Chapter Text
Despite the evening, the air was still blisteringly hot in the sunlight. Rhea moved from blue-deep shadow to shadow, following the rough map that Zantara had given her. Her legs were tired, but she was moving uphill, hiking up a rock formation that she thought was the right one. The hours of travel had given her time to think, though.
Zantara. The Lion. A wanted man. Fremen?
But he had helped her. Guided her to shelter, set her on her way to survive after shooting down the Harkonnen prison ship. Without asking for anything in return. A rare trait in the Imperium.
Then he disappeared, and told her to find the Planetologist to keep learning how to survive on Arrakis. Rhea was sweating in her clothes that were no better than rags, but she was nowhere near being able to afford a stillsuit at an outpost. Or pay for a ride into civilization.
“Find the planetologist,” she muttered under her breath. He might have mentioned that it would involve crossing over open sand with her heart in her mouth listening for the rumbling of approaching worms. Even with her prana bindu control and ability to sprint beyond the normal limits of human physiology, there was no outrunning the god-worms of this planet.
When she finally reached the top of the rock formation, she paused and took a swig of water from her literjon. She swirled it, listening to the sound. Half-empty. She’d need to harvest some dew in the pre-dawn. That, however, was a later problem.
She surveyed the area, noting that the top was not actually flat, but pockmarked with gaps in the rock, some of which looked like they would make good shelters against the sun. Squinting her eyes against the lingering light, she picked out signs of human habitation – creaking scrap-metal wind traps, the flutter of cloth in the breeze.
Rhea dropped down to a lower level and approached cautiously, hand on the knife at her kindjal in her belt. Her feet were near silent, ghosting over the ground with carefully honed precision. She made her way to where she thought a natural entrance might be – there were naturally-formed columns of rock supporting a cap of red stone, but she guessed there was enough space between the columns to have a decent shelter. Especially with the cloth she spied tied between the columns to increase the shade.
When she got to the nearest column, she crouched down and eased her knife from its sheathe, holding it ready to strike as she inched forward to survey the space.
What she saw surprised her.
A man of average build wearing a still suit and jubba cloak was humming to himself as he tended to small patches of greenery. His chin-length hair had gone completely silver, but was partially tied back from his face, showing the thick silver beard and mustache that added texture to his face. Rhea stayed perfectly still for a few moments, watching him tend to his shade garden, looking for a weapon in his hand. But there was nothing.
Rhea sheathed her kindjal and pushed up to her feet. She lowered her hood and stepped into the sheltered space, revelling in the cooler air in the shaded space. She no longer controlled her steps, letting her feet disturb the debris.
The planetologist turned to face her, thick dark eyebrows rising in surprising. Seeing him properly now, she guessed he was maybe a decade older than her, skin tanned from extensive time spent outdoors, eyes long and thin without a distinctive eye crease, his cheekbones high and flat.
“Hello,” he said, his voice warm but tinged with surprise. “Can I help you?”
“Are you the Planetologist?” Rhea asked, her voice rusty with disuse and rationed water intake.
“If you’re looking for the Imperial Planetologist, I’m afraid that’ll be Cyprian Io who spends his time in the comforts of Arrakeen. If you’re looking for a planetologist, then yes, I suppose you’ve found me.”
“Zantara sent me,” Rhea said again. “To learn to survive this planet.”
The planetologist raised a singular eyebrow. “Zantara. Well, if you’re friends with him, then you are always welcome.”
“I would not describe us as friends,” Rhea replied. “He saved my life and helped me in my first few days. That’s all.”
“Hmm,” he replied cryptically. “Well, I am Derek Chinara, planetologist. Who are you?”
Rhea hesitated for a heartbeat before saying, “Rhea Sumat.”
Derek gave a half-bow. “Well met. So, you have come to seek my knowledge. What brings you out to the Hagga Basin?”
Before she could think she said, “It was not my choice.”
“Hmm,” he replied again, but otherwise kept silent, watching her patiently with his dark eyes. Rhea watched him back, but as the silence stretched between them, she knew she would have to break first. She needed something from him. He didn’t need her.
“Did you hear of the prison ship that was shot down?”
“Ah yes, the Harkonnen were flies all over that wreck for a few days. I’m surprised you’ve made it this long,” Derek said, then half-turned away from her to resume tending his garden. “I would have thought they would not stop searching until every prisoner was accounted for.”
“I have been keeping a low profile,” she said. “Perhaps they miscounted.”
