fh.godemperorofdune-第61部分

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　〃Why　isn't　a　signal　device　necessary？〃
　〃It　would　teach　you　nothing。〃
　He　moved　out　around　her　along　the　track　indicated　by　the　Pointers。　〃e。　Let　us　use　this　night　to　our　profit。〃
　She　came　hurrying　up　to　walk　beside　his　cowled　face。　〃What　happens　if　I　don't　learn　your　damned　lesson？〃
　〃You'll　probably　die；〃　he　said。
　That　silenced　her　for　a　time。　She　trudged　along　beside　him　with　only　an　occasional　sideward　glance；　ignoring　the　worm…body；　concentrating　on　the　visible　remnants　of　his　humanity。　After　a　time；　she　said：　〃The　Fish　Speakers　told　me　that　you　ordered　the　mating　from　which　I　was　born。〃
　〃That's　true。〃
　〃They　say　you　keep　records　and　that　you　order　these　Atreides　matings　for　your　own　purposes。〃
　〃That　also　is　true。〃
　〃Then　the　Oral　History　is　correct。〃
　〃I　thought　you　believed　the　Oral　History　without　question？〃
　She　was　on　a　single　track；　though：　〃What　if　one　of　us　objects　when　you　order　a　mating？〃
　〃I　allow　a　wide　latitude　just　as　long　as　there　are　the　children　I　have　ordered。〃
　〃Ordered？〃　She　was　outraged。
　〃That's　what　I　do。〃
　〃You　can't　creep　into　every　bedroom　or　follow　every　one　of　us　every　minute　of　our　lives！　How　do　you　know　your　orders　are　obeyed？〃
　〃I　know。〃
　〃Then　you　know　I'm　not　going　to　obey　you！〃
　〃Are　you　thirsty；　Siona？〃
　She　was　startled。　〃What？〃
　〃Thirsty　people　speak　of　water；　not　of　sex。〃
　Still；　she　did　not　seal　her　mouth　flap；　and　he　thought：　Atreides　passions　always　did　run　strong；　even　at　the　expense　of　reason。
　Within　two　hours；　they　came　down　out　of　the　dunes　onto　a　wind…scoured　flat　of　pebbles。　Leto　moved　onto　it；　Siona　close　to　his　side。　She　looked　frequently　at　the　Pointers。　Both　moons　were　low　on　the　horizon　now　and　their　light　cast　long　shadows　behind　every　boulder。
　In　some　ways；　Leto　found　such　places　more　fortable　to　traverse　than　the　sand。　Solid　rock　was　a　better　heat　conductor　than　sand。　He　could　flatten　himself　against　the　rock　and　ease　the　working　of　his　chemical　factories。　Pebbles　and　even　sizable　rocks　did　not　impede　him。
　Siona　had　more　trouble　here；　though；　and　almost　turned　an　ankle　several　times。
　The　flatland　could　be　a　very　trying　place　for　humans　unaccustomed　to　it；　he　thought。　If　they　stayed　close　to　the　ground；　they　saw　only　the　great　emptiness；　an　eerie　place　especially　in　moonlight…dunes　at　a　distance；　a　distance　which　seemed　not　to　change　as　the　traveler　moved…nothing　anywhere　except　the　seemingly　eternal　wind；　a　few　rocks　and；　when　they　looked　upward；　stars　without　mercy。　This　was　the　desert　of　the　desert。
　〃Here's　where　Fremen　music　acquired　its　eternal　loneliness；〃　he　said；　〃not　up　on　the　dunes。　Here's　where　you　really　learn　to　think　that　heaven　must　be　the　sound　of　running　water　and　relief…any　relief…from　that　endless　wind。〃
　Even　this　did　not　remind　her　of　that　face　flap。　Leto　began　to　despair。
　Morning　found　them　far　out　on　the　flat。
　Leto　stopped　beside　three　large　boulders；　all　piled　against　each　other；　one　of　them　taller　even　than　his　back。　Siona　leaned　against　him　for　a　moment；　a　gesture　which　restored　Leto's　hopes　somewhat。　She　pushed　herself　away　presently　and　clambered　up　onto　the　highest　boulder。　He　watched　her　turn　up　there；　examining　the　landscape。
　Without　even　looking　at　it　Leto　knew　what　she　saw：　blowing　sand　like　fog　on　the　horizon　obscured　the　rising　sun。　For　the　rest；　there　was　only　the　flat　and　the　wind。
