Dune

Groups tend to condition their surroundings for group survival. When they deviate from this it may be taken as a sign of group sickness. There are many telltale symptoms. I watch the sharing of food. This is a form of communication, an inescapable sign of mutual aid which also contains a deadly signal of dependency. It is interesting that men are the ones who usually tend the landscape today. They are husband-men. Once, that was the sole province of women.

—THE STOLEN JOURNALS

“You must forgive the inadequacies of this report,” the Reverend Mother Anteac wrote. “Ascribe it to the necessity for haste. I leave on the morrow for Ix, my purpose being the same one I reported in greater detail earlier. The God Emperor’s intense and sincere interest in Ix cannot be denied, but what I must recount here is the strange visit I have just had from the Ixian Ambassador, Hwi Noree.”

Anteac sat back on the inadequate stool which was the best she could manage in these Spartan quarters. She sat alone in her tiny bedchamber, the space-within-a-space which the Lord Leto had refused to change even after the Bene Gesserit warning of Tleilaxu treachery.

On Anteac’s lap lay a small square of inky black about ten millimeters on a side and no more than three millimeters thick. She wrote upon this square with a glittering needle—one word upon another, all of them absorbed into the square. The completed message would be impressed upon the nerve receptors of an acolyte-messenger’s eyes, latent there until they could be replayed at the Chapter House.

Hwi Noree posed such a dilemma!

Anteac knew the accounts of Bene Gesserit teachers sent to instruct Hwi on Ix. But those accounts left out more than they told. They raised greater questions.

What adventures have you experienced, child?

What were the hardships of your youth?

Anteac sniffed and glanced down at the waiting square of black. Such thoughts reminded her of the Fremen belief that the land of your birth made you what you were.

“Are there strange animals on your planet?” the Fremen would ask.

Hwi had come with an impressive Fish Speaker escort, more than a hundred brawny women, all of them heavily armed. Anteac had seldom seen such a display of weapons—lasguns, long knives, silver-blades, stungrenades . . .

It had been at midmorning. Hwi had swept in, leaving the Fish Speakers to invest the Bene Gesserit quarters, all except this Spartan inner room.

Anteac swept her gaze around her quarters. The Lord Leto was telling her something by keeping her here.

“This is how you measure your worth to the God Emperor!”

Except . . . now he sent a Reverend Mother to Ix and the avowed purpose of this journey suggested many things about the Lord Leto. Perhaps times were about to change, new honors and more melange for the Sisterhood.

Everything depends upon how well I perform.

Hwi had entered this room alone and had sat demurely on Anteac’s pallet, her head lower than that of the Reverend Mother’s. A nice touch, and no accident. The Fish Speakers obviously could have placed the two of them anywhere in any relationship Hwi commanded. Hwi’s shocking first words left little doubt of that.

“You must know at the outset that I will wed the Lord Leto.”

It had required the deep control to keep from gaping. Anteac’s truthsense told her the sincerity of Hwi’s words, but the full portent could not be assessed.

“The Lord Leto commands that you say nothing of this to anyone,” Hwi added.

Such a dilemma! Anteac thought. Can I even report this to my Sisters at the Chapter House?

“Everyone will know in time,” Hwi said. “This is not the time. I tell you because it helps impress upon you the gravity of the Lord Leto’s trust.”

“His trust in you?”

“In both of us.”

This had sent a barely concealed, shuddering thrill through Anteac. The power inherent in such trust!

“Do you know why Ix chose you as Ambassador?” Anteac asked.

“Yes. They intended me to beguile him.”

“You appear to have succeeded. Does this mean that the Ixians believe those Tleilaxu stories about the Lord Leto’s gross habits?”

“Even the Tleilaxu don’t believe them.”

“I take it that you confirm the falsehood of such stories?”

Hwi had spoken in an odd flatness which even Anteac’s truthsense and abilities as a Mentat found hard to decipher.

“You have talked to him and observed him. Answer that question for yourself.”

Anteac put down a small surge of irritation. Despite her youth, this Hwi was not an acolyte . . . and would never make a good Bene Gesserit. Such a pity!

“Have you reported this to your government on Ix?” Anteac asked.

“No.”

“Why?”

“They will learn soon enough. Premature revelation could harm the Lord Leto.”

She is truthful, Anteac reminded herself.

“Isn’t your first loyalty to Ix?” Anteac asked.

“Truth is my first loyalty.” She smiled then. “Ix contrived better than it thought.”

“Does Ix think of you as a threat to the God Emperor?”

“I think their primary concern is knowledge. I discussed this with Ampre before leaving.”

“The Director of Ix’s Outfederation Affairs? That Ampre?”

“Yes. Ampre is convinced that the Lord Leto permits threats to his person only up to certain limits.”

“Ampre said that?”

“Ampre does not believe the future can be hidden from the Lord Leto.”

“But my mission to Ix has about it the suggestion that . . .” Anteac broke off and shook her head, then: “Why does Ix provide the Lord with machines and weapons?”

“Ampre believes that Ix has no choice. Overwhelming force destroys people who pose too great a threat.”

“And if Ix refused, that would pass the Lord Leto’s limits. No middle point. Have you thought about the consequences of wedding the Lord Leto?”

“You mean the doubts such an act will raise about his godhead?”

“Some will believe the Tleilaxu stories.”

Hwi only smiled.

Damnation! Anteac thought. How did we lose this girl?

“He is changing the design of his religion,” Anteac accused. “That’s it, of course.”

“Do not make the mistake of judging all others by yourselves,” Hwi said. And, as Anteac started to bridle, Hwi added: “But I did not come here to argue with you about the Lord.”

“No. Of course not.”

“The Lord Leto has commanded me,” Hwi said, “to tell you every detail in my memory about the place where I was born and raised.”

As she reflected on Hwi’s words, Anteac stared down at the cryptic square of black in her lap. Hwi had proceeded to recount the details which her Lord (and now bridegroom!) had commanded, details which would have been boring at times were it not for Anteac’s Mentat abilities at data absorption.

Anteac shook her head as she considered what must be reported to her Sisters at the Chapter House. They already would be studying the import of her previous message. A machine which could shield itself and contents from the penetrating prescience of even the God Emperor? Was that possible? Or was this a different kind of test, a test of Bene Gesserit candor with their Lord Leto? But now! If he did not already know the genesis of this enigmatic Hwi Noree . . .

This new development reinforced Anteac’s Mentat summation of why she had been chosen for the mission to Ix. The God Emperor did not trust this knowledge to his Fish Speakers. He did not want Fish Speakers suspecting a weakness in their Lord!

Or was that as obvious as it appeared? Wheels within wheels—that was the way of the Lord Leto.

Again, Anteac shook her head. She bent then and resumed her account for the Chapter House, leaving out the revelation that the God Emperor had chosen a bride.

They would learn it soon enough. Meanwhile, Anteac herself would consider the implications.