“Perhaps,” he echoed. “Well, if you would like training, perhaps you would be willing to do me a favour first.”
Ah, bargaining. This was more what she was used to. “What kind of favour?”
“There’s an old imperial testing station built into this rock formation that goes further underground. Station #2. It’s just over the cliff there - I’ve been trying to retrieve the records from the station, but unfortunately there seem to be people who’ve become quite ill who are in the station. They chased me out, and I haven’t been able to retrieve the records. If you could bring me the film, I will begin sharing my knowledge with you.”
“That’s it?” Rhea said, incredulous. “Just retrieve a minimc film for you?”
Derek glanced over his shoulder. “I would like to emphasize the danger of the current testing station occupants. They seem to have experienced some sort of collective psychological illness and become paranoid and aggressive. They will attack on sight.”
Rhea sighed. “Alright. I’ll get your records.”
He smiled, and it lit up his whole face. “Thank you. I hope to see you again soon.”
Rhea didn’t know how to respond so inclined her head in silence before she backed away. She began moving in the direction that he’d indicated, an unsettled feeling dogging her. He had not reacted to her as a threat, and she couldn’t decide if that meant he dismissed her as a danger, or was simply that trusting. She wasn’t sure which one was worse.
* * *
It took her several hours to navigate the labyrinth of the ancient testing station, finding voice recordings of the most current inhabitants documenting their slow descent into madness. The evidence of this was clear in the scattered bodies throughout the station with stab wounds, some partially dismembered, that she found amidst the overgrown plant life that had somehow found a way to thrive underground. The air smelled of water, and decomposition. A strange combination on a planet known for its arid desert. The planetologist had not lied, however – the few remaining inhabitants attacked on sight, snarling and maddened with aggression that only a blade through the heart resolved.
At least she was also able to make use of the water cisterns, and acquire some imperial tech that she would be able to put to use. Her fremkit pack was quite heavy by the time she finally reached the center of the strange overgrown laboratory, and found the minimic film records of the research done at this testing station.
By the time she emerged back out into the open air, it was full night. The sky was full of stars, the polar lights dancing in green ribbons above her head. The larger of the two moons was fully risen, washing the desert in pale light. It was a stark difference from the heat of the day – despite it still being objectively warm outside, Rhea shivered with a chill. She pulled her ragged cloak tighter around her shoulders, and quickly ascended up to the planetologist.
He was still awake, sitting cross-legged in front of a small fire. At her step, he looked up, and once more looked surprised to see her. “You’re back! You don’t know how rare that is on Arrakis. Did you get the records?”
His entire posture exuded eagerness, and she wondered if she could exploit that somehow, but then reminded herself that he had already agreed to teach her. “Yes, I did.”
His back curved as he relaxed, and he gestured for her to take a seat next to him at the fire. “I hope the inhabitants didn’t give you too much trouble.”
Rhea shrugged then folded down onto the ground beside him, her back straight. The heat from the fire radiated comfortingly against her skin, chasing away the nighttime chill. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
She pulled the records out of her pack and handed them to Derek. His face lit up like she had given him the most precious gift in the world. “Thank you, Rhea. You have no idea how much of a help you’ve been.”
Her chest filled with an unfamiliar feeling of warmth. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she also wasn’t going to explore it. “How would you like to do training?”
Derek looked over at her, his eyes giving her a once over. “You’re tired. You are welcome to rest here for the night, and we can begin the training in the morning. It may take some time; it is not a simple thing to pass on a lifetime’s knowledge in a few hours.”
Rhea considered, her eyes roaming over the space that had been turned into a shelter and garden nursery. Her instinct for self-preservation told her to find somewhere else to sleep, but Derek’s observation was right. She was weary, from dehydration, from always moving, from always being on alert. “Okay. I will warn you that I have some Bene Gesserit training, and should you attempt to harm me in my sleep you will have my knife in your throat faster than you can blink.”
Derek looked faintly amused for a moment, his face then rearranging into seriousness. “You are safe here. I do not pluck flowers needlessly.”
She wasn’t sure if that was meant to comfort her, as she knew little of tending a garden. But, his tone was soothing, so she nodded her assent.
“Would you like some tea?”
“Please.”
Derek produced a pottery cup from next to him and placed it in front of her before pouring from a dark pottery teapot. Rhea picked up the proffered cup and sniffed the tea, finding it to have a pleasant herbal aroma. She took a sip, and her best description was that it tasted verdant. A rare thing in this place.
“Where are you from?” Derek asked, setting down the teapot and picking up his own cup to sip.
