He had avoided this duty for half of his life, but now the departure could not come soon enough for Rhombur Vernius. He made no attempt to conceal his cyborg body— in light of his mission to Ix, he considered it a badge of honor.

Following concise descriptions from Thufir Hawat’s perfect memory, Dr. Yueh made cosmetic modifications to disguise the sophisticated mechanical enhancements, making them look like primitive, clumsy devices. Rhombur hoped he could pass himself off as one of the part-human, part-machine monstrosities the Tleilaxu called “bi-Ixians.”

For weeks, Gurney and Rhombur had discussed strategy with the Duke and his highest-ranking military men. “The success or failure of this mission ultimately falls on my shoulders,” Rhombur said, as he stood awaiting a shuttle that would take him and Gurney to the Heighliner. “I’m not a kid collecting pretty rocks anymore. I need to remember everything my father ever taught me. By the age of seven, I had to memorize all the military codes, and I learned about every great battle House Vernius had ever fought.”

“This struggle will be something for us to write songs about, something for your children to memorize,” Gurney Halleck said with an encouraging smile. Then, from the way his expression stiffened, it was clear he regretted his remark.

Breaking the uncomfortable silence, Rhombur said, “Yes, it will be something for all Ixians to tell their children and grandchildren.”

The necessary bribes had been paid: The Spacing Guild would again interfere with Tleilaxu defense scanners long enough for their camouflaged combat pod to slip into a hidden access port. This particular pod had been designed so that it could be dismantled for its parts, many of which had dual purposes as weapons themselves. The sleek gray pod sat on struts in a loading dock, while Atreides men hurried to make the link-ups that would connect it to the shuttle.

Thufir and Duncan arrived to bid the two men farewell. Duke Leto had not appeared yet, and Rhombur refused to board the shuttle until he could embrace his friend. The liberation of Ix could not begin without an Atreides blessing.

The night before, Rhombur had recharged his cyborg components, but his mind remained exhausted from lack of authentic sleep. His thoughts continued to press through questions. Tessia had worked her wonders, though, rubbing the tense muscles in the remaining flesh of his body, miraculously soothing him. Her dark brown eyes seemed full of pride and anticipation. “My love— my husband, I promise that our next night spent together will be in the Grand Palais.”

With a small chuckle, he said, “Not in my old rooms, though. You and I deserve more than a boyhood bed-chamber!” He gave a mighty heave of his chest and shoulders, simultaneously dreading and looking forward to seeing Ix again.

The timetable was in place. Everything would adhere to a strict schedule because the separate prongs of the attack could not rely on communications while en route. There would be no room for error, or delay… or doubts. Duke Leto was counting on him and Gurney to soften up the Tleilaxu from within, to expose their underbelly, after which the Atreides military would deliver a hammerblow from the outside.

Turning, he saw Leto. The Duke’s black jacket was uncharacteristically wrinkled; the nobleman’s chin and cheeks were shadowed with dark stubble. Poorly concealed behind his back, he held a large parcel gift-wrapped in gold paper with a ribbon on top. “You can’t leave without this, Rhombur.”

Accepting the package, the Prince determined from sensors in his arm that it was surprisingly light. “Leto, the combat pod is already so packed there’s barely enough room for Gurney and me.”

“You’ll want to take this anyway.” A rare smile broke through his normally hard expression.

Fumbling to tear the wrapping paper with his mechanical fingers, Rhombur got it open. Inside the box he found a much smaller case. The hinged lid opened easily. “Vermilion hells!”

The fire-jewel ring was just like the one he had worn before the skyclipper explosion— a ring that had represented his authority as the rightful Earl of House Vernius. “Fire-jewels aren’t easy to come by, Leto. Each stone has its own personality, its own unique appearance. Where did you get this? It looks just like the one I used to have. Of course, it couldn’t be the same one.”

Leto’s gray eyes twinkled as he draped a brotherly arm around the Prince’s artificial shoulders. “This is your ring, my friend, regenerated from a tiny fragment of the jewel that was found fused into the flesh of your hand.”

Rhombur’s remaining organic eye blinked as if to drive back tears. This ring symbolized the glories of Ix, as well as the terrible losses he and his people had suffered. But his imaginary tears stopped, and his face hardened. He slipped the fire-jewel ring onto the third finger of his prosthetic right hand. “Perfect fit.”

“And more good news,” Duncan Idaho added. “According to the spaceport center, the Heighliner on this route is the last Dominic Class vessel ever manufactured on Ix, newly refurbished from Junction. Sounds like a good omen to me.”

“Indeed, I will take it as that.” Rhombur hugged each of his friends before heading for the private shuttle, accompanied by Gurney Halleck. Behind them, Leto, Duncan, and Thufir called out, “Victory on Ix!”

To Rhombur’s ears, it sounded like a statement of fact. He vowed to succeed… or die trying.