bh.houseatreides-第94章

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　But　even　rats　could　cause　significant　damage。
　Over　the　months；　C'tair　learned　to　blend　in；　to　appear　to　be　an　insignificant　and　cowed　citizen。　He　kept　his　eyes　averted；　his　hands　dirty；　his　clothes　and　hair　unkempt。　He　could　not　let　it　be　known　that　he　was　the　son　of　the　former　Ambassador　to　Kaitain；　that　he　had　faithfully　served　House　Vernius　　and　still　would；　if　he　could　find　a　way　to　do　it。　He　had　walked　freely　through　the　Grand　Palais；　had　escorted　the　Earl's　own　daughter。　Acts　that；　if　known；　would　mean　a　death　sentence　for　him。
　Above　all；　he　could　not　let　the　rabid　antitechnology　invaders　discover　his　shielded　hiding　place　or　the　devices　he　had　hoarded　there。　His　stockpile　might　just　be　the　last　hope　for　the　future　of　Ix。
　Throughout　the　grottoes　of　the　city；　C'tair　watched　signs　being　torn　down；　streets　and　districts　being　renamed；　and　the　little　gnomes　　all　men；　no　women　　occupying　huge　research　facilities　for　their　secret；　nefarious　operations。　The　streets；　walkways；　and　facilities　were　guarded　by　diligent；　thinly　disguised　Imperial　Sardaukar　or　the　invaders'　own　shape…shifting　Face　Dancers。
　Shortly　after　their　victory　was　secured；　the　Tleilaxu　Masters　had　showed　themselves　and　encouraged　the　suboid　rebels　to　vent　their　anger　on　carefully　selected　and　approved　targets。　Standing　back；　clothed　in　a　simple　workman's　jumpsuit；　C'tair　had　watched　the　smooth…skinned　laborers　cluster　around　the　facility　that　had　manufactured　the　new　self…learning　fighting　meks。
　〃House　Vernius　has　brought　this　upon　themselves！〃　screamed　a　charismatic　suboid　agitator；　almost　certainly　a　Face　Dancer　infiltrator。　〃They　would　bring　back　the　thinking　machines。　Destroy　this　place！〃
　While　the　helpless　Ixian　survivors　had　watched　in　horror；　the　suboids　smashed　the　plaz　windows　and　used　thermal　bombs　to　ignite　the　small　manufactory。　Filled　with　religious　fervor；　they　howled　and　threw　rocks。
　A　Tleilaxu　Master　on　a　hastily　erected　podium　had　bellowed　into　speakers　and　amplifiers。　〃We　are　your　new　masters；　and　we　will　make　certain　the　manufacturing　abilities　of　Ix　are　fully　in　accord　with　the　strictures　of　the　Great　Convention。〃　The　flames　continued　to　crackle；　and　some　of　the　suboids　had　cheered；　but　most　didn't　seem　to　be　listening。　〃As　soon　as　possible；　we　must　repair　this　damage　and　return　this　world　to　normal　operations　　with　better　conditions　for　the　suboids；　of　course。〃
　C'tair　had　looked　around；　watched　the　building　burn；　and　felt　sick　inside。
　〃All　Ixian　technology　must　henceforth　be　scrutinized　by　a　strict　religious　review　board；　to　assure　its　suitability。　Any　questionable　technology　will　be　scrapped。　No　one　will　ask　you　to　endanger　your　souls　by　working　on　heretical　machines。〃　More　cheering；　more　smashed　plaz；　a　few　screams。
　C'tair　had　realized；　though；　that　the　cost　of　this　takeover　would　be　enormous　for　the　Tleilaxu；　even　with　Imperial　support。　Since　Ix　was　one　of　the　major　powerhouse　economies　in　the　Imperium；　the　new　rulers　could　not　afford　to　let　the　production　lines　remain　idle。　The　Tleilaxu　would　make　a　show　of　destroying　some　of　the　questionable　products；　such　as　the　reactive　meks；　but　he　doubted　any　of　the　truly　profitable　Ixian　devices　would　be　discontinued。
　Despite　the　promises　of　the　new　masters；　the　suboids　had　been　put　back　to　work　　as　they　were　bred　to　do　　but　this　time　they　followed　only　Tleilaxu　designs　and　orders。　C'tair　realized　that；　before　long；　the　manufactories　would　begin　pouring　out　merchandise　again；　and　shiploads　of　solaris　would　flow　back　into　the　Bene　Tleilax　coffers　to　pay　them　for　this　costly　military　adventure。
　Now；　though；　the　secrecy　and　security　developed　by　generations　of　House　Vernius　would　work　against　them。　Ix　had　always　shrouded　itself　in　mystery；　so　who　would　notice　the　difference？　Once　the　paying　customers　were　satisfied　with　the　exports；　no　one　in　the　Imperium　would　much　care　about　internal　Ixian　politics。　Anyone　on　the　outside　would　forget　all　that　had　happened　here。　It　would　be　cleanly　swept　under　the　rug。
