Dune

“Another Festival so soon?” the Lord Leto asked.

“It has been ten years,” the majordomo said.

Do you think by this exchange that the Lord Leto betrays an ignorance of time’s passage?

—THE ORAL HISTORY

During the private audience period preceding the Festival proper, many commented that the God Emperor spent more than the allotted time with the new Ixian Ambassador, a young woman named Hwi Noree.

She was brought down at midmorning by two Fish Speakers who were still full of first-day excitement. The private audience chamber beneath the plaza was brilliantly illuminated. The light revealed a room about fifty meters long by thirty-five wide. Antique Fremen rugs decorated the walls, their bright patterns worked in jewels and precious metals, all combined in weavings of priceless spice-fibers. The dull reds of which the Old Fremen had been so fond predominated. The chamber’s floor was mostly transparent, a setting for exotic fishes worked in radiant crystal. Beneath the floor flowed a stream of clear blue water, all of its moisture sealed away from the audience chamber, but excitingly near Leto, who rested on a padded elevation at the end of the room opposite the door.

His first view of Hwi Noree revealed a remarkable likeness to her Uncle Malky, but her grave movements and the calmness of her stride were equally remarkable in their difference from Malky. She did have that dark skin, though, the oval face with its regular features. Placid brown eyes stared back at Leto. And where Malky’s hair had been gray, hers was a luminous brown.

Hwi Noree radiated an inner peace which Leto sensed spreading its influence around her as she approached. She stopped ten paces away, below him. There was a classical balance about her, something not accidental.

With growing excitement, Leto realized a betrayal of Ixian machinations in the new Ambassador. They were well along in their own program to breed selected types for specific functions. Hwi Noree’s function was distressingly obvious—to charm the God Emperor, to find a chink in his armor.

Despite this, as the meeting progressed, Leto found himself truly enjoying her company. Hwi Noree stood in a puddle of daylight which was guided into the chamber by a system of Ixian prisms. The light filled Leto’s end of the chamber with glowing gold which centered on the Ambassador, dimming behind the God Emperor where stood a short line of Fish Speaker guards—twelve women chosen for their inability to hear or speak.

Hwi Noree wore a simple gown of purple ambiel decorated only by a silver necklace pendant stamped with the symbol of IX. Soft sandals the color of her gown peeked from beneath her hem.

“Are you aware,” Leto asked her, “that I killed one of your ancestors?”

She smiled softly. “My Uncle Malky included that information in my early training, Lord.”

As she spoke, Leto realized that part of her education had been conducted by the Bene Gesserit. She had their way of controlling her responses, of sensing the undertones in a conversation. He could see, however, that the Bene Gesserit overlay had been a delicate thing, never penetrating the basic sweetness of her nature.

“You were told that I would introduce this subject,” he said.

“Yes, Lord. I know that my ancestor had the temerity to bring a weapon here in the attempt to harm you.”

“As did your immediate predecessor. Were you told that, as well?”

“I did not learn it until my arrival, Lord. They were fools! Why did you spare my predecessor?”

“When I did not spare your ancestor?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“Kobat, your predecessor, was more valuable to me as a messenger.”

“Then they told me the truth,” she said. Again, she smiled. “One cannot always depend on hearing truth from one’s associates and superiors.”

The response was so utterly open that Leto could not suppress a chuckle. Even as he laughed, he realized that this young woman still possessed the Mind of First Awakening, the elemental mind which came in the first shock of birth-awareness. She was alive!

“Then you do not hold it against me that I killed your ancestor?” he asked.

“He tried to assassinate you! I am told you crushed him, Lord, with your own body.”

“True.”

“And next you turned his weapon against your own Holy Self to demonstrate that the weapon was ineffectual . . . and it was the best lasgun we Ixians could make.”

“The witnesses reported correctly,” Leto said.

And he thought: Which shows how much you can depend on witnesses! As a matter of historical accuracy, he knew that he had turned the lasgun only against his ribbed body, not against hands, face or flippers. The pre-worm body possessed a remarkable capacity for absorbing heat. The chemical factory within him converted heat to oxygen.

“I never doubted the story,” she said.

“Why has Ix repeated this foolish gesture?” Leto asked.

