God Emporer of Dune by Frank Herbert

She did not even blink at his strategic change of subject.

“They are curious about the inner workings of the religion of the Lord Leto.”

“Are they now?”

“They wish to know how you took religious control away from the Bene Gesserit.”

“No doubt hoping to repeat my performance for themselves?”

“I’m sure that’s in their minds, Lord.”

“Hwi, you are a terrible representative of the lxians.”

“I am your servant, Lord.”

“Have you no curiosities of your own?”

“I fear that my curiosities might disturb you,” she said.

He stared at her a moment, then: “I see. Yes, you are right. We should avoid more intimate conversation for now. Would you like me to talk about the Sisterhood?”

“Yes, that would be good. Do you know that I met one of the Bene Gesserit delegation today?”

“That would be Anteac.”

“I found her frightening,” she said.

“You have nothing to fear from Anteac. She went to your Embassy at my command. Were you aware that you had been invaded by Face Dancers?”

Hwi gasped, then held herself still while a cold sensation filled her breast. “Othwi Yake?” she asked.

“You suspected?”

“It’s just that I did not like him, and I had been told that. . .” She shrugged, then, as realization swept over her: “What has happened to him?”

“The original? He is dead. That’s the usual Face Dancer practice in such circumstances. My Fish Speakers have explicit orders to leave no Face Dancer alive in your Embassy.”

Hwi remained silent, but tears trickled down her cheeks.

This explained the empty streets, Anteac’s enigmatic “Yes.” It explained many things.

“I will provide Fish Speaker assistance for you until you can make other arrangements,” Leto said. “My Fish Speakers will guard you well.”

Hwi shook the tears from her face. The Inquisitors of Ix would react with rage against Tleilax. Would Ix believe her report? Everyone in her Embassy taken over by Face Dancers! It was difficult to believe.

“Everyone?” she asked.

“The Face Dancers had no reason to leave any of your original people alive. You would have been next.”

She shuddered.

“They delayed,” he said, “because they knew they would have to copy you with a precision to defy my senses. They are not sure about my abilities.”

“Then Anteac. . .”

“The Sisterhood and I share an ability to detect Face Dancers. And Anteac . . . well, she is very good at what she does.”

“No one trusts the Tleilaxu,” she said. “Why haven’t they been wiped out long ago?”

“Specialists have their uses as well as their limitations. You surprise me, Hwi. I had not suspected you could be that bloody-minded.”

“The Tleilaxu . . . they are too cruel to be human. They aren’t human!”

“I assure you that humans can be just as cruel. I myself have been cruel on occasion.”

“I know, Lord.”

“With provocation,” he said. “But the only people I have considered eliminating are the Bene Gesserit.”

Her shock was too great for words.

“They are so close to what they should be and yet so far,” he said.

She found her voice. “But the Oral History says. . .”

“The religion of the Reverend Mothers, yes. Once they designed specific religions for specific societies. They called it engineering. How does that strike you?”

“Callous.”

“Indeed. The results fit the mistake. Even after all the grand attempts at ecumenism there were countless gods, minor deities and would-be prophets throughout the Empire.”

“You changed that, Lord.”

“Somewhat. But gods die hard, Hwi. My monotheism dominates, but the original pantheon remains; it has gone underground in various disguises.”

“Lord, I sense in your words . . . a . . .” She shook her head.

“Am I as coldly calculating as the Sisterhood?”

She nodded.

“It was the Fremen who deified my father, the great Muad’Dib. Although he doesn’t really care to be called great.”

“But were the Fremen.. .”

“Were they right? My dearest Hwi, they were sensitive to

the uses of power and they were greedy to maintain their ascendancy.” “I find this . . . disturbing, Lord.” “I can see that. You don’t like the idea that becoming a god could be that simple, as though anyone could do it.” “It sounds much too casual, Lord.” Her voice had a remote and testing quality. “I assure you that anyone could not do it.” “But you imply that you inherited your godhood from. . .” “Never suggest that to a Fish Speaker,” he said. “They react violently against heresy.” She tried to swallow in a dry throat. “I say this only to protect you,” he said. Her voice was faint: “Thank you, Lord.” “My godhood began when I told my Fremen I no longer could give the death-water to the tribes. You know about the death-water?” “In the Dune days, the water recovered from the bodies of the dead,” she said. “Ahhh, you have read Noah Arkwright.” She managed a faint smile. “I told my Fremen the water would be consecrated to a Supreme Deity, left nameless. Fremen were still allowed to control this water through my largesse.” “Water must have been very precious in those days.” “Very! And I, as delegate of this nameless deity, held loose control of that precious water for almost three hundred years.” She chewed at her lower lip. “It still sounds calculating?” he asked. She nodded. “It was. When it came time to consecrate my sister’s water, I performed a miracle. The voices of all the Atreides spoke from Ghani’s urn. Thus, my Fremen discovered that I was their Supreme Deity.” Hwi spoke fearfully, her voice full of puzzled uncertainties at this revelation. “Lord, are you telling me that you are not really a god?” “I am telling you that I do not play hide-and-seek with death.” She stared at him for several minutes before responding in a way which assured him that she understood his deeper meaning. It was a reaction which only intensified her endearment to him.

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