The Winds Of Dune Part 16

As Jessica finished her lengthy story, the restless but fascinated Ir-ulan began to pace around the garden enclosure. She shook her head, as if to scatter the words that buzzed around her like biting flies. "So, more parts of Paul's past unfold. He never told me such things, never hinted-"

Jessica's throat was scratchy. "You already knew that he kept many things from you. You've had to rewrite your stories to incorporate new information. Paul understood exactly what he was doing." Suddenly leery of being overheard, she spoke quietly in one of the Bene Gesserit languages that no normal spy would ever understand. "Believe me, you do Paul no service by writing this sanitized, glorified version of him. You are sowing a minefield for the future of humanity."

Irulan rounded on her, speaking in the same language. "How do you know what he would have wanted? You left Paul and Arrakis, abandoned the Jihad. For most of your son's rule, during his worst stresses and challenges, you were on Caladan. I may have been his wife in name only, but at least I was at his side."

Jessica hesitated, not wanting to reveal all her secrets just yet. "I was still his mother. Even during his rule, Paul ... trusted me with things he never told you."

The two reached a flagstoned contemplation area, where a pool of golden, mutated carp swam beneath a transparent moisture-seal dome. Irulan heaved a long sigh and spoke again in common Galach, not needing to hide her words. "I agree, philosophically, that it's important for the people to know what you have revealed to me. While the background material doesn't excuse Bronso's crimes, at least it explains his bitter grudge against Paul. It exposes his motivation for spreading destructive lies. His hatred is personal, obsessive, irrational."

Feeling sad, Jessica said, "You still don't see. As a Bene Gesserit, you you of all people should understand that when one wheel turns, it turns another, and yet another." The Princess stiffened, looked insulted. While she stared down at the circling koi in the s.h.i.+elded pond, Jessica faced her evenly. "Listen to me, Irulan. You know only part of the story." Catching her glance, she moved her fingers in an even more secret Bene Gesserit coded language. "Bronso was, and is, doing of all people should understand that when one wheel turns, it turns another, and yet another." The Princess stiffened, looked insulted. While she stared down at the circling koi in the s.h.i.+elded pond, Jessica faced her evenly. "Listen to me, Irulan. You know only part of the story." Catching her glance, she moved her fingers in an even more secret Bene Gesserit coded language. "Bronso was, and is, doing exactly what Paul wanted exactly what Paul wanted."

Irulan crossed her arms in a closed, obstinate gesture, and she spoke defiantly out loud, still in Galach. "What Paul wanted? To defame his character? How can that possibly be? n.o.body will believe that! Certainly, Alia will never believe it." Now, her fingers flickered as she added silently, "And she will never let me write what you're saying. It is ridiculous, and dangerous."

"It is indeed dangerous knowledge, Irulan. I realize that. You will have to be cautious-but let me tell you the rest, so that you can decide for yourself."

Irulan's expression became stony, and she erected a wall of denial around herself. Leaving the koi pond behind, she stopped at a doorway that led into cool interior shadows. "I'll tell you when I'm ready to continue this."

The greatest obligation of a mother is to support her children, to show them love and respect, and to accept them. Sometimes this is a most difficult task.

-LADY JESSICA, d.u.c.h.ess of Caladan

Stirring up so many memories from her past had exhausted Jessica, and she went to s.n.a.t.c.h a moment of quiet within the creche where her grandchildren were held. Harah was still there watching over the infants, just as she had done with little Alia. Stilgar's wife had stood as a determined wall against all the mutterings and Fremen prejudices about Alia's strangenesses. Even as the girl matured into a powerful role, first as priestess and then as Regent, Jessica knew that Harah would always have a special place in her daughter's heart.

When the priest guards allowed Jessica to enter the lush conservatory, Harah bowed deferentially. Jessica touched the woman's chin and raised her face, saw the dark hair that swept back like raven's wings at the sides. "Come now, Harah, we've known each other too long for such formalities."