　That　must　be　what　the　Tleilaxu　were　counting　on；　C'tair　thought。　The　entire　world　of　Ix　　he　would　never　refer　to　it；　not　even　in　his　mind；　as　Xuttuh　　was　walled　off　from　the　Imperium　as　an　enigma。。。much　as　the　homeworlds　of　the　Bene　Tleilax　had　been　for　centuries。
　The　new　masters　restricted　travel　off…planet　and　imposed　curfews　with　deadly　force。　Face　Dancers　rooted　out　〃traitors〃　from　hiding　rooms　similar　to　C'tair's　and　executed　them　without　fanfare　or　ceremony。　He　saw　no　end　to　the　repression；　but　he　vowed　not　to　give　up。　This　was　his　own　world；　and　he　would　fight　for　it；　in　any　way　he　could。
　C'tair　told　no　one　his　name；　called　little　attention　to　himself　　but　he　listened；　absorbed　every　whispered　story　or　rumor；　and　he　planned。　Not　knowing　whom　to　trust；　he　assumed　everyone　was　an　informant；　either　a　Face　Dancer　or　simply　a　turncoat。　Sometimes　an　informant　was　easily　recognizable　by　the　directness　of　a　line　of　inquiry：　Where　do　you　work？　Where　do　you　live？　What　are　you　doing　on　this　street？
　But　others　were　not　so　easy　to　detect；　such　as　the　gnarled　old　woman　with　whom　he　had　initiated　a　conversation。　He'd　only　meant　to　ask　directions　to　a　work　site　where　he　had　been　assigned。　She　hadn't　sought　him　out　at　all；　except　to　appear　harmless。。。somewhat　like　a　child　with　a　grenade　in　its　pocket。
　〃Such　an　interesting　choice　of　words；〃　she'd　said；　and　he　didn't　even　remember　his　own　phrasing。　〃And　your　inflection。。。you　are　Ixian　nobility；　perhaps？〃　She　looked　meaningfully　at　some　of　the　ruined　stalactite　buildings　in　the　ceiling。
　He　had　stammered　an　answer。　〃N…no；　although　I　have　been　a　s…servant　all　my　life；　and　perhaps　I　picked　up　some　of　their　distasteful　mannerisms。　My　apologies。〃　He　had　bowed　and　departed　quickly；　without　ever　getting　directions　from　her。
　His　response　had　been　awkward　and　perhaps　incriminating；　so　he'd　thrown　away　the　clothes　he'd　been　wearing　and　hadn't　gone　down　that　narrow　street　again。　Afterward；　he　had　paid　more　attention　than　ever　before　to　masking　his　own　vocal　identity　markers。　Whenever　possible；　he　avoided　talking　to　strangers　at　all。　It　appalled　C'tair　that　so　many　opportunistic　Ixians　had　switched　allegiance　to　the　new　masters；　forgetting　House　Vernius　in　less　than　a　year。
　In　the　first　days　of　confusion　following　the　takeover；　C'tair　had　hoarded　scraps　of　abandoned　technology；　from　which　he　had　constructed　the　cross…dimensional　〃Rogo〃　transceiver。　Soon；　though；　all　but　the　most　primitive　technology　had　been　confiscated　and　made　illegal。　C'tair　still　snatched　what　he　could；　scavenging　anything　that　might　prove　valuable。　He　considered　the　risk　well　worth　taking。
　His　fight　here　might　continue　for　years；　if　not　decades。
　He　thought　back　to　the　childhood　he'd　shared　with　D'murr；　and　the　crippled　inventor；　Davee　Rogo；　who　had　befriended　the　boys。　In　his　private　laboratory；　secreted　inside　an　ignored　coal　vein　in　the　upper　crust；　old　Rogo　had　taught　the　youths　many　interesting　principles；　had　shown　them　some　of　his　failed　prototypes。　The　inventor　had　chuckled；　his　bright　eyes　sparkling　as　he　goaded　the　boys　into　disassembling　and　reassembling　some　of　his　plicated　inventions。　C'tair　had　learned　a　great　deal　under　the　crippled　man's　tutelage。
　Now　C'tair　recalled　his　Navigator　brother's　lack　of　interest　when　he'd　told　him　of　the　wavy　vision　he'd　seen　in　the　rubble。　Perhaps　the　ghost　of　Davee　Rogo　had　not　e　back　from　the　dead　to　provide　instructions。　He'd　never　seen　a　similar　apparition；　before　or　since。　But　that　experience；　whether　a　supernatural　message　or　a　hallucination；　had　permitted　C'tair　to　acplish　a　very　human　purpose：　remaining　in　munication　with　his　twin；　maintaining　the　bond　of　love　as　D'murr　became　lost　in　the　mysteries　of　the　Guild。
　Trapped　in　his　various　hiding　places；　C'tair　had　to　live　vicariously；　soaring　across　the　universe　in　his　brother's　mind　whenever　they　made　contact　via　the　transceiver。　Over　the　months　he　learned　with　excitement　and　pride　of　D'murr's　first　solo　flights　through　foldspace　as　a　trainee　Pilot　in　his　own　Guild　ship。　Then；　a　few　days　ago；　D'murr　had　been　approved　for　his　first　mercial　assignment；　navigating　an　unmanned　colony　transport　craft　that　plied　the　void　far　beyond　the　Imperium。