CHAPTER 10

What had the Lady Jessica to sustain her in her time of trial? Think you carefully on this Bene Gesserit proverb and perhaps you will see: “Any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere. Climb the mountain just a little bit to test that it’s a mountain. From the top of the mountain, you can not see the mountain.”

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

AT THE end of the south wing, Jessica found a metal stair spiraling up to an oval door. She glanced back down the hall, again up at the door.

Oval? she wondered. What an odd shape for a door in a house.

Through the windows beneath the spiral stair she could see the great white sun of Arrakis moving on toward evening. Long shadows stabbed down the hall.

She returned her attention to the stairs. Harsh sidelighting picked out bits of dried earth on the open metalwork of the steps.

Jessica put a hand on the rail, began to climb. The rail felt cold under her sliding palm. She stopped at the door, saw it had no handle, but there was a faint depression on the surface of it where a handle should have been.

Surely not a palm lock, she told herself. A palm lock must be keyed to one individual’s hand shape and palm lines. But it looked like a palm lock. And there were ways to open any palm lock—as she had learned at school.

Jessica glanced back to make certain she was unobserved, placed her palm against the depression in the door. The most gentle of pressures to distort the lines—a turn of the wrist, another turn, a sliding twist of the palm across the surface.

She felt the click.

But there were hurrying footsteps in the hall beneath her. Jessica lifted her hand from the door, turned, saw Mapes come to the foot of the stairs.

“There are men in the great hall say they’ve been sent by the Duke to get young master Paul,”Mapes said. “They’ve the ducal signet and the guard has identified them.”She glanced at the door, back to Jessica.

A cautious one, this Mapes, Jessica thought. That’s a good sign.

“He’s in the fifth room from this end of the hall, the small bedroom,”Jessica said. “If you have trouble waking him, call on Dr. Yueh in the next room. Paul may require a wakeshot.” Again, Mapes cast a piercing stare at the oval door, and Jessica thought she detected loathing in the expression. Before Jessica could ask about the door and what it concealed, Mapes had turned away, hurrying back down the hall.

Hawat certified this place, Jessica thought. There can’t be anything too terrible in here.

She pushed the door. It swung inward onto a small room with another oval door opposite. The other door had a wheel handle.

An air lock! Jessica thought. She glanced down, saw a door prop fallen to the floor of the little room. The prop carried Hawat’s personal mark. The door was left propped open, she thought. Someone probably knocked the prop down accidentally, not realizing the outer door would close on a palm lock.

She stepped over the lip into the little room.

Why an airlock in a house? she asked herself. And she thought suddenly of exotic creatures sealed off in special climates.

Special climate! That would make sense on Arrakis where even the driest of off-planet growing things had to be irrigated.

The door behind her began swinging closed. She caught it and propped it open securely with the stick Hawat had left. Again, she faced the wheel-locked inner door, seeing now a faint inscription etched in the metal above the handle.

She recognized Galach words, read: “O, Man! Here is a lovely portion of God’s Creation; then, stand before it and learn to love the perfection of Thy Supreme Friend.” Jessica put her weight on the wheel. It turned left and the inner door opened.

A gentle draft feathered her cheek, stirred her hair. She felt change in the air, a richer taste. She swung the door wide, looked through into massed greenery with yellow sunlight pouring across it.

A yellow sun? she asked herself. Then: Filter glass! She stepped over the sill and the door swung closed behind.

“A wet-planet conservatory,”she breathed.

Potted plants and low-pruned trees stood all about. She recognized a mimosa, a flowering quince, a sondagi, green-blossomed pleniscenta, green and white striped akarso … roses….

Even roses! She bent to breathe the fragrance of a giant pink blossom, straightened to peer around the room.

Rhythmic noise invaded her senses.

She parted a jungle overlapping of leaves, looked through to the center of the room. A low fountain stood there, small with fluted lips. The rhythmic noise was a peeling, spooling arc of water falling thud-a-gallop onto the metal bowl.

Jessica sent herself through the quick sense-clearing regimen, began a methodical inspection of the room’s perimeter. It appeared to be about ten meters square. From its placement above the end of the hall and from subtle differences in construction, she guessed it had been added onto the roof of this wing iong after the original building’s completion.

She stopped at the south limits of the room in front of the wide reach of filter glass, stared around. Every available space in the room was crowded with exotic wet-climate plants. Something rustled in the greenery. She tensed, then glimpsed a simple clock-set servok with pipe and hose arms. An arm lifted, sent out a fine spray of dampness that misted her cheeks. The arm retracted and she looked at what it had watered: a fern tree.

Water everywhere in this room—on a planet where water was the most precious juice of life. Water being wasted so conspicuously that it shocked her to inner stillness.

She glanced out at the filter-yellowed sun. It hung low on a jagged horizon above cliffs that formed part of the immense rock uplifting known as the Shield Wall.

Filter glass, she thought. To turn a white sun into something softer and more familiar. Who could have built such a place? Leto? It would be like him to surprise me with such a gift, but there hasn’t been time. And he’s been busy with more serious problems.

She recalled the report that many Arrakeen houses were sealed by airlock doors and windows to conserve and reclaim interior moisture. Leto had said it was a deliberate statement of power and wealth for this house to ignore such precautions, its doors and windows being sealed only against the omnipresent dust.

But this room embodied a statement far more significant than the lack of waterseals on outer doors. She estimated that this pleasure room used water enough to support a thousand persons on Arrakis—possibly more.

Jessica moved along the window, continuing to stare into the room. The move brought into view a metallic surface at table height beside the fountain and she glimpsed a white notepad and stylus there partly concealed by an overhanging fan leaf. She crossed to the table, noted Hawat’s daysigns on it, studied a message written on the pad: “TO THE LADY JESSICA— May this place give you as much pleasure as it has given me. Please permit the room to convey a lesson we learned from the same teachers: the proximity of a desirable thing tempts one to overindulgence. On that path lies danger.

My kindest wishes, MARGOT LADY FENRING” Jessica nodded, remembering that Leto had referred to the Emperor’s former proxy here as Count Fenring. But the hidden message of the note demanded immediate attention, couched as it was in a way to inform her the writer was another Bene Gesserit. A bitter thought touched Jessica in passing: The Count married his Lady.

Even as this thought flicked through her mind, she was bending to seek out the hidden message. It had to be there. The visible note contained the code phrase every Bene Gesserit not bound by a School Injunction was required to give another Bene Gesserit when conditions demanded it: “On that path lies danger.” Jessica felt the back of the note, rubbed the surface for coded dots. Nothing.

The edge of the pad came under her seeking fingers. Nothing. She replaced the pad where she had found it, feeling a sense of urgency.

Something in the position of the pad? she wondered.

But Hawat had been over this room, doubtless had moved the pad. She looked at the leaf above the pad. The leaf! She brushed a finger along the under surface, along the edge, along the stem. It was there! Her fingers detected the subtle coded dots, scanned them in a single passage: “Your son and the Duke are in immediate danger. A bedroom has been designed to attract your son. The H loaded it with death traps to be discovered, leaving one that may escape detection.”Jessica put down the urge to run back to Paul; the full message had to be learned. Her fingers sped over the dots: “I do not know the exact nature of the menace, but it has something to do with a bed.

The threat to your Duke involves defection of a trusted companion or lieutenant.

The H plan to give you as gift to a minion. To the best of my knowledge, this conservatory is safe. Forgive that I cannot tell more. My sources are few as my Count is not in the pay of the H. In haste, MF.” Jessica thrust the leaf aside, whirled to dash back to Paul. In that instant, the airlock door slammed open. Paul jumped through it, holding something in his right hand, slammed the door behind him. He saw his mother, pushed through the leaves to her, glanced at the fountain, thrust his hand and the thing it clutched under the falling water.

“Paul!”She grabbed his shoulder, staring at the hand. “What is that?” He spoke casually, but she caught the effort behind the tone: “Hunter-seeker.

Caught it in my room and smashed its nose, but I want to be sure. Water should short it out.”

“Immerse it!”she commanded.

