God Emperor of Dune

Chapter Twenty

- 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 Nome."
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, stun-grenades...
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
"
title: <b> "God Emperor of Dune":</b> feed_id: 5296 pattern_id: 2266 book_author: Herbert Frank book_name: God Emperor of Dune
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 lxians 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. -= If you know all of your ancestors, you were a personal witness to the events which created the myths and religions of our past. Recognizing this, you must think of me as a myth-maker.
- The Stolen Journals THE FIRST explosion came just as darkness enfolded the City of Onn. The blast caught a few venturesome revelers outside the Ixian Embassy, passing on their way to a party where (it was promised) Face Dancers would perform an ancient drama about a king who slew his children. After the violent events of the first four Festival Days, it had taken some courage for the revelers to emerge from the relative safety of their quarters. Stories of death and injury to innocent bystanders circulated all through the City-and here it was again-more fuel for the cautious.
None of the victims and survivors would have appreciated Leto's observation that innocent bystanders were in relatively short supply.
Leto's acute senses detected the explosion and located it. With an instant fury which he was later to regret, he shouted for his Fish Speakers and commanded them to "wipe out the Face Dancers," even the ones he had spared earlier.
On immediate reflection, the sensation of-fury itself fascinated Leto. It had been so long since he had felt even mild anger. Frustration, irritation-these had been his limits. But now, at a threat to Hwi Noree, fury!
Reflection caused him to modify his initial command, but not before some Fish Speakers had raced from the Royal Presence, their most violent desires released by what they had seen in their Lord.
"God is furious!" some of them shouted.
The second blast caught some of the Fish Speakers emerging into the plaza, limiting the spread of Leto's modified command and igniting more violence. The third explosion, located near the first one, sent Leto himself into action. He propelled his cart like a berserk juggernaut out of his resting chamber into the Ixian lift and surged to the surface.
Leto emerged at the edge of the plaza to find a scene of chaos lighted by thousands of free-floating glowglobes released by his Fish Speakers. The central stage of the plaza had been shattered, leaving only the plasteel base intact beneath the paved surface. Broken pieces of masonry lay all around, mixed with dead and wounded.
In the direction of the Ixian Embassy, directly across the plaza from him, there was a wild surging of combat.
"Where is my Duncan?" Leto bellowed.
A guard bashar came racing across the plaza to his side where she reported through panting breaths: "We have taken him to the Citadel, Lord!"
"What is happening over there?" Leto demanded, pointing at the battle outside the Ixian Embassy.
"The rebels and the Tleilaxu are attacking the Ixian Embassy, Lord. They have explosives."
Even as she spoke, another blast erupted in front of the Embassy's shattered facade. He saw bodies twisting in the air, arching outward and falling at the perimeter of a bright flash which left an orange afterimage, studded with black dots.
With no thought of consequences, Leto shifted his cart onto suspensors and sent it bulleting across the plaza-a hurtling behemoth which sucked glowglobes into its wake. At the battle's edge, he arched over his own defenders and plunged into the attackers' flank, aware only then of lasguns which sent livid blue arcs leaping toward him. He felt his cart thudding into flesh, scattering bodies all around.
The cart spilled him directly in front of the Embassy, rolling him off onto a hard surface as it struck the rubble there. He felt lasgun beams tickle his ribbed body, then the inner surge of heat followed by a venting belch of oxygen at his tail. Instinct tucked his face deep into its cowl and folded his arms into the protective depths of his front segment. The worm-body took over, arching and flailing, rolling like an insane wheel, lashing out on all sides.
Blood lubricated the street. Blood was buffered water to his body, but death released the water. His flailing body slipped and slithered in it, the water igniting blue smoke from every flexion place where it slipped through the sandtrout skin. This filled him with water-agony which ignited more violence in the great flailing body.
At Leto's first lashing out, the Fish Speaker perimeter fell back. An alert bashar saw the opportunity now presented. She shouted above the battle noise:
"Pick off the stragglers!"
The ranks of guardian women rushed forward.
It was bloody play among the Fish Speakers for a few minutes, blades thrusting in the merciless light of the glowglobes, the dancing of lasgun arcs, even hands chopping and toes digging into vulnerable flesh. The Fish Speakers left no survivors.
