沙丘2

我们很快就听说，丹尼斯对《沙丘》的热情已经引起了努力争取该书版权的人的注意。

制片人玛丽·帕伦特和凯尔·博伊特都是弗兰克·赫伯特原著小说的粉丝，在他们加入传奇娱乐公司，分别担任全球制作副主席和创意事务执行副总裁之前，就已经开始求购这本书的电影版权了。

尽管这个故事是在20世纪60年代写就的，但它仍然有着极强的现实意义。”玛丽说，“从主题上讲，它描绘了全人类目前面临的挑战，例如生态崩溃的世界、腐败和不断移位的政治流沙。这些主题的中心，是一个年轻人努力驾驭我们的新世界的成长故事。”与赫伯特遗产管理会的沟通始于2012年。“我们开始了洽谈购买电影版权的征途，”凯尔回忆道，“我们在2016年加入了传奇公司，这让我们能够站在第一线，把制作这部电影列为当务之急。”几年来，各大电影公司一直在找弗兰克·赫伯特遗产管理会——由弗兰克·赫伯特的长子布莱恩·赫伯特、外孙拜伦·梅里特和孙女金·赫伯特管理——商谈购买《沙丘》的电影版权。

2015年2月，布莱恩和他的妻子扬前往洛杉矶，与传奇影业会面。“会议进行得非常顺利，”布莱恩回忆道，“但其他电影公司也有兴趣，遗产管理会要做出一项重要决定，这个决定将对’沙丘系列电影的未来产生至关重要的影响。”次年9月，当丹尼斯表达了他毕生的愿望——执导一部改编自《沙丘》小说的电影时，赫伯特遗产管理会心动了。“我们决定不和他直接联系，因为当时我们的工作室还没有建好。”布莱恩解释道。

CHAPTER 3

Thus spoke St. Alia-of-the-Knife: “The Reverend Mother must combine the seductive wiles of acourtesan with the untouchable majesty of a virgin goddess, holding these attributes in tension so long as the powers of her youth endure. For when youth and beauty have gone, she will find that the placebetween, once occupied by tension, has become a well-spring of cunning and resourcefulness.” —from“Muad’Dib, Family Commentaries” by the Princess Irulan

“WELL, JESSICA, what have you to say for yourself?” asked the Reverend Mother.

It was near sunset at Castle Caladan on the day of Paul’s ordeal. The two women were alone in Jessica’s morning room while Paul waited in the adjoining soundproofed Meditation Chamber.

Jessica stood facing the south windows. She saw and yet did not see the evening’s banked colors across meadow and river. She heard and yet did not hear the Reverend Mother’s question.

There had been another ordeal once—so many years ago. A skinny girl with hair the color of bronze, her body tortured by the winds of puberty, had entered the study of the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam, Proctor Superior of the Bene Gesserit school on Wallach IX. Jessica looked down at her right hand, flexed the fingers, remembering the pain, the terror, the anger.

“Poor Paul,” she whispered.

“I asked you a question, Jessica!” The old woman’s voice was snappish, demanding.

“What? Oh….” Jessica tore her attention away from the past, faced the Reverend Mother, who sat with back to the stone wall between the two west windows. “What do you want me to say?”

“What do I want you to say? What do I want you to say?” The old voice carried a tone of cruel mimicry.

“So I had a son!” Jessica flared. And she knew she was being goaded into this anger deliberately.

“You were told to bear only daughters to the Atreides.”

“It meant so much to him,” Jessica pleaded.

“And you in your pride thought you could produce the Kwisatz Haderach!” Jessica lifted her chin. “I sensed the possibility.”

“You thought only of your Duke’s desire for a son,” the old woman snapped.

“And his desires don’t figure in this. An Atreides daughter could’ve been wed to a Harkonnen heir and sealed the breach. You’ve hopelessly complicated matters.

We may lose both bloodlines now.”

“You’re not infallible,” Jessica said. She braved the steady stare from the old eyes.

Presently, the old woman muttered: “What’s done is done.”

“I vowed never to regret my decision,” Jessica said.

“How noble,” the Reverend Mother sneered. “No regrets. We shall see when you’re a fugitive with a price on your head and every man’s hand turned against you to seek your life and the life of your son.” Jessica paled. “Is there no alternative?”

“Alternative? A Bene Gesserit should ask that?”

“I ask only what you see in the future with your superior abilities.”

“I see in the future what I’ve seen in the past. You well know the pattern of our affairs, Jessica. The race knows its own mortality and fears stagnation of its heredity. It’s in the bloodstream—the urge to mingle genetic strains without plan. The Imperium, the CHOAM Company, all the Great Houses, they are but bits of flotsam in the path of the flood.”

“CHOAM,” Jessica muttered. “I suppose it’s already decided how they’ll redivide the spoils of Arrakis.”

“What is CHOAM but the weather vane of our times,” the old woman said.

“The Emperor and his friends now command fifty-nine point six-five per cent of the CHOAM directorship’s votes. Certainly they smell profits, and likely as others smell those same profits his voting strength will increase. This is the pattern of history, girl.”

“That’s certainly what I need right now,” Jessica said. “A review of history.”

“Don’t be facetious, girl! You know as well as I do what forces surround us.

We’ve a three-point civilization: the Imperial Household balanced against the Federated Great Houses of the Landsraad, and between them, the Guild with its damnable monopoly on interstellar transport. In politics, the tripod is the most unstable of all structures. It’d be bad enough without the complication of a feudal trade culture which turns its back on most science.” Jessica spoke bitterly: “Chips in the path of the flood—and this chip here, this is the Duke Leto, and this one’s his son, and this one’s—”

“Oh, shut up, girl. You entered this with full knowledge of the delicate edge you walked.”

“ ‘I am Bene Gesserit: I exist only to serve,’ ” Jessica quoted.

“Truth,” the old woman said. “And all we can hope for now is to prevent this from erupting into general conflagration, to salvage what we can of the key bloodlines.” Jessica closed her eyes, feeling tears press out beneath the lids. She fought down the inner trembling, the outer trembling, the uneven breathing, the ragged pulse, the sweating of the palms. Presently, she said, “I’ll pay for my own mistake.”

“And your son will pay with you.”

“I’ll shield him as well as I’m able.”

“Shield!” the old woman snapped. “You well know the weakness there! Shield your son too much, Jessica, and he’ll not grow strong enough to fulfill any destiny.” Jessica turned away, looked out the window at the gathering darkness. “Is it really that terrible, this planet of Arrakis?”

“Bad enough, but not all bad. The Missionaria Protectiva has been in there and softened it up somewhat.” The Reverend Mother heaved herself to her feet, straightened a fold in her gown. “Call the boy in here. I must be leaving soon.”

“Must you?” The old woman’s voice softened. “Jessica, girl, I wish I could stand in your place and take your sufferings. But each of us must make her own path.”

“I know.”

“You’re as dear to me as any of my own daughters, but I cannot let that interfere with duty.”

“I understand … the necessity.”

“What you did, Jessica, and why you did it—we both know. But kindness forces me to tell you there’s little chance your lad will be the Bene Gesserit Totality. You mustn’t let yourself hope too much.” Jessica shook tears from the corners of her eyes. It was an angry gesture.

“You make me feel like a little girl again—reciting my first lesson.” She forced the words out: “ ‘Humans must never submit to animals.’ ” A dry sob shook her.

In a low voice, she said: “I’ve been so lonely.”

“It should be one of the tests,” the old woman said. “Humans are almost always lonely. Now summon the boy. He’s had a long, frightening day. But he’s had time to think and remember, and I must ask the other questions about these dreams of his.” Jessica nodded, went to the door of the Meditation Chamber, opened it.

“Paul, come in now, please.” Paul emerged with a stubborn slowness. He stared at his mother as though she were a stranger. Wariness veiled his eyes when he glanced at the Reverend Mother, but this time he nodded to her, the nod one gives an equal. He heard his mother close the door behind him.

“Young man,” the old woman said, “let’s return to this dream business.”

“What do you want?”

“Do you dream every night?”

“Not dreams worth remembering. I can remember every dream, but some are worth remembering and some aren’t.”

“How do you know the difference?”

“I just know it.” The old woman glanced at Jessica, back to Paul. “What did you dream last night? Was it worth remembering?”

“Yes.” Paul closed his eyes. “I dreamed a cavern … and water … and a girl there—very skinny with big eyes. Her eyes are all blue, no whites in them. I talk to her and tell her about you, about seeing the Reverend Mother on Caladan.” Paul opened his eyes.