He obeyed.

Presently, she said: “Withdraw your hand. Leave the thing in the water.” He brought out his hand, shook water from it, staring at the quiescent metal in the fountain. Jessica broke off a plant stem, prodded the deadly sliver.

It was dead.

She dropped the stem into the water, looked at Paul. His eyes studied the room with a searching intensity that she recognized—the B.G. Way.

“This place could conceal anything,”he said.

“I’ve reason to believe it’s safe,”she said.

“My room was supposed to be safe, too. Hawat said—”

“It was a hunter-seeker,”she reminded him. “That means someone inside the house to operate it. Seeker control beams have a limited range. The thing could’ve been spirited in here after Hawat’s investigation.” But she thought of the message of the leaf: “… defection of a trusted companion or lieutenant. ”Not Hawat, surely. Oh, surely not Hawat.

“Hawat’s men are searching the house right now,”he said. “That seeker almost got the old woman who came to wake me.”

“The Shadout Mapes,”Jessica said, remembering the encounter at the stairs.

“A summons from your father to—”

“That can wait,”P(pán)aul said. “Why do you think this room’s safe?” She pointed to the note, explained about it.

He relaxed slightly.

But Jessica remained inwardly tense, thinking: A hunter-seeker! Merciful Mother! It took all her training to prevent a fit of hysterical trembling.

Paul spoke matter of factly: “It’s the Harkonnens, of course. We shall have to destroy them.” A rapping sounded at the airlock door—the code knock of one of Hawat’s corps.

“Come in,”P(pán)aul called.

The door swung wide and a tall man in Atreides uniform with a Hawat insignia on his cap leaned into the room. “There you are, sir,”he said. “The housekeeper said you’d be here.”He glanced around the room. “We found a cairn in the cellar and caught a man in it. He had a seeker console.” “I’ll want to take part in the interrogation,”Jessica said.

“Sorry, my Lady. We messed him up catching him. He died.”

“Nothing to identify him?”she asked.

“We’ve found nothing yet, my Lady.”

“Was he an Arrakeen native?”P(pán)aul asked.

Jessica nodded at the astuteness of the question.

“He has the native look,”the man said. “Put into that cairn more’n a month ago, by the look, and left there to await our coming. Stone and mortar where he came through into the cellar were untouched when we inspected the place yesterday. I’ll stake my reputation on it.”

“No one questions your thoroughness,”Jessica said.

“I question it, my Lady. We should’ve used sonic probes down there.”

“I presume that’s what you’re doing now,”P(pán)aul said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Send word to my father that we’ll be delayed.”

“At once, sir.”He glanced at Jessica. “It’s Hawat’s order that under such circumstances as these the young master be guarded in a safe place.”Again, his eyes swept the room. “What of this place?”

“I’ve reason to believe it safe,”she said. “Both Hawat and I have inspected it.”

“Then I’ll mount guard outside here, m’Lady, until we’ve been over the house once more.”He bowed, touched his cap to Paul, backed out and swung the door closed behind him.

Paul broke the sudden silence, saying: “Had we better go over the house later ourselves? Your eyes might see things others would miss.”

“This wing was the only place I hadn’t examined,”she said. “I put if off to last because….”

“Because Hawat gave it his personal attention,”he said.

She darted a quick look at his face, questioning.

“Do you distrust Hawat?”she asked.

“No, but he’s getting old … he’s overworked. We could take some of the load from him.”

“That’d only shame him and impair his efficiency,”she said. “A stray insect won’t be able to wander into this wing after he hears about this. He’ll be shamed that….”

“We must take our own measures,”he said.

“Hawat has served three generations of Atreides with honor,”she said. “He deserves every respect and trust we can pay him … many times over.” Paul said: “When my father is bothered by something you’ve done he says ‘Bene Gesserit!’ like a swear word.”

“And what is it about me that bothers your father?”

“When you argue with him.”

“You are not your father, Paul.” And Paul thought: It’ll worry her, but I must tell her what that Mapes woman said about a traitor among us.

“What’re you holding back?”Jessica asked. “This isn’t like you, Paul.” He shrugged, recounted the exchange with Mapes.

And Jessica thought of the message of the leaf. She came to sudden decision, showed Paul the leaf, told him its message.

“My father must learn of this at once,”he said. “I’ll radiograph it in code and get if off.”

“No,”she said. “You will wait until you can see him alone. As few as possible must learn about it.”

“Do you mean we should trust no one?”

“There’s another possibility,”she said. “This message may have been meant to get to us. The people who gave it to us may believe it’s true, but it may be that the only purpose was to get this message to us.” Paul’s face remained sturdily somber. “To sow distrust and suspicion in our ranks, to weaken us that way,”he said.

“You must tell your father privately and caution him about this aspect of it,” she said.

“I understand.” She turned to the tall reach of filter glass, stared out to the southwest where the sun of Arrakis was sinking—a yellowed ball above the cliffs.

Paul turned with her, said: “I don’t think it’s Hawat, either. Is it possible it’s Yueh?”

“He’s not a lieutenant or companion,”she said. “And I can assure you he hates the Harkonnens as bitterly as we do.” Paul directed his attention to the cliffs, thinking: And it couldn’t be Gurney… or Duncan. Could it be one of the sub-lieutenants? Impossible. They’re all from families that’ve been loyal to us for generations—for good reason.

Jessica rubbed her forehead, sensing her own fatigue. So much peril here! She looked out at the filter-yellowed landscape, studying it. Beyond the ducal grounds stretched a high-fenced storage yard—lines of spice silos in it with stiltlegged watchtowers standing around it like so many startled spiders. She could see at least twenty storage yards of silos reaching out to the cliffs of the Shield Wall—silos repeated, stuttering across the basin.

Slowly, the filtered sun buried itself beneath the horizon. Stars leaped out.

She saw one bright star so low on the horizon that it twinkled with a clear, precise rhythm—a trembling of light: blink-blink-blink-blink-blink … Paul stirred beside her in the dusky room.

But Jessica concentrated on that single bright star, realizing that it was too low, that it must come from the Shield Wall cliffs.

Someone signalling! She tried to read the message, but it was in no code she had ever learned.

Other lights had come on down on the plain beneath the cliffs: little yellows spaced out against blue darkness. And one light off to their left grew brighter, began to wink back at the cliff—very fast: blinksquirt, glimmer, blink! And it was gone.

The false star in the cliff winked out immediately.

Signals … and they filled her with premonition.

Why were lights used to signal across the basin? she asked herself. Why couldn’t they use the communications network? The answer was obvious: the communinet was certain to be tapped now by agents of the Duke Leto. Light signals could only mean that messages were being sent between his enemies—between Harkonnen agents.

There came a tapping at the door behind them and the voice of Hawat’s man: “All clear, sir .

m‘Lady. Time to be getting the young master to his father.”

文/丹尼斯·維倫紐瓦

沙漠能在人心中激發(fā)出一種深沉的孤獨(dú)感。它能喚起吳可兒逃避的自省。像顯微鏡一樣，沙漠能放大我們的生存恐懼。我們從一切社會(huì)結(jié)構(gòu)中剝離出來(lái)，被赤裸裸地扔在那里，迎頭撞上無(wú)限的空間和時(shí)間所帶來(lái)的眩暈。沙漠如同催眠一般，將我們帶回人類(lèi)資深存在的先決條件。它引發(fā)出快樂(lè)、謙遜、由于，有時(shí)甚至是一種荒涼的恐怖。正是這種與世隔絕的感覺(jué)點(diǎn)燃了《沙丘》制作設(shè)計(jì)靈感。

我立即想到，藝術(shù)指導(dǎo)帕特里斯·弗米特將是執(zhí)行這項(xiàng)任務(wù)的完美人選。他對(duì)探索新的創(chuàng)造性領(lǐng)域的巨大熱情，使他成為理所當(dāng)然的選擇。我需要他狂野的想象力和狂熱的激情，但也需要他絕佳的感知力。我相信，帕特里斯會(huì)理解我的目標(biāo)是什么。我還知道，他在藝術(shù)上足夠瘋狂，他能找到一種方法，觸碰到這場(chǎng)海市蜃樓的邊緣。

