The Winds of Dune (54 page)

As if he could read her thoughts, he said, “I understand what you thought you needed to do to me, Mother. You hoped to save as many lives as possible, and that is my hope, as well. There are small deeds you aren’t aware of. The recent massacre at the Lankiveil monastery involved fewer than one hundred and fifty deaths. Secretly, I arranged for forty-seven women and children to escape before the priests came in. Word has also been leaked to the rulers of the eleven target planets, and Guildships are taking away great numbers of people in an unofficial evacuation, though of course I would deny it vehemently.”

Jessica caught her breath, almost sobbed as she asked, “But
why,
why do you want to be hated for all of eternity, and why must you take House Atreides down with you? Why must so many people die in the name of Muad’Dib? How can that be your destiny, or theirs?”

“I have had many visions that guide my course, some after great consumption of melange, others through dreams. I took my name from the desert mouse, the muad’dib, the shape of the shadow on the second moon—and in many visions I have seen the moon, and shadows, growing dark . . . maybe eclipsed.” His voice trailed off, then he shook his head. “But that does not mean that all light is lost from that moon, or that my life has no purpose. Though caught inextricably in my own destiny, I will teach a lesson for all time, showing by example the danger of falling into the myth of the charismatic leader, the mistaken belief that following a heroic figure will always lead humankind to utopia. Such a myth is mass insanity, and must be destroyed. The legacy I leave is that my personal, very
human
, flaws are amplified by the number of people who carry my banner into battle.”

Jessica began to comprehend the immensity of what Paul had in mind. His words were like an unexpected splash of cold water to open her eyes. He had done so many reprehensible things that she’d begun to believe that he had tumbled headlong down a slippery slope of his own justifications. She had begun to believe the worst of him, and using that chink in her armor, both Mother Superior Harishka and Reverend Mother Mohiam had tried to manipulate Jessica into murdering her own son.

With great sorrow, Paul said, “The things I have to do are my terrible purpose, revealed to me in my visions—the nightmarish path I must follow through darkness that seems never-ending, but which must ultimately emerge into light.” His face was a grim mask that she would never forget. He looked so much older than his twenty-four years.

She felt a strange sense of calm. Paul had opened her eyes with his confessions, his immense personal sacrifice. Despite her fears, she realized that he really did know what he was doing after all, that his plans encompassed a much vaster canvas than any single tragedy, that he was not an abomination who needed to be slain just to stop a current crisis. Great numbers of people were being evacuated from targeted planets, but his part in saving their lives had to remain a secret. He was sacrificing himself, and the lives that were lost were the smallest price he could find.

She was appalled by how close she had come to killing him. How little she had understood!

Bronso broke the silence. “For a long time I considered myself Paul’s enemy, and it took me a long time to find room for forgiveness. But I realized, eventually, that my father’s death was not Paul’s fault. The greatest blow was when my father’s last words were about Paul . . . and only Paul.” The Ixian nobleman drew a deep breath. “But then I realized something else. My father had made me swear to watch out for Paul, to protect him from dangers. By asking with his dying breath whether Paul was safe, he was asking
me
whether I had fulfilled my responsibility.”

The young man raised his chin, and his eyes sparkled with a proud nobility. “Now I understand much more. And this gives me my own strong purpose—a purpose I have avoided for my entire adult life.”

Bronso gestured to the shielded wall of the chamber. “The Technocrat Council runs Ix. Although I’m a Landsraad representative and still
the titular ruler of the planet, my authority here is empty. The technocrats already regard me as irrelevant, and soon they’ll conclude that I am an annoyance. Vermillion Hells, with all the dangers here, it may be safer if I hide out in the space lanes and spread dangerous tracts about Muad’Dib!” He smiled gamely at Paul, then at Jessica. “I’m ready for this task.”

“It is my destiny to love you, Paul, no matter what,” Jessica said. Paul turned to her with a plea on his face, and Jessica saw
her son
again, the bright, sensitive person she thought she had lost. She had conceived him in love and had given birth to him, and now she could do nothing to remove herself from the powerful historical current that carried House Atreides into the future.

Jessica could only nod when he said, “I want you to help Bronso, in secret, however you can. Help him to destroy me.”

Each life is filled with secrets.

—
AMAN WUTIN
, adviser to Korba the Panegyrist

E
verything in her life had changed—and changed again—but when Jessica returned home, Caladan was as beautiful as always . . . pristine, serene, and safe. When she stepped onto the Cala City landing field, she smelled the ozone-freshness of an ocean breeze. She drank in the vibrant late afternoon colors, the marshy pundi-rice fields, the tall coastal pine forests, the broad seas, the soaring inland mountains.
Home
.
Peace
.

Since the meeting on Ix, her impression of Paul had fundamentally changed. Jessica knew that he did have the clarity of vision he claimed, and that he was fully aware of the dangers of his own legend and the religion that had sprung up around him. Only she and Paul would ever know what Bronso Vernius was truly doing, and why. She couldn’t even tell Gurney Halleck the truth.

Jessica knew as well that her own destiny was aligned with her son’s, and that she could not extricate herself from it any more than he could. . . .

A contingent of guards met her at the edge of the spaceport grounds. For years, with the predictability of the daily sunrise, Gurney’s expression had lit up whenever he saw her. But not now.

“You are returning home to a dire crisis, my Lady, and I fear it is
only the beginning.” He refused to say more until the two of them had climbed into the sealed groundcar. The offworld soldier guards took adjacent vehicles, making Jessica feel very uncomfortable. She had never seen so much security on Caladan.