Harah stepped back so Jessica could peer down at the two silent and eerily alert babies. "Now would you like to hold your grandchildren?" Her voice held an undertone of disapproval that Jessica had taken so long to come.

Strangely reticent, Jessica bent down and picked up the girl. Ghanima settled into the crook of her grandmother's arm as if she belonged there, accepting this new person without fussing or crying. From the basket below, little Leto II watched with clear blue eyes wide open, as though to make sure his twin sister was all right. Given that their father was the Kwisatz Haderach, what kind of children might they grow up to be? basket below, little Leto II watched with clear blue eyes wide open, as though to make sure his twin sister was all right. Given that their father was the Kwisatz Haderach, what kind of children might they grow up to be?

Alia burst into the creche room with Duncan Idaho close beside her; she moved with an excitement, a cheerful energy that she had not shown since Jessica's arrival on Dune. Alia wore a broad smile. "I'd hoped to find you here, Mother. I wanted you to be the first to hear our announcement. Ah-and Harah, too! This is perfect." Alia folded her fingers around Duncan's, and the ghola stared with his eerie metal eyes.

Harah took the baby back from Jessica, replaced her in the small crib. Alia tossed her own coppery hair, making her announcement. "We have seen the need. After so much turmoil, the Imperium needs something to cheer, a pleasant spectacle that can show new hope for the future. Duncan and I have decided to move quickly. We have no doubts."

Jessica felt an unexpected knot in her stomach, instinctively wondering what her daughter had decided to do. Why wasn't the ghola saying anything?

In a bright voice that sounded like an imitation of joy rather than real happiness, Alia said, "Duncan and I are going to be married. We're a perfect match, and we love each other in ways that most people cannot understand."

Alia was barely sixteen, and Duncan was practically Jessica's age-the original Duncan at least. But Alia had been born with a panoply of adult memories; inside her mind, the girl had already experienced countless marriages, lifelong happy relations.h.i.+ps, as well as those shattered by tragedy and strife.

And Duncan wasn't the same Duncan either.

Jessica tried to find the right thing to say. "This is ... unexpected. Are you sure you aren't being too impulsive?"

Instantly, she regretted her own comment. All decisions didn't have to be the result of cold calculations-she wasn't a Mentat! Despite her Bene Gesserit training (and much to the Sisterhood's dismay), Jessica made decisions with her heart as well as her mind. She had done that when she'd chosen to conceive Paul in the first place. And Alia afterward ...

Alia spoke with great surety. "Duncan is the right man, Mother, the man who can help me hold the Imperium together. I hope to have your support."

Jessica looked at her daughter. "As your mother, how could I offer anything else?" The smile and the sincerity, though, came much harder. "And who could ask for a braver, more loyal man than Duncan Idaho?"

The ghola spoke up for the first time, his words and voice sounding so familiar. "I realize this must be strange to you, Lady Jessica. I died for you and for your son. And now I love your daughter, who wasn't even born before my first life ended."

Jessica wondered why it was that she greeted this news with so little enthusiasm. Am I just being selfish? Am I just being selfish? she thought. she thought. My Duke loved me, but he never made me his wife. Paul loved Chani, but never made her his wife My Duke loved me, but he never made me his wife. Paul loved Chani, but never made her his wife.

And now Alia and Duncan. A strange pair, but oddly suited to each other.

Jessica reached out to place one hand on the ghola's arm and the other on Alia's. "Of course you have my blessing."

"Oh, child, I do hope you will be happy," Harah said. "You need strength. And if this man is the one to give it to you, then you two must be wed."

"Together, we will rule the Imperium and keep it strong." Alia glanced down at the babies. "Until Leto and Ghanima come of age, of course."

Bless the Maker and His water. Bless the coming and going of Him. May His pa.s.sage cleanse the world. May He keep the world for His people.

-Fremen water ceremony

The excavated cave was a temporary camp, not an actual sietch, just a known stopping place for Fremen traveling across the desert. Located in Plaster Basin, the cave was far from the cultural amenities of Arrakeen: the shops, restaurants, and s.p.a.ceport. And far from all the people.

