"And you have heard a contrary rumor."
"What happened?"
"He died because he was too close to me. I did not remove him to a safe place in time."
"A place like Goygoa."
"I would have preferred him to live out his days there in peace, but you well know, Duncan, that you are not a seeker after peace."
Idaho swallowed, encountering an odd lump in his throat. "I would still like the particulars of his death. He has a family..."
"You will get the particulars and do not fear for his family. They are my wards. I will keep them safely at a distance. You know how violence seeks me out. That is one of my functions. It is unfortunate that those I admire and love must suffer because of this."
Idaho pursed his lips, not satisfied with what he heard.
"Set your mind at ease, Duncan," Leto said. "Your predecessor died because he was too close to me."
The Fish Speaker escort stirred restively. Idaho glanced at them, then looked to the right up the tunnel.
"Yes, it is time," Leto said. "We must not keep the women waiting. March close ahead of me, Duncan, and I will answer your questions about Siaynoq."
Obedient because he could think of no suitable alternative, Idaho turned on his heel and led off the procession. He heard the cart creak into motion behind him, the faint footsteps of the escort following.
The cart fell silent with an abruptness which jerked Idaho's attention around. The reason was immediately apparent.
"You're on the suspensors," he said, returning his attention to the front.
"I have retracted the wheels because the women will press close around me," Leto said. "We can't crush their feet."
"What is Siaynoq? What is it really?" Idaho asked.
"I have told you. It is the Great Sharing."
"Do I smell spice?"
"Your nostrils are sensitive. There is a small amount of melange in the wafers."
Idaho shook his head.
Trying to understand this event, Idaho had asked Leto directly at the first opportunity after their arrival in Onn, "What is the Feast of Siaynoq'?"
"We share a wafer, no more. Even I partake."
"Is it like the Orange Catholic ritual?"
"Oh, no! It is not my flesh. It is the sharing. They are reminded that they are only female, as you are only male, but I am all. They-share with the all,"
Idaho had not liked the tone of this. "Only male`?"
"Do you know who they lampoon at the Feast, Duncan'?"
"Who?"
"Men who have offended them. Listen to them when they talk softly among themselves."
Idaho had taken this as a warning: Don't offend the Fish Speakers. You incur their wrath at your mortal peril!
Now, as he marched ahead of Leto in the tunnel, Idaho felt that he had heard the words correctly but learned nothing from them. He spoke over his shoulder.
" I don't understand the Sharing."
"We are together in the ritual. You will see it. You will feel it. My Fish Speakers are the repository of a special knowledge, an unbroken line which only they share.;Vow, you will partake of it and they will love you for it. Listen to them carefully. They are open to ideas of affinity. Their terms of endearment for each other have no reservations."
More words. Idaho thought. More mystery.
He could discern a gradual widening in the tunnel: the ceiling sloped higher. There were more glowglobes, tuned now into the deep orange. He could see the high arch of an opening about three hundred meters away, rich red light there in which he could make out glistening faces which swayed gently left and right. Their bodies below the faces presented a dark wall of clothing. The perspiration of excitement was thick here.
As he neared the waiting women, Idaho saw a passage through them and a ramp slanting up to a low ledge on his right. A great arched ceiling curved away above the women, a gigantic space illuminated by glowglobes tuned high into the red.
"Go up the ramp on your right," Leto said. "Stop just beyond the center of the ledge and turn to face the women."
Idaho lifted his right hand in acknowledgment. He was emerging into the open space now and the dimensions of this enclosed place awed him. He set his trained eyes the task of estimating the dimensions as he mounted to the ledge and guessed the hall to be at least eleven hundred meters on a side-a square with rounded corners. It was packed with women, and Idaho reminded himself that these were only the chosen representatives of the far scattered Fish Speaker regiments-three women from each planet. They stood now, their bodies pressed so closely together that Idaho doubted one of them could fall. They had left only a space about fifty meters wide along the ledge where Idaho now stopped and surveyed the scene. The faces looked up at him-faces, faces.
Leto stopped his cart just behind Idaho and lifted one of his silver-skinned arms.
