Navigators of Dune

Vor narrowed his eyes, leaned closer. “Even if the Harkonnens do not. Tula needs to face justice, but we won’t harm the rest of her family for what she did. I refuse to stoke the flames of this feud. It needs to end.”

Willem scowled. “Orry paid with his life because of something you did a long time ago.”

“I know. And I won’t perpetuate that kind of injustice.”

Willem was not happy with the decision. He still wanted to harm the Harkonnens, maybe burn down their warehouses or sink a fleet of fur-whale boats, but Vor held firm. “No, I remember Vergyl Harkonnen—Tula’s father, Griffin’s father—and I won’t destroy an innocent man because of his unfortunate bloodline. I don’t want to commit the same crime Tula did.” He lowered his voice. “There’s been too much collateral damage already. We won’t sink to their level.”

During the brief time the two men had spent working the buriak orchards, Vor had either observed or learned about his grown children from a distance, surprised to discover how much had changed. Had he really been gone only two years? He longed to see their expressions and hear their voices; he wanted to tell them the stories of what he had done since Emperor Salvador forced him into exile, but that would put them in danger. It pained him to keep himself hidden from them, but it was better to stay away. They would never know he had watched over them.

For decades—a full life span—he had lived here on Kepler, no longer a hero, just a family man, yet now that life seemed no more than a dream, and this branch of his family had moved on, thriving without him. He wasn’t surprised. They all led normal lives, untroubled by Imperial politics or dark schemes of revenge.

Vor was content to let them stay that way. He could go now, confident they were safe. If he and Willem found Tula on Lankiveil, he hoped they would take care of the matter with efficient violence and ensure his family’s future safety.

The day before the scheduled arrival of the commercial spacefolder, Vor made a decision that he hoped wouldn’t cause trouble. His wistful “nephew” had planned a last date with his local girlfriend, and Vor invited himself along, because he had learned that his sons Clar and Oren would be in town with their children for Clar’s fifty-first birthday celebration.

After changing clothes at the end of their shift in the orchards, the two men walked into town. On the way, Willem asked in an irritated tone, “You’re not really going to act as my chaperone, are you? This is my last night with Opalla. We’ll never see each other again.”

“I remember your reputation with the ladies on Caladan.” Vor gave him a serious nudge. “Just be careful. In my early days fighting in the Jihad, I myself left many women behind—and probably a fair number of children I never knew about. That’s not fair to any of them.”

Willem sniffed. “We’re not serious. Opalla knew that from the start.” Then his expression darkened. “I don’t have time for romance until we hunt down Tula. This is just to say goodbye.”

* * *

THE LARGEST ENTERTAINMENT hall in town had a crowded bar adjacent to an elegant restaurant, from which patrons could watch the gaming floor through large plaz windows. Vor took a seat where he had a view of people arriving, while Willem went off in a dark mood to join his date.

Vor positioned himself where he could watch the entrances, and perked up when his estranged family arrived, his two sons and their spouses, his grandchildren. All of them were strangers to him. He made no move to reveal himself and join them, just sat in wistful, longing isolation, hoping distance and his beard would conceal who he was.

He sipped a glass of local white wine, watched them laughing and talking, celebrating Clar’s birthday. He tried to read their lips, imagine their conversations. Not that much time had passed since he’d last seen Clar, who was tall and had the hawklike Atreides nose, while Oren looked more like their mother, Mariella. Vor let out a silent sigh.

No one took notice of the quiet stranger at the bar, absorbed in his drink. Vor noted several small children he hadn’t seen before—including a pair of baby girls. He wanted to swing them around in the air and make them laugh, wanted to hug his grown children … wanted life to be normal again, even ordinary.

After a long moment, he looked away and wiped his eyes. Out on the gaming floor, he saw Willem and the pretty brunette playing a battle game with chips and dice, with two armies lined up against each other on a large table. The young man and his date were laughing, but Vor could tell that he remained wary and vigilant, glancing around every few seconds.

Vor watched his family for another half hour before slipping out a side door and walking back to the ranch alone, letting Willem have the time he wanted.

Tomorrow, they would be off to avenge Orry.