Stilgar had chosen the perfect place for Chani's water ceremony, and Jessica approved of it. While Alia was beginning her wedding preparations, as well as responding to a new inflammatory doc.u.ment that Bronso of Ix had released, Jessica and the Naib had slipped away into the desert, to be among the Fremen again.

After so many years, Jessica knew she should feel like a stranger among these people, an interloper, but knew she belonged entirely. Stilgar had summoned the appropriate Fremen, arranged the ceremony, and Jessica felt a deep sense of reverence here, an intimacy. Yes, after the circus of Paul's funeral, this was how such things should be, much more like the private remembrance she had given Paul out at Sietch Tabr. She was sure Chani would have approved of this. And Alia's other ceremony for Chani, using ordinary water, was irrelevant to the true mourners.

The few habitable grottoes that remained in the Plaster Basin caves had once been part of a much larger complex used as a biological test area by Kynes-the-Umma, also known as Pardot Kynes, the father of Liet and grandfather of Chani. Until recent years, the elder Kynes was barely known in the Imperium, but because of the effect he had on Arrakis, his name was spoken of everywhere.

Pardot had been the instigator of terraforming activities on Dune, and a truly visionary man. Almost half a century ago, the elder Kynes had begun his work using materials gleaned from abandoned Imperial research stations. He had applied knowledge learned from formal Imperial ecological training as well as experiences gleaned from surviving on numerous harsh planets. Here, inside the deep caves of Plaster Basin, Pardot had created an underground oasis to prove that a garden could thrive on Dune. But over the years too much moisture had weakened the cave walls, causing a structural collapse that destroyed his oasis and killed the man.

But not his dreams. Never his dreams.

Dedicated followers of Kynes's vision had returned here to reestablish a few plantings of saguaro, mesquite, low p.r.i.c.kly pear cactus, and even two water-greedy dwarf portyguls. Yes, Jessica thought, a fitting place to honor Chani in the Fremen way. It was not a spectacle for strangers.

Stilgar had learned a great deal about politics and human nature in the years since he began following Muad'Dib. Here, though, he was about to do something without politics for the young female member of his troop who had been his niece, and so much more to so many people.

Taking care not to spill a drop, Jessica and the Naib emptied the literjons of water that he had carefully smuggled out of the Citadel of Muad'Dib over the course of several weeks. They poured the liquid into a large communal basin that rested on a shelf of rock. Moisture seals had been closed across the cave entrance, so that the men and women could remove their noseplugs and face masks. The scent of water in the air made Jessica's blood flow faster.

As if she were a priestess, as Alia had become, Jessica turned to look upon the hundred gathered Fremen. Stilgar stood beside her like a pillar, gruff and respectful. Jessica had helped him choose each partic.i.p.ant after careful consideration, men and women from Sietch Tabr who had traveled with Chani and Paul during the guerrilla struggles against Beast Rabban and the Harkonnens. Though years had pa.s.sed, Jessica knew every face and name. Surprisingly, even Harah was here-Stilgar's wife, Chani's friend. But they had to keep this ceremony a secret from Alia. traveled with Chani and Paul during the guerrilla struggles against Beast Rabban and the Harkonnens. Though years had pa.s.sed, Jessica knew every face and name. Surprisingly, even Harah was here-Stilgar's wife, Chani's friend. But they had to keep this ceremony a secret from Alia.

These Fremen respected Chani as a Fremen, Fremen, not just because of her connection to Paul. Jessica knew they were not religious sycophants, not self-important members of the Qizarate. They represented many tribes, and would take this memory back with them, and spread it among their people. not just because of her connection to Paul. Jessica knew they were not religious sycophants, not self-important members of the Qizarate. They represented many tribes, and would take this memory back with them, and spread it among their people.