Immediately, a roaring cry of "Siaynoq! Siaynoq!" filled the great hall.
Idaho was deafened by it. Surely that sound must be heard throughout the City, he thought. Unless we are too far underground.
"My brides," Leto said. " I welcome you to Siaynoq."
Idaho glanced up at Leto, saw the dark eyes glistening, the radiant expression. Leto had said: "This cursed holiness!" But he basked in it.
Has Moneo ever seen this gathering? Idaho wondered. It was an odd thought, but Idaho knew its origin. There had to be some other mortal human with whom this could be discussed. The escort had said Moneo was dispatched on "affairs of state" whose details they did not know. Hearing this, Idaho had felt himself sense another element in Leto's government. The lines of power extended directly from Leto out into the populace, but the lines did not often cross. That required many things, including trusted servants who would accept responsibility for carrying out orders without question.
"Few see the God Emperor do hurtful things," Siona had said. "is that like the Atreides you knew?"
Idaho looked out over the massed Fish Speakers as these thoughts flitted through his mind. The adulation in their eyes! The awe! How had Leto done this'? Why'?
"My beloveds," Leto said. His voice boomed out over the upturned faces. carried to the farthest corners by subtle Ixian amplifiers concealed in the Royal Cart.
The steaming images of the women's faces filled Idaho with memory of Leto's warning. Incur their wrath at Your mortal peril!
It was easy to believe that warning in this place. One word from Leto and these women would tear an offender to pieces.
They would not question. They would act. Idaho began to feel a new appreciation of these women as an army. Personal peril would not stop them. They served God!
The Royal Cart creaked slightly as Leto arched his front segments upward, lifting his head.
"You are the keepers of the faith!" Leto said.
They replied as one voice: "Lord, we obey!"
"In me you live without end!" Leto said.
"We are the Infinite!" they shouted.
"I love you as I love no others!" Leto said.
"Love!" they screamed.
Idaho shuddered.
" I give you my beloved Duncan!" Leto said.
"Love!" they screamed.
Idaho felt his whole body trembling. He felt that he might collapse from the weight of this adulation. He wanted to run away and he wanted to stay and accept this. There was power in this room. Power!
In a lower voice, Leto said: "Change the Guard."
The women bowed their heads, a single movement, unhesitating. From off to Idaho's right a line of women in white gowns appeared. They marched into the open space below the ledge and Idaho noted that some of them carried babies and small children, none more than a year or two old.
From the outline explanation provided him earlier, Idaho recognized these women as the ones leaving the immediate service of the Fish Speakers. Some would become priestesses and some would spend full time as mothers... but none would truly leave Leto's service.
As he looked down on the children, Idaho thought how the buried memory of this experience must be impressed on any of the male children. They would carry the mystery of it throughout their lives, a memory lost to consciousness but always present, shading responses from this moment onward.
The last of the newcomers came to a stop below Leto and looked up at him. The other women in the hall now lifted their faces and focused on Leto.
Idaho glanced left and right. The white-clad women filled the space below the ledge for at least five hundred meters in both directions. Some of them lifted their children toward Leto. The awe and submission was something absolute. If Leto or- ,red it, Idaho sensed, these women would smash their babies death against the ledge. They would do anything!
Leto lowered his front segments onto the cart, a gentle rippling motion. He peered down benignly and his voice came as a soft caress. "I give you the reward which your faith and service have earned. Ask and it shall be given."
The entire hall reverberated to the response: "It shall be given!"
"What is mine is thine," Leto said.
"What is mine is thine," the women shouted.
"Share with me now," Leto said, "the silent prayer for my intercession in all things-that humankind may never end."
As one, every head in the hall bowed. The white-clad women cradled their children close, looking down at them. Idaho felt the silent unity, a force which sought to enter him and take him over. He opened his mouth wide and breathed deeply, fighting against something which he sensed as a physical invasion. His mind searched frantically for something to which he could cling, something to shield him.
These women were an army whose force and union Idaho had not suspected. He knew he did not understand this force. He could only observe it, recognize that it existed.
This was what Leto had created.
