Dune: The Machine Crusade Read Free Page B

impressive firepower of the Army of the Jihad, this man remained unimpressed and unintimidated. He seemed oblivious.
    With a determined effort, Xavier kept his voice even. “We are trying to protect your world, Elder Rhengalid. If we hadn’t arrived when we did, if our ships did not continue to hold back the thinking machines every day, you and all your people would be slaves of Omnius.” He sat stiffly on the hard bench across from the Zenshiite leader. Not once had Rhengalid offered him any refreshment, though Xavier suspected that the elders had partaken of their own whenever the soldiers left the room.
    “Slaves? If you are so concerned for our welfare, Primero Harkonnen, where were your battleships a few months ago when Tlulaxa flesh merchants stole healthy young men and fertile women from our farming settlements?”
    Xavier tried not to show distress. He had never wanted to be a diplomat, didn’t have the patience for it. He served the cause of the Jihad with all the loyalty and dedication he possessed. The crimson of his uniform symbolized the spilled blood of humanity, and his innocent Manion— barely eleven months old— had been the first of the new martyrs.
    “Elder, what did you do to defend your own people when the raiders came? I knew nothing of the incident before now and cannot help you with what happened in the past. I can only promise that life under the thinking machines will be much worse.”
    “So you say, but you cannot deny the hypocrisy of your own society. Why should we take the word of one slaver over another?”
    Xavier’s nostrils flared. I don’t have time for this! “If you insist on reliving the past, then remember that your peoples’ refusal to fight the thinking machines from the very beginning has cost the freedom of billions of humans, and countless deaths. Many believe you owe a great debt to your race.”
    “We have no love for either side in this conflict,” the gray-bearded man retorted. “My people want no part of your pointless, bloody war.”
    Holding back a heated retort, Xavier said, “Nevertheless, you are caught in the crossfire and must choose sides.”
    “Are human tyrants better than machine tyrants? Who can say? But I do know that this is not our fight, has never been our fight.”
    Workers inside the Darits dam moved sluice gates, letting clear water pour in twin spectacular waterfalls from the open hands of the colossal Buddha and Mohammed statues. At the sudden rushing noise, Xavier looked up and was surprised to see Primero Vorian Atreides striding along the rock walkway from the landing pad of his shuttle at the crude spaceport. Smiling, the dark-haired man approached, still looking as fit, virile, and young as when Xavier had first met him after his escape from Earth so many years ago. “You can cajole them all you want, Xavier, but the Zenshiites speak a different language… in more than the linguistic sense.”
    The Darits elder looked indignant. “Your godless civilization has persecuted us. Jihadi soldiers are not welcome here— especially not in Darits, our sacred city.”
    Xavier held his gaze on Rhengalid. “I must inform you, Elder, that I shall not allow the thinking machines to take over this planet, whether you help us or not. The fall of IV Anbus would give the enemy yet another stepping-stone to the League Worlds.”
    “This is our planet, Primero Harkonnen. You do not belong here.”
    “Neither do the thinking machines!” Xavier’s face reddened.
    Vorian took him by the arm. Clearly amused, Vor said, “I see you’ve discovered new techniques of diplomacy.”
    “I never claimed to be a negotiator.”
    Smiling, Vor nodded. “If these people knew to follow your orders, that would certainly make things easier, wouldn’t it?”
    “I’m not going to abandon this planet, Vor.”
    The command comline sputtered, and a sharp message came across it. Vergyl Tantor’s voice was excited, breathless. “Primero Atreides, your suspicions