　The　rock　was　cold　beneath　him　with　the　chill　of　a　desert　morning。　The　cold　made　the　air　much　drier　and　he　found　it　more　pleasant。　Without　Siona；　he　would　have　moved　on；　but　she　was　visibly　exhausted。　She　leaned　against　him　once　more　when　she　came　down　from　the　rock　and　it　was　almost　a　minute　before　he　realized　that　she　was　listening。
　〃What　do　you　hear？〃　he　asked。
　She　spoke　sleepily。　〃You　rumble　inside。〃
　〃The　fire　never　goes　pletely　out。〃
　This　interested　her。　She　pushed　herself　away　from　his　side　and　came　around　to　look　into　his　face。　〃Fire？〃
　〃Every　living　thing　has　a　fire　within　it；　some　slow；　some　very　fast。　Mine　is　hotter　than　most。〃
　She　hugged　herself　against　the　chill。　〃Then　you're　not　cold　here？〃
　〃No；　but　I　can　see　that　you　are。〃　He　pulled　his　face　partly　into　its　cowl　and　created　a　depression　at　the　bottom　arc　of　his　first　segment。　〃It's　almost　like　a　hammock；〃　he　said；　looking　down。　〃If　you　curl　up　there；　you　will　be　warm。〃
　Without　hesitating；　she　accepted　his　invitation。
　Even　though　he　had　prepared　her　for　it；　he　found　the　trusting　response　touching。　He　had　to　fight　against　a　feeling　of　pity　far　stronger　than　any　he　had　experienced　before　knowing　Hwi。　There　could　be　no　room　for　pity　out　here；　though；　he　told　himself。　Siona　was　betraying　clear　signs　that　she　would　more　than　likely　die　here。　He　had　to　prepare　himself　for　disappointment。
　Siona　shielded　her　face　with　an　arm；　closed　her　eyes　and　went　to　sleep。
　Nobody　has　ever　had　as　many　yesterdays　as　I　have　had；　he　reminded　himself。
　From　the　popular　human　viewpoint；　he　knew　that　the　things　he　did　here　could　only　appear　cruel　and　callous。　He　was　forced　now　to　strengthen　himself　by　retreating　into　his　memories；　deliberately　selecting　mistakes　of　our　mon　past。　First…hand　access　to　human　mistakes　was　his　greatest　strength　now。　Knowledge　of　mistakes　taught　him　long…term　corrections。　He　had　to　be　constantly　aware　of　consequences。　If　consequences　were　lost　or　concealed；　lessons　were　lost。
　But　the　closer　he　came　to　being　a　sandworm；　the　harder　he　found　it　to　make　decisions　which　others　would　call　inhuman。　Once；　he　had　done　it　with　ease。　As　his　humanity　slipped　away；　though；　he　found　himself　filled　with　more　and　more　human　concerns。
　
　In　the　cradle　of　our　past；　I　lay　upon　my　back　in　a　cave　so　shallow　I　could　penetrate　it　only　by　squirming；　not　by　crawling。　There；　by　the　dancing　light　of　a　resin　torch；　I　drew　upon　walls　and　ceiling　the　creatures　of　the　hunt　and　the　souls　of　my　people。　How　illuminating　it　is　to　peer　backward　through　a　perfect　circle　at　that　ancient　struggle　for　the　visible　moment　of　the　soul。　All　time　vibrates　to　that　call：　〃Here　I　am！〃　With　a　mind　informed　by　artist…giants　who　came　afterward；　I　peer　at　handprints　and　flowing　muscles　drawn　upon　the　rock　with　charcoal　and　vegetable　dyes。　How　much　more　we　are　than　mere　mechanical　events！　And　my　anti…civil　self　demands：　〃Why　is　it　that　they　do　not　want　to　leave　the　cave？〃
　…The　Stolen　Journals
　THE　INVITATION　to　attend　Moneo　in　his　workroom　came　to　Idaho　late　in　the　afternoon。　All　day；　Idaho　had　sat　upon　the　sling　couch　of　his　quarters；　thinking。　Every　thought　radiated　outward　from　the　ease　with　which　Moneo　had　spilled　him　onto　the　corridor　floor　that　morning。
　〃You're　just　an　older　model。〃
　With　every　thought；　Idaho　felt　himself　diminished。　He　sensed　the　will　to　live　as　it　faded；　leaving　ashes　where　his　anger　had　burned　itself　out。