Leto rolled beyond the Bloody mush in front of the Embassy, barely able to think through the waves of water-agony. The air was heavy with oxygen all around him and this helped his human senses. He summoned his cart and it drifted toward him, tipping perilously on damaged suspensors. Slowly, he wriggled onto the tipping cart and gave it the mental command to return to his quarters beneath the plaza.
Long ago, he had prepared himself against water-damage room where blasts of superheated dry air would cleanse and restore him. Sand would serve but there was no place in t e confines of Onn for the necessary expanse of sand in which he might heat and rasp his surface to its normal purity.
In the lift, he thought of Hwi and sent a message to have her brought down to him immediately.
If she survived.
He had no time now to make a prescient search; he could only hope while his body, both pre-worm and human, longed for the cleansing heat.
Once into the cleansing room, he thought to reaffirm his modified command= "Save some of the Face Dancers!" But by then the maddened Fish Speakers were spreading out through the City and he had not the strength to make a prescient sweep which would send his messengers to the proper meeting points.
A Guard captain brought him word as he was emerging from the cleansing room that Hwi Noree, although slightly wounded, was safe and would be brought to him as soon as the local commander thought it prudent.
Leto promoted the Guard captain to sub-bashar on the spot.
She was a heavyset Nayla-type but without Nayla's square face-features more rounded and closer to the older norms. She trembled in the warmth of her Lord's approval and, when he told her to return and "make doubly certain" no more harm came to Hwi, she whirled and dashed from his presence. didn't even ask her name, Leto thought, as he rolled himself onto the new cart in the depression of his small audience room. It took a few moments of reflection to recall the new sub-bashar's name-Kieuemo. The promotion would have to be reaffirmed. He lodged a mental reminder to do this personally. The Fish Speakers, all of them, would have to learn immediately how much he valued Hwi Noree. Not that there could be much doubt after tonight.
He made his prescient scan then and dispatched messengers to his rampaging Fish Speakers. By then the damage had been done-corpses all over Onn, some Face Dancers and some only-suspected Face Dancers.
And many have seen me kill, he thought.
While he waited for Hwi's arrival, he reviewed what had just happened. This had not been a typical Tleilaxu attack, but the previous attack on the road to Onn fitted into a new pattern, all of it pointing at a single mind with lethal purpose.
I could have died out there, he thought.
That began to explain why he had not anticipated this attack, but there was a deeper reason. Leto could see that reason rising into his awareness, a summation of all the clues. What human knew the God Emperor best? What human possessed a secret place from which to conspire?
Malky!
Leto summoned a guard and told her to ask if the Reverend Mother Anteac had yet left Arrakis. The guard returned in a moment to report.
"Anteac is still in her quarters. The Commander of the Fish Speaker Guard there says they have not come under attack."
"Send word to Anteac," Leto said. "Ask if she now understands why I put her delegation in quarters at a distance from me? Then tell her that while she is on Ix she must locate Malky. She is to report that location to our local garrison on Ix."
"Malky, the former Ixian Ambassador?"
"The same. He is not to remain alive and free. You will inform our garrison commander on Ix that she is to make close liaison with Anteac, providing every necessary assistance.
Malky is to be brought here to me or executed, whichever our commander finds necessary."
The guard-messenger nodded, shadows lurching across her features where she stood in the ring of light around Leto's face. She did not ask for a repetition of the orders. Each of his close guards had been trained as a human-recorder. They could repeat Leto's words exactly, even the intonations, and would never forget what they had heard him say.
When the messenger had gone, Leto sent a private signal of inquiry and, within seconds, had a response from Nayla. The Ixian device within his cart reproduced a non-identifiable version of her voice, a flatly metallic recital for his ears alone.
Yes, Siona was at the Citadel. No, Siona had not contacted her rebel companions. "No, she does not yet know that I am here observing her." The attack on the Embassy? That had been by a splinter group called "The Tleilaxu-Contact Element."
Leto allowed himself a mental sigh. Rebels always gave their groups such pretentious labels.
"Any survivors?" he asked.
"No known survivors."
Leto found it amusing that, while the metallic voice provided no emotional tones, his memory supplied them.
"You will make contact with Siona," he said. "Reveal that you are a Fish Speaker. Tell her you did not reveal this earlier because you knew she would not trust you and because you feared exposure since you are quite alone among Fish Speakers in your allegiance to Siona. Reaffirm your oath to her. Tell her that you swear by all that you hold holy to obey Siona in anything. If she commands it, you will do it. All of this is truth, as you well know."
