"I recognize your grandmother's wisdom in these words," Farad'n said.
"Well and good, cousin. She asked me if I were Abomination. I answered in the negative. That was my first treachery. You see, Ghanima escaped this, but I did not. I was forced to balance the inner lives under the pressure of excessive melange. I had to seek the active cooperation of those aroused lives within me. Doing this, I avoided the most malignant and chose a dominant helper thrust upon me by the inner awareness which was my father. I am not, in truth, my father or this helper. Then again, I am not the Second Leto."
"Explain."
"You have an admirable directness," Leto said. "I'm a community dominated by one who was ancient and surpassingly powerful. He fathered a dynasty which endured for three thousand of our years. His name was Harum and, until his line trailed out in the congenital weaknesses and superstitions of a descendant, his subjects lived in a rhythmic sublimity. They moved unconsciously with the changes of the seasons. They bred individuals who tended to be short-lived, superstitious, and easily led by a god-king. Taken as a whole, they were a powerful people. Their survival as a species became habit."
"I don't like the sound of that," Farad'n said.
"Nor do I, really," Leto said. "But it's the universe I'll create."
"Why?"
"It's a lesson I learned on Dune. We kept the presence of death a dominant specter among the living here. By that presence, the dead changed the living. The people of such a society sink down into their bellies. But when the time comes for the opposite, when they arise, they are great and beautiful."
"That doesn't answer my question," Farad'n protested.
"You don't trust me, cousin."
"Nor does your own grandmother."
"And with good reason," Leto said. "But she acquiesces because she must. Bene Gesserits are pragmatists in the end. I share their view of our universe, you know. You wear the marks of that universe. You retain the habits of rule, cataloging all around you in terms of their possible threat or value."
"I agreed to be your scribe."
"It amused you and flattered your real talent, which is that of historian.
You've a definite genius for reading the present in terms of the past. You've anticipated me on several occasions."
"I don't like your veiled insinuations," Farad'n said.
"Good. You come from infinite ambition to your present lowered estate.
Didn't my grandmother warn you about infinity? It attracts us like a flood-light in the night, blinding us to the excesses it can inflict upon the finite."
"Bene Gesserit aphorisms!" Farad'n protested.
"But much more precise," Leto said. "The Bene Gesserit believed they could predict the course of evolution. But they overlooked their own changes in the course of that evolution. They assumed they would stand still while their breeding plan evolved. I have no such reflexive blindness. Look carefully at me, Farad'n, for I am no longer human."
"So your sister assures me." Farad'n hesitated. Then: "Abomination?"
"By the Sisterhood's definition, perhaps. Harum is cruel and autocratic. I partake of his cruelty. Mark me well: I have the cruelty of the husbandman, and this human universe is my farm. Fremen once kept tame eagles as pets, but I'll keep a tame Farad'n."
Farad'n's face darkened. "Beware my claws, cousin. I well know my Sardaukar would fall in time before your Fremen. But we'd wound you sorely, and there are jackals waiting to pick off the weak."
"I will use you well, that I promise," Leto said. He leaned forward. "Did I not say I'm no longer human? Believe me, cousin. No children will spring from my loins, for I no longer have loins. And this forces my second treachery. "
Farad'n waited in silence, seeing at last the direction of Leto's argument.
"I shall go against every Fremen precept," Leto said. "They will accept because they can do nothing else. I kept you here under the lure of a betrothal, but there will be no betrothal of you and Ghanima. My sister will marry me!"
"But you--"
"Marry, I said. Ghanima must continue the Atreides line. There's also the matter of the Bene Gesserit breeding program, which is now my breeding program."
"I refuse," Farad'n said.
"You refuse to father an Atreides dynasty?"
"What dynasty? You'll occupy the throne for thousands of years."
"And mold your descendants in my image. It will be the most intensive, the most inclusive training program in all of history. We'll be an ecosystem in miniature. You see, whatever system animals choose to survive by must be based on the pattern of interlocking communities, interdependence, working together in the common design which is the system. And this system will produce the most knowledgeable rulers ever seen."
"You put fancy words on a most distasteful--"
"Who will survive Kralizec?" Leto asked. "I promise you, Kralizec will come."
"You're a madman! You will shatter the Empire."
"Of course I will ... and I'm not a man. But I'll create a new consciousness in all men. I tell you that below the desert of Dune there's a secret place with the greatest treasure of all time. I do not lie. When the last worm dies and the last melange is harvested upon our sands, these deep treasures will spring up throughout our universe. As the power of the spice monopoly fades and the hidden stockpiles make their mark, new powers will appear throughout our realm. It is time humans learned once more to live in their instincts."
Ghanima took her arm from the back of the throne, crossed to Farad'n's side, took his hand.
"As my mother was not wife, you will not be husband," Leto said. "But perhaps there will be love, and that will be enough."
"Each day, each moment brings its change," Ghanima said. "One learns by recognizing the moments."
Farad'n felt the warmth of Ghanima's tiny hand as an insistent presence. He recognized the ebb and flow of Leto's arguments, but not once had Voice been used. It was an appeal to the guts, not to the mind.
"Is this what you offer for my Sardaukar?" he asked.
"Much, much more, cousin. I offer your descendants the Imperium. I offer you peace."
"What will be the outcome of your peace?"
"Its opposite," Leto said, his voice calmly mocking.
Farad'n shook his head. "I find the price for my Sardaukar very high. Must I remain Scribe, the secret father of your royal line?"
"You must."
"Will you try to force me into your habit of peace?"
"I will."
"I'll resist you every day of my life."
"But that's the function I expect of you, cousin. It's why I chose you. I'll make it official. I will give you a new name. From this moment, you'll be called Breaking of the Habit, which in our tongue is Harq al-Ada. Come, cousin, don't be obtuse. My mother taught you well. Give me your Sardaukar."
"Give them," Ghanima echoed. "He'll have them one way or another."
Farad'n heard fear for himself in her voice. Love, then? Leto asked not for reason, but for an intuitive leap. "Take them," Farad'n said.
"Indeed," Leto said. He lifted himself from the throne, a curiously fluid motion as though he kept his terrible powers under most delicate control. Leto stepped down then to Ghanima's level, moved her gently until she faced away from him, turned and placed his back against hers. "Note this, cousin Harq al-Ada. This is the way it will always be with us. We'll stand thus when we are married. Back to back, each looking outward from the other to protect the one thing which we have always been." He turned, looked mockingly at Farad'n, lowered his voice: "Remember that, cousin, when you're face to face with my Ghanima. Remember that when you whisper of love and soft things, when you are most tempted by the habits of my peace and my contentment. Your back will remain exposed."
Turning from them, he strode down the steps into the waiting courtiers, picked them up in his wake like satellites, and left the hall.
Ghanima once more took Farad'n's hand, but her gaze looked beyond the far end of the hall long after Let
o had left it. "One of us had to accept the agony," she said, "and he was always the stronger."
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