Leto's words from a meeting at the Citadel came back to Idaho: "Loyalty in a male army fastens onto the army itself rather than onto the civilization which fosters the army. Loyalty in a female army fastens onto the leader."
Idaho stared out across the visible evidence of Leto's creation, seeing the penetrating accuracy of those words, fearing that accuracy.
He offers me a share in this, Idaho thought.
His own response to Leto's words struck Idaho now as puerile.
"I don't see the reason," Idaho had said.
"Most people are not creatures of reason."
"No army, male or female, guarantees peace! Your Empire isn't peaceful! You only...
"My Fish Speakers have provided you with our histories?"
"Yes, but I've also walked about in your city and I've watched your people. Your people are aggressive!"
"You see, Duncan? Peace encourages aggression."
"And you say that your Golden Path..."
"Is not precisely peace. It is tranquility, a fertile ground for the growth of rigid classes and many other forms of aggression."
"You talk riddles!"
" I talk accumulated observations which tell me that the peaceful posture is the posture of the defeated. It is the posture of the victim. Victims invite aggression."
"Your damned enforced tranquility! What good does it do?"
"If there is no enemy, one must be invented. The military force which is denied an external target always turns against its own people."
"What's your game?"
"I modify the human desire for war."
"People don't want war!"
"They want chaos. War is the most readily available form of chaos."
" don't believe any of this! You're playing some dangerous game of your own."
"Very dangerous. I address ancient wellsprings of human behavior to redirect them. The danger is that I could suppress the forces of human survival. But I assure you that my Golden Path endures."
"You haven't suppressed antagonism!"
"I dissipate energies in one place and point them toward another place. What you cannot control, you harness."
"What's to keep your female army from taking over?"
"I am their leader."
As he looked out over the massed women in the great hall, Idaho could not deny the focus of leadership. He saw also that part of this adulation was directed at his own person. The temptation in this held him fixated-anything he wanted from them... anything! The latent power in this great hall was explosive. This realization forced him into a deeper questioning of Leto's earlier words.
Leto had said something about exploding violence. Even as he watched the women at their silent prayer, Idaho recalled what Leto had said: "Men are susceptible to class fixations. They create layered societies. The layered society is an ultimate invitation to violence. It does not fall apart. It explodes."
"Women never do this?"
"Not unless they are almost completely male dominated or locked into a male-role model."
"The sexes can't be that different!"
"But they are. Women make common cause based on their sex, a cause which transcends class and caste. That is why I let my women hold the reins."
Idaho was forced to admit that these praying women held the reins.
What part of that power would he pass into my hands?
The temptation was monstrous! Idaho found himself trembling with it. With chilling abruptness, he realized that this must be Leto's intention-to tempt me!
On the floor of the great hall, the women finished their prayer and lifted their gaze to Leto. Idaho felt that he had never before seen such rapture in human faces-not in the ecstasy of sex, not in glorious victory-at-arms-nowhere had he seen anything to approach this intense adulation.
"Duncan Idaho stands beside me today," Leto said. "Duncan is here to declare his loyalty that all may hear it. Duncan?"
Idaho felt a physical chill shoot through his intestines. Leto gave him a simple choice: Declare your loyalty to the God Emperor or die!
If I sneer, vacillate or object in any way, the women will kill me with their own hands.
A deep anger suffused Idaho. He swallowed, cleared his throat, then: "Let no one question my loyalty. I am loyal to the Atreides."
He heard his own voice booming out over the room, amplified by Leto's Ixian device.
The effect startled Idaho.
"We share!" the women screamed. "We share! We share!"
"We share," Leto said.
Young Fish Speaker trainees, identifiable by their short green robes, swarmed into the hall from all sides, little knots of movement which eddied throughout the pattern of the adoring faces. Each trainee carried a tray piled high with tiny brown wafers. As the trays moved through the throng, hands reached out in waves of graceful grasping, an undulant dancing of the arms. Each hand took a wafer and held it aloft. When a tray bearer came to the ledge and lifted her burden toward Idaho, Leto said:
"Take two and pass one into my hand."
Idaho knelt and took two wafers. The things felt crisp and fragile. He stood and passed one gently to Leto.
