The Winds Of Dune Part 3

"My brother gave them names as one of his last acts, before he ... left. The boy is Leto, named after our father. The girl is called Ghanima."

"Ghanima?" Gurney sat back with a frown, recognizing the Fremen term. "A spoil of war?"

"Paul insisted. Harah was there with Chani at the end, and now she watches the newborn babies. Since Harah was Muad'Dib's ghanima ghanima after he killed Jamis, maybe he meant it to honor her. We'll never know." after he killed Jamis, maybe he meant it to honor her. We'll never know."

The 'thopter flew over the huddled rooftops of Arrakeen, the hive-like homes of a disorganized, pa.s.sionate, desperate throng: pilgrims, opportunists, beggars, veterans of the Jihad, dreamers, and those who had no place else to go.

Alia spoke loudly over the thrum of the engines and the whir of moving wings. She seemed energetic, frenetic. "Now that you're here, Mother, we can proceed with Paul's funeral. It is a thing that must be done with a grandeur appropriate to Muad'Dib's greatness-enough to awe the whole Imperium."

Jessica kept her expression neutral. "It is a funeral, not a Jongleur performance."

"Oh, but even a Jongleur performance would be fitting, given Paul's past, don't you think?" Alia chuckled; it was clear she already had her mind set. "Besides, it is necessary, not just for my brother's memory, but for Imperial stability. The force of Paul's personality held our government together-without him, I've got to do whatever I can to strengthen our inst.i.tutions. It's a time for showmans.h.i.+p, bravura. How can Muad'Dib's funeral be any less spectacular than one of the Old Duke's bullfighting spectacles?" When the girl smiled, Jessica saw a familiar echo of Leto in her daughter's face. "We also have Chani's water, and when it best suits us, we will conduct a ceremony for her as well, another great spectacle."

"Wouldn't Chani have preferred a private Fremen funeral?"

"Stilgar says the same thing, but that would be a wasted opportunity. Chani would have wanted to a.s.sist me in any way possible-for Paul's sake, if nothing else. I was hoping I could count on you to help me, Mother."

"I am here." Jessica looked at her daughter and felt complexities of sadness whisper through her. But you are not Paul. But you are not Paul.

She also knew things that her daughter did not, some of Paul's carefully guarded secrets and aspirations, especially how he viewed history and his place in it. Though Paul might have taken himself off the stage, history would not release its hold so easily.

With a slow flutter of wings and the roar of jets, the 'thopter landed on a flat rooftop of the extraordinary citadel complex. Disembarking, Alia strode with confidence and grace to a moisture-sealed door. Jessica and Gurney followed her into an elegant enclosed conservatory with soaring clearplaz panels. and Gurney followed her into an elegant enclosed conservatory with soaring clearplaz panels.

Inside, the sudden humidity made Jessica catch her breath, but Alia seemed not to notice the miniature jungle of moist, exotic plants that overhung the walkway. Tossing her long hair, she glanced back at her mother. "This is the most secure area of the Citadel, so we converted it into the nursery."

Two Qizaras armed with long kindjals guarded an arched doorway, but the priests stepped aside without a word to let the party pa.s.s. Inside the main chamber, three Fedaykin stood ready and alert.

Female attendants in traditional Fremen garments bustled back and forth. Harah, who had once been nursemaid and companion to Alia, stood like an attentive mother over the twins, as if they were hers. She looked up at Alia, then flashed a nod of recognition to Jessica.

Jessica stepped forward to look down at Leto and Ghanima, surprised by how the two children struck her with a sense of awe. They seemed so flawless, so young and helpless, barely a month old. She realized she was trembling a little. Jessica set aside all thoughts of the Empire-shaking news she had received in the last few days.

As if they were linked, both babies turned their faces toward her simultaneously, opened their wide-set blue eyes, and stared with an awareness that startled Jessica. Alia had looked that alert when she was just a baby....

"They are under close observation for their behavior and interactions," Alia said. "More than anyone else, I understand the difficulties they might face."

Harah was forceful. "We do our best to care for them as Chani, and Usul, would have wanted."

Kneeling, Jessica reached out to stroke the small, delicate faces. The babies looked at her, then locked gazes with each other, and something indefinable pa.s.sed between them.