1965年創(chuàng)作《沙丘》時(shí)，弗拉克·赫伯特正在遙遠(yuǎn)未來(lái)的未知風(fēng)暴中。幾十年后，帕特里斯不得不重走此路，從而用視覺(jué)形象呈現(xiàn)出作者在小說(shuō)中想象出的一切。我知道帕特里斯將幫助我創(chuàng)造我們從未見(jiàn)過(guò)的世界，并將我們?cè)陂喿x這部著作時(shí)腦海中所呈現(xiàn)出的畫(huà)面帶到大銀幕上。

對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)，重要的是沙丘迷們認(rèn)可這是弗蘭克·赫伯特對(duì)這個(gè)宇宙的描繪，或者至少，讓他們感受到電影與這本書(shū)的精神有著深刻聯(lián)系。我們?cè)噲D盡可能地忠實(shí)于它，但有時(shí)候，由于對(duì)原著純粹的熱愛(ài)，我們也可能逸出小說(shuō)的邊界。將一個(gè)故事搬上大銀幕需要改變其形態(tài)。這是一種必要之舉。為了忠實(shí)地改編他人作品的詩(shī)意和精髓，你有時(shí)需要在某些方面背離它，然后，心平氣和地接受了這一決定，從而創(chuàng)造性地走出困境。一旦開(kāi)始穿越沙漠，你就不能停下。你必須向前走。

設(shè)計(jì)和拍攝這部電影過(guò)程中，我一直津貼弗蘭克·赫伯特的文字。如果沒(méi)有他的文字，我將永遠(yuǎn)無(wú)法找到自己的路，去穿越這些焦灼的幻象。

請(qǐng)欣賞帕特里斯和所有與我們合作的藝術(shù)家的作品。

大家好，我是甜茶，

之前經(jīng)歷了美軍入侵（拉燈二代反攻美帝國(guó)本土的故事上），我們少數(shù)民族蟄伏了很長(zhǎng)時(shí)間，終于等到了美帝大統(tǒng)領(lǐng)視察伊拉克……

經(jīng)過(guò)我們少數(shù)民族老一輩的生活經(jīng)驗(yàn)，還有我們科學(xué)的測(cè)算，最終在美帝聯(lián)合軍隊(duì)到達(dá)的時(shí)候，

就是我們的超級(jí)沙塵暴氣象武器出場(chǎng)的時(shí)候，

好了，可以上核彈了，什么，沒(méi)有nuclear weapon？？？

快去聯(lián)系我老家那邊，打這份電報(bào)（紙老虎！紙老虎！紙老虎！），放心，那邊的人絕對(duì)懂我們的意思……

幾封DF快遞收貨，打完收工……

既然美帝大統(tǒng)領(lǐng)落到我的手里面了，

美帝皇位歸我了，

大統(tǒng)領(lǐng)你閨女也歸我了，

從此就是我們伊拉克反攻美國(guó)，把綠旗插遍整個(gè)美帝本土的故事了……

YO！今年我最期待的電影之一《沙丘2》...的預(yù)告！終于來(lái)了！

這支充滿(mǎn)藝術(shù)視覺(jué)的預(yù)告到底透露了多少細(xì)節(jié)信息，今天這期我們就來(lái)好好聊聊！

在解析這支預(yù)告過(guò)程中，我會(huì)穿插第一部《沙丘》和小說(shuō)沙丘的故事，嗯，會(huì)有第二部的劇透，盡量不涉及關(guān)鍵，其實(shí)嘛就算劇透也應(yīng)該對(duì)大家到時(shí)看《沙丘2》影響不大，維倫紐瓦的片子，視聽(tīng)享受看個(gè)電影感氛圍才是最重要的。

那廢話(huà)不多說(shuō)，咱們開(kāi)挖！

預(yù)告第一個(gè)畫(huà)面，當(dāng)然是厄拉科斯星球，也就是我們熟知的沙丘星球的畫(huà)面。

厄崔迪家族現(xiàn)任公爵保羅，在和厄拉科斯的弗雷曼人契妮坐在沙漠上拍拖，小兩口看著一望無(wú)際的沙子和其中夾雜的香料你儂我儂。

這時(shí)保羅說(shuō)到，把眼前的沙想象成水，若你潛進(jìn)去，根本深不見(jiàn)底。

保羅說(shuō)這叫游泳，嚴(yán)謹(jǐn)來(lái)說(shuō)應(yīng)該叫潛水或浮潛吧，契妮聽(tīng)了覺(jué)得這也太鬼扯了吧，畢竟契妮根本無(wú)法想象沙子變成海洋的場(chǎng)景。

保羅這么說(shuō)，其實(shí)是描繪了他的家鄉(xiāng)卡拉丹星球，在前作我們就能看到卡拉丹是從不缺水的海洋之星，厄崔迪家族一直都在該星球繁衍生息。

就連他們的飛船也直接安置在海洋里，保羅對(duì)于水的了解，遠(yuǎn)比對(duì)沙子要懂得多。

隨著厄崔迪家族日漸強(qiáng)大，被宇宙統(tǒng)治者帕迪沙皇帝心生嫉妒和擔(dān)憂(yōu)，于是便派遣厄崔迪家族一個(gè)棘手的任務(wù)，那就是從惡毒的哈克南家族手里，接管充滿(mǎn)香料的厄拉科斯星球，由此挑起兩家族的對(duì)戰(zhàn)，皇帝暗中幫助哈克南家族，滅掉厄崔迪家族。

厄崔迪家族的公爵萊托，就在這場(chǎng)設(shè)下的陷阱中走向死亡，由保羅繼承了公爵之名，之后保羅和他母親杰西卡被流放到沙漠，保羅在前作通過(guò)械斗...不是，通過(guò)決斗，從而被弗雷曼人所接受，弗雷曼人開(kāi)始相信保羅或許就是他們眼中的那位魁薩茨·哈德拉克，翻譯就是秋森萬(wàn)救世主。

當(dāng)然這段想象沙子變成水的對(duì)白，也預(yù)示了厄拉科斯星之后出現(xiàn)的“神跡”，如果影片到時(shí)也這么處理的話(huà)。

接下來(lái)就是弗雷曼人“八抬大轎”一個(gè)奇特的轎子，轎子里面坐著杰西卡女士。

先看這轎子的材質(zhì)，顯然是就地取材，材質(zhì)像是沙蟲(chóng)脫落的皮屑組織，或者其他某種生物的皮或排泄物復(fù)合而成，造型采用流線(xiàn)型設(shè)計(jì)，看來(lái)弗雷曼人是懂風(fēng)阻系數(shù)的，而且因?yàn)轱L(fēng)沙很大，這轎子窗戶(hù)部分開(kāi)口很小，符合當(dāng)?shù)丨h(huán)境。

杰西卡坐在里面，可以看到她的妝容已經(jīng)是弗雷曼人的圣母形象，眼睛是藍(lán)色，這是常年在厄拉科斯星生活，呼吸進(jìn)香料所導(dǎo)致，不過(guò)杰西卡的藍(lán)眼睛有更特別的解釋?zhuān)竺鏁?huì)提到。

杰西卡臉上還有刺青，這個(gè)形象和前作保羅預(yù)見(jiàn)母親未來(lái)的幻象是一致的。

這里為大白觀眾簡(jiǎn)單捋一捋，在沙丘宇宙，厄拉科斯星的香料相當(dāng)于現(xiàn)實(shí)中的石油，人們想要進(jìn)行遙遠(yuǎn)的星際遠(yuǎn)航，領(lǐng)航員必須吸食香料才能精準(zhǔn)預(yù)判航道。

此外香料的功用還有很多就不展開(kāi)了，總之就是神丹妙藥，服用延年益壽，樣子也變得和以前大不同呢，變樣后異形都會(huì)愛(ài)上。

《沙丘》中有一句最經(jīng)典的話(huà)：“誰(shuí)掌握香料，誰(shuí)就能掌握宇宙！”