　I　am　the　conveyance　of　some　useful　sperm　and　nothing　more；
　he　thought。
　It　was　a　thought　which　invited　either　death　or　hedonism。　He　felt　himself　impaled　on　a　thorn　of　chance　with　irritating　forces　pecking　at　him　from　all　sides。
　The　young　messenger　in　her　neat　blue　uniform　was　merely　another　irritation。　She　entered　at　his　low…voiced　response　to　her　knock　and　she　stopped　under　the　arched　portal　from　his　anteroom；　hesitating　until　she　had　assessed　his　mood。
　How　quickly　the　word　travels；　he　thought。
　He　saw　her　there；　framed　in　the　portal；　a　projection　of　Fish　Speaker　essence…more　voluptuous　than　some；　but　no　more　blatantly　sexual。　The　blue　uniform　did　not　conceal　graceful　hips；　firm　breasts。　He　looked　up　at　her　puckish　face　under　a　brush　of　blonde　hair…acolyte　cut。
　〃Moneo　sends　me　to　inquire　after　you；〃　she　said。　〃He　asks　that　you　attend　him　in　his　workroom。〃
　Idaho　had　seen　that　workroom　several　times；　but　still　remembered　it　best　from　his　first　view　of　it。　He　had　known　on　entering　the　room　that　it　was　where　Moneo　spent　most　of　his　time。　There　was　a　table　of　dark　brown　wood　streaked　by　fine　golden　graining；　a　table　about　two　meters　by　one　meter　and　set　low　on　stubby　legs　in　the　midst　of　gray　cushions。　The　table　had　struck　Idaho　as　something　rare　and　expensive；　chosen　for　a　single　accent。　It　and　the　cushions…which　were　the　same　gray　as　floor；　walls　and　ceiling…were　the　only　furnishings。
　Considering　the　power　of　its　occupant；　the　room　was　small；　no　more　than　five　meters　by　four；　but　with　a　high　ceiling。　Light　came　from　two　slender　glazed　windows　opposite　each　other　on　the　narrower　walls。　The　windows　looked　out　from　a　considerable　height；　one　onto　the　northwest　fringes　of　the　Sareer　and　the　bordering　green　of　the　Forbidden　Forest；　the　other　providing　a　southwest　view　over　rolling　dunes。
　Contrast。
　The　table　had　put　an　interesting　accent　on　this　initial　thought。　The　surface　had　appeared　as　an　arrangement　demonstrating　the　idea　of　clutter。　Thin　sheets　of　crystal　paper　lay　scattered　across　the　surface；　leaving　only　glimpses　of　the　wood　grain　underneath。　Fine　printing　covered　some　of　the　paper。　Idaho　recognized　words　in　Galach　and　four　other　languages；　including　the　rare　transite　tongue　of　Perth。　Several　sheets　of　the　paper　revealed　plan　drawings　and　some　were　scrawled　with　black　strokes　of　brush…script　in　the　bold　style　of　the　Bene　Gesserit。　Most　interesting　of　all　had　been　four　rolled　white　tubes　about　a　meter　long…tri…D　printouts　from　an　illegal　puter。　He　had　suspected　the　terminal　lay　concealed　behind　a　panel　in　one　of　the　walls。
　The　young　messenger　from　Moneo　cleared　her　throat　to　awaken　Idaho　from　his　reverie。　〃What　response　shall　I　return　to　Moneo？〃　she　asked。
　Idaho　focused　on　her　face。　〃Would　you　like　me　to　impregnate　you？〃　he　asked。
　〃mander！〃　She　was　obviously　shocked　not　so　much　by　his　suggestion　as　by　its　non　sequitur　intrusion。
　〃Ahhh；　yes；〃　Idaho　said。　〃Moneo。　What　shall　we　tell　Moneo？〃
　〃He　awaits　your　reply；　mander。〃
　〃Is　there　really　any　point　in　my　responding？〃　Idaho　asked。
　〃Moneo　told　me　to　inform　you　that　he　wishes　to　confer　with　both　you　and　the　Lady　Hwi　together。〃
　Idaho　sensed　a　vague　arousal　of　interest。　〃Hwi　is　with　him？〃
　〃She　has　been　summoned；　mander。〃　The　messenger　cleared　her　throat　once　more。　〃Would　the　mander　wish　me　to　visit　him　here　later　tonight？〃
　〃No。　Thank　you；　anyway。　I've　changed　my　mind。〃
　He　thought　she　concealed　her　disapp