When all the observers stood silent, their voices quelled in pregnant antic.i.p.ation, Stilgar deferred and Jessica began to speak. "We have gathered for Chani, beloved daughter of Liet, granddaughter of Kynes-the-Umma, and mother of Muad'Dib's children."

A murmur pa.s.sed like a sunset breeze through the people. Jessica looked out and saw Harah's eyes s.h.i.+ning, her earnest face bobbing up and down as she nodded.

Stilgar touched the edge of the basin, ran his finger along the ornate bas-relief designs. With a quick twist, he unsealed the access lid and removed it, so that the precious liquid could be dispensed. "The flesh belongs to the individual, but the water belongs to the tribe, and to the dreams of the tribe. Thus Chani returns her water to us."

"'The flesh belongs to the individual, but the water belongs to the tribe.' " The gathered witnesses repeated the phrase, intoning it like a prayer. Here in the confined cave chamber, Jessica could smell the heady overlapping mixture of moist odors that combined dust, dried sweat, and melange.

When Stilgar fell silent, she continued. "Though the Fremen have sipped and collected and stolen every drop for the green transformation of Arrakis, this place in Plaster Basin has a special significance to us all. These plantings are symbols, reminders of what Chani's grandfather and father envisioned for Dune. We now use Chani's water to help them thrive. Green is the color of mourning, but here it is also the color of hope."

Stilgar withdrew a demi-cup of water from the basin and walked to the nearest mesquite, whose warm multichord scent lifted like a whisper from its leaves and bark. "Chani was my friend. She was a member of my Fremen troop, a fighter, a boon companion. She was with me when we found a boy and his mother lost in the desert. She did not know it then, but she had already lost her father Liet to the Harkonnens ... and yet she found her true love." He poured the water at the base of the plant, letting it soak into the thirsty roots. "The strength of a woman can be boundless. In this manner, the sacred ruh-spirit of Chani, beloved companion of Paul-Muad 'Dib, remains an eternal part of Dune." of my Fremen troop, a fighter, a boon companion. She was with me when we found a boy and his mother lost in the desert. She did not know it then, but she had already lost her father Liet to the Harkonnens ... and yet she found her true love." He poured the water at the base of the plant, letting it soak into the thirsty roots. "The strength of a woman can be boundless. In this manner, the sacred ruh-spirit of Chani, beloved companion of Paul-Muad 'Dib, remains an eternal part of Dune."

Jessica carried a second tiny cup of water to one of the struggling portyguls. The six hard, green fruits dangling from its branches would turn orange like a setting sun as they ripened. "Chani was my friend. She was the mother of my grandchildren, and she was my son's true love." It had been hard for her at first, but Jessica had indeed accepted Paul's Fremen woman, had told him that she loved Chani herself. She drew a breath now. "Even when all of humanity shouted his name, she made Paul remember that he was human."

Stilgar motioned for Harah to be next. His wife, normally so outspoken, sounded nervous as she spoke. Jessica could see the emotions barely held in check by her set face. "Chani was my friend, a Fremen woman and a Fremen warrior. She was-" Harah's voice cracked. "As Usul was the base of the pillar, she was his base, his his support." support."

The hundred guests came forward in a special type of communion, doling out sips of Chani's essence in a hushed and reverential ceremony. They took small measures of Chani's water for the plantings, while the remainder would be poured into the communal reservoir.

"It is said that Muad'Dib will never be found, but all men will find him," Stilgar announced as the final audience member emptied his demi-cup. "Chani's water will never be found, yet all Fremen in the tribes will find her."

Jessica added, "She did not wish to be deified. Chani, daughter of Liet, will be sacred to us in her own way. She needs nothing more, nor do we."

None of the Fremen here comprehended the vastness of Muad'Dib's empire or the underlying tangles of his Jihad, but they knew Chani, and understood what this ceremony meant for her ident.i.ty as a Fremen.

When the somber gathering was over, Jessica whispered, "We did a good thing today, Stilgar."