另外沙丘宇宙還有一個(gè)神秘組織，就是杰西卡所屬的貝尼·杰瑟里特姐妹會(huì)，該組織經(jīng)過(guò)多年的發(fā)展，已經(jīng)滲入到了帝國(guó)政治的核心圈，同樣幾乎每個(gè)大家族的領(lǐng)導(dǎo)層，都會(huì)有姐妹會(huì)的成員出沒(méi)。

姐妹會(huì)的最終目標(biāo)是某成員生下救世主，帶來(lái)繁榮，不過(guò)還沒(méi)算好之前，大家都只能生女兒，杰西卡則違背了教條生下保羅，因?yàn)樗X(jué)得保羅就是那位秋森萬(wàn)。

我們接著看預(yù)告，旁白說(shuō)著“厄拉科斯星藏著很多秘密，而最陰暗的秘密仍在進(jìn)行，厄崔迪家族的結(jié)束”。

這句話(huà)由弗洛倫斯·皮尤，也就是白寡婦飾演伊如蘭公主，對(duì)著錄音筆念的，這句話(huà)其實(shí)就是告訴了觀眾前作發(fā)生的故事，厄拉科斯最陰暗的秘密，就是皇帝和哈克南家族聯(lián)手干掉了厄崔迪家族。

伊如蘭公主是皇帝的女兒，她是一位很重要的角色，伊如蘭和保羅的關(guān)系匪淺，在這就不太多劇透了。

在小說(shuō)中，每一個(gè)章節(jié)的文獻(xiàn)引子，就是由伊如蘭公主撰寫(xiě)的，她是整個(gè)沙丘故事的敘述者。伊如蘭公主也是姐妹會(huì)的成員。

期間畫(huà)面還放到一個(gè)士兵在焚燒堆成小山的尸體，這些尸體是厄崔迪的兵，在前作全被斬首，焚燒士兵的制服黑色系為主，是哈克南家族的人，仔細(xì)看頭部還有個(gè)小風(fēng)扇，帶火兵種解暑用的嗎。

當(dāng)然制服還有一個(gè)作用，可能就是回收身體水分。

這個(gè)景象同樣也被保羅在上一部預(yù)見(jiàn)到。

接著就是萊托公爵的畫(huà)像被燒，預(yù)示著厄崔迪家族就此隕落。

但他們不知道，保羅正在崛起。

接著就是杰西卡對(duì)保羅說(shuō)，你爸不希望冤冤相報(bào)。

反向我們知道保羅想要聯(lián)和弗雷曼人，一起反抗哈克南家族，對(duì)抗皇帝。

這里杰西卡臉上沒(méi)有紋身，眼睛也沒(méi)有呈現(xiàn)藍(lán)色，說(shuō)明這應(yīng)該是影片開(kāi)始不久，杰西卡還沒(méi)成為圣母前。

之后是一個(gè)看不清身影的人，結(jié)合后面保羅披著灰黑色披風(fēng)，這人就是保羅。

能證實(shí)此人是保羅還有伊如蘭公主后面說(shuō)的，如果保羅還活著呢。

仔細(xì)看伊如蘭旁邊有個(gè)身著黑色衣服的人在跟著，和伊如蘭平行走，所以此人不會(huì)是隨從或仆人，黑色應(yīng)該就是哈克南家族那邊的，看這身高，可能是哈克南男爵，他們應(yīng)該和伊如蘭在談?wù)摱虼薜霞易宓氖隆?/p>

之后是哥尼·哈萊克拿著望遠(yuǎn)鏡在看，哥尼是厄崔迪家族的將軍，在那晚的偷襲中他沒(méi)有大意，逃過(guò)一劫。

此時(shí)的哥尼看起來(lái)更憂(yōu)桑，似笑非笑……

哥尼在小說(shuō)中幸存后，也不知道保羅是死是活，于是在沙漠中成為類(lèi)似于沙丘海盜的角色，做起了香料走私的生意，沒(méi)辦法，人活著總得混口飯吃。

接下來(lái)畫(huà)面更藝術(shù)了，變成了黑白色，光頭似乎是哈克南家族的優(yōu)良基因，他叫菲德·羅薩·哈克南，是哈克南男爵的侄子，由出演過(guò)《貓王》的奧斯汀·巴特勒飾演。

菲德也是沙丘宇宙中的重要角色，為人瘋瘋癲癲，之前的作品他是這樣的。

這里的菲德更增加了幾分陰郁和捉摸不透的兇殘，不過(guò)個(gè)人覺(jué)得《瘋狂麥克斯4》的尼古拉斯·霍爾特那造型，放在菲德上也沒(méi)有太多違和感。

結(jié)合后面的畫(huà)面，這里的菲德在參加一個(gè)類(lèi)似斗獸場(chǎng)的打斗中，他很喜歡這種一對(duì)一單挑帶來(lái)的快感。

那么問(wèn)題來(lái)了，菲德這風(fēng)批為何第一部沒(méi)有出現(xiàn)呢，小說(shuō)中他應(yīng)該一直跟著哈克南男爵的，這當(dāng)然是怕出場(chǎng)角色太多，怕大家臉盲。

菲德所在的場(chǎng)景為何是黑白，我這里有幾種猜測(cè)，第一就是菲德是在自家的星球GIEDI PRIME。

在前作我們有窺探到這顆星球夜晚的一些場(chǎng)景，是有顏色的，或許在白天，因?yàn)檫@顆星球中有某種成分，過(guò)濾掉了光線(xiàn)的色彩，導(dǎo)致呈現(xiàn)黑白。

可能該星球因?yàn)槲廴緡?yán)重，高度工業(yè)化，所以空氣中光線(xiàn)的折射變得沒(méi)有顏色。

或許正是菲德喜歡待著自己星球，和他人進(jìn)行決斗完虐他人，所以才懶得去和叔叔跑到厄拉科斯滅厄崔迪家族。

但因?yàn)楣四夏芯艉髞?lái)發(fā)現(xiàn)保羅沒(méi)死，所以才讓菲德來(lái)幫忙。

在小說(shuō)中，菲德其實(shí)更效忠于皇帝，而非哈克南男爵，他也更喜歡在自己星球玩決斗。

那黑白場(chǎng)景另一個(gè)猜想，就是這是一個(gè)閃回，所以用了黑白處理，當(dāng)然這樣做就有點(diǎn)...不高級(jí)。畢竟前作保羅產(chǎn)生幻象時(shí)，都只是加強(qiáng)了顏色飽和度去區(qū)分，并沒(méi)有用更多視覺(jué)處理手法。

最后還有一個(gè)猜想，就是此時(shí)場(chǎng)景就是在厄拉科斯星，預(yù)告中有呈現(xiàn)厄拉科斯星上空，出現(xiàn)的星象，或許某個(gè)時(shí)間點(diǎn)，光線(xiàn)的色彩被宇宙輻射吸收掉。

這里有個(gè)細(xì)節(jié)，就是和菲德決斗的男人，很像第一部中，同公爵和保羅他們一起開(kāi)會(huì)，一起視察香料工廠(chǎng)的光頭男。

如果這是同一個(gè)人，那么又會(huì)有兩種腦洞，他是哈克南家族那邊派去的臥底，畢竟他也是光頭嘛，他已經(jīng)混進(jìn)到厄崔迪家族的核心管理層，厄崔迪家族被滅后，此人陪菲德在練習(xí)。

另外一個(gè)腦洞是他成了俘虜，在斗獸場(chǎng)和菲德決斗，我們能看到菲德兩只手都握著武器，而他只有一個(gè)手有武器，處于劣勢(shì)。

接下來(lái)是幾個(gè)快切畫(huà)面，保羅和契妮似乎在做一個(gè)秘密任務(wù)，引起了哈克南那邊的武器響應(yīng)，后面還有和小兵打斗畫(huà)面。