To the Sisterhood, babies were just genetic products, links in a long chain of bloodlines. Among the Bene Gesserit, children were raised without any emotional connection to their mothers, often without any knowledge of their parentage. Jessica herself, a ward of the Mother School on Wallach IX, had not been told that her father was the Baron Harkonnen and her mother Gaius Helen Mohiam. Though her own upbringing among the emotionally stifled Bene Gesserit had been less than ideal, her heart went out to her grandchildren, as she contemplated the turbulent lives that undoubtedly lay ahead of them. Harkonnen and her mother Gaius Helen Mohiam. Though her own upbringing among the emotionally stifled Bene Gesserit had been less than ideal, her heart went out to her grandchildren, as she contemplated the turbulent lives that undoubtedly lay ahead of them.

Again, Jessica thought of poor Chani. One life in exchange for two ... She'd grown to respect the Fremen woman for her wisdom and her intense loyalty to Paul. How could he not have foreseen such a terrible blow as the loss of his beloved? Or had had he known, but could do nothing about it? Such paralysis in the face of fate could have driven any man mad.... he known, but could do nothing about it? Such paralysis in the face of fate could have driven any man mad....

"Would you like to hold them?" Harah asked.

It had been a long time since she'd held a baby. "Later. I just ... just want to look at them right now."

Alia remained caught up in her visions of ceremonies and spectacles. "It is a very busy time, Mother. We need to do so much to give the people hope, now that Muad'Dib has gone. In addition to the two funerals, we will soon have a christening. Each such spectacle is designed to remind the people of how much they love us."

"They are children, not tools of statecraft," Jessica said, but she knew better. The Bene Gesserit had taught her that every person had potential uses-as a tool, or a weapon.

"Oh, Mother, you used to be so much more pragmatic."

Jessica stroked little Leto's face and drew a deep breath, but found no words to speak aloud. No doubt, political machinations were already occurring around these children.

Sourly, she thought of what the Bene Gesserits had done to her and to so many others like her, including the particularly harsh treatment they had inflicted on Tessia, the wife of the cyborg prince Rhombur Vernius....

The Bene Gesserit always had their reasons, their justifications, their rationalizations.

I write what is true about Muad'Dib, or what should be true. Some critics accuse me of distorting the facts and writing shameless misinformation. But I write with the blood of fallen heroes, painted on the enduring stone of Muad'Dib's empire! Let these critics return in a thousand years and look at history; then see if they dismiss my work as mere propaganda.

-PRINCESS IRULAN, "The Legacy of Muad'Dib," draft ma.n.u.script The quality of a government can be measured by counting the number of its prison cells built to hold dissidents.' " Jessica recalled the political maxim she had been taught in the Bene Gesserit school. During her years of indoctrination, the Sisters had filled her mind with many questionable beliefs, but that statement, at least, was true.

On the day after her arrival in Arrakeen, she tracked down where Princess Irulan was being held. During her search of the detention records, Jessica was astonished to discover just how much of her son's sprawling fortress was devoted to prison blocks, interrogation chambers, and death cells. The list of crimes that warranted the ultimate penalty had grown substantially over the last few years.

Had Paul known about that? Had he approved?

It was probably wise that Reverend Mother Mohiam had been killed without a drawn-out trial, which would have allowed the Bene Gesserit to disrupt the government. And Jessica did not doubt that the old Reverend Mother was truly guilty.

But Irulan remained locked away, her fate undecided. Having reviewed the evidence herself, Jessica knew that Shaddam's daughter had been involved in the conspiracy, though her exact role was not clear. The Princess languished in one of the death cells operated by the Qizarate, but so far, Alia had refused to sign the death warrant. clear. The Princess languished in one of the death cells operated by the Qizarate, but so far, Alia had refused to sign the death warrant.

During her first month as Regent, the girl had already caused enough of an uproar, offended many potential allies, provoked numerous possible enemies. There were larger issues to consider. Alia was wise to delay her decision.

Jessica had first met the Emperor's eldest daughter on Kaitain in the last months before giving birth to Paul. Since the downfall of Shaddam, Irulan had done much for, and some things against, Paul. But how much against him? Now, however, Jessica hoped she could stop the execution, for reasons both political and personal.

She marched down to the prison levels without an escort, having memorized the route from charts. Standing before the metal door of Irulan's sealed cell, she scrutinized strange markings on the wall, mystical symbols modeled after the writings of the vanished Muadru race. Paul's priesthood had apparently adopted the ancient runes for their own purposes.

Outside Irulan's cell stood two fiercely loyal Qizara guards, implacable priests who had advanced through the religious power structure that had sprung up around Paul, a structure that Alia intended to preserve or even expand. While these men would never defy the direct orders of the Regent, they also viewed Jessica with dread and reverence, and she could use that.

With squared shoulders, Jessica stepped up to them. "Stand aside. I wish to see my son's wife."