In a stentorian voice, Leto asked: "Has the new Guard been chosen?"
"Yes, Lord!" the women shouted.
"Do you keep my faith?"
"Yes, Lord!"
"Do you walk the Golden Path'"
"Yes. Lord"
The vibration of the women's ` (;bouts sent shock waves through Idaho, stunning him.
"Do we share?" Leto asked.
"Yes, Lord!"
As the women responded, Leto popped his wafer into his mouth. Each mother below the ledge took a bite from her wafer and offered the rest to her child. The massed Fish Speakers behind the white-clad women lowered their arms and ate their wafers.
"Duncan, eat your wafer," Leo said.
Idaho slipped the thing into his mouth. His ghola body had not been conditioned to the spice but memory spoke to his senses. The wafer tasted faintly bitter with a soft undertone of melange. The taste swept old memories through Idaho's awareness-meals in sietch, banquets at the Atreides Residency... the way spice flavors permeated everything in the old days.
As he swallowed the wafer, Idaho grew conscious of the stillness in the hall, a breath-held quiet into which came a loud click from Leto's cart. Idaho turned and sought the source of the sound. Leto had opened a compartment in the bed of his cart and was removing a crystal box from it. The box glowed with a blue-gray inner light. Leto placed the box on the bed of his cart, opened the glowing lid and removed a crysknife. Idaho recognized the blade immediately-the hawk engraved on the handle's butt, the green jewels at the hilt.
The crysknife of Paul Muad'Dib!
Idaho found himself deeply moved at the sight of this blade. He stared at it as though the image in his eyes might reproduce the original owner.
Leto lifted the blade and held it high, revealing the elegant curve and milky iridescence.
"The talisman of our lives," Leto said.
The women remained silent, raptly attentive.
"The knife of Muad'Dib," Leto said. "The tooth of Shai-Hulud. Will Shai-Hulud come again?"
The response was a subdued murmur made deeply powerful by contrast with the previous shouting.
"Yes, Lord."
Idaho returned his attention to the enraptured faces of the Fish Speakers.
"Who is Shai-Hulud?" Leto asked.
Again, that deep murmur: "You, Lord."
Idaho nodded to himself. Here was undeniable evidence that Leto had tapped into a monstrous reservoir of power never before unleashed in quite this way. Leto had said it but the words were a meaningless noise compared to the thing seen and felt in this great hall. Leto's words came back to Idaho, though, as if they had waited for this moment to cloak themselves in their true meaning. Idaho recalled that they had been in the crypt, that dank and shadowy place which Leto seemed to find so attractive but which Idaho found so repellent-the dust of centuries there and the odors of ancient decay.
"I have been forming this human society, shaping it for more than three thousand years, opening a door out of adolescence for the entire species," Leto had said.
"Nothing you say explains a female army!" Idaho had protested.
"Rape is foreign to women, Duncan. You ask for a sexrooted behavioral difference? There's one."
"Stop changing the subject!"
"I do not change it. Rape was always the pay-off in male military conquest. Males did not have to abandon any of their adolescent fantasies while engaging in rape."
Idaho recalled the glowering anger which had come over him at this thrust.
"My houris tame the males," Leto said. "It is domestication, a thing that females know from eons of necessity."
Idaho stared wordlessly at Leto's cowled face.
"To tame," Leto said. "To fit into some orderly survival pattern. Women learned it at the hands of men; now men learn it at the hands of women."
"But you said..."
"My houris often submit to a form of rape at first only to convert this into a deep and binding mutual dependence."
"Dammit! You're..."
"Binding, Duncan! Binding."
"I don't feel bound to..."
"Education takes time. You are the ancient norm against which the new can be measured."
Leto's words momentarily flushed Idaho of all emotion except a deep sense of loss.
"My houris teach maturation," Leto said. "They know that they must supervise the maturation of males. Through this they find their own maturation. Eventually, houris merge into wives and mothers and we wean the violent drives away from their adolescent fixations."
"I'll have to see it to believe it!"
"You will see it at the Great Sharing."
