Half an hour later, Shaddam watched the opposing Ambassadors enter the Emperor’s anteroom for a private audience meant to “resolve the matter.” At Fenring’s suggestion, he had changed into a more formal outfit with subtle military trappings, so that while his father looked unkempt and sloppy, he had the appearance of a leader.

The Ixian Ambassador had a broad, flesh-fat face with pink cheeks. His entire body looked rumpled in a serge singlesuit with wide lapels and fluffed collar. His thin gray hair had been combed hurriedly. Since he admitted he wasn’t personally familiar with the crisis conditions on Ix, he brought along the Courier Yuta Brey, an eyewitness.

The only Tleilaxu delegate they could find, Mofra Tooy, was a man of small stature with scruffy orange hair and grayish skin. The man exuded a barely suppressed rage, seething as his small dark eyes bored holes through his Ixian counterpart. Tooy had been briefed in exactly what to say.

Ambassador Pilru remained shocked by the entire situation, only now beginning to grasp the death of his wife S’tina and mourn her. It all seemed unreal to him. A nightmare. He shifted uneasily on his feet, concerned for his world, his position, and his missing son C’tair. The Ambassador’s gaze flitted around the room, looking for support among the Emperor’s advisors and staff. It gave him a chill to see their hard gazes turned back at him.

Two Guild agents hovered at the rear of the anteroom, looking on expressionlessly. One of them had a ruddy face with scars. The other’s head was misshapen, bubbled out at the back. Shaddam had seen similar people before, people who had begun training as Guild Navigators, but had failed the rigors of the selection process.

“We will hear from Mofra Tooy first,” the Emperor said in a rasping voice. “I would have him explain himself and his people’s suspicions.”

“And why they are taking such unprecedented and violent action!” Pilru interjected. The others ignored his outburst.

“We have discovered illegal activities on Ix,” the Tleilaxu began, in a childlike voice. “The Bene Tleilax felt it imperative to stop this scourge before another insidious machine intelligence could be unleashed in the Imperium. If we had waited, the human race might have been subjected to more millennia of slavery. We had no choice but to act as we did.”

“Liar!” Pilru snarled. “What makes you the enforcers of the strictures, without due process of law? You have no proof because there have been no illegal activities on Ix. We have adhered carefully to all guidelines from the Jihad.”

With remarkable calm for a Tleilaxu, Tooy kept his gaze on the others in the room, as if Pilru were beneath contempt. “Our forces took necessary action before the evidence could be destroyed. Have we not learned from the Great Revolt? Once active, a machine intelligence may become vindictive and it can develop the ability to copy itself and spread like wildfire. Ix is the source of all machine minds. We Tleilaxu are continuing the holy war only to keep the universe free of this enemy.” Though Ambassador Pilru stood two heads taller than he, Tooy screamed at him, “Jihad! Jihad!”

“Now see here, sir,” Pilru said, falling back several steps. “This behavior is uncalled-for.”

“ ‘Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a human mind,’ ” the Tleilaxu snapped. “You and House Vernius will be damned for your sins!”

“Calm yourself.” Artfully suppressing a smile, Elrood motioned for Tooy to return to his earlier position. Reluctantly, the diminutive delegate cooperated.

Pilru and the Ixian Courier conferred in low, anxious tones, before the Ambassador said, “I ask the Emperor to require proof of such violations. The Bene Tleilax have acted as a rogue element, destroying our commercial base without first submitting their accusations to the Landsraad.” Then he added quickly, “Or to the Emperor.”

“Evidence is being compiled,” Tooy responded. “And it will include the true motive behind the criminal acts you Ixians have committed. Your profit margins have been slipping, putting your CHOAM membership in jeopardy.”

Ah, Shaddam thought, exchanging glances with Hasimir Fenring. Those reports that we falsified so skillfully! No one could manipulate documents as well as Fenring.

“That’s patently false,” Pilru said. “We’re more profitable than ever, especially with our new Heighliner design. Simply ask the Guild. Your people had no right to incite such violence—”

“We had every right, the moral right, to protect the Imperium from another epoch of domination by machines. We see through your subterfuges to your motivation for making machine-minds. Is your profit worth more than the safety of humanity? You have sold your souls!”

Veins throbbed at Pilru’s temples, and he lost his ambassadorial calm. “You lying little bastard, this is a complete fabrication!” He turned to Elrood. “Sire, I demand that you send Sardaukar to Ix to intervene and protect our people from the illegal invasion committed by forces of the Bene Tleilax. We have broken no laws.”