“And the thing you tell this strange girl about seeing me, did it happen today?” Paul thought about this, then: “Yes. I tell the girl you came and put a stamp of strangeness on me.”

“Stamp of strangeness,” the old woman breathed, and again she shot a glance at Jessica, returned her attention to Paul. “Tell me truly now, Paul, do you often have dreams of things that happen afterward exactly as you dreamed them?”

“Yes. And I’ve dreamed about that girl before.”

“Oh? You know her?”

“I will know her.”

“Tell me about her.” Again, Paul closed his eyes. “We’re in a little place in some rocks where it’s sheltered. It’s almost night, but it’s hot and I can see patches of sand out of an opening in the rocks. We’re… waiting for something … for me to go meet some people. And she’s frightened but trying to hide it from me, and I’m excited. And she says: ‘Tell me about the waters of your homeworld, Usul.’ ” Paul opened his eyes. “Isn’t that strange? My homeworld’s Caladan. I’ve never even heard of a planet called Usul.”

“Is there more to this dream?” Jessica prompted.

“Yes. But maybe she was calling me Usul,” Paul said. “I just thought of that.” Again, he closed his eyes. “She asks me to tell her about the waters. And I take her hand. And I say I’ll tell her a poem. And I tell her the poem, but I have to explain some of the words—like beach and surf and seaweed and seagulls.”

“What poem?” the Reverend Mother asked.

Paul opened his eyes. “It’s just one of Gurney Halleck’s tone poems for sad times.” Behind Paul, Jessica began to recite: “I remember salt smoke from a beach fire And shadows under the pines— Solid, clean … fixed— Seagulls perched at the tip of land, White upon green … And a wind comes through the pines To sway the shadows; The seagulls spread their wings, Lift And fill the sky with screeches.

And I hear the wind Blowing across our beach, And the surf, And I see that our fire Has scorched the seaweed.”

“That’s the one,” Paul said.

The old woman stared at Paul, then: “Young man, as a Proctor of the Bene Gesserit, I seek the Kwisatz Haderach, the male who truly can become one of us.

Your mother sees this possibility in you, but she sees with the eyes of a mother.

Possibility I see, too, but no more.” She fell silent and Paul saw that she wanted him to speak. He waited her out.

Presently, she said: “As you will, then. You’ve depths in you; that I’ll grant.”

“May I go now?” he asked.

“Don’t you want to hear what the Reverend Mother can tell you about the Kwisatz Haderach?” Jessica asked.

“She said those who tried for it died.”

“But I can help you with a few hints at why they failed,” the Reverend Mother said.

She talks of hints, Paul thought. She doesn’t really know anything. And he said: “Hint then.”

“And be damned to me?” She smiled wryly, a crisscross of wrinkles in the old face. “Very well: ‘That which submits rules.’ ” He felt astonishment: she was talking about such elementary things as tension within meaning. Did she think his mother had taught him nothing at all? “That’s a hint?” he asked.

“We’re not here to bandy words or quibble over their meaning,” the old woman said. “The willow submits to the wind and prospers until one day it is many willows—a wall against the wind. This is the willow’s purpose.” Paul stared at her. She said purpose and he felt the word buffet him, reinfecting him with terrible purpose. He experienced a sudden anger at her: fatuous old witch with her mouth full of platitudes.

“You think I could be this Kwisatz Haderach,” he said. “You talk about me, but you haven’t said one thing about what we can do to help my father. I’ve heard you talking to my mother. You talk as though my father were dead. Well, he isn’t!”

“If there were a thing to be done for him, we’d have done it,” the old woman growled. “We may be able to salvage you. Doubtful, but possible. But for your father, nothing. When you’ve learned to accept that as a fact, you’ve learned a real Bene Gesserit lesson.” Paul saw how the words shook his mother. He glared at the old woman. How could she say such a thing about his father? What made her so sure? His mind seethed with resentment.

The Reverend Mother looked at Jessica. “You’ve been training him in the Way—I’ve seen the signs of it. I’d have done the same in your shoes and devil take the Rules.” Jessica nodded.

“Now, I caution you,” said the old woman, “to ignore the regular order of training. His own safety requires the Voice. He already has a good start in it, but we both know how much more he needs … and that desperately.” She stepped close to Paul, stared down at him. “Goodbye, young human. I hope you make it.

But if you don’t—well, we shall yet succeed.” Once more she looked at Jessica. A flicker sign of understanding passed between them. Then the old woman swept from the room, her robes hissing, with not another backward glance. The room and its occupants already were shut from her thoughts.

But Jessica had caught one glimpse of the Reverend Mother’s face as she turned away. There had been tears on the seamed cheeks. The tears were more unnerving than any other word or sign that had passed between them this day.

You have read that Muad‘Dib had no playmates his own age on Caladan. The dangers were too great.

But Muad’Dib did have wonderful companionteachers. There was Gurney Halleck, the troubadour-warrior. You will sing some of Gurney’s songs as you read along in this book. There was Thufir Hawat, the old Mentat Master of Assassins, who struck fear even into the heart of the Padishah Emperor. There were Duncan Idaho, the Swordmaster of the Ginaz;

“《沙丘》的故事情节就跟制作电影的过程一样精细而复杂。”

——执行制片人监作者坦尼亚·拉朋特

在弗兰克·赫伯特的《沙丘》中，我最喜欢的一句话是“计中计”。它不仅概括了小说故事情节的复杂性和信息密度，而且准确地描述了电影制作过程。就像俄罗斯套娃一样，电影的制作过程中也有很多看不见的部分。你永远不知道有多少层嵌套，直到你着手把它们拆解开来。

作为《沙丘》的执行制片人，我参与了所有的制作会议和艺术决策。我的首要任务是将导演丹尼斯·维伦纽瓦的想象变为现实。在过去的五年里，这位法裔加拿大电影人一直都在和我一起工作生病时也不例外，先是《降临》，然后是《银翼杀手2049》，现在是《沙丘》。我近距离地目睹了他的创作过程，并一次又一次地见证了他制作独具一格、充满智慧又感人至深的科幻电影的决心。

改编弗兰克·赫伯特的小说一向是庞大艰巨的任务。如果你读过这部1965年出版的杰作，你一定对此了然于胸。《沙丘》讲述了保罗·厄崔迪的故事，他在郁郁葱葱的卡拉丹星球出生并长大，父亲是雷托·厄崔迪公爵，母亲杰西卡夫人是掌控着血统传承的贝尼·杰瑟里特姐妹会的成员。当皇帝——帝国的统治者——命令厄崔迪家族迁往一颗名为“厄拉科斯”，又被称作沙丘”的沙漠星球时，这位年轻继承人的平静生活结束了。这颗星球是已知宇宙中唯一可以找到并收集香料的地方。香料是一种精神药物，可以提供太空旅行所需的预见能力。帝国的香料贸易堪比真实世界的石油工业。

在过去的八十年里，厄拉科斯一直由冷酷无情的哈克南家族控，这一地位使得该家族非常富有。弗拉基米尔·哈克南男爵，一个肥胖而又残忍的人，不愿看到这颗星球落入他的死敌厄崔迪家之手，于是着手酝酿复仇计划。同时，当地凶猛的沙漠战士群“弗雷曼人”称保罗为“李桑·阿尔－盖布”，意思是“天外之音”，指的是贝尼·杰瑟里特在很久以前就种下的传说和迷信。

据这些信仰，年轻的保罗是一位救世主，将带领弗雷曼人获得救。这个男孩经历了他的第一次香料幻觉后，开始认为这个预言可是真的。雷托公爵试图与弗雷曼人结成联盟，但为时已晚：哈克男家族大举进攻，在皇帝的帮助下消灭了厄崔迪家族，而皇帝从一开始就参与了这个计划。巴罗和杰西卡摆脱了敌人，逃到沙漠深处，并在那里与弗雷曼人开始了新的旅程。

这的确是“计中计”。《沙丘》的故事情节就跟制作电影的过程一样精细而复杂。

文/丹尼斯·维伦纽瓦

沙漠能在人心中激发出一种深沉的孤独感。它能唤起吴可儿逃避的自省。像显微镜一样，沙漠能放大我们的生存恐惧。我们从一切社会结构中剥离出来，被赤裸裸地扔在那里，迎头撞上无限的空间和时间所带来的眩晕。沙漠如同催眠一般，将我们带回人类资深存在的先决条件。它引发出快乐、谦逊、由于，有时甚至是一种荒凉的恐怖。正是这种与世隔绝的感觉点燃了《沙丘》制作设计灵感。