“Chusuk,” Rhea replied, pausing to scan her own bodily functions to ensure there was no poison in the tea that she would need to process. There was none. The tea was simply tea.
“Ah, the music world! How lovely. Do you sing, or play perhaps?”
Rhea tilted her head to the side, and realised she wasn’t sure. Before the Reverend Mother, before the crash of the prison ship, there was only blank space. “I… don’t remember.”
Derek glanced at her, his eyes lingering on her face. “Perhaps the crash has blocked some of your memories. With time, and rest, you may remember once more.”
“Perhaps. Why are you here, if you are not the Imperial Planetologist?”
Derek leaned back and rested a hand on the ground to balance himself. “The former Imperial Planetologist, Kynes, sent me a letter requesting me to join them. Unfortunately, by the time I made it here, they had died trying to save a Fremen seitch. I’m trying to retrace their work, but it’s proving to be quite difficult.”
“Is that why you’re out here, and not in Arrakeen?” she asked, boldly.
“A true planetologist should be out in the field, or in a laboratory, not spending their time drinking with the na-familia.” The derision in his voice was barely veiled, and she had the sense that he did not much respect Io.
“What was Kynes like?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Well, it depends which one you are referring to. The elder was a respected scientist. The younger is more a mystery. Spent most of their time with the Fremen, and is rumoured to have had a daughter with a Fremen. Mostly kept to themselves, had a distaste for the vagaries of Imperial politicking.”
It seemed like an opportunity. Rhea asked, “What do you know of the Fremen?”
“Not much, unfortunately. I’ve found evidence of their dwellings in the desert, which is no surprise. I’m no archaeologist, however. There are town Fremen in Arrakeen and Harko Village, and Zantara, though I have my doubts that he is Fremen by blood.”
“Have you seen no trace of them in the desert?” Rhea asked, remembering the Reverend Mother’s command to Find the Fremen.
“Sadly, it seems the Sardaukar and their pogrom was effective. They are no longer in the basin. If some survived, it is likely they retreated to the Deep Desert.”
Rhea drained her tea cup and placed it in front of her and folded her hands together and rested her elbows on her knees. “I’ve found ruins. Old ritual sites. But no Fremen.”
Derek took sip from his cup and said, “Such is the way of the Imperium, I’m afraid.”
They settled into a brief silence, before Derek asked, “You said you have Bene Gesserit training? But you are not one yourself?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “Some of the sisterhood will train others outside of the official channels. They are not as unified as they would want us to believe.
“Hmm,” Derek said. “How interesting. I suppose that is also the way of the Imperium.”
Rhea could only shrug to that.
Some time later, Derek showed her a simple pallet bed that she could claim for the night, and pointed out his own, quite a distance away. Rhea had the oddest sense that he was trying to make her feel comfortable. It was strange to have someone, a stranger really, look out for her in quite this way. The thought lingered with her when fell into a light sleep.
* * *
The next morning, she woke up feeling refreshed. Normally she was awake multiple times in the night, always on alert to any sound or movement near her. Not today; she had slept through the night, and woken only to the sound of the planetologist humming to himself as he prepared breakfast.
He looked much the same as he had the night before, though in a stillsuit, that wasn’t surprising. Rhea slipped away discretely to take care of her own bodily needs – she didn’t have the luxury of conserving her waste water yet. When she returned, Derek silently handed her a cup of clean, cool water, and said, “Have you any training in Planetology?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“When you look outside my camp, what is it that you see?” he asked.
She knew it was not just a question, but a test. “A desert.”
“True. What else.”
“Life struggling against all odds to survive.”
“Yes,” he said approvingly. “It is often a misconception that deserts are barren of life. In fact, they are robust ecosystems that maintain a delicate balance to support forms of life that have adapted to harsh heat and little water…”
Derek talked at length as they ate breakfast, and then continued while he showed her how to tend to the plants he grew, naming them and explaining their properties. Sometimes he lectured, sometimes he asked her questions to test her existing knowledge.
By the next nightfall, Derek was hoarse from speaking, but when he concluded, he said, “You know, it’s strange. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were already a trained planetologist, and you were simply… remembering things you had forgotten.”
A cold chill ran down Rhea’s spine. She ignored it, and focused on Derek. “I am not. Thank you for teaching me.”
He beamed at her. “While it is a good start, should you find time, you can always come back and we can continue another lesson. Deepen your understanding of the planet around you.”
Rhea considered his offer, and to her own surprise, inclined her head. “I will make the time.”