Seeing his tight grip, Willem laughed as he shouted back. “Uncle Shander let Orry tinker with the engine compartment, making a few crackpot enhancements.”
From the cabin, Orry yelled at his brother, “They’re not crackpot modifications! You’ve seen them work.”
Vor knew about Caladan’s large sea animals — some predators, others passive. “Speed is always a good thing to have, when you need it.”
Orry pushed the controls forward, and Vor straightened, then laughed aloud as he shared the exhilaration with both young men. The bow lifted off the water, and spray flew like a rain shower all around them.
Willem said, “We don’t usually go this fast, so he must be showing off — maybe even trying to scare you.”
Vorian grinned. “I’ve told you about my record in the Jihad. Only a fool says he’s never scared — but it’ll take more than a fast boat to worry me as long as the engines can take it.” He watched Orry at the controls. “We don’t want to break down out here.”
Willem came closer so he didn’t have to shout over the roar of the wind and engines. “I could ask him to slow down, but he wouldn’t pay attention. I told him to slow down with his fiancée, too — see how well he listens? Now we’ve got a wedding in a few weeks.”
“I look forward to meeting her,” Vor said, and then felt a stuttering vibration in the hull. The engines sputtered; first one went off, then the other, and the boat coasted along in sudden silence. Orry tried to restart the engines, but they only made disturbing clinking noises.
Red-faced, Orry emerged from the cabin and opened a cooler-locker. “Time to stop for lunch anyway.” He handed out packets of sliced meats and cheese, which the three ate as the boat drifted on the open sea. After they finished, the two brothers each took toolkits and climbed into the cramped engine compartment while Vor remained on deck to watch the water. He listened to the clanking tools and the young men discussing what could be wrong, replacing parts, arguing at times, and laughing.
On deck, Vor saw the rolling curve of a large marine animal that surfaced not far off, then descended. Moments later, the back of another creature rolled through the water, extending a triangular fin the size of a warehouse door, before gliding back beneath the surface. Vor didn’t recognize the species.
He called down into the engine compartment, “We have visitors — several animals. Big ones.”
Willem and Orry climbed back on deck, saw the large humps on either side of the stranded boat. “Not good,” Willem said. “That’s all one animal — an Alada sea snake, the largest I’ve ever seen.”
“They usually stay deep.” Orry ran inside the cabin and returned with three rifles. “I’ve heard they can drag down whole boats.”
“Let’s hope that’s not true.” Vor took one of the rifles from Orry, and Willem took another. As they watched the curves of the dark sea snake ripple up and down, part of the beast’s back lifted to buffet the boat, and Willem fired two rounds at it.
Puffs of blood spurted from the thick hide, and the serpent’s body flinched away, then struck the hull again more aggressively. Off the port side, Vor saw the monster’s head surface — it seemed impossibly far away to be part of the same body. He fired at it several times, but the animal snapped its plated head back, and the shots missed.
The serpent collided with the boat and nearly capsized it, but the extended stabilizers kept the vessel afloat. The beast then curved around, its head cutting a wake as it churned closer. Smelling the fishy stench of the creature, Vor continued to fire the rifle, hitting it this time, but not deterring the beast. Orry and Willem also peppered the sea snake with bullets. The serpent recoiled, but still circled the boat.
Vor heard a distant buzz in the sky and saw two aircraft approaching. Willem looked at his brother. “You called in the Air Patrol? We could have fixed the boat ourselves.”
Orry seemed embarrassed. “I thought I’d give the search-and-rescue some practice. Besides, we don’t have the parts we need for the fuel system.”
The wounded sea snake lunged at the boat again, ramming the hull with its armored head. Vor heard wood splintering. “Put your pride away. I’m glad they’re here.”
The planes buzzed overhead and dropped concussion charges that made loud splashes in the water. The sea snake writhed and finally dipped beneath the waves to get away.
Feeling a wash of relief, Vor let himself grin. “Thanks for an exciting outing, boys.”
THE AIR PATROL arranged for the fishing boat to be towed into port for repairs. When Orry and Willem stepped onto the dock, they found half a dozen of their flight comrades ready with teasing remarks.
“We spotted you on the sat-screen cruising so fast that we thought you were a low-flying plane,” a young redhead said. “We decided the pilot was insane — and that’s how we knew it must be Orry Atreides.”
“Didn’t know if we’d have to shoot you down or rescue you,” said another man.
“Glad you helped drive that sea snake away,” Willem said. “Though we could have handled it on our own.”
“Yes,” Vor said. “Given a few months we probably could have paddled or drifted back to the coast.” Everyone in the group laughed.
He saw a pretty young blonde hurrying toward them with a bright smile and a gleam in her eyes — her gaze was directed entirely at Orry. She had a hypnotic way of moving, as if she had mastered the technique of drifting over the ground.
Orry lit up and pushed his way past his comrades to greet her. The others gave knowing smiles and lifted their eyebrows. She rushed forward to hug the young man. “I’m so glad you’re safe. I was worried about you!”
Willem just rolled his eyes.
Orry grabbed her arm and pulled her toward Vor. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He seemed proud and love-struck, like a man showing off a great prize. “This is Vorian Atreides, my … distant relative.” Vor thought her face looked vaguely familiar, though he knew he had never seen her before. “And this is my fiancée, Tula. Tula Veil.”
Tula was indeed beautiful, but her eyes had an odd intensity when she looked at him. She extended her hand, and her grip was cold. “Vorian Atreides — I am very glad to meet you.”
Chapter 62 (Inflexible convictions are powerful things)
Inflexible convictions are powerful things. But are they a suit of armor or a prison cell? A weapon or a weakness?
— EMPEROR JULES CORRINO, strategic briefing on unrest in the former Unallied Planets
Gilbertus knew the school’s situation would only grow more dangerous by the day. The Butlerians had proven themselves to be volatile and prone to violence, and with his refusal to take the oath, he had just jabbed them with a sharp stick.
Nevertheless, he approached the crisis with cool logic. An hour after the Butlerian delegation left in a huff, he called the entire student body and addressed them in the main lecture hall. This was the same auditorium where he had dissected thinking-machine brains and human brains; here, he had also debated the merits of computers while some students listened in horror. That debate had provoked an extreme reaction from the Butlerians, who forced him to retract his statements and destroy all robot specimens stored at the school.
All of the robot specimens they knew about.
“Many people on Lampadas have already sworn the new Butlerian oath without giving it a second thought, and they are welcome to do so,” Gilbertus said to the students in the auditorium. “But I expect you to be deep thinkers and understand the nuances involved.” He paced in front of them. “I comprehend why Manford feels the need for such an oath, but I make an important distinction, not merely an esoteric one. An oath should neither be reactionary, nor taken in haste. A commitment is a serious matter.”