Navigators of Dune

If Vor and Willem ever did find their quarry, they would certainly be remembered around here. Vor didn’t think of himself as a cold-blooded killer, but after living for more than two centuries and participating in a decades-long war, his hands were by no means clean. He had made up his mind to deal with this himself, even though Willem wanted to kill Tula with his own hands. Instead, Vor would do what was necessary—not for the pleasure, because he would feel none of that. No, if they could not manage to get away, he would take the fall, instead of Willem, who had most of his life ahead of him. Vor had nothing left to lose.

But first they needed to find her.

When the music paused again, the two men made their way back to the table, sweating from the dance. Willem stayed close to his date, a young woman named Harmona. She was thin and quite pretty, with a heart-shaped face and long black hair secured by a jeweled clasp on one side. Willem wore a dashing uniform for travel, altered from one of the air-rescue garments he’d worn on Caladan. Vor’s redheaded dance partner left him to find a more attentive companion, and as soon as the music started again, Harmona pulled Willem back out to the floor.

Sitting at the table by himself, Vor froze, and his vision focused into a pinprick of searing light. Across the dance floor, Tula Harkonnen—it was unmistakably her!—slipped into a seat at a table with a young man. Vor knew the curly blonde hair, the classically beautiful face and generous lips … the hands that had killed Orry.

He’d been hunting, and now it was time to move in for the kill. He ignored the music, the lovers splashing in the pool, the dancers, the tables—all were just obstacles. He saw only his quarry. He would strike her before she could even take notice of him. Vor had fought her once before, in his lodgings on the night of Orry’s murder, so he knew what a deadly fighter she could be.

As he moved, he signaled for Willem, who was deep in conversation with Harmona. When the young man finally noticed him, he became instantly alert, and surprise flared in his eyes when he also spotted Tula. He caught up with Vor, and moving together like predators, they slid through the crowded hall toward their target.

Tula’s male friend looked up as they closed in. He gave Vor a casual glance, but did not otherwise react. With each step, Vor grew more certain that this really was the young woman who had married Orry and slit his throat as he slept.

Vor lunged forward for an initial attack—only to stagger when something struck him hard on the back of his head. He fell, trying to protect himself as he went down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Willem rush forward to defend him, but an agile woman swept in from the crowd and struck him down, too. One of the statuesque women he had casually noticed now stood crouched in a well-practiced fighting stance, joined by her companion. The two women had moved so swiftly that they neutralized Vor and Willem, while drawing little attention from the crowd of bystanders.

The two men landed in defensive postures. At her table, Tula scrambled up, gaping in amazement at the surprise attack and her apparently unexpected protectors. Within Vor’s hearing, one of the women snapped, “We detected the threat. He’s the one you hate, isn’t he? The older one? The Atreides.” Two additional nondescript but powerful women also swept in from the crowd.

Though clearly surprised to see her guardians, Tula’s eyes went wide when she recognized Vor and Willem. The color drained from her face. “They are both Atreides,” Tula said.

As the women formed a barrier between the young Harkonnen and her two attackers, onlookers began to gather. Tula’s male friend spluttered questions that went ignored.

With no further thought or restraint, but inflamed by memories of blood-spattered Orry, Vor launched himself toward Tula. Her female guardians might be skilled fighters, but so was he. He shoved one of them aside and threw himself upon his intended victim, connecting with a blow that should have sent her sprawling, but Tula countered with a hard, pinpoint blow to his temple.

Willem yelled, “Murderer!” but the young man had far less fighting skill than Vor or any of these women. A pair of female fighters pummeled him, broke his bones, and sent him crashing to the floor. They continued to beat him.

Trying to intervene, Vor struggled to reach Tula, throwing off one of the ruthless women who held him back, but a sharp blow struck him from one side. He felt and heard his ribs cracking, just before a hard kick to his midsection brought him down.

Trying to ignore the pain, Vor got back to his feet, caring nothing for the damage done to his body. He drove two of the women away with a volley of kicks and thrusts. His victim was just out of reach.…