之后又一個(gè)新角色登場(chǎng)，害我感覺(jué)這預(yù)告我光介紹角色就好了。

這新角色由007嫂雷婭·賽杜飾演瑪戈夫人，瑪戈夫人又是何許人也，她也是姐妹會(huì)成員，高冷范十足。

在小說(shuō)中，瑪戈夫人其實(shí)看在和杰西卡都是姐妹會(huì)成員面子上，有暗中給杰西卡通風(fēng)報(bào)信，告訴她哈克南家族會(huì)暗算厄崔迪家族。

不過(guò)在影片中省略了，而是用了更隱晦的方式，讓杰西卡自己悟到了可能這是一個(gè)陷阱，但她卻沒(méi)有阻止也無(wú)法阻止。

瑪戈夫人的丈夫叫哈希米爾·芬寧伯爵，是一位門(mén)泰特，效忠于皇室。預(yù)告中沒(méi)有出現(xiàn)他，也沒(méi)有出現(xiàn)皇帝，不過(guò)第二部都會(huì)有，相信之后新預(yù)告就會(huì)出現(xiàn)了。

門(mén)泰特是啥，門(mén)泰特這個(gè)職業(yè)主要是擁有計(jì)算機(jī)運(yùn)算能力的人類(lèi)，心智被鍛煉出極速的認(rèn)知和分析能力，一般門(mén)泰特都是作為一個(gè)家族或首領(lǐng)軍師的角色存在，用于分析敵方的情況并出謀劃策。

第一部《沙丘》中由斯蒂芬·亨德森飾演的杜菲·哈瓦特，效忠于厄崔迪家族，他就擁有門(mén)泰特的能力，還是一名刺客大師。他看起來(lái)不像刺客對(duì)吧，我也覺(jué)得。

我們接著看預(yù)告，一只手放進(jìn)一個(gè)四孔裝置，這讓人聯(lián)想到第一部姐妹會(huì)測(cè)試保羅用的盒子，不過(guò)分析下來(lái)，更像是一個(gè)開(kāi)門(mén)裝置。

下一個(gè)鏡頭就是保羅他們準(zhǔn)備進(jìn)入一個(gè)圓形通道，從他們的裝束來(lái)看，應(yīng)該是保羅和杰西卡跟隨契妮他們，第一次進(jìn)入到弗雷曼人的地下之城。

再下一個(gè)畫(huà)面，是一個(gè)黑衣祭祀一樣的人，拿著一瓶精致裝飾的水，這瓶子下端的設(shè)計(jì)，用了沙漠的沙丘造型。

這就是沙丘宇宙著名的生命之水。

水在厄拉科斯星是最寶貴的硬通貨，精確到以滴來(lái)計(jì)量單位，除了香料沒(méi)有什么比水更重要。

這里的生命之水并不是普通的水，而是沙蟲(chóng)流出的液體，沙蟲(chóng)很怕水，當(dāng)沙蟲(chóng)遇到超量的水后，就會(huì)排出致命的液體，這種液體就是現(xiàn)在聊的生命之水。

人喝了這個(gè)生命之水，要么升仙，要么升天。貝尼·杰瑟里特姐妹會(huì)中，喝生命之水是一種考驗(yàn)，喝下后能存活就能升級(jí)成為圣母，并且和此前的圣母意識(shí)相聯(lián)結(jié)，通曉更多宇宙奧秘。

預(yù)告有一個(gè)畫(huà)面是杰西卡表情痛苦，就是她喝下生命之水的儀式過(guò)程，我們也知道最后杰西卡通過(guò)了考驗(yàn)，成為了弗雷曼人的圣母，坐上八抬大轎，有了一雙特別藍(lán)的眼睛。

這里多提一句，第一部我們知道杰西卡懷孕了，所以杰西卡喝下生命之水，胎中的寶寶直接升級(jí)，生下來(lái)就有著超能力，這里就不先展開(kāi)了。

之后是預(yù)告的后半段，基本就是保羅如何成為沙蟲(chóng)騎士（騎手）的場(chǎng)景。

斯第爾格有再三強(qiáng)調(diào)告訴保羅，不要耍帥，不需要喊什么泰褲辣，要認(rèn)真對(duì)待騎沙蟲(chóng)這件事情，保羅也謹(jǐn)聽(tīng)教誨。

訓(xùn)練保羅的人，應(yīng)該就是預(yù)告中被哈克南士兵圍堵的那位女弗雷曼人，她名字叫希沙克勒，在小說(shuō)和以前作品中是男的，在這變成了女性中和了一下。

第一部也有類(lèi)似的角色性別置換。

希沙克勒是弗雷曼人的沙蟲(chóng)騎手，應(yīng)該就是由她來(lái)負(fù)責(zé)訓(xùn)練保羅，騎沙蟲(chóng)和馴化沙蟲(chóng)，是弗雷曼人并不陌生的作戰(zhàn)方式了，當(dāng)然，也并不是說(shuō)有弗雷曼人都能成為騎手。

保羅這次挑戰(zhàn)成為沙蟲(chóng)騎士，是他想要成為弗雷曼人領(lǐng)導(dǎo)者，讓弗雷曼人堅(jiān)信他是救世主重要的標(biāo)志。

我們能看到保羅拿著震動(dòng)器吸引沙蟲(chóng)，一旁的契妮很是擔(dān)心，而且保羅當(dāng)時(shí)眼睛還沒(méi)有變成藍(lán)色，說(shuō)明騎沙蟲(chóng)應(yīng)該是比較早發(fā)生的事情。

當(dāng)保羅成功騎上沙蟲(chóng)后，眾人歡呼，斯第爾格更是驚訝的說(shuō)不出話(huà)來(lái)，或許在那一刻，他覺(jué)得弗雷曼人和厄拉科斯星有救了。

我們?cè)倭南履俏幌Ｉ晨死眨还四鲜勘鼑鷥炊嗉?，旁邊還有一只死掉的飛鳥(niǎo)，或許飛鳥(niǎo)是弗雷曼人通風(fēng)報(bào)信的原始工具，但被哈克南人識(shí)破。

另外還想提一嘴契妮頭上那一抹藍(lán)色的頭巾，很是槍眼，弗雷曼人的服裝一般都以實(shí)用和素色為主，或者接近于沙丘黃色頭巾布料。

這里契妮用了藍(lán)色頭巾，當(dāng)然是凸顯她為女主之一的重要，此外我覺(jué)得還有藍(lán)色也是弗雷曼人很珍貴的顏色，藍(lán)色代表了水源，也代表了神秘，他們常年吸食空氣中的香料眼睛呈現(xiàn)藍(lán)色，和藍(lán)色頭巾相呼應(yīng)，只能說(shuō)《沙丘》每個(gè)細(xì)節(jié)都很用心。

之后是好多家蜻蜓戰(zhàn)機(jī)飛向沙漠，或許是哈克南的人去找尋保羅下落。

還有一個(gè)畫(huà)面是弗雷曼人里，有好幾個(gè)包裹嚴(yán)實(shí)的宗教角色，他們可能是準(zhǔn)備給杰西卡做生命之水的儀式，也有可能是杰西卡已經(jīng)成為圣母的正式穿著。

接下來(lái)契妮和保羅在沙漠中擁吻，證實(shí)兩人戀情，這和開(kāi)頭的場(chǎng)景是同一場(chǎng)，或許這也是保羅準(zhǔn)備第一次嘗試騎沙蟲(chóng)前，兩人的對(duì)話(huà)。

還有一個(gè)畫(huà)面是菲德和瑪戈夫人靠的很近，感覺(jué)兩人下一秒就要親上，但我覺(jué)得應(yīng)該可能性不大，畢竟瑪戈夫人名花有主，或許就是他們喜歡講話(huà)方式靠很近，弄得很吊的感覺(jué)。

