God Emporer of Dune by Frank Herbert

“For such wisdom I grant you a boon, Moneo. What is your

wish’,”Sudden relief only opened a path for other fears to emerge “Could I bring Siona back to the Citadel?”

“That will cause me to test her sooner.”

“She must be separated from her companions, Lord.”

“Very well.”

“My Lord is gracious.”

” I am selfish.”

The God Emperor turned away from Moneo then and fell silent.

Looking along the segmented body, Moneo observed that the Worm signs had subsided somewhat. This had turned out well after all. He thought then of the Fremen with their petition and fear returned.

That was a mistake. They will only arouse Him again. Why did l say they could present their petition?

The Fremen would be waiting up ahead, marshaled on this side of the river with their foolish papers waving in their hands.

Moneo marched in silence, his apprehension increasing with each step.

=== Over here sand blows; over there sand blows.

Over there a rich man waits; over here I wait.

-The Voice of Shai-Hulud, From the Oral History

SISTER CHENOEH’S account, found among her papers after her death:

I obey both my tenets as a Bene Gesserit and the commands of the God Emperor by withholding these words from my report while secreting them that they may be found when I am gone. For the Lord Leto said to me: “You will return to your Superiors with my message, but these words keep secret for now. I will visit my rage upon your Sisterhood if you fail.”

As the Reverend Mother Syaksa warned me before I left: “You must do nothing which will bring down his wrath upon us.’.

While I ran beside the Lord Leto on that short peregrination of which I had spoken, I thought to ask him about his likeness to a Reverend Mother. I said:

“Lord, I know how it is that a Reverend Mother acquires the memories of her ancestors and of others. How was it with you?”

“It was a design of our genetic history and the working of the spice. My twin sister, Ghanima, and I were awakened in the womb, aroused before birth into the presence of our ancestral memories.”

“Lord . . . my Sisterhood calls that Abomination.”

“And rightly so,” the Lord Leto said. “The ancestral numbers can be overwhelming. And who knows before the event which force will command such a horde-good or evil?”

“Lord, how did you overcome such a force?’

I did not overcome it,” the Lord Leto said. “But the persistence of the pharaonic model saved both Ghani and me. Do you know that model, Sister Chenoeh?”

“We of the Sisterhood are well coached in history, Lord.”

“Yes, but you do not think of this as I do,” the Lord Leto said. “I speak of a disease of government which was caught by the Greeks who spread it to the Romans who distributed it so far and wide that it never has completely died out.”

“Does my Lord speak riddles?”

“No riddles. I hate this thing, but it saved us. Ghani and I formed powerful internal alliances with ancestors who followed the pharaonic model. They helped us form a mingled identity within that long dormant mob.”

“I find this disturbing, Lord.”

“And well you should.”

“Why are you telling me this now, Lord? You have never answered one of us before in this manner, not that I know of.”

“Because you listen well, Sister Chenoeh; because you will obey me and because I will never see you again.”

The Lord Leto spoke those strange words to me and then he asked:

“Why have you not inquired about what your Sisterhood calls my insane tyranny?”

Emboldened by his manner, I ventured to say: “Lord, we know about some of your bloody executions. They trouble us.”

The Lord Leto then did a strange thing. He closed his eyes as we went, and he said:

“Because I know you have been trained to record accurately whatever words you hear, I will speak to you now, Sister Chenoeh, as though you were a page in one of my journals. Preserve these words well, for I do not want them lost.”

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