我立即想到，艺术指导帕特里斯·弗米特将是执行这项任务的完美人选。他对探索新的创造性领域的巨大热情，使他成为理所当然的选择。我需要他狂野的想象力和狂热的激情，但也需要他绝佳的感知力。我相信，帕特里斯会理解我的目标是什么。我还知道，他在艺术上足够疯狂，他能找到一种方法，触碰到这场海市蜃楼的边缘。

1965年创作《沙丘》时，弗拉克·赫伯特正在遥远未来的未知风暴中。几十年后，帕特里斯不得不重走此路，从而用视觉形象呈现出作者在小说中想象出的一切。我知道帕特里斯将帮助我创造我们从未见过的世界，并将我们在阅读这部著作时脑海中所呈现出的画面带到大银幕上。

对我来说，重要的是沙丘迷们认可这是弗兰克·赫伯特对这个宇宙的描绘，或者至少，让他们感受到电影与这本书的精神有着深刻联系。我们试图尽可能地忠实于它，但有时候，由于对原著纯粹的热爱，我们也可能逸出小说的边界。将一个故事搬上大银幕需要改变其形态。这是一种必要之举。为了忠实地改编他人作品的诗意和精髓，你有时需要在某些方面背离它，然后，心平气和地接受了这一决定，从而创造性地走出困境。一旦开始穿越沙漠，你就不能停下。你必须向前走。

设计和拍摄这部电影过程中，我一直津贴弗兰克·赫伯特的文字。如果没有他的文字，我将永远无法找到自己的路，去穿越这些焦灼的幻象。

请欣赏帕特里斯和所有与我们合作的艺术家的作品。

先不说第一部好不好看了，当我看到2：00的时候应该就想着还有半小时是要杀回去复仇的戏份了，然而就这个结尾都只是刚刚组好队了就收了，难不成不拍个第二部来顺理成章岂不是要像当年倚天屠龙记之魔教教主一样被人遗憾终身吗？

另外，别拿这个电影跟指环王去比，不是一种类型的片子，而且指环王的剧情虽然长，却没有让人觉得多余的拖沓，每一处都很有意思的真正神作！

CHAPTER 12

Over the exit of the Arrakeen landing field, crudely carved as though with a poor instrument, there was an inscription that Muad‘Dib was to repeat many times. He saw it that first night on Arrakis, having been brought to the ducal command post to participate in his father’s first full staff conference.

The words of the inscription were a plea to those leaving Arrakis, but they fell with dark import on the eyes of a boy who had just escaped a close brush with death. They said: “O you who know what we suffer here, do not forget us in your prayers,”

—from “Manual of Muad’Dib”by thePrincess Irulan

“THE WHOLE theory of warfare is calculated risk,”the Duke said, “but when it comes to risking your own family, the element of calculation gets submerged in … other things.” He knew he wasn’t holding in his anger as well as he should, and he turned, strode down the length of the long table and back.

The Duke and Paul were alone in the conference room at the landing field. It was an empty-sounding room, furnished only with the long table, old-fashioned three-legged chairs around it, and a map board and projector at one end. Paul sat at the table near the map board. He had told his father the experience with the hunter-seeker and given the reports that a traitor threatened him.

The Duke stopped across from Paul, pounded the table: “Hawat told me that house was secure!” Paul spoke hesitantly: “I was angry, too—at first. And I blamed Hawat. But the threat came from outside the house. It was simple, clever, and direct. And it would’ve succeeded were it not for the training given me by you and many others—including Hawat.”

“Are you defending him?”the Duke demanded.

“Yes.”

“He’s getting old. That’s it. He should be—”

“He’s wise with much experience,”Paul said. “How many of Hawat’s mistakes can you recall?”

“I should be the one defending him,”the Duke said. “Not you.” Paul smiled.

Leto sat down at the head of the table, put a hand over his son’s. “You’ve … matured lately, Son.”He lifted his hand. “It gladdens me.”He matched his son’s smile. “Hawat will punish himself. He’ll direct more anger against himself over this than both of us together could pour on him.” Paul glanced toward the darkened windows beyond the map board, looked at the night’s blackness. Room lights reflected from a balcony railing out there. He saw movement and recognized the shape of a guard in Atreides uniform. Paul looked back at the white wall behind his father, then down to the shiny surface of the table, seeing his own hands clenched into fists there.

The door opposite the Duke banged open. Thufir Hawat strode through it looking older and more leathery than ever. He paced down the length of the table, stopped at attention facing Leto.

“My Lord,”he said, speaking to a point over Leto’s head, “I have just learned how I failed you. It becomes necessary that I tender my resig—”

“Oh, sit down and stop acting the fool,”the Duke said. He waved to the chair across from Paul. “If you made a mistake, it was in overestimating the Harkonnens. Their simple minds came up with a simple trick. We didn’t count on simple tricks. And my son has been at great pains to point out to me that he came through this largely because of your training. You didn’t fail there!”He tapped the back of the empty chair. “Sit down, I say!” Hawat sank into the chair. “But—”

“I’ll hear no more of it,”the Duke said. “The incident is past. We have more pressing business. Where are the others?”

“I asked them to wait outside while I—”

“Call them in.” Hawat looked into Leto’s eyes. “Sire, I—”

“I know who my true friends are, Thufir,”the Duke said. “Call in the men.” Hawat swallowed. “At once, my Lord.”He swiveled in the chair, called to the open door: “Gurney, bring them in.” Halleck led the file of men into the room, the staff officers looking grimly serious followed by the younger aides and specialists, an air of eagerness among them. Brief scuffing sounds echoed around the room as the men took seats. A faint smell of rachag stimulant wafted down the table.

“There’s coffee for those who want it,”the Duke said.

He looked over his men, thinking: They’re a good crew. A man could do far worse for this kind of war. He waited while coffee was brought in from the adjoining room and served, noting the tiredness in some of the faces.

Presently, he put on his mask of quiet efficiency, stood up and commanded their attention with a knuckle rap against the table.

“Well, gentlemen,”he said, “our civilization appears to’ve fallen so deeply into the habit of invasion that we cannot even obey a simple order of the Imperium without the old ways cropping up.” Dry chuckles sounded around the table, and Paul realized that his father had said the precisely correct thing in precisely the correct tone to lift the mood here.

Even the hint of fatigue in his voice was right.

“I think first we’d better learn if Thufir has anything to add to his report on the Fremen,”the Duke said. “Thufir?” Hawat glanced up. “I’ve some economic matters to go into after my general report, Sire, but I can say now that the Fremen appear more and more to be the allies we need. They’re waiting now to see if they can trust us, but they appear to be dealing openly. They’ve sent us a gift—stillsuits of their own manufacture … maps of certain desert areas surrounding strongpoints the Harkonnens left behind….”He glanced down at the table.“Their intelligence reports have proved completely reliable and have helped us considerably in our dealings with the Judge of the Change. They’ve also sent some incidental things—jewelry for the Lady Jessica, spice liquor, candy, medicinals. My men are processing the lot right now. There appears to be no trickery.”

“You like these people, Thufir?”asked a man down the table.

Hawat turned to face his questioner. “Duncan Idaho says they’re to be admired.” Paul glanced at his father, back to Hawat, ventured a question: “Have you any new information on how many Fremen there are?” Hawat looked at Paul. “From food processing and other evidence, Idaho estimates the cave complex he visited consisted of some ten thousand people, all told. Their leader said he ruled a sietch of two thousand hearths. We’ve reason to believe there are a great many such sietch communities. All seem to give their allegiance to someone called Liet.”

“That’s something new,”Leto said.

“It could be an error on my part, Sire. There are things to suggest this Liet may be a local diety.” Another man down the table cleared his throat, asked: “Is it certain they deal with the smugglers?”

“A smuggler caravan left this sietch while Idaho was there, carrying a heavy load of spice. They used pack beasts and indicated they faced an eighteen-day journey.” “It appears,”the Duke said, “that the smugglers have redoubled their operations during this period of unrest. This deserves some careful thought. We shouldn’t worry too much about unlicensed frigates working off our planet—it’s always done. But to have them completely outside our observation—that’s not good.”

“You have a plan, Sire,”Hawat asked.

The Duke looked at Halleck. “Gurney, I want you to head a delegation, an embassy if you will, to contact these romantic businessmen. Tell them I’ll ignore their operations as long as they give me a ducal tithe. Hawat here estimates that graft and extra fighting men heretofore required in their operations have been costing them four times that amount.”