“Violating the Butlerian Jihad is a most serious charge,” the Emperor said in a thoughtful tone, though he didn’t really care a whit about it. He covered his mouth as he coughed again. “Such an accusation cannot be taken lightly. Think of the consequences . . .” Elrood spoke with deliberate slowness, which Shaddam found amusing. The Crown Prince couldn’t help admiring some things about his doomed father, but Elrood was far beyond his prime, and it was time for new blood to step in.

The Courier spoke up. “Emperor Elrood, the Tleilaxu are stalling for time while battles rage on Ix. Use your Sardaukar to enforce a cessation of hostilities, then let each side present its case and evidence in court.”

The Emperor’s eyebrows arched, and he gazed down his thin nose at her. “As a mere Courier, you are not qualified to present arguments to me.” He flicked his glance at the Sardaukar guards. “Remove this woman.”

Desperation gave her voice a ragged edge. “Pardon, Sire, but I am the one most familiar with the crisis on Ix, and my Lord Vernius instructed me to take all necessary steps. We demand that the Bene Tleilax present proof immediately, or withdraw their forces. They aren’t compiling evidence. That’s just a delaying tactic!”

“When can you submit the proof to me?” the Emperor inquired, sliding his gaze to Tooy.

“Alleged proof,” Pilru objected.

“Three Imperial days, Sire.”

Gasps of protest issued from the Ixians. “But, Sire, in that amount of time, they can solidify their military gains— fabricate any evidence they wish.” Pilru’s eyes glittered. “They have already murdered my wife, destroyed buildings . . . My son is missing. Please do not allow them to continue their rampage unchecked for three days!”

The Emperor considered this for a moment, while the assemblage grew quiet. “I’m sure you are exaggerating the unpleasantness to force me into making a rash decision. Considering the gravity of the charges, I’m inclined to await the evidence, or lack of it.” He looked at his Chamberlain. “What say you, Aken? Does that follow the letter of Imperial Law in a situation such as this?” Hesban murmured in concurrence.

Elrood nodded at Pilru as if he were granting him an incredible personal favor. “I think, however, that the proof should be submitted in two days instead of three. Can you accomplish that, Ambassador Tooy?”

“It will be difficult, Sire, but . . . as you wish.”

Aghast, Pilru flushed with anger. “My Lord, how can you side against us with these . . . these filthy Tleilaxu?”

“Ambassador, your prejudice is not welcome here in my Imperial anteroom. I have nothing but the utmost respect for your Earl . . . and, of course, his Lady Shando.”

Shaddam looked at the Guild agents at the rear of the room. In subdued tones they conversed in a secret language. Presently they nodded to each other. A violation of the Butlerian Jihad was a most serious matter to them.

“But in two days my planet will be lost.” Pilru sent a pleading look to the Guildsmen for support, but they remained silent and would not make eye contact.

“You can’t do this— you’ll doom our people to destruction!” Yuta Brey shouted at Elrood.

“Messenger, you are impertinent, just like Dominic Vernius. Tax my patience no more.” Looking sternly at the Tleilaxu representative, Elrood commanded: “Ambassador Tooy, bring me your proof—incontrovertible proof— within two days, or withdraw your forces from Ix.”

Mofra Tooy bowed. Concealed from the Guildsmen directly behind him, a slight smile worked briefly at the edges of his mouth, then faded.

“Very well then,” the Ixian Ambassador said, trembling now with rage. “I hereby demand an immediate Security Council session of the Landsraad.”

“And you shall have it, precisely according to law,” Elrood said. “I have already acted in the manner I believe best serves the Imperium. Mofra Tooy here will address the Council in two days, and you may do the same. If you wish to return to your planet in the meantime, I will divert an express Heighliner for your use. But be warned, if these charges are indeed valid, Ambassador, House Vernius will have much to atone for.”

Wiping perspiration from his shaven head, Dominic Vernius studied his Ambassador to Kaitain. Pilru had just delivered a shocking report to the Earl and his Lady. The man was clearly anxious to search for his missing son in the chaos of the underground city, though he had been back on the planet for less than an hour. They stood together in a subterranean operations center, deep within the ceiling of rock, since the transparent Orb Office in the Grand Palais was too vulnerable in time of war. Machinery sounds could be heard, tube transports moving Ixian troops and equipment through the catacombs of the planetary crust.

The defensive battles had not been going well. Through well-planned sabotage and carefully arranged bottlenecks, Tleilaxu now controlled most of the underworld, and the Ixians were being herded into smaller and smaller areas. The rebellious suboids vastly outnumbered the besieged Ixian defenders, and the Tleilaxu invaders took full advantage, manipulating the pale-skinned workers with ease.

