“Lankiveil isn’t where I need to be. I realize that now. I have to find a place without memories for me … entirely without memories.” She glanced down at the baliset. “I think I’ll go to Chusuk. I have heard good things about that world…” Her voice trailed off.
Danvis stared, obviously yearning to understand what was wrong with her. He laced his fingers together.
She thought again of how handsome Orry had looked. Tula had awakened in the quietest hour, as planned, and gazed at his peaceful face as he slept, so satisfied and content. So unknowing. She had given him that happiness at least, before completing her mission. His expression had changed terribly as soon as she stabbed him in the chest—
She drove that image from her thoughts, choosing to focus instead on his handsome face, even though Valya insisted the blood was the part she should remember, in the name of House Harkonnen.
In Tula’s mind, there was no way to make vengeance a pretty picture.
15
Before long Emperor Roderick will come to his senses and beg me to restore the use of VenHold ships. Without my Navigators, the Imperium will lose too many carriers and people in foldspace; too many missions will fail. It is only a matter of time.
Now that Vorian had arranged passage on the next outbound spacefolder, they would be leaving Kepler soon. From all indications, this unobtrusive branch of his family was safe; Harkonnen operatives had made no outside inquiries or threats. No one had seen any newcomer matching Tula’s description.
He was relieved, but not surprised. His life on this isolated planet had been quiet, unremarkable, and invisible. He had meant to hide from history here for all those years. How would the Harkonnens ever learn of his family’s existence here? How would Tula know enough to come here to strike at other members of his family?
It had all seemed far-fetched. And yet Vor needed to see for himself. Ignoring the possible threat to these innocent people was not a mistake he wanted on his conscience. Now, at least, he felt reasonably sure.
He had dispatched anonymous warnings to Atreides households, including an image of the young Harkonnen murderer. Vor couldn’t reveal too many details without exposing his or Willem’s identities, but at least his extended Kepler family now knew to watch out for her. Tula would never be able to come here and do what she had done to Orry, and Vor was satisfied with that. He and Willem had succeeded.
Now they could go on the offensive.
He felt a warm wistfulness just having seen his family again, remembering happy days here. If circumstances had been different, he could have stayed here without a care for the rest of the Imperium, could have forgotten his past and vanished into obscurity. But it was time to take a more active role beyond just waiting and watching. Willem was right in wanting to hurry things up: They should be tracking down Tula, rather than merely hovering in the shadows on Kepler. Justice needed to be served.
If Tula wasn’t actively trying to eliminate Vor’s extended family, she might have fled back to the Sisterhood school and the protection of her sister Valya — in which case, he and Willem had little chance of breaching the Wallach IX defenses. Or perhaps she had returned home to the Harkonnen holdings on Lankiveil — Vor felt that was their best chance. He decided that was the next place to go.
He had spent time on Lankiveil, so he knew where to look. In a noble but clumsy attempt to salve his conscience, he had secretly saved the embittered family from financial disaster. Vor had spent time with Vergyl Harkonnen, tried hard to make amends for the setbacks that Abulurd’s disgrace had caused them … not that he would expect any thanks from the Harkonnens even if they knew the truth. He had wanted the feud to end. He had just wanted peace.
But now Orry’s blood, splashed all over the honeymoon bed, made peace impossible, at least until Tula paid for her crime. To that end, Vor and Willem would go to Lankiveil and search, and if they did not find her there, they would continue to hunt wherever the clues took them.
Willem’s dark eyes flashed with anger. “Even if she isn’t there, we can hurt her family. Make Tula feel the pain she inflicted on me. None of the Harkonnens are innocent.”
Vor placed a firm hand on the young man’s shoulder and shook his head. “Tula is the one who killed your brother, not the others. We Atreides have honor.”
“Even if the Harkonnens do not?”
Vor narrowed his eyes, leaned closer. “Even if the Harkonnens do not. Tula needs to face justice, but we won’t harm the rest of her family for what she did. I refuse to stoke the flames of this feud. It needs to end.”
Willem scowled. “Orry paid with his life because of something you did a long time ago.”
“I know. And I won’t perpetuate that kind of injustice.”
Willem was not happy with the decision. He still wanted to harm the Harkonnens, maybe burn down their warehouses or sink a fleet of fur-whale boats, but Vor held firm. “No, I remember Vergyl Harkonnen — Tula’s father, Griffin’s father — and I won’t destroy an innocent man because of his unfortunate bloodline. I don’t want to commit the same crime Tula did.” He lowered his voice. “There’s been too much collateral damage already. We won’t sink to their level.”
During the brief time the two men had spent working the buriak orchards, Vor had either observed or learned about his grown children from a distance, surprised to discover how much had changed. Had he really been gone only two years? He longed to see their expressions and hear their voices; he wanted to tell them the stories of what he had done since Emperor Salvador forced him into exile, but that would put them in danger. It pained him to keep himself hidden from them, but it was better to stay away. They would never know he had watched over them.
For decades — a full life span — he had lived here on Kepler, no longer a hero, just a family man, yet now that life seemed no more than a dream, and this branch of his family had moved on, thriving without him. He wasn’t surprised. They all led normal lives, untroubled by Imperial politics or dark schemes of revenge.
Vor was content to let them stay that way. He could go now, confident they were safe. If he and Willem found Tula on Lankiveil, he hoped they would take care of the matter with efficient violence and ensure his family’s future safety.
The day before the scheduled arrival of the commercial spacefolder, Vor made a decision that he hoped wouldn’t cause trouble. His wistful “nephew” had planned a last date with his local girlfriend, and Vor invited himself along, because he had learned that his sons Clar and Oren would be in town with their children for Clar’s fifty-first birthday celebration.
After changing clothes at the end of their shift in the orchards, the two men walked into town. On the way, Willem asked in an irritated tone, “You’re not really going to act as my chaperone, are you? This is my last night with Opalla. We’ll never see each other again.”
“I remember your reputation with the ladies on Caladan.” Vor gave him a serious nudge. “Just be careful. In my early days fighting in the Jihad, I myself left many women behind — and probably a fair number of children I never knew about. That’s not fair to any of them.”
Willem sniffed. “We’re not serious. Opalla knew that from the start.” Then his expression darkened. “I don’t have time for romance until we hunt down Tula. This is just to say goodbye.”