按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
ids would find him。 It seemed to be his only chance to survive the carnage。
His mother had once shown him this place concealed behind a dungeon wall of the Grand Palais； shielded up in the thick crust。 As members of the Vernius Court； sons of the Ambassador to Kaitain； C'tair and D'murr had been assigned a place for personal safety should any emergency ever arise。 With the same methodical efficiency she employed daily as a Guild banker； S'tina had prepared for every likelihood； and made sure her sons remembered。 Sweaty； hungry； and terrified； C'tair had been relieved to find the hiding place intact amidst the chaos； gunfire； and explosions。
Then； safe and numb； the shock of what was happening to his city his world hit him full force。 He couldn't believe everything that had already been lost； how much grandeur had turned to dirt and blood and smoke。
His twin brother was gone； whisked off by the Guild to be trained as a Navigator。 At the time he had resented that loss； but at least it meant D'murr was safe from the revolution。 C'tair would not wish this ordeal on anyone。。。but he hoped that his brother had somehow received the news by now。 Were the Tleilaxu covering it up？
C'tair had tried to contact his father； but the Ambassador had been trapped on Kaitain at the height of the crisis。 Amid fires and explosions and murderous suboid gangs； C'tair had found himself with few options other than to hide and survive。 The dark…haired young man would be killed if he tried to make it to the Vernius administration chambers。
Their mother was dead already。
C'tair hid in his enclosed room with the glowglobes extinguished； listening to faint tremors of distant fighting and the much louder sounds of his own breathing； his own heartbeat。 He was alive。
Three days earlier； he had watched the revolutionaries destroy a wing of the Guild facility； the section of the blocky gray building that housed all Ixian banking functions。 His mother had been in there。 He and D'murr had visited her offices enough times during their childhood。
He knew S'tina had barricaded herself in the records vaults； unable to escape and unwilling to believe the rebellious suboid fighters would dare attack a neutral Guild stronghold。 But the suboids did not understand politics or the subtle strands of power。 S'tina had sent C'tair a final transmission； telling him to hold out； to stay safe； arranging for where they would meet again once the violence died down。 Neither of them had believed the situation could get worse。
But while C'tair had watched； explosions planted by suboid rebels tore part of the building free。 The structure broke away from its hold on the cave roof。 Burning； groaning； tumbling； the wreckage fell with a monumental crash to the grotto floor； killing hundreds of watching rebels； as well as the Guild bankers and functionaries。 Everyone inside。
The air filled with smoke and screams； and the fighting continued。 He had known it would be useless to make his way down there to search for his mother。 Instead； realizing that his entire world was falling apart； C'tair had run to the only shelter he knew。
Hidden within the transmission…shielded bolt…hole； he slept huddled in a fetal position； then awoke with a vague sense of determination partially dulled by his anger and grief。 C'tair found and inventoried provisions laid up in nullentropy storage chambers； he checked outdated weapons in the small armory closet。 Unlike some of the larger algae…rooms； this secret place had no orship。 He hoped the chamber wasn't on any charts； classified or unclassified。 Otherwise； the Tleilaxu and their duped suboid followers would certainly find him。
Stunned and listless； C'tair holed up and passed the time； not certain when he might be able to escape； or even send a message。 He didn't think any outside military forces would ever arrive to rescue Ix it should have happened long before now。 His father had departed for good。 A few panicked rumors said that House Vernius had fled； gone renegade。 The Grand Palais was already abandoned and ransacked； soon to bee the headquarters for the new masters of Ix。
Had Kailea Vernius departed with her family； fleeing the destruction？ C'tair hoped so； for her sake。 Otherwise； she would have been a target for the angry revolutionaries。 She was a beautiful young woman bred for Court functions and finery and palace intrigues； never for tooth…and…nail survival。
