bh.houseatreides-第84节

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　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。
　In　the　first　days　of　confusion　following　the　takeover；　C'tair　had　hoarded　scraps　of　abandoned　technology；　from　which　he　had　constructed　the　cross…dimensional　〃Rogo〃　transceiver。　Soon；　though；　all　but　the　most　primitive　technology　had　been　confiscated　and　made　illegal。　C'tair　still　snatched　what　he　could；　scavenging　anything　that　might　prove　valuable。　He　considered　the　risk　well　worth　taking。
　His　fight　here　might　continue　for　years；　if　not　decades。
　He　thought　back　to　the　childhood　he'd　shared　with　D'murr；　and　the　crippled　inventor；　Davee　Rogo；　who　had　befriended　the　boys。　In　his　private　laboratory；　secreted　inside　an　ignored　coal　vein　in　the　upper　crust；　old　Rogo　had　taught　the　youths　many　interesting　principles；　had　shown　them　some　of　his　failed　prototypes。　The　inventor　had　chuckled；　his　bright　eyes　sparkling　as　he　goaded　the　boys　into　disassembling　and　reassembling　some　of　his　plicated　inventions。　C'tair　had　learned　a　great　deal　under　the　crippled　man's　tutelage。
　Now　C'tair　recalled　his　Navigator　brother's　lack　of　interest　when　he'd　told　him　of　the　wavy　vision　he'd　seen　in　the　rubble。　Perhaps　the　ghost　of　Davee　Rogo　had　not　e　back　from　the　dead　to　provide　instructions。　He'd　never　seen　a　similar　apparition；　before　or　since。　But　that　experience；　whether　a　supernatural　message　or　a　hallucination；　had　permitted　C'tair　to　acplish　a　very　human　purpose：　remaining　in　munication　with　his　twin；　maintaining　the　bond　of　love　as　D'murr　became　lost　in　the　mysteries　of　the　Guild。
　Trapped　in　his　various　hiding　places；　C'tair　had　to　live　vicariously；　soaring　across　the　universe　in　his　brother's　mind　whenever　they　made　contact　via　the　transceiver。　Over　the　months　he　learned　with　excitement　and　pride　of　D'murr's　first　solo　flights　through　foldspace　as　a　trainee　Pilot　in　his　own　Guild　ship。　Then；　a　few　days　ago；　D'murr　had　been　approved　for　his　first　mercial　assignment；　navigating　an　unmanned　colony　transport　craft　that　plied　the　void　far　beyond　the　Imperium。
　If　his　outstanding　work　for　the　Guild　continued；　the　Navigator　trainee　who　had　been　D'murr　Pilru　would　be　promoted　to　transporting　goods　and　personnel　between　the　primary　worlds　of　the　Houses　Major；　and　perhaps　along　the　coveted　Kaitain　routes。　He　would　bee　an　actual　Navigator；　possibly　even　working　his　way　up　to　Steersman。。。。
　But　the　munications　device　exhibited　persistent　problems。　The　silicate　crystals　had　to　be　sliced　with　a　cutteray　and　connected　in　a　precise　manner；　then　they　functioned　only　briefly　before　disintegrating　from　the　strain。　Hairline　cracks　rendered　them　useless。　C'tair　had　used　the　device　on　four　occasions　to　reach　his　brother；　and　after　each　time　he'd　had　to　painstakingly　cut　and　refit　new　crystals。
　C'tair　established　careful　ties　to　black　market　groups　that　furnished　him　with　what　he　required。　The　contraband　silicate　crystals　surreptitiously　bore　laser…scribed　approvals　by　the　Religious　Review　Board。　Ever　resourceful；　the　black　marketers　had　their　own　means　of　counterfeiting　the　approval　marks；　and　had　scribed　them　everywhere；　thus　frustrating　the　controlling　efforts　of　the　occupation　forces。
　Still；　he　dealt　with　the　furtive　salesmen　as　little　as　possible　to　reduce　his　own　risk　of　being　caught。。。but　that　also　limited　the　number　of　times　he　could　talk　with　his　brother。
　C'TAIR　STOOD　BEHIND　a　barricade　with　other　restless；　sweaty　people　who　studiously　refused　to　recognize　each　other。　He　looked　out　across　the　sprawling　grotto　floor　to　the　construction　yards　where　the　skeleton　of　the　partially　built　Heighliner　sat。　Overhead；　portions　of　the　projected　sky　remained　dark　and　damaged；　and　the　Tleilaxu　showed　no　inclination　to　repair　it。
　Suspensor…borne　searchlights　and　speakers　hovered　over　the　crowd　as　the　gathered　people　waited　for　an　announcement　and　further　instructions。　No　one　wanted　to　ask；　and　no　one　wanted　to　hear。
　〃This　Heighliner　is　of　an　unapproved　Vernius　design；〃　the　floating　speakers　boomed　in　a　sexless　voice　that　resonated　against　the　rock　walls；　〃and　does　not　meet　the　standards　of　the　Religious　Review　Board。　Your　Tleilaxu　masters　are　returning　to　the　previous　design；　so　this　craft　is　to　be　dismantled　immediately。〃
　A　soft　susurration　of　dismay　crept　across　the　crowd。
　〃Raw　materials　are　to　be　salvaged　and　new　work　crews　established。　Construction　begins　again　in　five　days。〃
　C'tair's　mind　whirled　as　maroon…robed　organizers　marched　through　the　crowds；　assigning　teams。　As　the　son　of　an　ambassador　he'd　had　access　to　information　that　had　not　been　available　to　others　of　his　age。　He　knew　the　old…style　Heighliners　had　a　significantly　smaller　cargo　capacity　and　operated　less　efficiently。　But　what　possible　religious　objection　could　the　invaders　have　to　increased　profits？　What　did　the　Tleilaxu　have　to　gain　from　less　efficient　space　transport？
　Then　he　remembered　a　story　that　his　ambassador　father　had　told　back　in　a　time　of　smug　assurance；　that　old　Emperor　Elrood　had　been　displeased　with　the　innovation；　since　it　curtailed　his　tariff　revenue。　Pieces　began　to　fit　into　place。　House　Corrino　had　provided　disguised　Sardaukar　troops　to　maintain　an　iron　grip　on　the　Ixian　population；　and　C'tair　realized　that　reverting　to　the　old　Heighliner　design　might　be　how　the　Tleilaxu　intended　to　repay　the　Emperor　for　his　military　support。
　Wheels　within　wheels　within　wheels。。。
　He　felt　sick　inside。　If　true；　it　was　such　a　petty　reason　for　so　many　lives　to　have　been　lost；　for　the　glorious　traditions　of　Ix　to　have　been　destroyed；　for　the　overthrow　of　an　entire　noble　family　and　a　planetary　way　of　life。　He　was　angry　with　everyone　involved　　even　with　Earl　Vernius；　who　should　have　foreseen　this　and　taken　steps　not　to　create　such　powerful　enemies。
　The　call　to　work　came　across　the　PA　system；　and　C'tair　was　assigned　to　join　suboid　crews　as　they　dismantled　the　partially　finished　ship　and　salvaged　its　parts　in　the　grotto　yard。　Struggling　to　maintain　a　bland　expression　on　his　face　as　he　wielded　a　construction　laser　to　sever　ponents；　he　wiped　sweat　from　his　dark　hair。　He　wished　instead　that　he　could　use　the　laser　to　attack　the　Tleilaxu。　Other　teams　hauled　the