之后是杰西卡圣母說(shuō)，我們帶來(lái)了希望。而保羅反駁，這不是希望。

甜茶演技確實(shí)可以，生氣暴怒起來(lái)的情緒很到位，第一部保羅當(dāng)時(shí)對(duì)杰西卡生氣，也是突然暴怒，嚇了我一跳。

我們從預(yù)告可以看到，保羅似乎還會(huì)對(duì)杰西卡和她的姐妹會(huì)，把他變成“怪胎”耿耿于懷。

這里需要提一下的是，姐妹會(huì)確實(shí)想要培養(yǎng)救世主，但是是為了姐妹會(huì)，而不是為了弗雷曼人或厄拉科斯星。

但保羅現(xiàn)在是想要為父親復(fù)仇，為爭(zhēng)取弗雷曼人自由而奮斗，這里或許和杰西卡的姐妹會(huì)有些許理念沖突。

總之后來(lái)我們能看到，保羅高舉起晶牙匕，萬(wàn)萬(wàn)弗雷曼人一呼百應(yīng)，準(zhǔn)備向哈克南家族和皇帝宣戰(zhàn)。

這應(yīng)該也是第二部的決戰(zhàn)高潮戲份，在第一部保羅幻象中，就有呈現(xiàn)這樣的景象。

所以如果覺(jué)得第一部決戰(zhàn)像村口械斗的話(huà)，那么第二部大決戰(zhàn)的慘烈和宏大，應(yīng)該會(huì)比第一部要更具史詩(shī)和飽享視聽(tīng)盛宴了。

之后還有一個(gè)畫(huà)面，是保羅和菲德單挑決斗，保羅說(shuō)了句“愿你刀毀人亡”。這是弗雷曼人決斗的用語(yǔ)。

在第一部保羅和詹米決斗時(shí)，詹米就說(shuō)過(guò)。

如果是按照儀式走的話(huà)，那么保羅說(shuō)這句話(huà)，這場(chǎng)和菲德決斗應(yīng)該是保羅提出的，而且這樣的決斗，必須其中一方死掉。

那么這場(chǎng)決斗到底誰(shuí)贏了呢？賣(mài)個(gè)關(guān)子留到影院去看吧！

那么《沙丘2》第一支預(yù)告解析就先聊那么多！你對(duì)《沙丘2》有什么期待？歡迎在留言區(qū)與我分享！

CHAPTER 11

It is said that the Duke Leto blinded himself to the perils of Arrakis, that he walked heedlessly into the pit. Would it not be more likely to suggest he had lived so long in the presence of extreme danger he misjudged a change in its intensity? Or is it possible he deliberately sacrificed himself that his son might find a better life? All evidence indicates the Duke was a man not easily hoodwinked.

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

THE DUKE Leto Atreides leaned against a parapet of the landing control tower outside Arrakeen. The night’s first moon, an oblate silver coin, hung well above the southern horizon. Beneath it, the jagged cliffs of the Shield Wall shone like parched icing through a dust haze. To his left, the lights of Arrakeen glowed in the haze—yellow … white … blue.

He thought of the notices posted now above his signature all through the populous places of the planet: “Our Sublime Padishah Emperor has charged me to take possession of this planet and end all dispute.” The ritualistic formality of it touched him with a feeling of loneliness. Who was fooled by that fatuous legalism? Not the Fremen, certainly. Nor the Houses Minor who controlled the interior trade of Arrakis … and were Harkonnen creatures almost to a man.

They have tried to take the life of my son! The rage was difficult to suppress.

He saw lights of a moving vehicle coming toward the landing field from Arrakeen. He hoped it was the guard and troop carrier bringing Paul. The delay was galling even though he knew it was prompted by caution on the part of Hawat’s lieutenant.

They have tried to take the life of my son! He shook his head to drive out the angry thoughts, glanced back at the field where five of his own frigates were posted around the rim like monolithic sentries.

Better a cautious delay than …

The lieutenant was a good one, he reminded himself. A man marked for advancement, completely loyal.

“Our Sublime Padishah Emperor…. ” If the people of this decadent garrison city could only see the Emperor’s private note to his “Noble Duke”—the disdainful allusions to veiled men and women: “… but what else is one to expect of barbarians whose dearest dream is to live outside the ordered security of the faufreluches?” The Duke felt in this moment that his own dearest dream was to end all class distinctions and never again think of deadly order. He looked up and out of the dust at the unwinking stars, thought: Around one of those little lights circles Caladan … but I’ll never again see my home. The longing for Caladan was a sudden pain in his breast. He felt that it did not come from within himself, but that it reached out to him from Caladan. He could not bring himself to call this dry wasteland of Arrakis his home, and he doubted he ever would.

I must mask my feelings, he thought. For the boy’s sake. If ever he’s to have a home, this must be it. I may think of Arrakis as a hell I’ve reached before death, but he must find here that which will inspire him. There must be something.

A wave of self-pity, immediately despised and rejected, swept through him, and for some reason he found himself recalling two lines from a poem Gurney Halleck often repeated— “My lungs taste the air of Time Blown past falling sands….” Well, Gurney would find plenty of falling sands here, the Duke thought. The central wastelands beyond those moon-frosted cliffs were desert—barren rock, dunes, and blowing dust, an uncharted dry wilderness with here and there along its rim and perhaps scattered through it, knots of Fremen. If anything could buy a future for the Atreides line, the Fremen just might do it.

Provided the Harkonnens hadn’t managed to infect even the Fremen with their poisonous schemes.

They have tried to take the life of my son! A scraping metal racket vibrated through the tower, shook the parapet beneath his arms. Blast shutters dropped in front of him, blocking the view.

Shuttle’s coming in, he thought. Time to go down and get to work. He turned to the stairs behind him, headed down to the big assembly room, trying to remain calm as he descended, to prepare his face for the coming encounter.

They have tried to take the life of my son! The men were already boiling in from the field when he reached the yellow- domed room. They carried their spacebags over their shoulders, shouting and roistering like students returning from vacation.

“Hey! Feel that under your dogs? That’s gravity, man!”

“How many G’s does this place pull? Feels heavy.”

“Nine-tenths of a G by the book.” The crossfire of thrown words filled the big room.

“Did you get a good look at this hole on the way down? Where’s all the loot this place’s supposed to have?”

“The Harkonnens took it with ’em!”

“Me for a hot shower and a soft bed!”

“Haven’t you heard, stupid? No showers down here.

You scrub your ass with sand!”

“Hey! Can it! The Duke!” The Duke stepped out of the stair entry into a suddenly silent room. Gurney Halleck strode along at the point of the crowd, bag over one shoulder, the neck of his nine-string baliset clutched in the other hand. They were long-fingered hands with big thumbs, full of tiny movements that drew such delicate music from the baliset.

The Duke watched Halleck, admiring the ugly lump of a man, noting the glass-splinter eyes with their gleam of savage understanding. Here was a man who lived outside the faufreluches while obeying their every precept. What was it Paul had called him? “Gurney, the valorous. ” Halleck’s wispy blond hair trailed across barren spots on his head. His wide mouth was twisted into a pleasant sneer, and the scar of the inkvine whip slashed across his jawline seemed to move with a life of its own. His whole air was of casual, shoulder-set capability. He came up to the Duke, bowed.

“Gurney,”Leto said.

“My Lord.”He gestured with the baliset toward the men in the room. “This is the last of them. I’d have preferred coming in with the first wave, but….”

“There are still some Harkonnens for you,”the Duke said. “Step aside with me, Gurney, where we may talk.”

“Yours to command, my Lord.” They moved into an alcove beside a coil-slot water machine while the men stirred restlessly in the big room. Halleck dropped his bag into a corner, kept his grip on the baliset.

“How many men can you let Hawat have?”the Duke asked.

“Is Thufir in trouble, Sire?”

“He’s lost only two agents, but his advance men gave us an excellent line on the entire Harkonnen setup here. If we move fast we may gain a measure of security, the breathing space we require. He wants as many men as you can spare —men who won’t balk at a little knife work.”

“I can let him have three hundred of my best,”Halleck said. “Where shall I send them?”

“To the main gate. Hawat has an agent there waiting to take them.”

“Shall I get about it at once, Sire?”

“In a moment. We have another problem. The field commandant will hold the shuttle here until dawn on a pretext. The Guild Heighliner that brought us is going on about its business, and the shuttle’s supposed to make contact with a cargo ship taking up a load of spice.”