"Yes, and now we can go back to Arrakeen and continue as before, but I feel rejuvenated. I must confess to you, Sayyadina Jessica, that I have long experienced a desire to withdraw from the government, to make myself remote from the wider and more unpleasant realities I've seen ... just as Muad'Dib withdrew from his place in history by walking off into the desert."

"Sometimes it is a brave gesture to withdraw." Jessica remembered how she had turned her back during the heat of the Jihad, how she would soon return to Caladan to govern the people there. "And sometimes it is braver to stay."

He began fitting his stillsuit, twisted a noseplug into place, and brushed dust from his cloak. "I will continue to advise Regent Alia, and will watch over the children of Muad'Dib. In those duties, I shall always hold true to my Fremen self. Come, we must return to Arrakeen, before your daughter notices that we are gone."

My loyalty has always been to House Atreides, yet the needs of the various Atreides are often contradictory-Alia, Jessica, Paul, Duke Leto, even the newborn twins. That is where loyalty and honor become complicated and depend upon good judgment.

-GURNEY HALLECK

Though Bronso of Ix had been a wanted man for seven years already, Alia launched an even more vigorous hunt to find him and stop his never-ending character-a.s.sa.s.sination campaign against Paul Atreides. She felt his diatribes as personal affronts, and she wanted him captured before her wedding.

She placed Duncan Idaho in charge, with Gurney Halleck to offer any possible help-just like old times.

The ghola met with Gurney in a private room in a large and mostly empty wing of the Citadel. "Remember when we both went chasing after Rabban at the end of the military debacle on Grumman?" Gurney asked, taking a seat. "We ran him down, cornered him above a hydroelectric dam."

Duncan looked at him without amus.e.m.e.nt. "I see you're still testing me-it was at a waterfall in a steep canyon, not a dam. That was when I first blooded my own sword." He narrowed his artificial eyes. "Bronso is a far more devious man than Beast Rabban, and much more elusive. You should concentrate on hunting him, not on testing my memories."

Gurney made a low grunt. "You may have all your memories, my friend, but you don't seem to have your old sense of humor."

Duncan leaned forward, elbows on his knees in a surprisingly casual gesture. "We've got a job to do, and Bronso will not make it easy. Over the years, he's attempted to eliminate all images of himself from public records, and he's been so successful that he must have had help from influential sources-the s.p.a.cing Guild, perhaps, or the Bene Gesserit. gesture. "We've got a job to do, and Bronso will not make it easy. Over the years, he's attempted to eliminate all images of himself from public records, and he's been so successful that he must have had help from influential sources-the s.p.a.cing Guild, perhaps, or the Bene Gesserit.

"Paul made powerful enemies. Therefore, Bronso has allies out in the Imperium, people who agree with his a.s.sessment of Muad'Dib's governmental excesses-disenfranchised members of the Landsraad, certainly the Guild and the Sisterhood, along with loyalists of the fallen Corrino Emperor."

Gurney frowned, scratched his chin. "But Bronso has also mortally offended many. I can't believe someone hasn't turned him in by now."

"The first time he was arrested, it did no good," Duncan said.

"Aye, but he wouldn't have gotten away if you or I had been in charge of security."

Three years earlier, during the final battles of the Jihad, Bronso Vernius had been thrown into a death cell and interrogated by ruthless Qizara inquisitors. According to the sketchy records Gurney could uncover about the embarra.s.sing incident, the priests had kept Bronso there in secret, not even informing Muad'Dib ... yet Bronso had escaped, and continued his seditious crusade.

Given the incredible security inside Muad'Dib's citadel, it did not seem possible that the renegade could have broken free without help-one rumor even suggested that Paul himself had a hand in it, although Gurney couldn't imagine why he would have done that. The Qizarate had tried to cover up the debacle, but word slipped out anyway, and the legend of Bronso of Ix grew....

