Free Dune: House Atreides by Frank Herbert

shouting, cheering. Kynes, anxious now to see the amazing specimen up close, hurried along, stumbling as Harkonnen troops plowed a battered path ahead of him.

    Many minutes later, panting and hot, Kynes stood awestruck in front of the towering mass of the ancient worm. Its skin was scaled, covered with gravel, thick with abrasion-proof calluses. Yet between the segments that sagged open from the explosions, he saw pink, tender skin. The gaping mouth of the worm itself was like a mine shaft lined with crystal daggers.

    "It's the most fearsome creature on this miserable planet!" Rabban crowed.
    "And I've killed it!"

    The soldiers peered, none of them wanting to approach closer than several meters. Kynes wondered how the Baron's nephew intended to haul this trophy back with him. With the Harkonnen penchant for extravagance, however, he assumed Rabban would find a way.

    The Planetologist turned to see that the exhausted Thekar had plodded up beside them. His eyes held a silvery sheen, as if some inner fire blazed bright.
    Perhaps by coming so close to death and seeing the Fremen desert god laid low by Harkonnen explosives, his perspective on the world had changed.

    "Shai-Hulud," he whispered. Then he turned to Kynes, as if sensing a kindred spirit. "This is an ancient one. One of the oldest of the worms."

    Kynes stepped forward to look at the encrusted skin, at its segments, and wondered how he might go about dissecting and analyzing the specimen. Certainly Rabban couldn't object to that? If necessary, Kynes would invoke his assignment from the Emperor to make the man understand. But as he approached closer, intending to touch it, he saw that the skin of the old worm was shimmering, moving, shifting. The beast itself wasn't still alive -- its nerve functions had ceased even to twitch . . . and yet its outer layers trembled and shifted, as if melting.

    While Kynes stared in amazement, a rain of translucent cellular flaps dripped off the hulk of the old worm, like scales shed to the churned sand, where they vanished.

    "What's going on?" Rabban cried, his face purpling. Before his eyes the worm seemed to be evaporating. The skin sloughed off into tiny flopping amoebalike patches that jiggled and then burrowed into the sand like molten solder. The ancient behemoth slumped into the desert.

    In the end, only skeletal, cartilaginous ribs and milky teeth were left. Then even these remains sank slowly, dissolving into mounds of loose gelatin covered by sand.

    The Harkonnen troops stepped back to a safer distance.

    To Kynes, it seemed as if he had seen a thousand years of decay in only a few seconds. Accelerated entropy. The hungry desert seemed eager to swallow every shred of evidence, to conceal the fact that a human had defeated a sandworm.

    As Kynes thought about it, more in confusion and growing amazement than in dismay at losing all chance of dissecting the specimen, he wondered just how strange the life cycle of these magnificent beasts must be.

    He had so much to learn about Arrakis . . . .

    Rabban stood, seething and furious. The muscles in his neck stretched taut like iron cables. "My trophy!" He whirled, clenched his fists, and struck Thekar full across the face, knocking him flat onto the sands. For a moment, Kynes thought the Baron's nephew might actually kill the desert man, but Rabban turned his rage and fury on the still-dissolving, shuddering heap of the sandworm sinking into the exploded sands.

    He screamed curses at it. Then as Kynes watched, a determined look came into Rabban's cold, menacing eyes. His sunburned face flushed a deeper red. "When I return to Giedi Prime, I'll hunt something a lot more satisfying." Then, as if distracted from all thoughts of the sandworm, Rabban turned and stalked away.

    One observes the survivors, and learns from them.

    -Bene Gesserit Teaching

    0f all the fabled million worlds in the Imperium, young Duncan Idaho had never been anywhere but Giedi Prime, an oil-soaked,