God Emporer of Dune by Frank Herbert

Hwi removed her hand from Idaho’s. “We know.”

Idaho spoke with resigned bitterness: “We know his power.” “But you do not understand him,” Moneo said. “I want nothing more than that,” Hwi said. She put a hand on Idaho’s arm to silence him. “No, Duncan. Our private desires have no place here.” “Maybe you should pray to him,” Idaho said. She whirled and looked at him, staring and staring until Idaho lowered his gaze. When she spoke, her voice carried a lilting quality that Idaho had never heard there before. “My Uncle Malky always said the Lord Leto never responded to prayer. He said the Lord Leto looked on prayer as attempted coercion, a form of violence against the chosen god, telling the immortal what to do: Give me a miracle, God, or I won’t believe in you!” “Prayer as hubris,” Moneo said. “Intercession on demand.” “How can he be a god?” Idaho demanded. “By his own admission, he’s not immortal.” “I will quote the Lord Leto on that,” Moneo said. “`I am all of God that need be seen. I am the word become a miracle. I am all of my ancestors. Is that not miracle enough? What more could you possibly want? Ask yourself: Where is there a greater miracle?”‘ “Empty words,” Idaho sneered. “I sneered at him, too,” Moneo said. “I threw his own words from the Oral History back at him: `Give to the greater glory of God!”‘ Hwi gasped. “He laughed at me,” Moneo said. “He laughed and asked how I could give what already belonged to God?” “You were angry?” Hwi asked. “Oh, yes. He saw this and said he would tell me how to give to that glory. He said: `You may observe that you are every bit as great a miracle as I am. “‘ Moneo turned and looked out the window on his left. “I’m afraid my anger made me deaf and I was totally unprepared.” “Ohhh, he is clever,” Idaho said. “Clever?” Moneo looked at him. “I don’t think so, not in the way you mean. I think the Lord Leto may be no more clever than I am in that way.” “Unprepared for what?” Hwi asked. “The risk,” Moneo said. “But you risked much in your anger,” she said. “Not as much as he. I see in your eyes, Hwi, that you

understand this. Does his body revolt you?” “No more,” she said. Idaho ground his teeth in frustration. “He disgusts me!” “Love, you must not say such things,” Hwi said. “And you must not call him love,” Moneo said. “You’d rather she learned to love someone more gross and evil than any Baron Harkonnen ever dreamed of being,” Idaho said. Moneo worked his lips in and out, then: “The Lord Leto has told me about that evil old man of your time, Duncan. I don’t think you understood your enemy.” “He was a fat, monstrous.. .” “He was a seeker after sensations,” Moneo said. “The fat was a side-effect, then perhaps something to experience for itself because it offended people and he enjoyed offending.” “The Baron only consumed a few planets,” Idaho said. “Leto consumes the universe.” “Love, please!” Hwi protested. “Let him rant,” Moneo said. “When I was young and ignorant, even as my Siona and this poor fool, I said similar things.” ` Is that why you let your daughter go out to die?” Idaho demanded. “Love, that’s cruel,” Hwi said. “Duncan, it has always been one of your flaws to seek hysteria,” Moneo said. “I warn you that ignorance thrives on hysteria. Your genes provide vigor and you may inspire some among the Fish Speakers, but you are a poor leader.” “Don’t try to anger me,” Idaho said. “I know better than to attack you, but don’t push me too far.” Hwi tried to take Idaho’s hand, but he pulled away. “I know my place,” Idaho said. “I’m a useful follower. I can carry the Atreides banner. The green and black is on my back!” “The undeserving maintain power by promoting hysteria,” Moneo said. “The Atreides art is the art of ruling without hysteria, the art of being responsible for the uses of power.” Idaho pushed back and heaved himself to his feet. “When has your damned God Emperor ever been responsible for anything?” Moneo looked down at his cluttered table and spoke without looking up. “He is responsible for what he has done to himself.” Moneo looked up then, his eyes frosty. “You haven’t the guts,

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