“Our spice, m’Lord?”

“Our spice. But the shuttle also will carry some of the spice hunters from the old regime. They’ve opted to leave with the change of fief and the Judge of the Change is allowing it. These are valuable workers, Gurney, about eight hundred of them. Before the shuttle leaves, you must persuade some of those men to enlist with us.”

“How strong a persuasion, Sire?”

“I want their willing cooperation, Gurney. Those men have experience and skills we need. The fact that they’re leaving suggests they’re not part of the Harkonnen machine. Hawat believes there could be some bad ones planted in the group, but he sees assassins in every shadow.”

“Thufir has found some very productive shadows in his time, m’Lord.”

“And there are some he hasn’t found. But I think planting sleepers in this outgoing crowd would show too much imagination for the Harkonnens.”

“Possibly, Sire. Where are these men?”

“Down on the lower level, in a waiting room. I suggest you go down and play a tune or two to soften their minds, then turn on the pressure. You may offer positions of authority to those who qualify. Offer twenty per cent higher wages than they received under the Harkonnens.”

“No more than that, Sire? I know the Harkonnen pay scales. And to men with their termination pay in their pockets and the wanderlust on them … well, Sire, twenty per cent would hardly seem proper inducement to stay.” Leto spoke impatiently: “Then use your own discretion in particular cases.

Just remember that the treasury isn’t bottomless. Hold it to twenty per cent whenever you can. We particularly need spice drivers, weather scanners, dune men—any with open sand experience.”

“I understand, Sire. ‘They shall come all for violence: their faces shall sup up as the east wind, and they shall gather the captivity of the sand.’ ”

“A very moving quotation,”the Duke said. “Turn your crew over to a lieutenant. Have him give a short drill on water discipline, then bed the men down for the night in the barracks adjoining the field. Field personnel will direct them. And don’t forget the men for Hawat.”

“Three hundred of the best, Sire.”He took up his spacebag. “Where shall I report to you when I’ve completed my chores?”

“I’ve taken over a council room topside here. We’ll hold staff there. I want to arrange a new planetary dispersal order with armored squads going out first.” Halleck stopped in the act of turning away, caught Leto’s eye. “Are you anticipating that kind of trouble, Sire? I thought there was a Judge of the Change here.”

“Both open battle and secret,”the Duke said. “There’ll be blood aplenty spilled here before we’re through.”

“‘And the water which thou takest out of the river shall become blood upon the dry land,’ ”Halleck quoted.

The Duke sighed. “Hurry back, Gurney.”

“Very good, m‘Lord.”The whipscar rippled to his grin. “‘Behold, as a wild ass in the desert, go I forth to my work.’”He turned, strode to the center of the room, paused to relay his orders, hurried on through the men.

Leto shook his head at the retreating back. Halleck was a continual amazement—a head full of songs, quotations, and flowery phrases … and the heart of an assassin when it came to dealing with the Harkonnens.

Presently, Leto took a leisurely diagonal course across to the lift, acknowledging salutes with a casual hand wave. He recognized a propaganda corpsman, stopped to give him a message that could be relayed to the men through channels: those who had brought their women would want to know the women were safe and where they could be found. The others would wish to know that the population here appeared to boast more women than men.

The Duke slapped the propaganda man on the arm, a signal that the message had top priority to be put out immediately, then continued across the room. He nodded to the men, smiled, traded pleasantries with a subaltern.

Command must always look confident, he thought. All that faith riding on your shoulders while you sit in the critical seat and never show it.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the lift swallowed him and he could turn and face the impersonal doors.

They have tried to take the life of my son!

To the people whose labors go beyond ideas into the realm of “real materials” —to the dry-land ecologists, wherever they may be, in whatever time they work, this effort at prediction is dedicated in humility and admiration.

Frank Herbert

1965

Book One: DUNE

CHAPTER 1

A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct. This every sister of the Bene Gesserit knows. To begin your study of the life of Muad‘Dib, then, take care that you first place him in his time: born in the 57th year of the Padishah Emperor, Shaddam IV. And take the most special care that you locate Muad’Dib in his place: the planet Arrakis. Do not be deceived by the fact that he was bom on Caladan and lived his first fifteen years there. Arrakis, the planet known as Dune, is forever his place.

-from “Manual of Muad’Dib” by the Princess Irulan

IN THE week before their departure to Arrakis, when all the final scurrying about had reached a nearly unbearable frenzy, an old crone came to visit the mother of the boy, Paul.

It was a warm night at Castle Caladan, and the ancient pile of stone that had served the Atreides family as home for twenty-six generations bore that cooledsweat feeling it acquired before a change in the weather.

The old woman was let in by the side door down the vaulted passage by Paul’s room and she was allowed a moment to peer in at him where he lay in his bed.

By the half-light of a suspensor lamp, dimmed and hanging near the floor, the awakened boy could see a bulky female shape at his door, standing one step ahead of his mother. The old woman was a witch shadow—hair like matted spiderwebs, hooded ’round darkness of features, eyes like glittering jewels.

“Is he not small for his age, Jessica?” the old woman asked. Her voice wheezed and twanged like an untuned baliset.

Paul’s mother answered in her soft contralto: “The Atreides are known to start late getting their growth, Your Reverence.”

“So I’ve heard, so I’ve heard,” wheezed the old woman. “Yet he’s already fifteen.”

“Yes, Your Reverence.”

“He’s awake and listening to us,” said the old woman. “Sly little rascal.” She chuckled. “But royalty has need of slyness. And if he’s really the Kwisatz Haderach … well….” Within the shadows of his bed, Paul held his eyes open to mere slits. Two bird-bright ovals—the eyes of the old woman—seemed to expand and glow as they stared into his.

“Sleep well, you sly little rascal,” said the old woman. “Tomorrow you’ll need all your faculties to meet my gom jabbar.” And she was gone, pushing his mother out, closing the door with a solid thump.

Paul lay awake wondering: What’s a gom jabbar? In all the upset during this time of change, the old woman was the strangest thing he had seen.

Your Reverence.

And the way she called his mother Jessica like a common serving wench instead of what she was—a Bene Gesserit Lady, a duke’s concubine and mother of the ducal heir.

Is a gom jabbar something of Arrakis I must know before we go there? he wondered.

He mouthed her strange words: Gomjabbar… Kwisatz Haderach.

There had been so many things to learn. Arrakis would be a place so different from Caladan that Paul’s mind whirled with the new knowledge.

Arrakis—Dune—Desert Planet.

Thufir Hawat, his father’s Master of Assassins, had explained it: their mortal enemies, the Harkonnens, had been on Arrakis eighty years, holding the planet in quasi-fief under a CHOAM Company contract to mine the geriatric spice, melange. Now the Harkonnens were leaving to be replaced by the House of Atreides in fief-complete-an apparent victory for the Duke Leto. Yet, Hawat had said, this appearance contained the deadliest peril, for the Duke Leto was popular among the Great Houses of the Landsraad.

“A popular man arouses the jealousy of the powerful,” Hawat had said.

Arrakis—Dune—Desert Planet.

Paul fell asleep to dream of an Arrakeen cavern, silent people all around him moving in the dim light of glowglobes. It was solemn there and like a cathedral as he listened to a faint sound—the drip-drip-drip of water. Even while he remained in the dream, Paul knew he would remember it upon awakening. He always remembered the dreams that were predictions.

The dream faded.

Paul awoke to feel himself in the warmth of his bed—thinking … thinking.

This world of Castle Caladan, without play or companions his own age, perhaps did not deserve sadness in farewell. Dr. Yueh, his teacher, had hinted that the faufreluches class system was not rigidly guarded on Arrakis. The planet sheltered people who lived at the desert edge without caid or bashar to command them: will-o’-the-sand people called Fremen, marked down on no census of the Imperial Regate.

Arrakis-Dune-Desert Planet.