“What if the Emperor gets wind of this?”Halleck asked. “He’s very jealous of his CHOAM profits, m’Lord.” Leto smiled. “We’ll bank the entire tithe openly in the name of Shaddam IV and deduct it legally from our levy support costs. Let the Harkonnens fight that! And we’ll be ruining a few more of the locals who grew fat under the Harkonnen system. No more graft!” A grin twisted Halleck’s face. “Ahh, m’Lord, a beautiful low blow. Would that I could see the Baron’s face when he learns of this.” The Duke turned to Hawat. “Thufir, did you get those account books you said you could buy?”

“Yes, my Lord. They’re being examined in detail even now. I’ve skimmed them, though, and can give a first approximation.”

“Give it, then.”

“The Harkonnens took ten billion solaris out of here every three hundred and thirty Standard days.” A muted gasp ran around the table. Even the younger aides, who had been betraying some boredom, sat up straighter and exchanged wide-eyed looks.

Halleck murmured: “‘For they shall suck of the abundance of the seas and of the treasure hid in the sand.’ ”

“You see, gentlemen,”Leto said. “Is there anyone here so naive he believes the Harkonnens have quietly packed up and walked away from all this merely because the Emperor ordered it?” There was a general shaking of heads, murmurous agreement.

“We will have to take it at the point of the sword,”Leto said. He turned to Hawat. “This’d be a good point to report on equipment. How many sandcrawlers, harvesters, spice factories, and supporting equipment have they left us?”

“A full complement, as it says in the Imperial inventory audited by the Judge of the Change, my Lord,”Hawat said. He gestured for an aide to pass him a folder, opened the folder on the table in front of him. “They neglect to mention that less than half the crawlers are operable, that only about a third have carryalls to fly them to spice sands—that everything the Harkonnens left us is ready to break down and fall apart. We’ll be lucky to get half the equipment into operation and luckier yet if a fourth of it’s still working six months from now.”

“Pretty much as we expected,”Leto said. “What’s the firm estimate on basic equipment?” Hawat glanced at his folder. “About nine hundred and thirty harvesterfactories that can be sent out in a few days. About sixty-two hundred and fifty ornithopters for survey, scouting, and weather observation … carryalls, a little under a thousand.” Halleck said: “Wouldn’t it be cheaper to reopen negotiations with the Guild for permission to orbit a frigate as a weather satellite?” The Duke looked at Hawat. “Nothing new there, eh, Thufir?”

“We must pursue other avenues for now,”Hawat said. “The Guild agent wasn’t really negotiating with us. He was merely making it plain—one Mentat to another—that the price was out of our reach and would remain so no matter how long a reach we develop. Our task is to find out why before we approach him again.” One of Halleck’s aides down the table swiveled in his chair, snapped: “There’s no justice in this!”

“Justice?”The Duke looked at the man. “Who asks for justice? We make our own justice. We make it here on Arrakis—win or die. Do you regret casting your lot with us, sir?” The man stared at the Duke, then: “No, Sire. You couldn’t turn and I could do nought but follow you. Forgive the outburst, but….”He shrugged. “… we must all feel bitter at times.”

“Bitterness I understand,”the Duke said. “But let us not rail about justice as long as we have arms and the freedom to use them. Do any of the rest of you harbor bitterness? If so, let it out. This is friendly council where any man may speak his mind.” Halleck stirred, said: “I think what rankles, Sire, is that we’ve had no volunteers from the other Great Houses. They address you as ‘Leto the Just’ and promise eternal friendship, but only as long as it doesn’t cost them anything.”

“They don’t know yet who’s going to win this exchange,”the Duke said.

“Most of the Houses have grown fat by taking few risks. One cannot truly blame them for this; one can only despise them.”He looked at Hawat. “We were discussing equipment. Would you care to project a few examples to familiarize the men with this machinery?” Hawat nodded, gestured to an aide at the projector.

A solido tri-D projection appeared on the table surface about a third of the way down from the Duke. Some of the men farther along the table stood up to get a better look at it.

Paul leaned forward, staring at the machine.

Scaled against the tiny projected human figures around it, the thing was about one hundred and twenty meters long and about forty meters wide. It was basically a long, buglike body moving on independent sets of wide tracks.

“This is a harvester factory,”Hawat said. “We chose one in good repair for this projection. There’s one dragline outfit that came in with the first team of Imperial ecologists, though, and it’s still running … although I don’t know how … or why.”

“If that’s the one they call ‘Old Maria,’ it belongs in a museum,”an aide said. “I think the Harkonnens kept it as a punishment job, a threat hanging over their workers’ heads. Be good or you’ll be assigned to Old Maria.” Chuckles sounded around the table.

Paul held himself apart from the humor, his attention focused on the projection and the question that filled his mind. He pointed to the image on the table, said: “Thufir, are there sandworms big enough to swallow that whole?” Quick silence settled on the table. The Duke cursed under his breath, then thought: No—they have tofacethe realities here.

“There’re worms in the deep desert could take this entire factory in one gulp,”Hawat said. “Up here closer to the Shield Wall where most of the spicing’s done there are plenty of worms that could cripple this factory and devour it at their leisure.”

“Why don’t we shield them?”Paul asked.

“According to Idaho’s report,”Hawat said, “shields are dangerous in the desert. A body-size shield will call every worm for hundreds of meters around. It appears to drive them into a killing frenzy. We’ve the Fremen word on this and no reason to doubt it. Idaho saw no evidence of shield equipment at the sietch.”

“None at all?”Paul asked.

“It’d be pretty hard to conceal that kind of thing among several thousand people,”Hawat said. “Idaho had free access to every part of the sietch. He saw no shields or any indication of their use.”

“It’s a puzzle,”the Duke said.

“The Harkonnens certainly used plenty of shields here,”Hawat said. “They had repair depots in every garrison village, and their accounts show a heavy expenditure for shield replacements and parts.” “Could the Fremen have a way of nullifying shields?”Paul asked.

“It doesn’t seem likely,”Hawat said. “It’s theoretically possible, of course— a shire-sized static counter charge is supposed to do the trick, but no one’s ever been able to put it to the test.”

“We’d have heard about it before now,”Halleck said. “The smugglers have close contact with the Fremen and would’ve acquired such a device if it were available. And they’d have had no inhibitions against marketing it off planet.”

“I don’t like an unanswered question of this importance,”Leto said. “Thufir, I want you to give top priority to solution of this problem.”

“We’re already working on it, my Lord.”He cleared his throat. “Ah-h, Idaho did say one thing: he said you couldn’t mistake the Fremen attitude toward shields. He said they were mostly amused by them.” The Duke frowned, then: “The subject under discussion is spicing equipment.” Hawat gestured to his aide at the projector.

The solido-image of the harvester-factory was replaced by a projection of a winged device that dwarfed the images of human figures around it. “This is a carryall,”Hawat said. “It’s essentially a large ‘thopter, whose sole function is to deliver a factory to spice-rich sands, then to rescue the factory when a sandworm appears. They always appear. Harvesting the spice is a process of getting in and getting out with as much as possible.”

“Admirably suited to Harkonnen morality,”the Duke said.

Laughter was abrupt and too loud.

An ornithopter replaced the carryall in the projection focus.

“These ‘thopters are fairly conventional,”Hawat said. “Major modifications give them extended range. Extra care has been used in sealing essential areas against sand and dust. Only about one in thirty is shielded—possibly discarding the shield generator’s weight for greater range.”

“I don’t like this de-emphasis on shields,”the Duke muttered. And he thought: Is this the Harkonnen secret? Does it mean we won’t even be able to escape on shielded frigates if all goes against us? He shook his head sharply to drive out such thoughts, said: “Let’s get to the working estimate. What’ll our profit figure be?” Hawat turned two pages in his notebook. “After assessing the repairs and operable equipment, we’ve worked out a first estimate on operating costs. It’s based naturally on a depreciated figure for a clear safety margin.”He closed his eyes in Mentat semitrance, said: “Under the Harkonnens, maintenance and salaries were held to fourteen per cent. We’ll be lucky to make it at thirty per cent at first. With reinvestment and growth factors accounted for, including the CHOAM percentage and military costs, our profit margin will be reduced to a very narrow six or seven per cent until we can replace worn-out equipment. We then should be able to boost it up to twelve or fifteen per cent where it belongs.” He opened his eyes. “Unless my Lord wishes to adopt Harkonnen methods.”

