AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The hatch opened, and he and Chani stepped into the artificial desert. When the flinty odors and arid heat struck him, he said, "Stay here, where it's safe. I have to do this alone, or it won't be effective. If I face the worm and ride it, that may jar my memories."
Chani did not try to stop him. She understood the need as well as he did.
He climbed up the first rise, leaving footprints in the sand, then raised both hands and shouted, "Shai-Hulud! I have come for you!" In this confined space, he did not need a thumper to summon the worms.
A quality in the air changed. He sensed a stirring in the shallow dunes and saw seven serpentlike shapes coming toward him. Instead of running away, he sprinted toward them, selecting a place where he could set up his approach and mount one. His heart pounded. His throat was dry despite the stillsuit mask covering his mouth and nose.
Paul had reviewed holofilms to study Fremen sandriding techniques. Intellectually he knew what to do, just as--intellectually--he knew the factual details of his past. But a theoretical understanding was far different from actual experience. It occurred to him now, as he stood small and vulnerable on the sand, that the most effective form of learning was in the actual doing, which ensured a more thorough comprehension than he could derive from dusty archives.
I shall learn well, he thought, letting fear wash past him.
The nearest worm surged toward him with a rushing sound of scattered sand. The sheer size of the worms grew more incomprehensible as they approached, cresting the dunes.
Infusing his heart with courage, Paul forced himself to face this challenge. He held up his hook and spreader and crouched for the first leap. The noise of the monsters' approach was so loud that at first he did not hear the woman shouting. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sheeana bounding across the dunes, throwing herself in front of him. The largest worm exploded through the dust and reared up, its gigantic round mouth glittering with crystalline teeth.
Sheeana held up her hands and shouted, "Stop, Shaitan!"
The worm hesitated, and quested from side to side with its fleshy head as if confused.
"Stop! This one is not for you." She placed a firm hand on the chest of Paul's stillsuit and pushed him behind her. "He is not for you, Monarch."
As if sulking, the largest worm backed away, keeping its eyeless head turned toward them. "Get back to the hatch, foolish boy," Sheeana hissed at Paul, using just enough Voice to make his legs respond before he could think.
Duncan Idaho was also there at the hatchway, glowering. Chani looked both fearful and relieved.
Sheeana marched Paul back toward the waiting observers. "That worm would have destroyed you!"
"I'm an Atreides. Shouldn't I be able to control them like you can?"
"That isn't a theory I intend to test with you. You are too important to us. Of all the gholas, if you foolishly throw your life away, what are we to do?"
"But if you protect me too much, you'll never get what you need. Riding a worm would have brought my memories back, I'm sure of it."
"You restored Yueh," Chani pointed out to Sheeana. "Why not Usul? He's older."
"Yueh was expendable, and we weren't sure of what we were doing. We have already developed specific plans for awakening Liet-Kynes and Stilgar, and if we succeed with them, others may follow--including Thufir Hawat and you, Chani. One day, Paul Atreides will get his chance. But only after we are certain."
"What if we don't have the time?" Paul walked away from them, brushing sand and dust from his new stillsuit.
DUNCAN AWOKE TO a loud signal at the door to his quarters. His initial thought was that Sheeana had come to him again, despite their mutual reservations. He slid aside the door, ready for an argument.
Paul stood there wearing a replica of an Atreides military uniform, which evoked instant respect and loyalty from Duncan. The young man had dressed that way on purpose. Right now, the ghola Paul was almost exactly the same age as the original had been when Arrakeen had fallen to the devious Harkonnens, when the first Duncan had died defending him and his mother.
"Duncan, you say you were my close friend. You say you knew Paul Atreides. Help me now." Grasping an ornately carved ivory hilt, the young man drew a blue-white crystalline dagger from a sheath at his waist.
Duncan stared in amazement. "A crysknife? It looks . . . Is it real?"
"Chani made it from a worm tooth Sheeana found in the cargo hold."
In wonder, Duncan touched his fingers to the blade, noting how tough and sharp it was. He drew his thumb along the edge, intentionally cutting himself. He let a single drop of blood fall onto the milkywhite dagger. "According to ancient tradition, a crysknife must never be drawn unless it tastes blood."
"I know." Paul was clearly troubled as he took the weapon back and returned it to its sheath. After hesitating, he blurted out what he had come to say. "Why won't the Bene Gesserits awaken me, Duncan? You need me. Everyone on this no-ship needs me."
"Yes, young Master Paul. We do need you, but we need you alive."
"You need my abilities, as soon as possible. I was the Kwisatz Haderach, and this ghola has the same genetics. Imagine how I could help."
"The Kwisatz Haderach . . ." Duncan sighed and sat down on his bed. "The Sisterhood spent centuries creating him, but at the same time they were terrified of him. He can supposedly bridge space and time, seeing the future and the past, places even a Reverend Mother dares not look. Through brute force or guile he can forge a union between the most diverse of factions. It's a grab bag of tremendous powers."
"Whatever those powers are, Duncan, I need them. And for that I require my memories. Convince Sheeana to try me next."
"She will do what she will do, at a time of her choosing. You overestimate the influence I have among the Sisters."
"But what if the Enemy's net ensnares us completely? What if the Kwisatz Haderach is your only hope?"
"
Leto II was a Kwisatz Haderach, as well, though neither you nor your son turned out exactly the way the Bene Gesserit intended. The Sisters are very afraid of anyone who manifests unusual powers." He laughed. "After the Scattering, when the Sisterhood brought the great Duncan Idaho back, some of them even accused me of being a Kwisatz Haderach. They killed eleven of my gholas, either by Bene Gesserit heretics or Tleilaxu schemers."
"But why don't they want these powers? I thought--"
"Oh, they want the powers, Paul, but only under carefully controlled conditions." His heart went out to the young man, who looked so lost and desperate.
"I can't do anything without my past, Duncan. Help me retrieve it! You lived through part of it with me. You remember."
"Oh, I remember you very well." Duncan laced his hands behind his head and leaned back. "I remember your christening on Caladan after you were nearly killed by Imperial intrigues as an infant. I remember how Duke Leto's whole family was put at risk in the War of Assassins. I was given the great honor of taking you to safety, and you and I went to the wilds of Caladan. We stayed with your exiled grandmother Helena, and we hid among the Caladan primitives. That was when you and I became so close. Yes, I remember it very well."
"I don't," Paul said with a sigh.
Duncan seemed caught in a loop of his past lives. Caladan . . . Dune . . . the Harkonnens . . . Alia . . . Hayt. "Do you know what you're asking me, about your memories, about your life? The Tleilaxu created my first ghola as an assassination tool. They manipulated me because I was your friend. They knew you could not turn me away, even though you saw the trap."
"I wouldn't have turned you away, Duncan."
"I had the knife raised against you, ready to strike, but in the last instant, I collided with myself. The programmed assassin Hayt became the loyal Duncan Idaho. You can't imagine the agony!" He pointed a stern finger at the young man. "Restoring your past will require a similar crisis."
Paul squared his jaw. "I'm prepared for it. I'm not afraid of pain."