She expected an argument, or at least resistance, but the priestly guards did not think to question her command. If she had asked them to fall upon their crysknives, she wondered, would they have done that, too? With simultaneous bows, they unsealed the cell door and allowed her to enter.

Inside the dim and stifling room, the blonde Princess rose quickly from the bench on which she sat. She composed herself and straightened her rumpled clothes, even managing a slight bow. "Lady Jessica. I expected you would come to Arrakis as soon as you heard what had happened. I'm glad you arrived before my execution."

Despite the shadows of the cell, Jessica could see the haunted, resigned look in the Princess's once green eyes, which were now spiceindigo. Even Bene Gesserit calming techniques could not a.s.suage the persistent wasting of fear and tension. Even Bene Gesserit calming techniques could not a.s.suage the persistent wasting of fear and tension.

"There will be no execution." Without hesitating, Jessica turned to the priest guards. "Princess Irulan is to be released at once and returned to her former rooms. She is the daughter of Emperor Shaddam IV and the wife of Muad'Dib, as well as his official biographer. These quarters are unacceptable."

The two guards were taken aback. One of the priests made a warding sign against evil. "Regent Alia has ordered Irulan's incarceration, pending her conviction."

"And I order this." Jessica's voice was neither flippant nor threatening; she was simply stating a fact, filled with confidence. All other questions hung unanswered in the air, leaving the guards intimidated at the prospect of defying her wishes.

With all the elegance she could muster, Irulan took three steps to meet Jessica at the cell door, but did not cross the threshold. Despite her great stake in the outcome of this small power struggle, her patrician face betrayed no relief, only a distant expression of interest.

As the guards shuffled, neither of them willing to commit to a decision, Jessica continued in a reasonable tone. "There is nothing to fear. Do you believe she would attempt to escape? That a Corrino princess would run into the desert with a Fremkit and try to survive? Irulan will remain here in the Citadel, under house arrest, until Alia can issue a formal pardon."

Taking advantage of the guards' hesitation, the Princess stepped out of her cell to stand beside Jessica. "I thank you for your courtesy and your faith in me."

Jessica remained cool. "I will withhold judgment until I learn more about what role you had in my son's death."

They walked briskly away from the priest guards until they were alone and un.o.bserved. Irulan drew a shuddering breath, and Jessica heard the truth in her words when she spoke. "In that cell I've had much time to contemplate. Although I did not try to kill Paul ... in a way I did cause his death. I am at least partly responsible for what happened."

Jessica was surprised by the easy admission. "Because you failed to expose the conspiracy when you had the chance?"

"And because I was jealous of his love for that Fremen woman. I I wanted to be the mother of his heirs, so I secretly added contraceptives to Chani's food. Over the long term, those drugs damaged her, and when she did become pregnant, the delivery killed her." She looked intensely at Jessica, her indigo eyes intense. "I did not know she would die!" wanted to be the mother of his heirs, so I secretly added contraceptives to Chani's food. Over the long term, those drugs damaged her, and when she did become pregnant, the delivery killed her." She looked intensely at Jessica, her indigo eyes intense. "I did not know she would die!"

Jessica's training automatically damped down her anger, just as it had kept her from expressing her true grief. Now she understood more about what had driven her son, and Irulan. "And in his despair Paul chose to walk out into the desert. He had nothing to hold him back, no loving companion. He didn't care enough for any person to make him want to live. So that is your fault."

Irulan skewered Jessica with her desperate gaze. "Now you know the truth. If you want me to return to the death cell, I'll go willingly, so long as the punishment you decree is honest and swift."

Jessica found it hard to maintain her composure. "Maybe we'll exile you to Salusa Secundus with your father ... or maybe you should stay here, where you can be watched."

"I can watch over Paul's children. That is what I want, and need."

Jessica wasn't convinced that this woman should be allowed near the twins. "That will be decided later-if you survive." She guided the Princess out of the prison levels. "Enjoy your freedom. I can't guarantee how long it will last."

Though furious, Alia had the presence of mind to confront Jessica in private, thus avoiding a spectacle. "You forced the guards to disobey me, Mother. In this time of crisis, you made me look weak weak, and you cast doubt on an aspect of my rule."

They stood in a large, well-appointed chamber, just the two of them. Yellow-tinted sunlight pa.s.sed through a filtered skylight over their heads, but patterns of dust on the panes cast cloudy shadows. Jessica was surprised that Alia hadn't summoned Duncan Idaho, or Stilgar, or her amazon guards to be there at her side for authority. Apparently Alia really did want to have a candid, if uncomfortable, discussion.