“We’re working for a solid and permanent planetary base,”the Duke said.

“We have to keep a large percentage of the people happy—especially the Fremen.”

“Most especially the Fremen,”Hawat agreed.

“Our supremacy on Caladan,”the Duke said, “depended on sea and air power. Here, we must develop something I choose to call desert power. This may include air power, but it’s possible it may not. I call your attention to the lack of ‘thopter shields.”He shook his head. “The Harkonnens relied on turnover from off planet for some of their key personnel. We don’t dare. Each new lot would have its quota of provocateurs.”

“Then we’ll have to be content with far less profit and a reduced harvest,” Hawat said. “Our output the first two seasons should be down a third from the Harkonnen average.”

“There it is,”the Duke said, “exactly as we expected. ”We’ll have to move fast with the Fremen. I’d like five full battalions of Fremen troops before the first CHOAM audit.”

“That’s not much time, Sire,”Hawat said.

“We don’t have much time, as you well know. They’ll be here with Sardaukar disguised as Harkonnens at the first opportunity. How many do you think they’ll ship in, Thufir?”

“Four or five battalions all told, Sire. No more, Guild troop-transport costs being what they are.”

“Then five battalions of Fremen plus our own forces ought to do it. Let us have a few captive Sardaukar to parade in front of the Landsraad Council and matters will be much different—profits or no profits.”

“We’ll do our best, Sire.” Paul looked at his father, back to Hawat, suddenly conscious of the Mentat’s great age, aware that the old man had served three generations of Atreides. Aged.

It showed in the rheumy shine of the brown eyes, in the cheeks cracked and burned by exotic weathers, in the rounded curve of the shoulders and the thin set of his lips with the cranberry-colored stain of sapho juice.

So much depends on one aged man, Paul thought.

“We’re presently in a war of assassins,”the Duke said, “but it has not achieved full scale. Thufir, what’s the condition of the Harkonnen machine here?”

“We’ve eliminated two hundred and fifty-nine of their key people, my Lord.

No more than three Harkonnen cells remain—perhaps a hundred people in all.”

“These Harkonnen creatures you eliminated,”the Duke said, “were they propertied?”

“Most were well situated, my Lord—in the entrepreneur class.”

“I want you to forge certificates of allegiance over the signatures of each of them,”the Duke said. “File copies with the Judge of the Change. We’ll take the legal position that they stayed under false allegiance. Confiscate their property, take everything, turn out their families, strip them. And make sure the Crown gets its ten per cent. It must be entirely legal.” Thufir smiled, revealing red-stained teeth beneath the carmine lips. “A move worthy of your grandsire, my Lord. It shames me I didn’t think of it first.” Halleck frowned across the table, noticing a deep scowl on Paul’s face. The others were smiling and nodding.

It’s wrong, Paul thought. This’ll only make the others fight all the harder.

They’ve nothing to gain by surrendering.

He knew the actual no-holds-barred convention that ruled in kanly, but this was the sort of move that could destroy them even as it gave them victory.

“ ‘I have been a stranger in a strange land,’ ”Halleck quoted.

Paul stared at him, recognizing the quotation from the O.C. Bible, wondering: Does Gurney, too, wish an end to devious plots? The Duke glanced at the darkness out the windows, looked back at Halleck.

“Gurney, how many of those sandworkers did you persuade to stay with us?”

“Two hundred eighty-six in all, Sire. I think we should take them and consider ourselves lucky. They’re all in useful categories.”

“No more?”The Duke pursed his lips, then: “Well, pass the word along to —” A disturbance at the door interrupted him. Duncan Idaho came through the guard there, hurried down the length of the table and bent over the Duke’s ear.

Leto waved him back, said: “Speak out, Duncan. You can see this is strategy staff.” Paul studied Idaho, marking the feline movements, the swiftness of reflex that made him such a difficult weapons teacher to emulate. Idaho’s dark round face turned toward Paul, the cave-sitter eyes giving no hint of recognition, but Paul recognized the mask of serenity over excitement.

Idaho looked down the length of the table, said: “We’ve taken a force of Harkonnen mercenaries disguised as Fremen. The Fremen themselves sent us a courier to warn of the false band. In the attack, however, we found the Harkonnens had waylaid the Fremen courier—badly wounded him. We were bringing him here for treatment by our medics when he died. I’d seen how badly off the man was and stopped to do what I could. I surprised him in the attempt to throw something away.”Idaho glanced down at Leto. “A knife, m’Lord, a knife the like of which you’ve never seen.”

“Crysknife?”someone asked.

“No doubt of it,”Idaho said. “Milky white and glowing with a light of its own like.”He reached into his tunic, brought out a sheath with a black-ridged handle protruding from it.

“Keep that blade in its sheath!” The voice came from the open door at the end of the room, a vibrant and penetrating voice that brought them all up, staring.

A tall, robed figure stood in the door, barred by the crossed swords of the guard. A light tan robe completely enveloped the man except for a gap in the hood and black veil that exposed eyes of total blue—no white in them at all.

“Let him enter,”Idaho whispered.

“Pass that man,”the Duke said.

The guards hesitated, then lowered their swords.

The man swept into the room, stood across from the Duke.

“This is Stilgar, chief of the sietch I visited, leader of those who warned us of the false band,”Idaho said.

“Welcome, sir,”Leto said. “And why shouldn’t we unsheath this blade?” Stilgar glanced at Idaho, said: “You observed the customs of cleanliness and honor among us. I would permit you to see the blade of the man you befriended.”His gaze swept the others in the room. “But I do not know these others. Would you have them defile an honorable weapon?”

“I am the Duke Leto,”the Duke said. “Would you permit me to see this blade?”

“I’ll permit you to earn the right to unsheath it,”Stilgar said, and, as a mutter of protest sounded around the table, he raised a thin, darkly veined hand. “I remind you this is the blade of one who befriended you.” In the waiting silence, Paul studied the man, sensing the aura of power that radiated from him. He was a leader—a Fremen leader.

A man near the center of the table across from Paul muttered: “Who’s he to tell us what rights we have on Arrakis?”

“It is said that the Duke Leto Atreides rules with the consent of the governed,”the Fremen said. “Thus I must tell you the way it is with us: a certain responsibility falls on those who have seen a crysknife.”He passed a dark glance across Idaho. “They are ours. They may never leave Arrakis without our consent.”

Halleck and several of the others started to rise, angry expressions on their faces. Halleck said: “The Duke Leto determines whether—”

“One moment, please,”Leto said, and the very mildness of his voice held them. This must not get out of hand, he thought. He addressed himself to the Fremen: “Sir, I honor and respect the personal dignity of any man who respects my dignity. I am indeed indebted to you. And I always pay my debts. If it is your custom that this knife remain sheathed here, then it is so ordered—by me. And if there is any other way we may honor the man who died in our service, you have but to name it.” The Fremen stared at the Duke, then slowly pulled aside his veil, revealing a thin nose and full-lipped mouth in a glistening black beard. Deliberately he bent over the end of the table, spat on its polished surface.

As the men around the table started to surge to their feet, Idaho’s voice boomed across the room: “Hold!” Into the sudden charged stillness, Idaho said: “We thank you, Stilgar, for the gift of your body’s moisture. We accept it in the spirit with which it is given.” And Idaho spat on the table in front of the Duke.

Aside to the Duke, he said: “Remember how precious water is here, Sire.

That was a token of respect.” Leto sank back into his own chair, caught Paul’s eye, a rueful grin on his son’s face, sensed the slow relaxation of tension around the table as understanding came to his men.

The Fremen looked at Idaho, said: “You measured well in my sietch, Duncan Idaho. Is there a bond on your allegiance to your Duke?”

“He’s asking me to enlist with him, Sire,”Idaho said.

“Would he accept a dual allegiance?”Leto asked.

“You wish me to go with him, Sire?”

“I wish you to make your own decision in the matter,”Leto said, and he could not keep the urgency out of his voice.

Idaho studied the Fremen. “Would you have me under these conditions, Stilgar? There’d be times when I’d have to return to serve my Duke.”

“You fight well and you did your best for our friend,”Stilgar said. He looked at Leto. “Let it be thus: the man Idaho keeps the crysknife he holds as a mark of his allegiance to us. He must be cleansed, of course, and the rites observed, but this can be done. He will be Fremen and soldier of the Atreides. There is precedent for this: Liet serves two masters.”

“Duncan?”Leto asked.