Now, after the Ixian's outrageous actions during Paul's funeral, Alia offered vast rewards of spice, and blessings in the name of Muad'Dib, for Bronso's arrest. But he was as mysterious and impossible to find as the outlaw Muad'Dib had been during his desert years. Having studied Paul so thoroughly-if only to criticize him-Bronso might be using similar techniques to elude capture.

"He couldn't have eliminated all all images of himself," Gurney said. "Bronso was the heir to House Vernius. There must be Landsraad records?" images of himself," Gurney said. "Bronso was the heir to House Vernius. There must be Landsraad records?"

"They were either lost in the Jihad and the sacking of Kaitain, or intentionally deleted by cooperative Landsraad representatives. Paul made few friends there, and under Alia their power is slipping even further." Duncan fas.h.i.+oned a smile. "However, we've obtained images from the Ixian Confederation, who have no great love for him. They're still trying to buy themselves back into Alia's good graces. And I have a perfect memory of Bronso from when he was younger, when he was with Paul." made few friends there, and under Alia their power is slipping even further." Duncan fas.h.i.+oned a smile. "However, we've obtained images from the Ixian Confederation, who have no great love for him. They're still trying to buy themselves back into Alia's good graces. And I have a perfect memory of Bronso from when he was younger, when he was with Paul."

"He was just a boy then. This is a lot different from the last time you and I went hunting for him."

"But we will find him-as we did before." Duncan drew out a crystalpad projector, called up an entry. "I followed the distribution of his new tracts. They seem to appear at random, all over the place, on world after world, involving people who have no obvious connection to each other, no political similarities, no apparent grudges against Paul. I believe Bronso has a Heighliner distribution network, using the Guild, possibly even without their knowledge."

Gurney scowled. "On our journey here, Jessica and I saw one of his manifestos left out in a public drinking establishment. At least some of the Wayku are involved. Bronso may have thousands of converts helping him, slipping publications to random travelers who inadvertently carry them to far-flung places, like a gaze hound transports ticks."

Duncan showed no surprise at the idea. "I've already developed a plan. I have recruited nine hundred trained Mentats. Each one has memorized Bronso's appearance from the images the Ixians provided, and they keep watch for him in s.p.a.ceports, in cities, anywhere he is likely to appear."

"Nine hundred Mentats? G.o.ds below, I didn't know you could gain access to so many." Mentats? G.o.ds below, I didn't know you could gain access to so many."

"Nine hundred. If any one of them sees Bronso, he will be recognized and reported." Duncan stood up as if to adjourn the meeting. "I believe we should concentrate our efforts here on Arrakis. It's a gut feeling."

"A gut feeling? Now there's the old Duncan. You truly think he's here somewhere?"

"Specifically, in Arrakeen."

Gurney's brow furrowed. "Why would Bronso come here? He knows it's not safe. This would be the last place I'd expect to see him."

"That is precisely why I believe he's here, or soon will be. I've performed a detailed a.n.a.lysis of the movements and distributions of his publications. It fits his pattern. I can explain the Mentat derivation if you like, but it will take some time." Duncan raised his eyebrows.

"I trust your conclusions, whether or not I understand them. Meanwhile, I'll put the word out among my old smuggler contacts. There's a chance Bronso might seek their aid-his grandfather Dominic had quite a network among them." Including me Including me. "We'll find him."

Duncan walked to the door. "Of course we will. We have resources he cannot match. And if you and I work together, no man can stand against us."

Gurney Halleck was always pleased when Jessica asked to see him. She called for him to meet her in the underground levels of the palace; the tunnels that had once been beneath the Arrakeen Residency were now access pa.s.sages to huge buried cisterns that held water for daily use by the thousands of inhabitants. She had recently returned from the desert, but had been reluctant to tell him about it.

Normally, whenever the mother of Muad'Dib moved from chamber to chamber or went out into the city, a flock of functionaries followed her, but Jessica had brushed them aside under the pretense that she needed to inspect the palace's water supply without any interference. Gurney knew the real reason she had gone alone: She wanted a quiet, private place to speak with him.