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'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。
If his outstanding work for the Guild continued； the Navigator trainee who had been D'murr Pilru would be promoted to transporting goods and personnel between the primary worlds of the Houses Major； and perhaps along the coveted Kaitain routes。 He would bee an actual Navigator； possibly even working his way up to Steersman。。。。
But the munications device exhibited persistent problems。 The silicate crystals had to be sliced with a cutteray and connected in a precise manner； then they functioned only briefly before disintegrating from the strain。 Hairline cracks rendered them useless。 C'tair had used the device on four occasions to reach his brother； and after each time he'd had to painstakingly cut and refit new crystals。
C'tair established careful ties to black market groups that furnished him with what he required。 The contraband silicate crystals surreptitiously bore laser…scribed approvals by the Religious Review Board。 Ever resourceful； the black marketers had their own means of counterfeiting the approval marks； and had scribed them everywhere； thus frustrating the controlling efforts of the occupation forces。
Still； he dealt with the furtive salesmen as little as possible to reduce his own risk of being caught。。。but that also limited the number of times he could talk with his brother。
C'TAIR STOOD BEHIND a barricade with other restless； sweaty people who studiously refused to recognize each other。 He looked out across the sprawling grotto floor to the construction yards where the skeleton of the partially built Heighliner sat。 Overhead； portions of the projected sky remained dark and damaged； and the Tleilaxu showed no inclination to repair it。
Suspensor…borne searchlights and speakers hovered over the crowd as the gathered people waited for an announcement and further instructions。 No one wanted to ask； and no one wanted to hear。
〃This Heighliner is of an unapproved Vernius design；〃 the floating speakers boomed in a sexless voice that resonated against the rock walls； 〃and does not meet the standards of the Religious Review Board。 Your Tleilaxu masters are returning to the previous design； so this craft is to be dismantled immediately。〃
A soft susurration of dismay crept across the crowd。
〃Raw materials are to be salvaged and new work crews established。 Construction begins again in five days。〃
C'tair's mind whirled as maroon…robed organizers marched through the crowds； assigning teams。 As the son of an ambassador he'd had access to information that had not been available to others of his age。 He knew the old…style Heighliners had a significantly smaller cargo capacity and operated less efficiently。 But what possible religious objection could the invaders have to increased profits？ What did the Tleilaxu have to gain from less efficient space transport？
Then he remembered a story that his ambassador father had told back in a time of smug assurance； that old Emperor Elrood had been displeased with the innovation； since it curtailed his tariff revenue。 Pieces began to fit into place。 House Corrino had provided disguised Sardaukar troops to maintain an iron grip on the Ixian population； and C'tair realized that reverting to the old Heighliner design might be how the Tleilaxu intended to repay the Emperor for his military support。
Wheels within wheels within wheels。。。
He felt sick inside。 If true； it was such a petty reason for so many lives to have been lost； for the glorious traditions of Ix to have been destroyed； for the overthrow of an entire noble family and a planetary way of life。 He was angry with everyone involved even with Earl Vernius； who should have foreseen this and taken steps not to create such powerful enemies。
The call to work came across the PA system； and C'tair was assigned to join suboid crews as they dismantled the partially finished ship and salvaged its parts in the grotto yard。 Struggling to maintain a bland expression on his face as he wielded a construction laser to sever ponents； he wiped sweat from his dark hair。 He wished instead that he could use the laser to attack the Tleilaxu。 Other teams hauled the