98.
113 EXT. ARRAKEEN RESIDENCY - DAY 113
The Harkonnen Dreadnought still hovers over the great house.
Harkonnen guards stationed at every door. In total control.
114 INT. ARRAKEEN RESIDENCY - BATH ROOM - DAY 114
The Baron reclines in a high-tech tub filled with a viscous
orange fluid. He’s coated to the collarbones.
One of his cheeks is spiderwebbed with white threads, like
cracks in an old painting. The after-effects of the poison.
Two teenage SLAVES tend to him: a boy and a girl, both very
pretty, in revealing tunics. Both terrified. The boy feeds
the Baron fruit from a platter while the girl dabs
tentatively at his craquelured cheek with a medical swab.
Rabban enters and approaches the tub. Averting his eyes.
BARON HARKONNEN
So?
The female slave touches the Baron with a swab and he jerks
away in pain, slapping the swab from her hand. She cringes.
RABBAN
We chased them into a Coriolis
storm. Winds at eight hundred
kilometers an hour. Nothing
survives such a storm. They are
dead. It is a certainty.
The Baron takes a deep breath.
BARON HARKONNEN
So it’s done. At last.
He beckons to the slave girl to resume her ministrations.
BARON HARKONNEN (CONT'D)
Send word to Giedi Prime to begin
selling our spice reserves. Slowly!
We don’t want the price to fall.
You cannot imagine what it cost me
to bring such force to bear here. I
want you squeeze, Rabban. Squeeze
hard.
RABBAN
Yes, Uncle. And the Fremen?
98.