“I understand, Sire,”Idaho said.

“It is agreed, then,”Leto said.

“Your water is ours, Duncan Idaho,”Stilgar said. “The body of our friend remains with your Duke. His water is Atreides water. It is a bond between us.” Leto sighed, glanced at Hawat, catching the old Mentat’s eye. Hawat nodded, his expression pleased.

“I will await below,”Stilgar said, “while Idaho makes farewell with his friends. Turok was the name of our dead friend. Remember that when it comes time to release his spirit. You are friends of Turok.” Stilgar started to turn away.

“Will you not stay a while?”Leto asked.

The Fremen turned back, whipping his veil into place with a casual gesture, adjusting something beneath it. Paul glimpsed what looked like a thin tube before the veil settled into place.

“Is there reason to stay?”the Fremen asked.

“We would honor you,”the Duke said.

“Honor requires that I be elsewhere soon,”the Fremen said. He shot another glance at Idaho, whirled, and strode out past the door guards.

“If the other Fremen match him, we’ll serve each other well,”Leto said.

Idaho spoke in a dry voice: “He’s a fair sample, Sire.”

“You understand what you’re to do, Duncan?”

“I’m your ambassador to the Fremen, Sire.”

“Much depends on you, Duncan. We’re going to need at least five battalions of those people before the Sardaukar descend on us.”

“This is going to take some doing, Sire. The Fremen are a pretty independent bunch.”Idaho hesitated, then: “And, Sire, there’s one other thing. One of the mercenaries we knocked over was trying to get this blade from our dead Fremen friend. The mercenary says there’s a Harkonnen reward of a million solaris for anyone who’ll bring in a single crysknife.” Leto’s chin came up in a movement of obvious surprise. “Why do they want one of those blades so badly?”

“The knife is ground from a sandworm’s tooth; it’s the mark of the Fremen, Sire. With it, a blue-eyed man could penetrate any sietch in the land. They’d question me unless I were known. I don’t look Fremen. But….”

“Piter de Vries,”the Duke said.

“A man of devilish cunning, my Lord,”Hawat said.

Idaho slipped the sheathed knife beneath his tunic.

“Guard that knife,”the Duke said.

“I understand, m’Lord.”He patted the transceiver on his belt kit. “I’ll report soon as possible. Thufir has my call code. Use battle language.”He saluted, spun about, and hurried after the Fremen.

They heard his footsteps drumming down the corridor.

A look of understanding passed between Leto and Hawat. They smiled.

“We’ve much to do, Sire,”Halleck said.

“And I keep you from your work,”Leto said.

“I have the report on the advance bases,”Hawat said. “Shall I give it another time, Sire?”

“Will it take long?”

“Not for a briefing. It’s said among the Fremen that there were more than two hundred of these advance bases built here on Arrakis during the Desert Botanical Testing Station period. All supposedly have been abandoned, but there are reports they were sealed off before being abandoned.”

“Equipment in them?”the Duke asked.

“According to the reports I have from Duncan.”

“Where are they located?”Halleck asked.

“The answer to that question,”Hawat said, “is invariably: ‘Liet knows.’ ”

“God knows,”Leto muttered.

“Perhaps not, Sire,”Hawat said. “You heard this Stilgar use the name. Could he have been referring to a real person?”

“Serving two masters,”Halleck said. “It sounds like a religious quotation.”

“And you should know,”the Duke said.

Halleck smiled.

“This Judge of the Change,”Leto said, “the Imperial ecologist—Kynes….

Wouldn’t he know where those bases are?”

“Sire,”Hawat cautioned, “this Kynes is an Imperial servant.”

“And he’s a long way from the Emperor,”Leto said. “I want those bases.

They’d be loaded with materials we could salvage and use for repair of our working equipment.”

“Sire!”Hawat said. “Those bases are still legally His Majesty’s fief.”

“The weather here’s savage enough to destroy anything,”the Duke said.

“We can always blame the weather. Get this Kynes and at least find out if the bases exist.”

“‘Twere dangerous to commandeer them,”Hawat said. “Duncan was clear on one thing: those bases or the idea of them hold some deep significance for the Fremen. We might alienate the Fremen if we took those bases.” Paul looked at the faces of the men around them, saw the intensity of the way they followed every word. They appeared deeply disturbed by his father’s attitude.

“Listen to him, Father,”Paul said in a low voice. “He speaks truth.”

“Sire,”Hawat said, “those bases could give us material to repair every piece of equipment left us, yet be beyond reach for strategic reasons. It’d be rash to move without greater knowledge. This Kynes has arbiter authority from the Imperium. We mustn’t forget that. And the Fremen defer to him.”

“Do it gently, then,”the Duke said. “I wish to know only if those bases exist.”

“As you will, Sire.”Hawat sat back, lowered his eyes.

“All right, then,”the Duke said. “We know what we have ahead of us— work. We’ve been trained for it. We’ve some experience in it. We know what the rewards are and the alternatives are clear enough. You all have your assignments.”He looked at Halleck. “Gurney, take care of that smuggler situation first.”

“‘I shall go unto the rebellious that dwell in the dry land,’ ”Halleck intoned.

“Someday I’ll catch that man without a quotation and he’ll look undressed,” the Duke said.

Chuckles echoed around the table, but Paul heard the effort in them.

The Duke turned to Hawat. “Set up another command post for intelligence and communications on this floor, Thufir. When you have them ready, I’ll want to see you.” Hawat arose, glancing around the room as though seeking support. He turned away, led the procession out of the room. The others moved hurriedly, scraping their chairs on the floor, balling up in little knots of confusion.

It ended up in confusion, Paul thought, staring at the backs of the last men to leave. Always before, Staff had ended on an incisive air. This meeting had just seemed to trickle out, worn down by its own inadequacies, and with an argument to top it off.

For the first time, Paul allowed himself to think about the real possibility of defeat—not thinking about it out of fear or because of warnings such as that of the old Reverend Mother, but facing up to it because of his own assessment of the situation.

My father is desperate, he thought. Things aren’t going well for us at all.

And Hawat—Paul recalled how the old Mentat had acted during the conference—subtie hesitations, signs of unrest.

Hawat was deeply troubled by something.

“Best you remain here the rest of the night, Son,”the Duke said. “It’ll be dawn soon, anyway. I’ll inform your mother.”He got to his feet, slowly, stiffly.

“Why don’t you pull a few of these chairs together and stretch out on them for some rest.”

“I’m not very tired, sir.”

“As you will.” The Duke folded his hands behind him, began pacing up and down the length of the table.

Like a caged animal, Paul thought.

“Are you going to discuss the traitor possibility with Hawat?”Paul asked.

The Duke stopped across from his son, spoke to the dark windows. “We’ve discussed the possibility many times.”

“The old woman seemed so sure of herself,”Paul said. “And the message Mother—”

“Precautions have been taken,”the Duke said. He looked around the room, and Paul marked the hunted wildness in his father’s eyes. “Remain here. There are some things about the command posts I want to discuss with Thufir.”He turned, strode out of the room, nodding shortly to the door guards.

Paul stared at the place where his father had stood. The space had been empty even before the Duke left the room. And he recalled the old woman’s warning: “… for the father, nothing.”

CHAPTER 6

How do we approach the study of Muad‘Dib’s father? A man of surpassing warmth and surprising coldness was the Duke Leto Atreides. Yet, many facts open the way to this Duke: his abiding love for his Bene Gesserit lady; the dreams he held for his son; the devotion with which men served him. You see him there—aman snared by Destiny, a lonely figure with his light dimmed behind the glory of his son. Still, one must ask: What is the son but an extension of the father?

—from“Muad’Dib, Family Commentaries”by the Princess Irulan

PAUL WATCHED his father enter the training room, saw the guards take up stations outside. One of them closed the door. As always, Paul experienced a sense of presence in his father, someone totally here.

The Duke was tall, olive-skinned. His thin face held harsh angles warmed only by deep gray eyes. He wore a black working uniform with red armorial hawk crest at the breast. A silvered shield belt with the patina of much use girded his narrow waist.

The Duke said: “Hard at work, Son?” He crossed to the ell table, glanced at the papers on it, swept his gaze around the room and back to Paul. He felt tired, filled with the ache of not showing his fatigue. I must use every opportunity to rest during the crossing to Arrakis, he thought. There’ll be no rest on Arrakis.

“Not very hard,”Paul said. “Everything’s so….”He shrugged.

