Stilgar was silent for several moments after Paul left the room, but eventually he glanced at the room.
Glancing at their faces, he understood that none of them wanted to be the first person to speak so he decided to speak.
"Duke Paul offers a good deal" Stilgar said pausing for a moment.
Arak'Numi nodded.
"We must make a decision soon," Arak'Numi said, but nobody else spoke.
In the end, the council meeting concluded without a decision being made.
...
Paul walked towards the Ornithopter with a satisfied expression on his face.
Duncan fell into step beside him.
"They hesitated" Duncan said and Paul nodded.
"They will come around," he said simply as he climbed into the Ornithopter.
Thufir was silent for several moments, he himself seemed to be hesitating and Paul saw through his hesitation.
"The council is divided but not opposed," Paul said. "Stilgar will bring them in line."
"And if he doesn't?" Duncan asked.
Paul glanced at him.
"He will."
Thufir nodded slowly, his eyes flickering white for a brief moment.
"The infrastructure orders have begun arriving. First shipments landed this morning."
"Good," Paul said as the Ornithopter lifted.
In silence, the Ornithopter flew through the vast desert landscapes before the city of Arrakeen appeared in their line of sight.
Several moments passed before they arrived over the city.
Below them, Arrakeen was clear, and in a spot near the Refineries, the first signs of scaffolding had already begun climbing the damaged districts. Supply ships dotted the landing pads like scattered stones.
Paul watched it all in silence.
For the first time in a long time, things were moving in the right direction.
...
Two weeks later.
The Royal Envoyship descended slowly onto the primary landing pad of Arrakeen.
Paul stood at the edge of the pad, Thufir to his left, Duncan to his right, Gurney a step behind. Around them, a small formation of Atreides guards stood at attention.
The ramp lowered and landed onto the pad with a loud thud.
Three men stepped forward in Imperial colors, their movements precise and measured. The one at the front was tall, thin, with the careful smile of a man who had delivered bad news professionally his entire life.
Paul was silent as he glanced at the massive ship and the small envoy in front of him with a small frown.
'This has to be a power move,' he thought.
"Duke Paul Atreides," the man at the forefront said with a shallow bow. "Senior Administrator Vorn sends his regards. I am Administrator Crel, dispatched by the Imperial office to conduct a structural compliance review of Arrakeen and its surrounding facilities as per the terms of the handover agreement."
Paul said nothing for a moment.
"You are late, the handover occurred months ago."
"We are aware, and we apologize that it took so long, but this time duration is standard," the man politely said.
'Yeah, right!' Paul thought to himself, but he did not say it out loud.
"You are welcome," he simply said holding a professional smile on his face.
Crel smiled thinly and nodded.
The review began that afternoon, and by the third hour, Paul already understood what this was.
Crel moved through the facilities with two assistants trailing behind him, each carrying measurement devices and thick ledgers.
They said little, but they wrote constantly, and the first report came that evening.
"Harvester unit seven," Crel said, standing on the refinery floor, his voice carrying just enough to be heard over the ambient hum of the machinery. "The lateral stabilizer housing is four millimeters beyond the approved Imperial specification."
Paul looked at the harvester.
It was enormous and functional.
"Four millimeters," Paul muttered.
"Four point three," Crel corrected politely. "Imperial code is quite specific on harvester housing tolerances. This will need to be logged as a Class C structural variance."
"And what does a Class C variance mean in practice?" Paul asked, his voice flat.
"It means the unit cannot be legally operated under Imperial certification until the variance is corrected and re-inspected," Crel said. "We will of course schedule a return inspection at the earliest available date."
'It had survived the war and the damages Harkonnen left on it, and it still worked, yet even after being repaired, they say it is... not allowed?'
"What is the earliest available date?" Duncan asked.
Crel consulted his ledger.
"Approximately six weeks."
Paul's jaw tightened slightly.
The second report came an hour later.
A pressure seal on refinery pipeline three was using a non-standard alloy composition, technically outside Imperial materials specification by a margin so small that Crel had to read the number twice to confirm it.
The third report came before dinner.
A loading dock's weight distribution markings were painted in a color shade that did not precisely match the Imperial approved specification chart, which Crel produced from his ledger with quiet efficiency.
By the time the sun had set over Arrakeen, seven variances had been logged.
Paul stood outside on the platform overlooking the city, the evening wind pulling at his shirt.
Duncan appeared beside him.
"Four millimeters," Duncan muttered.
Paul said nothing.
Thufir appeared at his side a moment later, a small collection of letters held in his hand.
"These arrived this afternoon," Thufir said, extending them towards Paul.
Paul took them and scanned each one in silence.
Two Great houses supporting the emperor, ten minor houses whose names barely registered. And at the bottom, the unmistakable seal of the Spacing Guild.
Each letter said the same thing in different words.
Spice production must resume. Immediately. We cannot hold.
Paul lowered the letters in silence.
He paused for several moments taking a deep breath in.
"How many?" he muttered, loud enough for Thufir to hear.
"Twenty five letters in the past two weeks," Thufir said. "The frequency is increasing. The Guild's letter arrived this morning. It is the second one this week."
A silence settled between them.
"Thufir," Paul said quietly.
"It is a stalling tactic," Thufir said before Paul could finish.