Dune

“Our own transient emotions aren’t pertinent to a solution of the mutual problem,” Scytale said. “They cloud reasoning because the only relevant emotion is the basic fear which brought us to this meeting.”

“We understand,” Irulan said, glancing at the Reverend Mother.

“You must see the dangerous limitations of our shield,” Scytale said. “The oracle cannot chance upon what it cannot understand.”

“You are devious, Scytale,” Irulan said.

How devious she must not guess, Scytale thought. When this is done, we will possess a kwisatz haderach we can control. These others will possess nothing.

“What was the origin of your kwisatz haderach?” the Reverend Mother asked.

“We’ve dabbled in various pure essences,” Scytale said. “Pure good and pure evil. A pure villain who delights only in creating pain and terror can be quite educational.”

“The old Baron Harkonnen, our Emperor’s grandfather, was he a Tleilaxu creation?” Irulan asked.

“Not one of ours,” Scytale said. “But then nature often produces creations as deadly as ours. We merely produce them under conditions where we can study them.”

“I will not be passed by and treated this way!” Edric protested. “Who is it hides this meeting from—”

“You see?” Scytale asked. “Whose best judgment conceals us? What judgment?”

“I wish to discuss our mode of giving Hayt to the Emperor,” Edric insisted. “It’s my understanding that Hayt reflects the old morality that the Atreides learned on his birthworld. Hayt is supposed to make it easy for the Emperor to enlarge his moral nature, to delineate the positive-negative elements of life and religion.”

Scytale smiled, passing a benign gaze over his companions. They were as he’d been led to expect. The old Reverend Mother wielded her emotions like a scythe. Irulan had been well trained for a task at which she had failed, a flawed Bene Gesserit creation. Edric was no more (and no less) than the magician’s hand: he might conceal and distract. For now, Edric relapsed into sullen silence as the others ignored him.

“Do I understand that this Hayt is intended to poison Paul’s psyche?” Irulan asked.

“More or less,” Scytale said.

“And what of the Qizarate?” Irulan asked.

“It requires only the slightest shift in emphasis, a glissade of the emotions, to transform envy into enmity,” Scytale said.

“And CHOAM?” Irulan asked.

“They will rally round profit,” Scytale said.

“What of the other power groups?”

“One invokes the name of government,” Scytale said. “We will annex the less powerful in the name of morality and progress. Our opposition will die of its own entanglements.”

“Alia, too?”

“Hayt is a multi-purpose ghola,” Scytale said. “The Emperor’s sister is of an age when she can be distracted by a charming male designed for that purpose. She will be attracted by his maleness and by his abilities as a mentat.”

Mohiam allowed her old eyes to go wide in surprise. “The ghola’s a mentat? That’s a dangerous move.”

“To be accurate,” Irulan said, “a mentat must have accurate data. What if Paul asks him to define the purpose behind our gift?”

“Hayt will tell the truth,” Scytale said. “It makes no difference.”

“So you leave an escape door open for Paul,” Irulan said.

“A mentat!” Mohiam muttered.

Scytale glanced at the old Reverend Mother, seeing the ancient hates which colored her responses. From the days of the Butlerian Jihad when “thinking machines” had been wiped from most of the universe, computers had inspired distrust. Old emotions colored the human computer as well.

“I do not like the way you smile,” Mohiam said abruptly, speaking in the truth mode as she glared up at Scytale.

In the same mode, Scytale said: “And I think less of what pleases you. But we must work together. We all see that.” He glanced at the Guildsman. “Don’t we, Edric?”

“You teach painful lessons,” Edric said. “I presume you wished to make it plain that I must not assert myself against the combined judgments of my fellow conspirators.”

“You see, he can be taught,” Scytale said.

“I see other things as well,” Edric growled. “The Atreides holds a monopoly on the spice. Without it I cannot probe the future. The Bene Gesserit lose their truthsense. We have stockpiles, but these are finite. Melange is a powerful coin.”

“Our civilization has more than one coin,” Scytale said. “Thus, the law of supply and demand fails.”

“You think to steal the secret of it,” Mohiam wheezed. “And him with a planet guarded by his mad Fremen!”

“The Fremen are civil, educated and ignorant,” Scytale said. “They’re not mad. They’re trained to believe, not to know. Belief can be manipulated. Only knowledge is dangerous.”

“But will I be left with something to father a royal dynasty?” Irulan asked.

They all heard the commitment in her voice, but only Edric smiled at it.

“Something,” Scytale said. “Something.”

“It means the end of this Atreides as a ruling force,” Edric said.