“Yes. Well, tomorrow we leave. It’ll be good to get settled in our new home, put all this upset behind.” Paul nodded, suddenly overcome by memory of the Reverend Mother’s words: “…for the father, nothing.”

“Father,”Paul said, “will Arrakis be as dangerous as everyone says?” The Duke forced himself to the casual gesture, sat down on a corner of the table, smiled. A whole pattern of conversation welled up in his mind—the kind of thing he might use to dispel the vapors in his men before a battle. The pattern froze before it could be vocalized, confronted by the single thought: This is my son.

“It’ll be dangerous,”he admitted.

“Hawat tells me we have a plan for the Fremen,”Paul said. And he wondered: Why don’t I tell him what that old woman said? How did she seal my tongue? The Duke noted his son’s distress, said: “As always, Hawat sees the main chance. But there’s much more. I see also the Combine Honnete Ober Advancer Mercantiles—the CHOAM Company. By giving me Arrakis, His Majesty is forced to give us a CHOAM directorship … a subtle gain.”

“CHOAM controls the spice,”Paul said.

“And Arrakis with its spice is our avenue into CHOAM,”the Duke said.

“There’s more to CHOAM than melange.”

“Did the Reverend Mother warn you?”Paul blurted. He clenched his fists, feeling his palms slippery with perspiration. The effort it had taken to ask that question.

“Hawat tells me she frightened you with warnings about Arrakis,”the Duke said. “Don’t let a woman’s fears cloud your mind. No woman wants her loved ones endangered. The hand behind those warnings was your mother’s. Take this as a sign of her love for us.”

“Does she know about the Fremen?”

“Yes, and about much more.”

“What?” And the Duke thought: The truth could be worse than he imagines, but even dangerous facts arevaluable if you’ve been trained to deal with them. And there’s one place where nothing has been spared for my son—dealingwith dangerous facts. This must be leavened, though; he is young.

“Few products escape the CHOAM touch,”the Duke said. “Logs, donkeys, horses, cows, lumber, dung, sharks, whale fur—the most prosaic and the most exotic … even our poor pundi rice from Caladan. Anything the Guild will transport, the art forms of Ecaz, the machines of Richesse and Ix. But all fades before melange. A handful of spice will buy a home on Tupile. It cannot be manufactured, it must be mined on Arrakis. It is unique and it has true geriatric properties.”

“And now we control it?”

“To a certain degree. But the important thing is to consider all the Houses that depend on CHOAM profits. And think of the enormous proportion of those profits dependent upon a single product—the spice. Imagine what would happen if something should reduce spice production.”

“Whoever had stockpiled melange could make a killing,”Paul said. “Others would be out in the cold.” The Duke permitted himself a moment of grim satisfaction, looking at his son and thinking how penetrating, how truly educated that observation had been.

He nodded. “The Harkonnens have been stockpiling for more than twenty years.”

“They mean spice production to fail and you to be blamed.”

“They wish the Atreides name to become unpopular,”the Duke said. “Think of the Landsraad Houses that look to me for a certain amount of leadership— their unofficial spokesman. Think how they’d react if I were responsible for a serious reduction in their income. After all, one’s own profits come first. The Great Convention be damned! You can’t let someone pauperize you!”A harsh smile twisted the Duke’s mouth. “They’d look the other way no matter what was done to me.”

“Even if we were attacked with atomics?”

“Nothing that flagrant. No open defiance of the Convention. But almost anything else short of that … perhaps even dusting and a bit of soil poisoning.”

“Then why are we walking into this?”

“Paul!”The Duke frowned at his son. “Knowing where the trap is—that’s the first step in evading it. This is like single combat, Son, only on a larger scale —a feint within a feint within a feint … seemingly without end. The task is to unravel it. Knowing that the Harkonnens stockpile melange, we ask another question: Who else is stockpiling? That’s the list of our enemies.”

“Who?”

“Certain Houses we knew were unfriendly and some we’d thought friendly.

We need not consider them for the moment because there is one other much more important: our beloved Padishah Emperor.” Paul tried to swallow in a throat suddenly dry. “Couldn’t you convene the Landsraad, expose—”

“Make our enemy aware we know which hand holds the knife? Ah, now, Paul—we see the knife, now. Who knows where it might be shifted next? If we put this before the Landsraad it’d only create a great cloud of confusion. The Emperor would deny it. Who could gainsay him? All we’d gain is a little time while risking chaos. And where would the next attack come from?”

“All the Houses might start stockpiling spice.”

“Our enemies have a head start—too much of a lead to overcome.”

“The Emperor,”Paul said. “That means the Sardaukar.”

“Disguised in Harkonnen livery, no doubt,”the Duke said. “But the soldier fanatics nonetheless.”

“How can Fremen help us against Sardaukar?”

“Did Hawat talk to you about Salusa Secundus?”

“The Emperor’s prison planet? No.”

“What if it were more than a prison planet, Paul? There’s a question you never hear asked about the Imperial Corps of Sardaukar: Where do they come from?”

“From the prison planet?”

“They come from somewhere.”

“But the supporting levies the Emperor demands from—”

“That’s what we’re led to believe: they’re just the Emperor’s levies trained young and superbly. You hear an occasional muttering about the Emperor’s training cadres, but the balance of our civilization remains the same: the military forces of the Landsraad Great Houses on one side, the Sardaukar and their supporting levies on the other. And their supporting levies, Paul. The Sardaukar remain the Sardaukar.”

“But every report on Salusa Secundus says S.S. is a hell world!”

“Undoubtedly. But if you were going to raise tough, strong, ferocious men, what environmental conditions would you impose on them?”

“How could you win the loyalty of such men?”

“There are proven ways: play on the certain knowledge of their superiority, the mystique of secret covenant, the esprit of shared suffering. It can be done. It has been done on many worlds in many times.” Paul nodded, holding his attention on his father’s face. He felt some revelation impending.

“Consider Arrakis,”the Duke said. “When you get outside the towns and garrison villages, it’s every bit as terrible a place as Salusa Secundus.” Paul’s eyes went wide. “The Fremen!”

“We have there the potential of a corps as strong and deadly as the Sardaukar. It’ll require patience to exploit them secretly and wealth to equip them properly. But the Fremen are there … and the spice wealth is there. You see now why we walk into Arrakis, knowing the trap is there.”

“Don’t the Harkonnens know about the Fremen?”

“The Harkonnens sneered at the Fremen, hunted them for sport, never even bothered trying to count them. We know the Harkonnen policy with planetary populations—spend as little as possible to maintain them.” The metallic threads in the hawk symbol above his father’s breast glistened as the Duke shifted his position. “You see?”

“We’re negotiating with the Fremen right now,”Paul said.

“I sent a mission headed by Duncan Idaho,”the Duke said. “A proud and ruthless man, Duncan, but fond of the truth. I think the Fremen will admire him.

If we’re lucky, they may judge us by him: Duncan, the moral.”

“Duncan, the moral,”Paul said, “and Gurney the valorous.”

“You name them well,”the Duke said.

And Paul thought: Gurney’s one of those the Reverend Mother meant, a supporter of worlds—“… the valor of the brave. ”

“Gurney tells me you did well in weapons today,”the Duke said.

“That isn’t what he told me.” The Duke laughed aloud. “I figured Gurney to be sparse with his praise. He says you have a nicety of awareness—in his own words—of the difference between a blade’s edge and its tip.”

“Gurney says there’s no artistry in killing with the tip, that it should be done with the edge.”

“Gurney’s a romantic,”the Duke growled. This talk of killing suddenly disturbed him, coming from his son. “I’d sooner you never had to kill … but if the need arises, you do it however you can—tip or edge.”He looked up at the skylight, on which the rain was drumming.

Seeing the direction of his father’s stare, Paul thought of the wet skies out there—a thing never to be seen on Arrakis from all accounts—and this thought of skies put him in mind of the space beyond. “Are the Guild ships really big?” he asked.

The Duke looked at him. “This will be your first time off planet,”he said.

“Yes, they’re big. We’ll be riding a Heighliner because it’s a long trip. A Heighliner is truly big. Its hold will tuck all our frigates and transports into a little corner—we’ll be just a small part of the ship’s manifest.”

“And we won’t be able to leave our frigates?”

“That’s part of the price you pay for Guild Security. There could be Harkonnen ships right alongside us and we’d have nothing to fear from them.

The Harkonnens know better than to endanger their shipping privileges.”

“I’m going to watch our screens and try to see a Guildsman.”

