Dune

“Or how your Duke lives in me,” Leto said. “Grandmother, Ghanima is you! She’s you to such an extent that your life holds not a single secret from her up to the instant you bore our father. And me! What a catalogue of fleshly recordings am I. There are moments when it is too much to bear. You come here to judge us? You come here to judge Alia? Better that we judge you!”

Jessica demanded answers of herself and found none. What was he doing? Why this emphasis on his difference? Did he court rejection? Had he reached Alia’s condition—Abomination?

“This disturbs you,” he said.

“It disturbs me.” She permitted herself a futile shrug. “Yes, it disturbs me—and for reasons you know full well. I’m sure you’ve reviewed my Bene Gesserit training. Ghanima admits it. I know Alia . . . did. You know the consequences of your difference.”

He peered upward at her with disturbing intensity. “Almost, we did not take this tack with you,” he said, and there was a sense of her own fatigue in his voice. “We know the fluttering of your lips as your lover knew them. Any bedchamber endearment your Duke whispered is ours to recall at will. You’ve accepted this intellectually, no doubt. But I warn you that intellectual acceptance is not enough. If any of us becomes Abomination—it could be you within us who creates it! Or my father . . . or mother! Your Duke! Any one of you could possess us—and the condition would be the same.”

Jessica felt a burning in her chest, dampness in her eyes. “Leto . . .” she managed, allowing herself to use his name at last. She found the pain less than she’d imagined it would be, forced herself to continue. “What is it you want of me?”

“I would teach my grandmother.”

“Teach me what?”

“Last night, Ghani and I played the mother-father roles almost to our destruction, but we learned much. There are things one can know, given an awareness of conditions. Actions can be predicted. Alia, now—it’s well nigh certainty that she’s plotting to abduct you.”

Jessica blinked, shocked by the swift accusation. She knew this trick well, had employed it many times: set a person up along one line of reasoning, then introduce the shocker from another line. She recovered with a sharp intake of breath.

“I know what Alia has been doing . . . what she is, but . . .”

“Grandmother, pity her. Use your heart as well as your intelligence. You’ve done that before. You pose a threat, and Alia wants the Imperium for her own—at least, the thing she has become wants this.”

“How do I know this isn’t another Abomination speaking?”

He shrugged. “That’s where your heart comes in. Ghani and I know how she fell. It isn’t easy to adjust to the clamor of that inner multitude. Suppress their egos and they will come crowding back every time you invoke a memory. One day—” He swallowed in a dry throat. “—a strong one from that inner pack decides it’s time to share the flesh.”

“And there’s nothing you can do?” She asked the question although she feared the answer.

“We believe there is something . . . yes. We cannot succumb to the spice; that’s paramount. And we must not suppress the past entirely. We must use it, make an amalgam of it. Finally we will mix them all into ourselves. We will no longer be our original selves—but we will not be possessed.”

“You speak of a plot to abduct me.”

“It’s obvious. Wensicia is ambitious for her son. Alia is ambitious for herself, and . . .”

“Alia and Farad’n?”

“That’s not indicated,” he said. “But Alia and Wensicia run parallel courses right now. Wensicia has a sister in Alia’s house. What simpler thing than a message to—”

“You know of such a message?”

“As though I’d seen it and read its every word.”

“But you’ve not seen such a message?”

“No need. I have only to know that the Atreides are all here together on Arrakis. All of the water in one cistern.” He gestured to encompass the planet.

“House Corrino wouldn’t dare attack us here!”

“Alia would profit if they did.” A sneer in his voice provoked her.

“I won’t be patronized by my own grandson!” she said.

“Then dammit, woman, stop thinking of me as your grandson! Think of me as your Duke Leto!” Tone and facial expression, even the abrupt hand gesture, were so exact that she fell silent in confusion.

In a dry, remote voice, Leto said: “I tried to prepare you. Give me that, at least.”

“Why would Alia abduct me?”

“To blame it on House Corrino, of course.”

“I don’t believe it. Even for her, this would be . . . monstrous! Too dangerous! How could she do it without . . . I cannot believe this!”

“When it happens, you’ll believe. Ahh, grandmother, Ghani and I have but to eavesdrop within ourselves and we know. It’s simple self-preservation. How else can we even guess at the mistakes being made around us?”

“I do not for a minute accept that abduction is part of Alia’s—”