Jessica replied in an even voice, "Frankly, your orders concerning the Princess were poorly conceived. I only hope I acted quickly enough to prevent further damage." the Princess were poorly conceived. I only hope I acted quickly enough to prevent further damage."

"Why do you stir up trouble? After being gone for years, you sweep in here, release an important prisoner, and disrupt the legitimate workings of my government. Is that why you've come to Dune, to undermine my Regency, and take it over?" Looking young and forlorn, Alia sat down at the long, empty table. "Be careful-I have half a mind to give it to you."

Jessica detected an unexpected note of pleading in her daughter's voice. Some part of Alia, however small, wanted wanted to surrender rule to her mother, wanted to give up the pressure and responsibility. That sad agony was a part of leaders.h.i.+p-whether one ruled a city, a planet, or an empire. to surrender rule to her mother, wanted to give up the pressure and responsibility. That sad agony was a part of leaders.h.i.+p-whether one ruled a city, a planet, or an empire.

Jessica took a seat across the table from Alia and took care to soften her words. "You don't need to worry about that. I've had enough of power games from the Bene Gesserit, and I have no interest in leading an empire. I am here as your mother and the grandmother of Paul's children. I'll stay for a month or two, then return to Caladan. That's where I belong." She straightened, made her voice harder. "But in the meantime I will protect you from your decisions, when I must. Executing Irulan would have been a t.i.tanic mistake."

"I don't need you to protect me, Mother. I contemplate my decisions, I make them, and I stand by them." With a little shrug, changing her mood with surprising swiftness, Alia admitted, "Don't worry, I would have let the Princess out sooner or later. The mob demanded as many scapegoats as I could give them, and they howled for her blood in particular. Irulan's incarceration was for her own protection, as well as to make her face her own conscience, because of the mistakes she she made. Irulan has very important uses, once she is properly controlled." made. Irulan has very important uses, once she is properly controlled."

Jessica stared at her. "You hope to control Irulan?"

"She is the official source of knowledge about Muad'Dib, his own official biographer, appointed by him. If we executed her as a traitor, that would cast doubt on everything she's written. I'm not that stupid." Alia studied an imagined speck at the end of one fingernail. "Now that she has been sufficiently chastised, we need her to counter the heresies of Bronso of Ix."

"Is Paul's legacy so fragile that it can't withstand a bit of criticism? You worry too much about Bronso. Perhaps the people need to hear the truth, not myths. My son was great enough as a man. He doesn't need to be turned into a messiah." You worry too much about Bronso. Perhaps the people need to hear the truth, not myths. My son was great enough as a man. He doesn't need to be turned into a messiah."

Alia shook her head, letting Jessica see her vulnerability. Her shoulders trembled, her voice hitched. "What was he thinking, thinking, Mother? How could Paul just walk off like that and leave us?" The waves of sudden grief coming from Alia surprised her, this girl showing naked emotions that Jessica herself had not been able to express. "Chani's body not even in the deathstill, two newborn children, and he abandoned us all! How could Paul be so selfish, so ... Mother? How could Paul just walk off like that and leave us?" The waves of sudden grief coming from Alia surprised her, this girl showing naked emotions that Jessica herself had not been able to express. "Chani's body not even in the deathstill, two newborn children, and he abandoned us all! How could Paul be so selfish, so ... blind blind?"

Jessica wanted to hold her daughter and rea.s.sure her, but held back. Her own walls remained too rigid. "Grief can do terrible things to a person, chasing away all hope and logic. I doubt Paul was thinking beyond just running away from the pain."

Squaring her shoulders, Alia summoned inner strength. "Well, I won't run away. This Regency is a big problem Paul dumped in my lap, and I refuse to do the same thing he did. I I won't leave others to clean up the mess. won't leave others to clean up the mess. I I won't turn my back on humanity, on the future." won't turn my back on humanity, on the future."

"I know you won't." Jessica hesitated, lowered her gaze. "I should have consulted you first about Irulan. I acted ... impulsively."

Alia looked at her, long and hard. "We can fix this. Provided I have your cooperation, my ministers will announce that I I issued the orders to release Irulan, and you simply carried them out." issued the orders to release Irulan, and you simply carried them out."

Jessica smiled. The end result was the same, and the news would not be seen as a conflict between mother and daughter. "Thank you, Alia. I see that you're learning the art of statecraft already. That is a good decision."

