PART TWO
IX - FALCON'S GHOST
“Do you know the cost of my attack on Arrakis?”
“Moving 10 legions cost you 50 years of spice harvesting,” answered Thufir Hawat.
“Yes, it’s too expensive,” exclaimed the Baron exasperatedly. “I want more; I want to become the Emperor.”
“But that’s impossible? You are too—”
“By any means necessary. If I want to become Emperor, my principal enemy is the Spacing Guild. The gigantic cost of moving troops is too high; 10 legions cost me 50 years of spice. For attacking the throne, I should need a 1,000 years of spice harvesting. That’s why I have to overcome this monopoly by creating my Guild. For that, I will use all my spice, and a recent discovery of our Dr. Lankasst.”
—Baron Vladimir Harkonnen and Thufir Hawat, Giedi Prime, M11 10191 AG
Two days later, in the Royal Giedi Prime prison, two Harkonnen guards dragged an unconscious man in the detention aisle.
“I tell you, they found him in a place that didn’t exist. He was totally brain-dead, tripping on some spice or something. I don’t know. He was unconscious for all the trip,” said the leading man.
“Unconscious off the drug itself? That must be an impressive amount,” answered the second one.
“No! By the Harkonnen service!” laughed the first in a sick voice.
“A good old beating to death. They must had some real fun.”
They hauled him into Cell 24
“I wonder if we can get just a taste of the same fun.”
“No! The Baron has especially asked not to touch him more, he needs to be alive to respond well to the planned torture he’s gonna endure,” halted the first. “They need him to tell everything he has seen.”
“No fun,” grumbled the second.
They left him alone in his cold grey cellar, with a simple red garment, torn and cut.
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The next day, he finally woke up in pain. Where am I? I remember glimpsing another cell before.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“In the deepest abyss, I still see the light, the colour, and the wind. Especially the Wind,” Nestor whispered on the ground.
“Great, another psycho neighbour. The last one stayed only five days in his cell,” sighed a voice behind the right wall.
Nestor tried to keep his eyes open and moved to rest his back on the right wall. He asked in a low voice, “Where am I?”
“Personal prison of the Harkonnen family, on Giedi Prime,” answered his neighbour with a huff.
A lady? Her voice seems so dark. They must have captured me when I was in the lab. I have to think about a plan to escape, but I’m alone.
“Open yourself,” whispered a small voice in his head that was different from his own.
Fine.
“How long have you been here? You talk like you have been here for a very long time,” Nestor asked slowly.
“I’ve been here since—a time.”
Not very talkative, I see. From what I know of the Harkonnen, they do not treat their prisoners kindly, especially the women...
“Do you know what happened to the last resident of my cell?” he asked.
“Dead, probably. After torture, probably—or maybe worse.”
Worse? Again, she spoke little.
“Open yourself,” the Wind whispered anew.
I get it!
“My name is Nestor.”
A lifeless silence fell.
After a few minutes, the woman said, “Look, you don’t seem wicked, but if you are here, you will not stay alive for long. So what is the point of a discussion? Every failed assassin gets in this cell and dies few days later.”
“But I’m not an assassin! I’m a spy. Besides, how are you still there, alive?” Nestor snapped.
“A spy? That’s odd,” she continued after breathing slowly, “He—They don’t want to execute me—well, not like the others here... They have a reason to keep me alive.”
Nestor tried to analyse what she was explaining.
“Why is it strange that a spy’s here?”
“Because they left spies to be dealt with by the Harkonnen heir. He kills men for sport in the arena, and—” she stopped for a few seconds before continuing in a sad tone, “disposes of women.”
He understood it implicated her in a bad way. I can almost feel it in her voice, but she hides it. She tries to hide it, but I pierce it. I think she is a —.
“You are a spy?” asked Nestor in wonder.
“Yes, I was,” she answered shortly while exhaling.
They remained silent for a few minutes in their individual cells.
She then resumed the discussion.
“My name is Clémentine.”
“Clémentine? The Clémentine Ash?” He asked in astonishment.
“How do you know me?” Clémentine responded with surprise.
“I’m a spy, remember? I read your name in an intel report three years ago; you were on a mission on Giedi Prime for the Atreides when the Arrakis invasion happened. Some source told us they had found you dead in the spice warehouse,” Nestor explained, recalling every details.
“And here I am. I wish the source were true,” said Clémentine, despairing.
Clémentine lay back on the ground. Nestor also turned to lay on the ground, his head full of thoughts. He closed his eyes. I see it, it appears to me pure as a diamond, my vision quest is here. Thanks, Ms Wind.
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Clémentine Ash [https://res.cloudinary.com/dxtl7maxi/image/upload/v1662038185/Art/Pourpre%20Conspirary/clementine-ash-avrip-and-the-machine.png]
Clémentine Ash - Avrip & The Machine