It made him sick to think of his beloved city； pillaged and trampled。 He remembered the crystal walkways； the stalactite buildings； the magnificent achievements of the Heighliner construction； a craft that could be whisked away like magic by the powers of a Guild Navigator。 How often had he and D'murr explored long tunnels； looked out at the massive grottoes； watched prosperity spread to all Ix's inhabitants？ Now the suboids had ruined everything。 And for what？ He doubted even they understood。
Possibly C'tair could find a passage to the surface； contact a transport ship； use stolen credits to buy a passage off of Ix and make his way to Kaitain； where he would contact his father。 Was Cammar Pilru even still the Ambassador？ Of a government in exile？ Probably not。
No； C'tair could not leave here and abandon his world to its fate。 This was Ix； his home； and he refused to run。 He did vow to survive； though。。。somehow。 He would do whatever it took。 Once the dust settled； he could wear old clothes and meekly pretend to be one of the disaffected Ixians coping with new planetary masters。 He doubted he would ever be safe； however。
Not if he intended to continue the fight。。。
In ensuing weeks； C'tair was able to sneak out of his hideout late in the programmed subterranean nights； utilizing an Ixian life…tracer to avoid Tleilaxu guards and other enemy personnel。 With disgust he watched magnificent Vernii crumble in front of his eyes。
The Grand Palais was now occupied by the ugly gnome…men； treacherous gray…skinned usurpers who had stolen an entire world under the indifferent eyes of the Imperium。 They had flooded the underground city with their furtive； robed representatives。 Ferretlike invader teams scoured the stalactite buildings in search of any nobles in hiding。 Face Dancer troops proved much more efficient than the reckless lower classes。
Far below； suboids reveled in the streets。。。but they didn't know what else to do。 Soon； they grew bored and went sullenly back to their old jobs。 Without Face Dancer instigators to tell them what to want or demand； the suboids had no organized meetings； no way to make their own decisions。 Their lives became the same again； under different masters； with tighter production quotas。 C'tair realized that the new Tleilaxu overseers would have to begin making enormous profits in order to pay the material costs of this takeover。
On the streets of the underground city； C'tair shuffled unnoticed among the defeated populace shift supervisors and families of mid…ranked workers who had survived the purges and had nowhere to go。 Dressed in drab clothes； he crossed damaged walkways into the ruined upper city and took lift tubes down to the rubble of the manufacturing centers。 He couldn't hide forever； but he couldn't be seen yet either。
C'tair refused to accept that the battle was already lost。 The Bene Tleilax had few friends among the Landsraad； and they certainly couldn't withstand a coordinated resistance。 Yet； Ix seemed to offer none。
Standing in a small； cowed group of pedestrians on a sidewalk made of interlocked tiles； he watched blond； chiseled…featured soldiers march by。 They wore gray…and…black uniforms definitely not Ixians or suboids； and certainly not Tleilaxu。 Tall and erect； the haughty soldiers carried stunners； wore black riot…control helmets； and enforced order。 A new order。 With horror； he recognized them。
The Emperor's Sardaukar！
The sight of Imperial troops assisting in the takeover made C'tair furious as he prehended greater depths to this conspiracy。。。but he masked his emotions in the crowd。 He couldn't allow anyone to notice him。 Around him； he heard the grumbling of Ixian natives despite Sardaukar enforcement； even the middle classes were none too content with their changed situation。 Earl Vernius had been a good…natured if somewhat preoccupied ruler； the Bene Tleilax； on the other hand； were religious fanatics with brutal rules。 Many of the freedoms Ixians took for granted would soon vanish under Tleilaxu government。
C'tair wished he could do something to get even with these treacherous invaders。 He vowed to make that his focus for as long as it might take。
As he crept along the gloomy； damaged streets on the grotto floor； it saddened him to see buildings blackened and crumbling from the ceiling。 The upper city had been gutted。 Two of the diamond pillars supporting the immense rock roof had been blown； and the resulting avalanches had buried entire blocks of suboid dwelling plexes。
With a muffled groan； C'tair realized that virtually all of the grand Ixian public artworks had been destroyed； including the stylized Guild Heighliner model that had graced Plaza Dome。 Even the beautiful fiber…optic sky on the rock ceiling was damaged and the projections were splotchy now。 The dour and f