Navigators of Dune

The storms whipped through the desert, exactly as predicted. Josef’s mercenary commandos slipped in to attack the Imperial crews without mercy. They jammed communications so the contract workers could not transmit an alarm, although static from the wind-borne sand was sufficient to block most signals anyway. The Imperial guardian ships in orbit were unaware of the disaster that had wiped out their ground crews.

Josef considered it excellent progress.

With a series of rapid strikes as the storm worsened, VenHold commandos destroyed the harvesters and seized a significant haul of melange. Once he consolidated his military forces, he would engage in overt strikes against the rest of the Imperial operations, but he wasn’t ready to do that yet. In this particular case, the storms gave him plausible deniability, and Emperor Roderick could not retaliate. It was a risk Josef considered worth taking.

* * *

WHEN THE STORMS finally passed and the confiscated spice had been cached in various hidden holding vaults, Josef insisted on going out to inspect his new spice bank. By now, the Freemen had abandoned the caves, and Modoc would be waiting there to turn over the site, and to receive his final payment.

Under cover of night, when there was less chance they would be seen by the few remaining Imperial patrols, an expedition cruised low above the desert and flew for hours out into the great emptiness. Josef transmitted ahead for the Naib to meet them, but when the desert-rigged fliers landed in a sheltered basin surrounded by high, moonlit rocks, they saw no sign of life. The stronghold looked desolate and empty. When they received no response, Josef began to grow uneasy. What if Modoc had betrayed him, taken the payoff, and given him false coordinates?

Before he could formulate a retaliation, two of his guards spotted movement up in the rocks, and several figures in camouflaged desert cloaks crawled out of cracks where they had hidden. The shadowy figures approached in the moonlight, and he was relieved to see that one of them was Modoc. “You have come to inspect your new desert fortress, Directeur?” He looked around warily. “You didn’t bring the demon in her tank this time?”

“She travels where and when she wishes.”

The desert man chuckled. “Even more mysterious! I told my comrades that I had seen her appear out of thin air, and they did not believe me. But when they saw the wealth I brought to our tribe, they no longer questioned my claims.”

Modoc gestured to his companions, who flitted among the rocks. Josef’s private guards emerged from their fliers and took positions to protect the Directeur.

The Naib gestured, showing off his sietch. “The sheltered walls keep us safe from sandworms. Shai-Hulud knows of this place, but He cannot enter. You have seen a sandworm before?”

“Yes, I watched my cymek machines destroy one of them.”

Modoc grinned, and his comrades chuckled. “Ho! Now you say things that even I cannot believe.”

“I don’t care whether you believe it.” Josef strode forward. “Show me my spice bank.”

Modoc clapped his hands and yelled at the desert people. “The Directeur is waiting!”

Josef’s guards kept their weapons at hand, but the desert people seemed unconcerned about any threat from these outsiders. Together, they climbed a rugged thread of trail that was clearly visible in the light of First Moon; they picked their way among the rocks, slipping through cracks so narrow that Josef was forced to turn sideways and inch his way along. These places would have to be widened with explosives so that his people could move materials in and out efficiently. He felt tense and vulnerable—if this was an ambush, his party was doomed.

The group passed through a narrow defile where rugged rock walls towered on either side of them, their way illuminated now by glowglobes. Finally they emerged into an open warren of caves where hundreds of shadowy people moved about in the dim light, packing up belongings, emptying out chambers, draining every last drop of hoarded water from reservoirs.

“I thought you said the place was ready,” Josef said.

“Most are gone, but a few still linger, clinging to the past.” Modoc sniffed. “This was our home for many generations. Naib Rurik, my father, never wanted any change. He would have buried himself in the sand rather than accept any comforts from outside.”

Some Freemen grumbled as they departed. Sensing their displeasure, Josef frowned. “You said your people agreed with this decision to give over these caves to me.”

Modoc seemed proud. “I am their Naib. They do as I say.”

As Josef looked around, he was satisfied with the secure location. This sietch had never been detected by his company’s overflights or census scans; therefore, he was confident it would stay hidden as his fortress stockpile. Combined Mercantiles could fill it with enough melange to ride out any shortage or political turmoil. Arrakis was his most fortified planet, and this stockpile would be the most fortified place on the surface.