God Emporer of Dune by Frank Herbert

The guards dragged Nunepi out of the chamber as he still raged: “I am innocent! I am innocent!” The protest faded away.

Idaho leaned close to Leto.

“Yes, Duncan?” Leto asked.

“M’Lord, all the envoys will feel fear at this.”

“Yes. I teach a lesson in responsibility.”

“M’Lord?” “Membership in a conspiracy, as in an army, frees people from the sense of personal responsibility.” “But this will cause trouble, m’Lord. I’d best post extra guards.” “Not one additional guard!” “But you invite . . .” “I invite a bit of military nonsense.” “That’s what I . . .” “Duncan, I am a teacher. Remember that. By repetition, I impress the lesson.” “What lesson?” “The ultimately suicidal nature of military foolishness.” “M’Lord. I don’t. . .” “Duncan, consider the inept Nunepi. He is the essence of this lesson.” “Forgive my denseness, m’Lord, but I do not understand this thing about military . . .” “They believe that by risking death they pay the price of any violent behavior against enemies of their own choosing. They have the invader mentality. Nunepi does not believe himself responsible for anything done against aliens.” Idaho looked at the portal where the guards had taken Nunepi. “He tried and he lost, m’Lord.” “But he cut himself loose from the restraints of the past and he objects to paying the price.” “To his people, he’s a patriot.” “And how does he see himself, Duncan’? As an instrument of history.” Idaho lowered his voice and leaned closer to Leto. “How are you different, m’Lord?” Leto chuckled. “Ahhh, Duncan, how I love your perceptiveness. You have observed that I am the ultimate alien. Do you not wonder if I also can be a loser’?” “The thought has crossed my mind.” “Even losers can shroud themselves in the proud mantle of `the past,’ old friend.” “Are you and Nunepi alike in that’?” “Militant missionary religions can share this illusion of the `proud past,’ but few understand the ultimate peril to humankind-that false sense of freedom from responsibility for your own actions.”

“These are strange words, m’Lord. How do I take their meaning?” “Their meaning is whatever speaks to you. Are you incapable of listening?” “I have ears, m’Lord!” “Do you now’? I cannot see them.” “Here, m’lord. Here and here!” Idaho pointed at his own ears as he spoke. “But they do not hear. Therefore you have no ears. neither here nor hear.” “You make a joke of me, m’Lord?” “To hear is to hear. That which exists cannot be made into itself for it already exists. To be is to be.” “Your strange words. . .” “Are but words. I spoke them. They are gone. No one heard them, therefore they no longer exist. If they no longer exist, perhaps they can be made to exist again and then perhaps someone will hear them.” “Why do you poke fun at me, m’Lord’?” “I poke nothing at you except words. I do it without fear of offending because I have learned that you have no ears.” “I don’t understand you, m’Lord.” “That is the beginning of knowledge-the discovery of something we do not understand.” Before Idaho could respond, Leto gave a hand signal to a nearby guard who waved a hand in front of a crystalline control panel on the wall behind the God Emperor’s dais. A three-dimensional view of Nunepi’s punishment appeared in the center of the chamber.Idaho stepped down to the floor of the chamber and peered closely at the scene. It was shown from a slight elevation looking down on the plaza, and was complete with sounds of the swelling throng who had run to the scene at the first signs of excitement. Nunepi was bound to two legs of a tripod, his feet spread wide, his arms tied together above him almost at the apex of the tripod. His clothing had been ripped from his body and lay around him in rags. A bulky, masked Fish Speaker stood nearby holding an improvised whip fashioned of elacca rope which had been frayed at the end into wire-like fine strands. Idaho thought he recognized the masked woman as the Friend of his first interview.

At a signal from a Guard officer, the masked Fish Speaker stepped forward and brought the elacca whip down in a slashing arc onto Nunepi’s exposed back. Idaho winced. The crowd gasped. Welts appeared where the whip had struck, but Nunepi remained silent. Again, the whip descended. Blood betrayed the lines of this second stroke. Once more, the whip flayed Nunepi’s back. More blood appeared. Leto felt remote sadness. Nayla is too ardent, he thought. She will kill him and that will cause problems. “Duncan!” Leto called. Idaho turned from his fascinated examination of the projected scene just as a shout lifted from the crowd-response to a particularly bloody stroke. “Send someone to stop the flogging after twenty lashes,”‘ Leto said. “Have it announced that the magnanimity of the God Emperor has reduced the punishment.” Idaho raised a hand to one of the guards, who nodded and ran from the chamber. “Come here, Duncan,” Leto said. Still smarting under what he believed was Leto’s poking fun at him, Idaho returned to Leto’s side. “Whatever I do,” Leto said, “it is to teach a lesson.” Idaho rigidly willed himself not to look back at the scene of Nunepi’s punishment. Was that the sound of Nunepi groaning? The shouts of the crowd pierced Idaho. He stared up into Leto’s eyes. “There is a question in your mind,” Leto said. “Many questions, m’Lord.” “Speak them.” “What is the lesson in that fool’s punishment? What do we say when asked?” “We say that no one is permitted to blaspheme against the God Emperor.” “A bloody lesson, m’Lord.” “Not as bloody as some I’ve taught.” Idaho shook his head from side to side in obvious dismay. “Nothing good’s going to come of this!” “Precisely!”

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