“They have not told me, Lord. Perhaps Kobat took it onto himself to behave this way.”

“I think not. It has occurred to me that your people desired only the death of their chosen assassin.”

“The death of Kobat?”

“No, the death of the one they chose to use the weapon.”

“Who was that, Lord? I’ve not been told.”

“It’s unimportant. Do you recall what I said at the time of your ancestor’s foolishness?”

“You threatened terrible punishment should such violence ever again enter our thoughts.” She lowered her gaze, but not before Leto glimpsed a deep determination in her eyes. She would use the best of her abilities to blunt his wrath.

“I promised that none of you would escape my anger,” Leto said.

She jerked her attention up to his face. “Yes, Lord.” And now her manner revealed personal fear.

“None can escape me, not even the futile colony you’ve recently planted at . . .” And Leto reeled off for her the standard chart coordinates of a new colony the Ixians had planted secretly far beyond what they thought were the reaches of his Empire.

She betrayed no surprise. “Lord, I think it was because I warned them you would know of this that I was chosen as Ambassador.”

Leto studied her more carefully. What have we here? he wondered. Her observation had been subtle and penetrating. The Ixians, he knew, had thought distance and enormously magnified transportation costs would insulate the new colony. Hwi Noree thought not and had said so. But she believed her masters had chosen her as Ambassador because of this—a comment on the Ixian caution. They thought they had a friend at court here, but one who also would be seen as Leto’s friend. He nodded as the pattern took shape. Quite early in his ascendancy he had revealed to the Ixians the exact location of the supposedly secret Ixian Core, the heartland of the technological federation which they governed. It had been a secret the Ixians thought safe because they paid gigantic bribes for it to the Spacing Guild. Leto had winkled them out by prescient observation and deduction—and by consulting his memories, where there were more than a few Ixians.

At the time, Leto had warned the Ixians that he would punish them if they acted against him. They had responded with consternation and accused the Guild of betraying them. This had amused Leto and he had responded with such a burst of laughter that the Ixians were abashed. He had then informed them in a cold and accusatory tone that he had no need of spies or traitors or other ordinary trappings of government.

Did they not believe he was a god?

For a time thereafter, the Ixians were responsive to his requests. Leto had not abused the relationship. His demands were modest—a machine for this, a device for that. He would state his needs and presently the Ixians would deliver the required technological toy. Only once had they tried to deliver a violent instrument into one of his machines. He had slain the entire Ixian delegation before they could even unwrap the thing.

Hwi Noree waited patiently while Leto mused. Not the slightest sign of impatience surfaced.

Beautiful, he thought.

In view of his long association with the Ixians, this new stance sent the juices coursing through Leto’s body. Ordinarily, the passions, crises and necessities which had produced and impelled him burned low. He often felt that he had outlived his times. But the presence of Hwi Noree said he was needed. This pleased him. Leto felt that it might even be possible that the Ixians had achieved a partial success with their machine to amplify the linear prescience of a Guild navigator. A small blip in the flow of great events might have escaped him. Could they really make such a machine? What a marvel that would be! Purposefully, he refused to use his powers for even the smallest search through this possibility.

I wish to be surprised!

Leto smiled benignly at Hwi. “How have they prepared you to woo me?” he asked.

She did not blink. “I was provided with a set of memorized responses for particular exigencies,” she said. “I learned them as I was required, but I do not intend to use them.”

Which is exactly what they want, Leto thought.

“Tell your masters,” he said, “that you are precisely the right kind of bait to dangle in front of me.”

She bowed her head. “If it pleases my Lord.”

“Yes, you do.”

He indulged himself then in a small temporal probe to examine Hwi’s immediate future, tracing the threads of her past through this. Hwi appeared in a fluid future, a current whose movements were susceptible to many deflections. She would know Siona in only a casual way unless . . . Questions flowed through Leto’s mind. A Guild steersman was advising the Ixians and he obviously had detected Siona’s disturbance in the temporal fabric. Did the steersman really believe he could provide security against the God Emperor’s detection?

The temporal probe took several minutes, but Hwi did not fidget. Leto looked at her carefully. She seemed timeless—outside of time in a deeply peaceful way. He had never before encountered a common mortal able to wait thus in front of him without some nervousness.