During the ride to the Castle, Gurney described the surprisingly violent demonstrations, the increasing fervor for independence, the anger of Caladanians in response to how they perceived Muad’Dib had treated them.

“My solution may have made things worse.” The rough-looking man shook his head. “We cracked down and stopped most of the demonstrators, and reopened the spaceport. But this morning, a few overly ambitious locals took four Qizara Tafwids hostage and are holding them until the Imperial government rescinds the change of Caladan’s name.” His hands knotted into fists. “I had hoped we could hold off any retaliation from Muad’Dib’s government by claiming the problem was solved . . . but now what can we say to them? I am shamed to have failed you so, my Lady.”

After what Mohiam had revealed to her on Wallach IX, Jessica understood that Bene Gesserit operatives had been manipulating the crowds all along, pushing them toward rebellion in hopes of triggering a cascade of planetary revolts.

“It’s not entirely their fault, Gurney. The Sisterhood is trying to force Paul to overreact. They intend for Caladan’s mostly innocent resistance to be the flashpoint for a chain of uprisings. The Bene Gesserits are playing a game of provocation, with the people here as their pawns.”

“Unless I cut out the roots of this rebellion before it can blossom further,” Gurney said.

“We, Gurney.
We
must cut out the roots of this rebellion.”

His wide mouth formed a wolfish, almost involuntary, grin. “At your service, my Lady. . . .”

On Ix, after hearing Paul’s shocking revelation, she had taken time to tell him of Mayor Horvu’s plan to declare Caladan’s independence. His demeanor had darkened. “Even if the Bene Gesserits are the instigators here, doesn’t Horvu know what he’ll force me to do? Such an act of defiance will incite a terrible retaliation that I won’t be able to control! My followers are already incensed that you have turned away so
many pilgrims. After hearing this, they will feel obligated to purify my original homeworld.”

She had felt her own resolve harden as her breathing quickened. “Then before you act, Paul, give me a chance to mitigate the situation. If there’s a price to be paid, I’ll find a way to pay it, the smallest price possible—for Caladan. Let me do my job to protect the people.”

Reluctantly, he had assented, but Jessica knew she would have only one chance, that Paul would not be able to maintain his role and stall his fanatics in the face of repeated provocation. Now the future of Caladan was in her hands, so many lives depending on her—if she could only make the difficult but necessary decisions. She needed to find the smallest possible price to pay. . . .

Now, beside her in the vehicle, Gurney carried a great weight on his shoulders. “I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, my Lady. I could not imagine that Duke Leto would imprison anyone who chose to speak out—especially since I myself am offended by the Qizarate’s decree. Changing the name of Caladan?” He shook his head. “Ever since I released the dissidents from their holding cells, they have professed to be peaceful. You will see a crowd at your Castle . . . not much yet, but it increases in size every day. I fear it will get out of hand again, and soon.”

“If it does, Muad’Dib’s troops will come.” Jessica’s lips formed a grim line. “Leto was only the Duke of a single planet, and therefore could focus on the problems of his people. Paul is caught in an entirely different sort of whirlwind encompassing thousands of planets. It is the difference between a dust devil and a Coriolis storm.”

When they reached Castle Caladan, Jessica saw the throngs, more numerous than even the hordes of zealous pilgrims during their unchecked days here. Gurney said, “Perhaps there’s one last chance for sanity. They do revere you as their Duchess, my Lady. They expect you to stand with them and solve their problems.”

Jessica looked out the windows of the groundcar. “I know. They must accept
some
responsibility for problems they created, however. We can’t entirely blame the Bene Gesserit.” The offworld security troops cleared a way for them to move ahead, and the crowd’s shouting grew louder. “And they have to realize that theirs are not the only problems to solve.”

“It will only grow worse, my Lady. The moment I lifted the restrictions on him and reopened the spaceport, Mayor Horvu drained half of the town’s treasury to dispatch couriers to dozens of major planets to declare our independence. I stopped some of the couriers, and I have blocked dissidents from sending more messages offworld, but I’m afraid it’s too late. Now, everyone will wait to see how Muad’Dib reacts to the situation.”

“We can’t wait, Gurney.” Her voice was sharp. “Ultimately the solution to this crisis should lie in how
I
react to it, because
I
rule Caladan. I do not say that to diminish you in any way, because I
do
need your help, but there are certain responsibilities a ruler must bear alone.”

As the vehicle passed through the crowd, she saw a large black balloon flying over the throng. White words printed on the surface read,
PAUL-MUAD’DIB IS NO LONGER AN ATREIDES
.

Seeing this, Jessica raised her voice to the driver. “Stop the vehicle. Here. Now.”

“Here, my Lady? But it is unsafe.”

After taking one look at Jessica, Gurney snapped, “Do as the Duchess says.”

The crowd fell into a startled silence when she stepped out and faced them. She raised her voice as they began to cheer happily. The people were glad to see her, sure that she was the savior they needed.

“I have just now returned from my travels, and I am disappointed to see this unruliness! Is this how we solve our difficulties on Caladan? No! Hear me now—I want the hostage priests released unharmed.
Immediately
. Only after you have done so, can we discuss your complaints. Provided you do as I ask, this evening I shall invite the ten people you consider most important in this—” She searched for the right word. “—this
crusade
to meet with me in private. I only wish to see those who are truly
involved
in this matter, so that I may offer them my solution to your grievances. Until then, all of you please disperse, and let me deal with your concerns in a proper fashion.”