"Yes, Lord."
Memory supplied the fanatic emphasis in Nayla's response. She would obey.
"If possible, provide opportunities for Siona and.Duncan Idaho to be alone together," he said.
"Yes, Lord."
Let propinquity take its usual course, he thought.
He broke contact with Nayla, thought for a moment, then sent for the commander of his plaza forces. The bashar arrived presently, her dark uniform stained and dusty, evidence of gore still on her boots. She was a tall, bone-thin woman with age lines which gave her aquiline features an air of powerful dignity. Leto recalled her troop-name, Iylyo, which meant "Dependable" in Old Fremen. He called her, however, by her matronymic, Nyshae, "Daughter of Shae," which set a tone of subtle intimacy for this meeting.
"Rest yourself on a cushion, Nyshae," he said. "You have been working hard."
"Thank you, Lord."
She sank onto the red cushion which Hwi had used. Leto noted the fatigue lines around Nyshae's mouth, but her eyes remained alert. She stared up at him, eager to hear his words.
"Matters are once more tranquil in my City." He made it not quite a question, leaving the interpretation to Nyshae.
"Tranquil but not good, Lord."
He glanced at the gore on her boots.
"The street in front of the Ixian Embassy?"
"It is being cleansed, Lord. Repairs already are under way."
"The plaza?"
"By morning, it will appear as it has always appeared."
Her gaze remained steady on his face. Both of them knew he had not yet reached the nubbin of this interview. But Leto now identified a thing lurking within Nyshae's expression.
Pride in her Lord!
For the first time, she had seen the God Emperor kill. The seeds of a terrible dependency had been planted. If disaster threatens, my Lord will come. That was how it appeared in her eyes. She would no longer act with complete independence, taking her power from the God Emperor and being personally responsible for the use of that power. There was something possessive in her expression. A terrible death machine waited in the wings, available at her summons.
Leto did not like what he saw, but the damage had been done. Any remedies would require slow and subtle pressures.
"Where did the attackers get lasguns?" he asked.
"From our own stores, Lord. The Arsenal Guard has been replaced."
Replaced. It was a euphemism with a certain nicety. Errant Fish Speakers were isolated and reserved until Leto found a problem which required Death Commandos. They would die gladly, of course, believing that thus they expiated their sin. And even the rumor that such berserkers had been dispatched could quiet a trouble spot.
"The arsenal was breached by explosives?" he asked. g "Stealth and explosives, Lord. The Arsenal Guard was careless."
"The source of the explosives?"
Some of Nyshae's fatigue was visible in her shrug.
Leto could only agree. He knew he could search out and identify those sources, but it would serve little purpose. Resourceful people could always find the ingredients for homemade explosives-common things such as sugar and bleaches, quite ordinary oils and innocent fertilizers, plastics and solvents and extracts from the dirt beneath a manure pile. The list was virtually endless, growing with each addition to human experience and knowledge. Even a society such as the one he had created, one which tried to limit the admixture of technology and new ideas, had no real hope of totally eliminating dangerously violent small weapons. The whole idea of controlling such things was chimera, a dangerous and distracting myth. The key was to limit the desire for violence. In that respect, this night had been a disaster.
So much new injustice, he thought.
As though she read his thought, Nyshae sighed.
Of course. Fish Speakers were trained from childhood to avoid injustice wherever possible.
"We must see to the survivors in the populace," he said. "See to it that their needs are met. They must be brought to the realization that the Tleilaxu were to blame."
Nyshae nodded. She had not reached bashar rank while remaining ignorant of the drill. By now, she believed it. Merely by hearing Leto say it, she believed in the Tleilaxu guilt. And there was a certain practicality in her understanding. She knew why they did not slay all of the Tleilaxu.
You do not eliminate every scapegoat.
"And we must provide a distraction," Leto said. "Luckily, there may be one ready at hand. I will send word to you after conferring with the Lady Hwi Noree."
"The Ixian Ambassador, Lord? Is she not implicated in..."
"She is entirely guiltless," he said.
He saw belief settle into Nyshae's features, a readymade plastic underlayment which could lock her jaw and glaze her eyes. Even Nyshae. He knew the reasons because he had created those reasons, but sometimes he felt a bit awed by his creation.
"I hear the Lady Hwi arriving in my anteroom," he said. "Send her in as you leave. And, Nyshae..."