“Where were you born, Hwi?” he asked.

“On Ix itself, Lord.”

“I mean specifically—the building, its location, your parents, the people around you, friends and family, your schooling—all of it.”

“I never knew my parents, Lord. I was told they died while I was still an infant.”

“Did you believe this?”

“At first . . . of course. Later, I built fantasies. I even imagined that Malky was my father . . . but . . .” She shook her head.

“You did not like your Uncle Malky?”

“No, I didn’t. Oh, I admired him.”

“My reaction precisely,” Leto said. “But what of your friends and your schooling?”

“My teachers were specialists, even some Bene Gesserit were brought in to train me in emotional control and observation. Malky said I was being prepared for great things.”

“And your friends?”

“I don’t think I ever had any real friends—only people who were brought in contact with me for specific purposes in my education.”

“And these great things for which you were trained, did anyone ever speak of those?”

“Malky said I was being prepared to charm you, Lord.”

“How old are you, Hwi?”

“I don’t know my exact age. I guess I’m about twenty-six. I’ve never celebrated a birthday. I only learned about birthdays by accident, one of my teachers giving an excuse for her absence. I never saw that teacher again.”

Leto found himself fascinated by this response. His observations provided him with certainty that there had been no Tleilaxu interventions into her Ixian flesh. She had not come from a Tleilaxu axlotl tank. Why the secrecy, then?

“Does your Uncle Malky know your age?”

“Perhaps. But I haven’t seen him for many years.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you how old you were?”

“No.”

“Why do you suppose that is?”

“Maybe they thought I’d ask if I were interested.”

“Were you interested?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you ask?”

“I thought at first there might be a record somewhere. I looked. There was nothing. I reasoned then that they would not answer my question.”

“For what it tells me about you, Hwi, that answer pleases me very much. I, too, am ignorant of your background, but I can make an enlightened guess at your birthplace.”

Her eyes focused on his face with a charged intensity which had no pretense in it.

“You were born within this machine your masters are trying to perfect for the Guild,” Leto said. “You were conceived there, as well. It may even be that Malky was your father. That is not important. Do you know about this machine, Hwi?”

“I’m not supposed to know about it, Lord, but . . .”

“Another indiscretion by one of your teachers?”

“By my uncle himself.”

A burst of laughter erupted from Leto. “What a rogue!” he said. “What a charming rogue!”

“Lord?”

“This is his revenge on your masters. He did not like being removed from my court. He told me at the time that his replacement was less than a fool.”

Hwi shrugged. “A complex man, my uncle.”

“Listen to me carefully, Hwi. Some of your associations here on Arrakis could be dangerous to you. I will protect you as I can. Do you understand?”

“I think so, Lord.” She stared up at him solemnly.

“Now, a message for your masters. It is clear to me that they have been listening to a Guild steersman and they have joined themselves to the Tleilaxu in a perilous fashion. Tell them for me that their purposes are quite transparent.”

“Lord, I have no knowledge of . . .”

“I am aware of how they use you, Hwi. For this reason you may tell your masters also that you are to be the permanent Ambassador to my court. I will not welcome another Ixian. And should your masters ignore my warnings, trying further interference with my wishes, I shall crush them.”

Tears welled from her eyes and ran down her cheeks, but Leto was grateful that she did not indulge in any other display such as falling to her knees.

“I already have warned them,” she said. “Truly I did. I told them they must obey you.”

Leto could see that this was true.

What a marvelous creature, this Hwi Noree, he thought. She appeared the epitome of goodness, obviously bred and conditioned for this quality by her Ixian masters with their careful calculation of the effect this would have on the God Emperor.

Out of his thronging ancestral memories, Leto could see her as an idealized nun, kindly and self-sacrificing, all sincerity. It was her most basic nature, the place where she lived. She found it easiest to be truthful and open, capable of shading this only to prevent pain for others. He saw this latter trait as the deepest change the Bene Gesserit had been able to effect in her. Hwi’s real manner remained outgoing, sensitive and naturally sweet. Leto could find little sense of manipulative calculation in her. She appeared immediately responsive and wholesome, excellent at listening (another Bene Gesserit attribute). There was nothing openly seductive about her, yet this very fact made her profoundly seductive to Leto.

As he had remarked to one of the earlier Duncans on a similar occasion: “You must understand this about me, a thing which some obviously suspect—sometimes it’s unavoidable that I have delusionary sensations, the feeling that somewhere inside this changeling form of mine there exists an adult human body with all of the necessary functions.”

“All of them, Lord?” the Duncan had asked.

“All! I feel the vanished parts of myself. I can feel my legs, quite unremarkable and so real to my senses. I can feel the pumping of my human glands, some of which no longer exist. I can even feel genitalia which I know, intellectually, vanished centuries ago.”

“But surely if you know . . .”

“Knowledge does not suppress such feelings. The vanished parts of myself are still there in my personal memories and in the multiple identity of all my ancestors.”

As Leto looked at Hwi standing in front of him, it helped not one whit to know he had no skull and that what once had been his brain was now a massive web of ganglia spread through his pre-worm flesh. Nothing helped. He could still feel his brain aching where it once had reposed; he could still feel his skull throbbing.

By just standing there in front of him, Hwi cried out to his lost humanity. It was too much for him and he moaned in despair:

“Why do your masters torture me?”

“Lord?”

“By sending you!”

“I would not hurt you, Lord.”

“Just by existing you hurt me!”

“I did not know.” Tears fell unrestrained from her eyes. “They never told me what they were really doing.”

He calmed himself and spoke softly: “Leave me now, Hwi. Go about your business, but return quickly if I summon you!”

She left quietly, but Leto could see that Hwi, too, was tortured. There was no mistaking the deep sadness in her for the humanity Leto had sacrificed. She knew what Leto knew: they would have been friends, lovers, companions in an ultimate sharing between the sexes. Her masters had planned for her to know.

The Ixians are cruel! he thought. They knew what our pain would be.

Hwi’s departure ignited memories of her Uncle Malky. Malky was cruel, but Leto had rather enjoyed his company. Malky had possessed all of the industrious virtues of his people and enough of their vices to make him thoroughly human. Malky had reveled in the company of Leto’s Fish Speakers. “Your houris,” he had called them, and Leto could seldom think of the Fish Speakers thereafter without recalling Malky’s label.

Why do I think of Malky now? It’s not just because of Hwi. I shall ask her what charge her masters gave her when they sent her to me.

Leto hesitated on the verge of calling her back.

She’ll tell me if I ask.

Ixian ambassadors had always been told to find out why the God Emperor tolerated Ix. They knew they could not hide from him. This stupid attempt to plant a colony beyond his vision! Were they testing his limits? The Ixians suspected that Leto did not really need their industries.

I’ve never concealed my opinion of them. I said it to Malky:

“Technological innovators? No! You are the criminals of science in my Empire!”

Malky had laughed.

Irritated, Leto had accused: “Why try to hide secret laboratories and factories beyond the Empire’s rim? You cannot escape me.”

“Yes, Lord.” Laughing.

“I know your intent: leak a bit of this and some of that back into my Imperial domains. Disrupt! Cause doubts and questioning!”

“Lord, you yourself are one of our best customers!”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it, you terrible man!”

“You like me because I’m a terrible man. I tell you stories about what we do out there.”

“I know it without your stories!”

“But some stories are believed and some are doubted. I dispel your doubts.”

“I have no doubts!”

Which had only ignited more of Malky’s laughter.

And I must continue tolerating them, Leto thought. The Ixians operated in the terra incognita of creative invention which had been outlawed by the Butlerian Jihad. They made their devices in the image of the mind—the very thing which had ignited the Jihad’s destruction and slaughter. That was what they did on Ix and Leto could only let them continue.

I buy from them! I could not even write my journals without their dictatels to respond to my unspoken thought. Without Ix, I could not have hidden my journals and the printers.

But they must be reminded of the dangers in what they do!

And the Guild could not be allowed to forget. That was easier. Even while Guildsmen cooperated with Ix, they distrusted the Ixians mightily.

If this new Ixian machine works, the Guild has lost its monopoly on space travel!