“You won’t. Not even their agents ever see a Guildsman. The Guild’s as jealous of its privacy as it is of its monopoly. Don’t do anything to endanger our shipping privileges, Paul.”

“Do you think they hide because they’ve mutated and don’t look … human anymore?”

“Who knows?”The Duke shrugged. “It’s a mystery we’re not likely to solve.

We’ve more immediate problems—among them: you.”

“Me?”

“Your mother wanted me to be the one to tell you, Son. You see, you may have Mentat capabilities.” Paul stared at his father, unable to speak for a moment, then: “A Mentat? Me? But I….”

“Hawat agrees, Son. It’s true.”

“But I thought Mentat training had to start during infancy and the subject couldn’t be told because it might inhibit the early….”He broke off, all his past circumstances coming to focus in one flashing computation. “I see,”he said.

“A day comes,”the Duke said, “when the potential Mentat must learn what’s being done. It may no longer be done to him. The Mentat has to share in the choice of whether to continue or abandon the training. Some can continue; some are incapable of it. Only the potential Mentat can tell this for sure about himself.” Paul rubbed his chin. All the special training from Hawat and his mother— the mnemonics, the focusing of awareness, the muscle control and sharpening of sensitivities, the study of languages and nuances of voices—all of it clicked into a new kind of understanding in his mind.

“You’ll be the Duke someday, Son,”his father said. “A Mentat Duke would be formidable indeed. Can you decide now … or do you need more time?” There was no hesitation in his answer. “I’ll go on with the training.”

“Formidable indeed,”the Duke murmured, and Paul saw the proud smile on his father’s face. The smile shocked Paul: it had a skull look on the Duke’s narrow features. Paul closed his eyes, feeling the terrible purpose reawaken within him. Perhaps being a Mentat is terrible purpose, he thought.

But even as he focused on this thought, his new awareness denied it.

文/布莱恩·赫伯特 凯文·J·安德森

1957年，为了写一篇介绍美国农业部某研究项目的杂志文章，弗兰克·赫伯特租了一架小型飞机，来到俄勒冈州海岸的沙丘。美国农业部开发了一种稳固沙层的方法，在沙丘顶部种植耐贫瘠的植物，以防止沙丘流动并吞没道路和建筑物。他打算给这篇文章定个标题，叫“他们挡住了流沙”。

回到家开始写这篇文章时，他意识到某种比杂志文章更宏大的东西。在飞行过程中，注视着像海上波浪一样的沙丘时，他感到了一种情感的牵引。他坐在打字机前，闭上眼睛，想象出一颗广阔的沙漠星球。他看到了一个像马赫迪一样的沙漠救世主骑着马，带着一支骑着马，带着一支骑着马和骆驼的杂乱军队，如雷霆般在沙漠中驰骋。这位领袖富有魅力，能够在他的人民当中激起狂热的忠诚。

渐渐地，这些画面在弗兰克·赫伯特的脑海中变得更宏达，更广阔，他创造了一整个由外星球组成的宇宙。这颗沙漠星球将是所有星球中最重要的，它盛产一种稀缺资源——名叫“美琅脂”。帝国政府和星际公司都需要这种资源，并为控制这种资源而大打出手。

这样一个故事需要一张非常大的画布。

弗兰克·赫伯特先于所有人看过一部《沙丘》电影——一场在他脑海中上演的史诗般的电影盛事：一场梦幻般的、弥赛亚式的幻象，然后他将其打造成了一部堪称有史以来最受推崇的科幻小说。

弗兰克·赫伯特一生都热爱相机和摄影。他在报纸行业中担任专栏作家，葡萄酒编辑和专业摄影师，通常为西海岸的赫斯特旗下的报纸工作。多年后，在指导他大儿子布莱恩从事写作时，他告诉儿子，他喜欢写描述性的段落，这就像透过相机的镜头，描述他所看到的东西。

作为示例，他讲到他是如何在《沙丘》中介绍邪恶的弗拉基米尔·哈克男爵的：从一间无窗的屋子中的黑影开始，“一只戴着光彩夺目的戒指的胖手”旋转着一颗未知星球的立体星球仪。画面徐徐展开，但并不是视觉上的。首先是声音：“星球仪旁边传出一阵嗤嗤的笑声，笑声中蹦出一个低沉的嗓音……”

弗兰克·赫伯特没有正面描述男爵的外貌，而是让这个卑鄙的人用隆隆的、低沉的、冷酷的声音密谋对付高贵的雷托公爵和厄崔迪家族的计划，这种充满杀意的举止，恐吓和威胁着房间里和其他人——彼得·德伏来和菲德-罗萨·哈克南。男爵动了一下，但还是让人没法看清。相反，他“在星球仪旁的暗影中动了动身子。”

在整个章节中，作者慢慢地向读者透露了越来越多的信息，就像照相机镜头的光圈逐渐打开一样。经过三千字的悬念铺垫，男爵终于被正面描述。“当她从阴影中现身的时候，映入眼帘的是一个极为庞大的身形——不论从质量上还是体积上——和一身肥肉。他穿着黑色长袍，衣服的褶皱下有一些细微的隆起，可以看出他身上装着便携式浮空器，拖着那身肥肉。”

《沙丘》是一个极其生动、复杂，且十分完整的故事，充满了独特的想法和令人难以置信的异国情调。每一个度过这部经典小说的人，都会想象和塑造出他们自己的保罗·穆阿迪布、雷托·厄崔迪公爵、杰西卡夫人、哈克南男爵、野兽拉班、邓肯·艾达荷、哥尼·哈莱克、杜菲·哈瓦特……从而欣赏到属于他们自己的电影。

已有其他电影人将他们对《沙丘》的诠释搬上来银幕——大卫林奇1984年的电影和约翰·哈里森后来的迷你电视剧。在他们之前还有一些导演，其项目进行到了不同的阶段，但是没能将它搬上银幕。所有这些导演都是保罗的前辈，他们资源踏上沙丘星球上的炙热沙地，而这的确是对导演技巧的一次非常大的考验。

布莱恩清楚地记得，在《沙丘》最初的创作阶段，他在赫伯特大家庭里的经历。布莱恩记得自己听到父亲给母亲读了一段话：一个名叫保罗·厄崔迪的年轻人，被迫将受放进神秘的盒子里，而一个老妇人——圣母盖乌斯·海伦·莫西阿姆，用毒针顶着他的脖子。

听着听着，布莱恩被这戏剧性的场景和奇怪的话语缩吸引——戈姆刺、穆阿迪布、帕迪沙皇帝、魁萨茨·哈德拉克、厄拉克斯、贝尼·杰瑟里特。随着这些词语和名字从他父亲的舌头上滚落，以铿锵有力的声音发出，布莱恩沉醉于他门那沙哑、神秘的回响。

布莱恩后来才意识到，他听到的其实是《沙丘》的开头章节。

《沙丘》的故事在出版半个多世纪后仍然受到全世界的喜爱和推崇，而且它海将迎来更多的观众。

对传奇影业来说，导演丹尼斯·维伦纽瓦已经接受了这项兼具挑战——为弗兰克·赫伯特的杰作执导一部广受认可的电影版本。维伦纽瓦之前拍的两部科幻电影试水《降临》（2016）和《银翼杀手2049》（2017）——都是充满了想象色彩的视觉盛宴。现在，通过《沙丘》，他达成了足以确立自己地位的成就，这是一部卓越的电影，即使是最铁杆的弗兰克·赫伯特粉丝也不会失望。

任何改变自《沙丘》的电影，都是在弗兰克·赫伯特的奇幻宇宙所奠定的创意和所秒回的广博基础上进行的。“沙丘”正传系列给维伦纽瓦提供了大量素材，包括弗兰克·赫伯特的第一部小说以及它的五部续集《沙丘救世主》《沙丘之子》《沙丘神帝》《沙丘异端》《圣殿沙丘》——这些小说总共有一百多万字，跨越了五千年历史。除了这几部原著作品，我们还一起创作了许多畅销全球的小说，扩展了“沙丘”的历史和人物，从《沙丘》故事一万年前的巴特勒圣战和贝尼·杰瑟里特学校建立这样社员的故事起源，一直到五千年后的大结局。我们的后传和前传为“沙丘”传奇增加了数百万字，填补了雷托公爵的背景故事，讲述了他与卑鄙的哈克南男爵之初的冲突，以及雷托和杰西卡感人的爱情，保罗的诞生还有伊勒琅公主为了保罗·穆阿迪布的传奇一生编纂编年史所做的大量工作。