She already was on her feet, but she stood expectantly silent.
"Tonight, I have elevated Kieuemo to sub-bashar," he said. "See that it is made official. As for yourself, I am pleased. Ask and you shall receive."
He saw the formula send a wave of pleasure through Nyshae, but she tempered it immediately, proving once more her worth to him.
"I shall test Kieuemo, Lord," she said. "If she suits, I may take a holiday. I have not seen my family on Salusa Secundus for many years."
"At a time of your own choosing," he said.
And he thought: Salusa Secundus. Of course!
That one reference to her origins reminded him of who she resembled: Harq at-Ada. She has Corrino blood. We are closer relatives than Ibad thought.
"My Lord is generous," she said.
She left him then, a new spring in her stride. He heard her voice in the anteroom: "Lady Hwi, our Lord will see you now."
Hwi entered, back-lighted and framed in the archway for a moment, hesitancy in her step until her eyes adjusted to the inner chamber. She came like a moth to the brightness around Leto's face, looking away only to seek along his shadowy length for signs of injury. He knew that no such sign was visible, but there were still aches and interior tremblings.
His eyes detected a slight limp, Hwi favoring her right leg, but a long gown of jade green concealed the injury. She stopped at the edge of the declivity which held his cart, looking directly into his eyes.
"They said you were wounded, Hwi. Are you in pain?"
"A cut on my leg below the knee, Lord. A small piece of masonry from the explosion. Your Fish Speakers treated it with a salve which removed the pain. Lord, I feared for you."
"And I feared for you, gentle Hwi."
"Except for that first explosion, I was not in danger, Lord. They rushed me into a room deep beneath the Embassy."
So she did not see my performance, he thought. I can be thankful for that.
"I sent for you to ask your forgiveness," he said.
She sank onto a golden cushion. "What is there to forgive, Lord? You are not the reason for..."
"I am being tested, Hwi."
"You?"
"There are those who wish to know the depths of my concern for the safety of Hwi Noree."
She pointed upward. "That... was because of me?"
"Because of us."
"Oh. But who..."
"You have agreed to wed me, Hwi, and I..." He raised a hand to silence her as she started to speak. "Anteac has told us what you revealed to her, but this did not originate with Anteac."
"Then who is.." - "The who is not important. It is important that you reconsider. I must give you this opportunity to change your mind."
She lowered her gaze.
How sweet her features are, he thought.
It was possible for him to create only in his imagination an entire human lifetime with Hwi. Enough examples lay in the welter of his memories upon which to build a fantasy of wedded life. It gathered nuances in his fancy-small details of mutual experience, a touch, a kiss, all of the sweet sharings upon which arose something of painful beauty. He ached with it, a pain far deeper than the physical reminders of his violence at the Embassy.
Hwi lifted her chin and looked into his eyes. He saw there a compassionate longing to help him.
"But how else may I serve you, Lord?"
He reminded himself that she was a primate, while he no longer was fully primate. The differences grew deeper by the minute.
The ache remained within him.
Hwi was an inescapable reality, something so basic that no word could ever fully express it. The ache within him was almost more than he could bear.
" love you, Hwi. I love you as a man loves a woman... but it cannot be. That will never be."
Tears flowed from her eyes. "Should I leave? Should I return to Ix?"
"They would only hurt you, trying to find out what went wrong with their plan."
She has seen my pain, he thought. She knows the futility and frustration. What will she do? She will not lie. She will not say she returns my love as a woman to a man. She recognizes the futility. And.she knows her own feelings for me compassion, awe, a questioning which ignores fear.
"Then I will stay," she said. "We will take such pleasure as we can from being together. I think it is best that we do this. If it means we should wed, so be it."
"Then I must share knowledge with you which I have shared with no other person," he said. "It will give you a power over me which..."
"Do not do this, Lord! What if someone forced me to...'"
"You will never again leave my household. My quarters here, the Citadel, the safe places of the Sareer-these will be your home."
"As you will."
How gentle and open her quiet acceptance, he thought.
The aching pulse within him had to be calmed. In itself, it was a danger to him and to the Golden Path.
Those clever Ixians!
Malky had seen how the all-powerful were forced to contend with a constant siren song-the will to self-delight.
Constant awareness of the power in your slightest whim.
Hwi took his silence to be uncertainty. "Will we wed, Lord?"