“Elrood has betrayed us, my love,” Dominic said, holding his wife. They had only the dirty clothes on their backs and a few household treasures they had managed to rescue. He understood everything now, though. “I knew the Emperor hated me, but I never expected such loathsome behavior, not even from him. If only I could prove it.”

Looking pale and more fragile than ever, though her eyes flared with iron determination, the Lady Shando drew a deep breath. Delicate lines etched around her exquisite eyes and mouth were the only indications of her advancing age, subtle reminders to Dominic to treasure her beauty, love, and fine character more each day. Stepping to his side, she looped one arm through his. “Maybe if I went to him and threw myself on his mercy? He might be reasonable, for whatever memories he still holds of me. . . . “

“I wouldn’t let you do it. He hates you now and resents me for marrying you. Roody is beyond compassion.” Dominic clenched his fists and studied Ambassador Pilru’s face, but found no hope there. Looking back at Shando, he said, “Knowing him, he’s undoubtedly set up intrigues so complex that he couldn’t withdraw now if he wanted to.

“We’ll never receive war reparations, even if we are victorious. My family fortunes will be confiscated, my personal power stripped.” He lowered his voice, trying to hide the despair. “And all to get even with me for taking his woman away from him a long, long time ago.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, Dominic,” she said softly. “You made me your wife instead of your concubine. I’ve always told you . . .” Her words trailed off.

“I know, my love.” He squeezed her hand. “I’d do anything for you, too. It was worth the cost . . . even this.”

“I await your orders, m’Lord,” Ambassador Pilru said, deeply agitated. His son C’tair was out there somewhere, hiding, fighting, perhaps already dead.

Dominic chewed the inside of his mouth. “Clearly, House Vernius has been singled out for destruction, and there is but one alternative. All the fabricated charges mean nothing, and the paper shield of the law lies torn into shreds. The Emperor intends to destroy us, and we cannot fight House Corrino, especially against treachery such as this. I don’t doubt that the Landsraad will stall and then pounce upon the spoils of war.” Glowering, he squared his broad shoulders and stood straighter. “We will take our family atomics and shields and flee beyond the reach of the Imperium.”

Pilru bit back an outcry. “Going . . . renegade, my Lord? What about the rest of us?”

“Unfortunately, we have no choice, Cammar. It’s the only way we can escape with our lives. I want you to contact the Guild and request emergency transport. Invoke any favors they owe us. The Guildsmen observed your session with the Emperor, so they know our situation. Tell them we want to take our military forces with us, too— what little we have left.” Dominic hung his head. “I never imagined it would come to this . . . thrust from our Palace and our cities. . . . “

The Ambassador nodded stiffly, then departed through the shimmer of a shielded doorway.

One wall of the administrative center flashed alive with four projections on separate panels of battles raging all over the planet— color scenes transmitted by portable comeyes. Ixian losses continued to mount.

Shaking his head, Dominic said, “Now we must speak to our closest friends and retainers and inform them of the dangers they will face if they accompany us. It will be much more difficult and dangerous to flee with us than to be subjugated by the Tleilaxu. No one will be forced to go with us; it will be volunteers only. As a renegade House, all of our family members and supporters will be hunted by glory-seekers.”

“Bounty hunters,” Shando said, her voice heavy with mingled sorrow and anger. “You and I will have to separate, Dominic— to throw them off our trail and increase our chances.”

On the wall, two image panels fizzled out, as the Tleilaxu found transmitting comeyes and disabled them.

Dominic softened his voice. “Later, after our House and planet have been restored to us, we’ll remember what we did here and what was said. This is history. High drama. Let me tell you a little story, a parallel case study.”

“I do enjoy your stories,” she said with a gentle smile on her strong yet delicate face. Her hazel eyes danced. “Very well, what will we tell our grandchildren?”

Momentarily he focused on a fresh crack in the ceiling and water that trickled down a wall. “Salusa Secundus was once the Imperial capital world. Do you know why they moved it to Kaitain?”

“Some problem with atomics,” she replied. “Devastation on Salusa.”

“According to the Imperial version, it was an unfortunate accident. But House Corrino only says that because they don’t want to give people ideas. The truth is that another renegade family, a Great House whose name was stripped from historical records, managed to land on Salusa with their family atomics. In a daring raid they bombed the capital and set off an ecological catastrophe. The world still hasn’t recovered.”

“An attack with atomics? I didn’t know that.”

“Afterward the survivors moved the Imperial throne to Kaitain, in a different, more secure solar system, where young Emperor Hassik III rebuilt the government.” Seeing the concern on his wife’s face, he drew her closer and held her tightly. “We won’t fail, my love.”

The last wall panels fizzled and went dead as the Tleilaxu knocked out the remaining comeyes.