Crucial events from my first life stand at the forefront of my mind: the murder of Old Duke Paulus in the bull ring, the War of a.s.sa.s.sins between Ecaz and Grumman, young Paul running off to join the Jongleurs, that terrible night in Arrakeen when the Harkonnens came ... my own death at the hands of the attacking Sardaukar in the stronghold of Dr. Kynes. The details remain vivid.

-DUNCAN IDAHO, as put to paper by Alia Atreides Dawn light touched the surface of the desert and the rock escarpments as a lone ornithopter flew high enough that its vibrations would not disturb the great worms. Duncan Idaho piloted the craft.

Like old times, Gurney thought. Gurney thought. And yet completely different And yet completely different. For sixteen years he had known that his friend was dead, but death wasn't always a permanent condition, thanks to the axlotl tanks of the Tleilaxu.

Ahead, flas.h.i.+ng in the low-angled sunlight, they could see the silvery rooftops and bastions of a ground-based scanner facility. "There's our destination," Duncan said. "A typical base. It will tell us much about our general security status before the funeral ceremony. Tens of thousands of s.h.i.+ps are arriving for the event from countless worlds. We have to be ready."

While preparations for the grand spectacle continued, a stream of mourners arrived on Dune, from diplomats hoping to curry favor with the Regency to the lowliest paupers who had sacrificed everything to pay for s.p.a.ce pa.s.sage. Gurney was not sure the planetary defenses could handle the extra influx and constant turmoil.

The evening before, he had asked Duncan about the state of the defensive facilities on the outskirts of Arrakeen. Still feeling out their new/old friends.h.i.+p, the two men sat at a worn table in the Citadel's commissary levels, drinking outrageously expensive spice beers, hardly caring about the cost. commissary levels, drinking outrageously expensive spice beers, hardly caring about the cost.

Taking a long sip, Duncan had said, "I intended to inspect those sites in due course, but other duties kept me away. Now you and I can do it together."

"The death of an emperor certainly wreaks havoc with schedules," Gurney said bitterly.

Duncan's previously sociable nature had been supplanted by Mentat mysticism programmed into him by the Tleilaxu, but he began to open up by the second spice beer, and Gurney's heart felt both heavy and happy to see glimmers of his old friend. Still wary, though, he said, as a test, "I could sing us a song. I have my baliset back in my quarters-it's the same old instrument I bought on Chusuk, when the two of us went with Thufir Hawat to search for Paul after he ran away from Ix."

Duncan responded with a thin smile. "Thufir did not go with us. It was just you and me."

Gurney chuckled. "Just making sure you really have all your memories."

"I do."

Now, as the 'thopter approached the perimeter outpost, Gurney recognized it as one of the old Harkonnen scanner stations dotted around the Plain of Arrakeen. What had once been a moderately armed facility now sported new battlements and utility structures, its multiple roofs and high walls studded with powerful ion cannons capable of destroying vessels in orbit-even Guild Heighliners, should the situation demand it.

"Because Arrakis was always a target, Paul expanded planetary defenses during the Jihad. Now that he is gone, Alia wants me to make certain we are ready to stand against opportunists."

"Shaddam is still alive and in exile on Salusa Secundus," Gurney pointed out. "Is that what you're worried about?"

"I worry about many things, and try to be prepared for all of them." He transmitted their identification signal as he circled the 'thopter in toward the outpost's landing pad, retracting the wing thrusters. "I'd never turn down your a.s.sistance, Gurney. Paul would have wanted us to work together."

Paul, Gurney thought with a wave of sadness. Though it was how the real Duncan Idaho would have remembered him, that Atreides name was a remnant of Caladan, a historical artifact. Here on Dune, Paul had become Muad'Dib, Muad'Dib, a far different person from the Duke's son. a far different person from the Duke's son.

With a roar of jets and a masterful dance of subtle stabilizers, Duncan landed the ornithopter on a fused stone ap.r.o.n inside the outpost's fortified walls. The pair disembarked and made their way to a central mustering area, where soldiers hurried through a nearby portico for the unannounced inspection.

With Gurney at his side, Duncan proceeded methodically from one station to another, chastising the soldiers for sloppy conditions. He pointed out unpolished and uncalibrated guns, dust in the tracking mechanisms, wrinkled uniforms, even the boozy odor of spice beer in the morning air.

Gurney couldn't blame him for being displeased with the level of disarray, but he also remembered the faltering morale among Atreides troops after Duke Leto had arrived on Arrakis. "With Paul gone, these men are adrift and uncertain. 'A soldier will always fight, but he fights hardest when he fights for something for something.' Isn't that one of your Swordmaster sayings?"