As he stood beside Leto in the hall of Siaynoq, Idaho admitted to himself that he had seen something of enormous power, something which might create the kind of human universe Leto's words projected.
Leto was restoring the crysknife to its box, returning the box to its compartment in the bed of the Royal Cart. The women watched in silence, even the small children quiet everyone subdued by the force which could be felt in this great hall.
Idaho looked down at the children, knowing from Leto's explanation that these children would be rewarded with positions of power-male or female, each in a puissant niche. The male children would be female-dominated throughout their lives, making (in Leto's words) "an easy transition from adolescence into breeding males."
Fish Speakers and their progeny lived lives "possessed of a certain excitement not available to most others."
What will happen to Irti's children? Idaho wondered. Did my predecessor stand here and watch his white-clad wife share in Leto's ritual?
What does Leto offer me here?
With that female army, an ambitious commander could take over Leto's Empire. Or could he? No... not while Leto lived. Leto said the women were not militarily aggressive "by nature."
He said: "I do not foster that in them. They know a cyclical pattern with a Royal Festival every ten years, a changing of the Guard, a blessing for the new generation, a silent thought for fallen sisters and loved ones gone forever. Siaynoq after Siaynoq marches onward in predictable measure. The change itself becomes non-change."
Idaho lifted his gaze from the women in white and their children. He looked across the mass of silent faces, telling himself that this was only a small core of that enormous female force which spread its feminine web across the Empire. He could believe Leto's words:
"The power does not weaken. It grows stronger every decade."
To what end? Idaho asked himself.
He glanced at Leto who was lifting his hands in benediction over the hall of his houris.
"We will move among you now," Leto said.
The women below the ledge opened a path, pressing backward. The path opened deeper into the throng like a fissure spreading through the earth after some tremendous natural upheaval.
"Duncan, you will precede me," Leto said.
Idaho swallowed in a dry throat. He put a palm on the lip of the ledge and dropped down into the open space, moving out into the fissure because he knew only that could end this trial.
A quick glance backward showed him Leto's cart drifting majestically down on its suspensors.
Idaho turned and quickened his pace.
The women narrowed the path through their ranks. It was done in an odd stillness, with fixity of attention-first on Idaho and then on that gross pre-worm body riding behind Idaho on the Ixian cart.
As Idaho marched stoically ahead, women reached from all sides to touch him, to touch Leto, or merely to touch the Royal Cart. Idaho felt the restrained passion in their touch and knew the deepest fear in his experience. -= The problem of leadership is inevitably: Who will play God?
- Muad'Dib.
From the Oral History Hwi NOREE followed a young Fish Speaker guide down a wide ramp which spiraled into the depths of Onn. The summons from the Lord Leto had come in late evening of the Festival's third day, interrupting a development which had taxed her ability to maintain emotional balance.
Her first assistant, Othwi Yake, was not a pleasant mana sandy-haired creature with a long, narrow face and eyes which never looked long at anything and never ever looked directly into the eyes of someone he addressed. Yake had presented her with a single sheet of memerase paper containing what he described as "a summation of recently reported violence in the Festival City."
Standing close to the desk at which she was seated, he had stared down somewhere to her left and said: "Fish Speakers are slaughtering Face Dancers throughout the City." He did not appear particularly moved by this.
"Why?" she demanded.
"It is said that the Bene Tleilax made an attempt on the God Emperor's life."
A thrill of fear shot through her. She sat back and glanced around the ambassadorial office-around room with a single half-circle desk which concealed the controls for many Ixian devices beneath its highly polished surface. The room was a darkly important-appearing place with brown wood panels covering instruments which shielded it from spying. There were no windows.
Trying not to show her upset, Hwi looked up at Yake. "And the Lord Leto is..."
"The attempt on his life appears to have been totally without effect. But it might explain that flogging."
"Then you think there was such an attempt?"
"Yes."
The Fish Speaker from the Lord Leto entered at that moment, hard on the announcement of her presence in the outer office. She was followed by a Bene Gesserit crone, a person she introduced as "The Reverend Mother Anteac." Anteac stared intently at Yake while the Fish Speaker, a young woman with smooth, almost childlike features, delivered her message: