bh.houseatreides-第75部分

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sand　as　the　bull　dashed　past。
　For　a　moment　Paulus　was　weaponless。　He　scrambled　backward　and　snatched　for　the　banderilla　on　the　ground。　Turning　his　back　on　the　bull；　he　listened　for　it　to　grind　to　a　stop；　spin　around；　and　e　back　　but　as　he　bent　over　to　retrieve　his　weapon；　the　huge　bull　was　suddenly　there　with　impossible　speed；　horns　lowered。
　The　Duke　scrambled　to　one　side；　trying　to　get　out　of　the　way；　but　the　bull　was　already　within　his　safety　zone；　ducking　under　the　partial　shield　and　ramming　home。　Its　long；　curved　horns　gouged　deep　into　the　Duke's　back；　breaking　through　his　ribs　and　into　his　lungs　and　heart。
　The　bull　roared　with　triumph。　To　the　horror　of　the　crowd；　it　lifted　Paulus　up；　thrashing　him　from　side　to　side。　Blood　sprayed　on　the　sand；　red　droplets　slowed　by　the　concave　surface　of　the　small　shield。　The　doomed　Duke　flailed　and　twitched；　impaled　on　the　forest　of　horns。
　The　audience　fell　deathly　silent。
　Within　seconds；　Thufir　Hawat　and　the　Atreides　guards　surged　out　onto　the　field；　their　lasguns　cutting　the　rampaging　Salusan　bull　into　piles　of　smoking　meat。　The　creature's　own　momentum　caused　pieces　of　the　carcass　to　fly　apart　in　different　directions。　The　decapitated　but　otherwise　intact　head　thumped　onto　the　ground。
　The　Duke's　body　pirouetted　in　the　air　and　landed　on　its　back　in　the　trampled　sand。
　Up　in　the　ducal　box；　Rhombur　cried　out　in　disbelief。　Kailea　sobbed。　The　Lady　Helena　let　her　chin　sink　against　her　chest　and　wept。
　Leto　rose　to　his　feet；　all　color　draining　from　his　skin。　His　mouth　opened　and　closed；　but　he　could　find　no　words　to　express　his　utter　shock。　He　wanted　to　run　down　into　the　arena；　but　saw　from　the　mangled　condition　of　his　father　that　he　would　never　reach　him　in　time。　There　would　be　no　gasping　and　whispering　of　last　words。
　Duke　Paulus　Atreides；　this　magnificent　man　of　his　people；　was　dead。
　Deafening　wails　erupted　from　the　spectator　stands。　Leto　could　feel　the　vibration　rumbling　through　the　ducal　box。　He　couldn't　tear　his　eyes　from　his　father；　lying　broken　and　bloodied　on　the　ground；　and　he　knew　it　was　a　nightmare　vision　that　would　remain　with　him　for　the　rest　of　his　life。
　Thufir　Hawat　stood　next　to　the　fallen　Old　Duke；　but　even　a　warrior　Mentat　could　do　nothing　for　him　now。
　Oddly；　his　mother's　quiet　voice　cut　through　the　surrounding　din；　and　Leto　heard　the　words　clearly；　like　ice　picks。　〃Leto；　my　son；〃　Helena　said；　〃you　are　Duke　Atreides　now。〃
　Machine…vaccine　principle：　Every　technological　device　contains　within　it　the　tools　of　its　opposite；　and　of　its　own　destruction。
　…GIAN　KANA；
　Imperial　Patent　Czar
　It　didn't　take　the　invaders　long　to　make　permanent　changes　in　the　prosperous　underground　cities。　Many　innocent　Ixians　died　and　many　disappeared；　while　C'tair　waited　for　someone　to　find　and　kill　him。
　During　brief　sojourns　from　his　shielded　hiding　room；　C'tair　learned　that　Vernii；　the　former　capital　city　of　Ix；　had　been　renamed　Hilacia　by　the　Tleilaxu。　The　fanatical　usurpers　had　even　changed　Imperial　records　to　refer　to　the　ninth　planet　in　the　Alkaurops　system　as　Xuttuh；　rather　than　Ix。
　C'tair　wanted　to　strangle　any　Tleilaxu　he　found；　but　instead　he　developed　a　subtler　plan。
　He　dressed　like　a　low…level　worker　and　doctored　forms　to　show　that　he　had　once　been　a　minor　line　supervisor；　one　step　above　a　suboid；　who　had　watched　over　a　labor　crew　of　twelve　men。　He'd　read　enough　about　hull…plate　welding　and　sealing　so　that　he　could　claim　it　had　been　his　job。　No　one　would　expect　much　from　him。
　All　around　him；　the　Bene　Tleilax　were　gutting　his　city　and　rebuilding　it　into　a　dark　hell。
　He　abhorred　the　changes；　loathed　the　Tleilaxu　gall。　And　from　what　he　could　see；　Imperial　Sardaukar　had　actually　assisted　in　this　abomination。
　C'tair　could　do　nothing　about　it　at　the　moment；　he　had　to　bide　his　time。　He　was　alone　here：　his　father　exiled　to　Kaitain　and　afraid　to　return；　his　mother　murdered；　his　twin　brother　taken　away　by　the　Guild。　Only　he　remained　on　Ix；　like　a　rat　hiding　within　the　walls。
　But　even　rats　could　cause　significant　damage。
　Over　the　months；　C'tair　learned　to　blend　in；　to　appear　to　be　an　insignificant　and　cowed　citizen。　He　kept　his　eyes　averted；　his　hands　dirty；　his　clothes　and　hair　unkempt。　He　could　not　let　it　be　known　that　he　was　the　son　of　the　former　Ambassador　to　Kaitain；　that　he　had　faithfully　served　House　Vernius　　and　still　would；　if　he　could　find　a　way　to　do　it。　He　had　walked　freely　through　the　Grand　Palais；　had　escorted　the　Earl's　own　daughter。　Acts　that；　if　known；　would　mean　a　death　sentence　for　him。
　Above　all；　he　could　not　let　the　rabid　antitechnology　invaders　discover　his　shielded　hiding　place　or　the　devices　he　had　hoarded　there。　His　stockpile　might　just　be　the　last　hope　for　the　future　of　Ix。
　Throughout　the　grottoes　of　the　city；　C'tair　watched　signs　being　torn　down；　streets　and　districts　being　renamed；　and　the　little　gnomes　　all　men；　no　women　　occupying　huge　research　facilities　for　their　secret；　nefarious　operations。　The　streets；　walkways；　and　facilities　were　guarded　by　diligent；　thinly　disguised　Imperial　Sardaukar　or　the　invaders'　own　shape…shifting　Face　Dancers。
　Shortly　after　their　victory　was　secured；　the　Tleilaxu　Masters　had　showed　themselves　and　encouraged　the　suboid　rebels　to　vent　their　anger　on　carefully　selected　and　approved　targets。　Standing　back；　clothed　in　a　simple　workman's　jumpsuit；　C'tair　had　watched　the　smooth…skinned　laborers　cluster　around　the　facility　that　had　manufactured　the　new　self…learning　fighting　meks。
　〃House　Vernius　has　brought　this　upon　themselves！〃　screamed　a　charismatic　suboid　agitator；　almost　certainly　a　Face　Dancer　infiltrator。　〃They　would　bring　back　the　thinking　machines。　Destroy　this　place！〃
　While　the　helpless　Ixian　survivors　had　watched　in　horror；　the　suboids　smashed　the　plaz　windows　and　used　thermal　bombs　to　ignite　the　small　manufactory。　Filled　with　religious　fervor；　they　howled　and　threw　rocks。
　A　Tleilaxu　Master　on　a　hastily　erected　podium　had　bellowed　into　speakers　and　amplifiers。　〃We　are　your　new　masters；　and　we　will　make　certain　the　manufacturing　abilities　of　Ix　are　fully　in　accord　with　the　strictures　of　the　Great　Convention。〃　The　flames　continued　to　crackle；　and　some　of　the　suboids　had　cheered；　but　most　didn't　seem　to　be　listening。　〃As　soon　as　possible；　we　must　repair　this　damage　and　return　this　world　to　normal　operations　　with　better　conditions　for　the　suboids；　of　course。〃
　C'tair　had　looked　around；　watched　the　building　burn；　and　felt　sick　inside。
　〃All　Ixian　technology　must　henceforth　be　scrutinized　by　a　strict　religious　review　board；　to　assure　its　suitability。　Any　questionable　technology　will　be　scrapped。　No　one　will　ask　you　to　endanger　your　souls　by　working　on　heretical　machines。〃　More　cheering；　more　smashed　plaz；　a　few　screams。
　C'tair　had　realized；　though；　that　the　cost　of　this　takeover　would　be　enormous　for　the　Tleilaxu；　even　with　Imperial　support。　Since　Ix　was　one　of　the　major　powerhouse　economies　in　the　Imperium；　the　new　rulers　could　not　afford　to　let　the　production　lines　remain　idle。　The　Tleilaxu　would　make　a　show　of　destroying　some　of　the　questionable　products；　such　as　the　reactive　meks；　but　he　doubted　any　of　the　truly　profitable　Ixian　devices　would　be　discontinued。
　Despite　the　promises　of　the　new　masters；　the　suboids　had　been　put　back　to　work　　as　they　were　bred　to　do　　but　this　time　they　followed　only　Tleilaxu　designs　and　orders。　C'tair　realized　that；　before　long；　the　manufactories　would　begin　pouring　out　merchandise　again；　and　shiploads　of　solaris　would　flow　back　into　the　Bene　Tleilax　coffers　to　pay　them　for　this　costly　military　adventure。
　Now；　though；　the　secrecy　and　security　developed　by　generations　of　House　Vernius　would　work　against　them。　Ix　had　always　shrouded　itself　in　mystery；　so　who　would　notice　the　difference？　Once　the　paying　customers　were　satisfied　with　the　exports；　no　one　in　the　Imperium　would　much　care　about　internal　Ixian　politics。　Anyone　on　the　outside　would　forget　all　that　had　happened　here。　It　would　be　cleanly　swept　under　the　rug。
　That　must　be　what　the　Tleilaxu　were　counting　on；　C'tair　thought。　The　entire　world　of　Ix　　he　would　never　refer　to　it；　not　even　in　his　mind；　as　Xuttuh　　was　walled　off　from　the　Imperium　as　an　enigma。。。much　as　the　homeworlds　of　the　Bene　Tleilax　had　been　for　centuries。
　The　new　masters　restricted　travel　off…planet　and　imposed　curfews　with　deadly　force。　Face　Dancers　rooted　out　〃traitors〃　from　hiding　rooms　similar　to　C'tair's　and　executed　them　without　fanfare　or　ceremony。　He　saw　no　end　to　the　repression；　but　he　vowed　not　to　give　up。　This　was　his　own　world；　and　he　would　fight　for　it；　in　any　way　he　could。
　C'tair　told　no　one　his　name；　called　little　attention　to　himself　　but　he　listened；　absorbed　every　whispered　story　or　rumor；　and　he　planned。　Not　knowing　whom　to　trust；　he　assumed　everyone　was　an　informant；　either　a　Face　Dancer　or　simply　a　turncoat。　Sometimes　an　informant　was　easily　recognizable　by　the　directness　of　a　line　of　inquiry：　Where　do　you　work？　Where　do　you　live？　What　are　you　doing　on　this　street？
　But　others　were　not　so　easy　to　detect；　such　as　the　gnarled　old　woman　with　whom　he　had　initiated　a　conversation。　He'd　only　meant　to　ask　directions　to　a　work　site　where　he　had　been　assigned。　She　hadn't　sought　him　out　at　all；　except　to　appear　harmless。。。somewhat　like　a　child　with　a　grenade　in　its　pocket。
　〃Such　an　interesting　choice　of　words；〃　she'd　said；　and　he　didn't　even　remember　his　own　phrasing。　〃And　your　inflection。。。you　are　Ixian　nobility；　perhaps？〃　She　looked　meaningfully　at　some　of　the　ruined　stalactite　buildings　in　the　ceiling。
　He　had　stammered　an　answer。　〃N…no；　although　I　have　been　a　s…servant　all　my　life；　and　perhaps　I　picked　up　some　of　their　distasteful　mannerisms。　My　apologies。〃　He　had　bowed　and　departed　quickly；　without　ever　getting　directions　from　her。
　His　response　had　been　awkward　and　perhaps　incriminating；　so　he'd　thrown　away　the　clothes　he'd　been　wearing　and　hadn't　gone　down　that　narrow　street　again。　Afterward；　he　had　paid　more　attention　than　ever　before　to　masking　his　own　vocal　identity　markers。　Whenever　possible；　he　avoided　talking　to　strangers　at　all。　It　appalled　C'tair　that　so　many　opportunistic　Ixians　had　switched　allegiance　to　the　new　masters；　forgetting　House　Vernius　in　less　than　a　year。