something on Qelso that reenergized them and transported them to other times.
Teg understood what all the gholas had gone through since recovering their memories. They had been sheltered and comfortable aboard the Ithaca, forced to content themselves with reading about their pasts and watching the sandworms in the cargo hold, as if they were specimens in a zoo. But these gholas could remember the real Arrakis. The lives of Stilgar and Kynes had not been safer or more comfortable in the tumultuous old days, but there had been a certain sharp definition to who they were.
Others continued to emerge from the landed vessels: Thufir, Garimi and more than a dozen Sisters, muscular male Bene Gesserit workers, second-generation children born aboard the no-ship setting foot on a real planet for the very first time in their lives. Five of the Rabbi's followers stood in bright sunlight, looking around in wonder at the landscape, at the open spaces. Presently the old man himself emerged, blinking his bespectacled, owlish eyes.
Var looked admiringly at the mining shuttles and lighters, at his new companions Stilgar and Liet. He raised his chin. Apparently, Duncan had also spoken with the village leader at length during their flight back from the desert. "Duncan Idaho, you know what trials we face here, what we've been driven to do. We are the only ones who'll stand against the death of this planet. We did not bring the desert here. You have no right to condemn us."