Paul sensed his own tensions, decided to practice one of the mind-body lessons his mother had taught him. Three quick breaths triggered the responses: he fell into the floating awareness … focusing the consciousness … aortal dilation … avoiding the unfocused mechanism of consciousness … to be conscious by choice … blood enriched and swift-flooding the overload regions … one does not obtain food-safety-freedom by instinct alone … animal consciousness does not extend beyond the given moment nor into the idea that its victims may become extinct … the animal destroys and does not produce … animal pleasures remain close to sensation levels and avoid the perceptual … the human requires a background grid through which to see his universe … focused consciousness by choice, this forms your grid … bodily integrity follows nerveblood flow according to the deepest awareness of cell needs … all things/cells/beings are impermanent … strive for flow-permanence within….

Over and over and over within Paul’s floating awareness the lesson rolled.

When dawn touched Paul’s window sill with yellow light, he sensed it through closed eyelids, opened them, hearing then the renewed bustle and hurry in the castle, seeing the familiar patterned beams of his bedroom ceiling.

The hall door opened and his mother peered in, hair like shaded bronze held with black ribbon at the crown, her oval face emotionless and green eyes staring solemnly.

“You’re awake,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.” He studied the tallness of her, saw the hint of tension in her shoulders as she chose clothing for him from the closet racks. Another might have missed the tension, but she had trained him in the Bene Gesserit Way—in the minutiae of observation. She turned, holding a semiformal jacket for him. It carried the red Atreides hawk crest above the breast pocket.

“Hurry and dress,” she said. “Reverend Mother is waiting.”

“I dreamed of her once,” Paul said. “Who is she?”

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school. Now, she’s the Emperor’s Truthsayer. And Paul….” She hesitated. “You must tell her about your dreams.”

“I will. Is she the reason we got Arrakis?”

“We did not get Arrakis.” Jessica flicked dust from a pair of trousers, hung them with the jacket on the dressing stand beside his bed. “Don’t keep Reverend Mother waiting.” Paul sat up, hugged his knees. “What’s a gom jabbar?” Again, the training she had given him exposed her almost invisible hesitation, a nervous betrayal he felt as fear.

Jessica crossed to the window, flung wide the draperies, stared across the river orchards toward Mount Syubi. “You’ll learn about … the gom jabbar soon enough,” she said.

He heard the fear in her voice and wondered at it.

Jessica spoke without turning. “Reverend Mother is waiting in my morning room. Please hurry.” The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam sat in a tapestried chair watching mother and son approach. Windows on each side of her overlooked the curving southern bend of the river and the green farmlands of the Atreides family holding, but the Reverend Mother ignored the view. She was feeling her age this morning, more than a little petulant. She blamed it on space travel and association with that abominable Spacing Guild and its secretive ways. But here was a mission that required personal attention from a Bene Gesserit-with-theSight. Even the Padishah Emperor’s Truthsayer couldn’t evade that responsibility when the duty call came.

Damn that Jessica! the Reverend Mother thought. If only she’d borne us a girl as she was ordered to do! Jessica stopped three paces from the chair, dropped a small curtsy, a gentle flick of left hand along the line of her skirt. Paul gave the short bow his dancing master had taught—the one used “when in doubt of another’s station.” The nuances of Paul’s greeting were not lost on the Reverend Mother. She said: “He’s a cautious one, Jessica.” Jessica’s hand went to Paul’s shoulder, tightened there. For a heartbeat, fear pulsed through her palm. Then she had herself under control. “Thus he has been taught, Your Reverence.” What does she fear? Paul wondered.

The old woman studied Paul in one gestalten flicker: face oval like Jessica’s, but strong bones … hair: the Duke’s black-black but with browline of the maternal grandfather who cannot be named, and that thin, disdainful nose; shape of directly staring green eyes: like the old Duke, the paternal grandfather who is dead.

Now, there was a man who appreciated the power ofbravura—even in death, the Reverend Mother thought.

“Teaching is one thing,” she said, “the basic ingredient is another. We shall see.” The old eyes darted a hard glance at Jessica. “Leave us. I enjoin you to practice the meditation of peace.” Jessica took her hand from Paul’s shoulder. “Your Reverence, I—”

“Jessica, you know it must be done.” Paul looked up at his mother, puzzled.

Jessica straightened. “Yes … of course.” Paul looked back at the Reverend Mother. Politeness and his mother’s obvious awe of this old woman argued caution. Yet he felt an angry apprehension at the fear he sensed radiating from his mother.

“Paul….” Jessica took a deep breath. “… this test you’re about to receive … it’s important to me.”

“Test?” He looked up at her.

“Remember that you’re a duke’s son,” Jessica said. She whirled and strode from the room in a dry swishing of skirt. The door closed solidly behind her.

Paul faced the old woman, holding anger in check. “Does one dismiss the Lady Jessica as though she were a serving wench?” A smile flicked the corners of the wrinkled old mouth. “The Lady Jessica was my serving wench, lad, for fourteen years at school.” She nodded. “And a good one, too. Now, you come here!” The command whipped out at him. Paul found himself obeying before he could think about it. Using the Voice on me, he thought. He stopped at her gesture, standing beside her knees.

“See this?” she asked. From the folds of her gown, she lifted a green metal cube about fifteen centimeters on a side. She turned it and Paul saw that one side was open—black and oddly frightening. No light penetrated that open blackness.

“Put your right hand in the box,” she said.

Fear shot through Paul. He started to back away, but the old woman said: “Is this how you obey your mother?” He looked up into bird-bright eyes.

Slowly, feeling the compulsions and unable to inhibit them, Paul put his hand into the box. He felt first a sense of cold as the blackness closed around his hand, then slick metal against his fingers and a prickling as though his hand were asleep.

A predatory look filled the old woman’s features. She lifted her right hand away from the box and poised the hand close to the side of Paul’s neck. He saw a glint of metal there and started to turn toward it.

“Stop!” she snapped.

Using the Voice again! He swung his attention back to her face.

“I hold at your neck the gom jabbar,” she said. “The gom jabbar, the highhanded enemy. It’s a needle with a drop of poison on its tip. Ah-ah! Don’t pull away or you’ll feel that poison.” Paul tried to swallow in a dry throat. He could not take his attention from the seamed old face, the glistening eyes, the pale gums around silvery metal teeth that flashed as she spoke.

“A duke’s son must know about poisons,” she said. “It’s the way of our times, eh? Musky, to be poisoned in your drink. Aumas, to be poisoned in your food. The quick ones and the slow ones and the ones in between. Here’s a new one for you: the gom jabbar. It kills only animals.” Pride overcame Paul’s fear. “You dare suggest a duke’s son is an animal?” he demanded.

“Let us say I suggest you may be human,” she said. “Steady! I warn you not to try jerking away. I am old, but my hand can drive this needle into your neck before you escape me.”

“Who are you?” he whispered. “How did you trick my mother into leaving me alone with you? Are you from the Harkonnens?”

“The Harkonnens? Bless us, no! Now, be silent.” A dry finger touched his neck and he stilled the involuntary urge to leap away.

“Good,” she said. “You pass the first test. Now, here’s the way of the rest of it: If you withdraw your hand from the box you die. This is the only rule. Keep your hand in the box and live. Withdraw it and die.” Paul took a deep breath to still his trembling. “If I call out there’ll be servants on you in seconds and you’ll die.”

“Servants will not pass your mother who stands guard outside that door.

Depend on it. Your mother survived this test. Now it’s your turn. Be honored.

We seldom administer this to men-children.” Curiosity reduced Paul’s fear to a manageable level. He heard truth in the old woman’s voice, no denying it. If his mother stood guard out there … if this were truly a test…. And whatever it was, he knew himself caught in it, trapped by that hand at his neck: the gom jabbar. He recalled the response from the Litany against Fear as his mother had taught him out of the Bene Gesserit rite.

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. ” He felt calmness return, said: “Get on with it, old woman.”

“Old woman!” she snapped. “You’ve courage, and that can’t be denied.

Well, we shall see, sirra.” She bent close, lowered her voice almost to a whisper.

“You will feel pain in this hand within the box. Pain. But! Withdraw the hand and I’ll touch your neck with my gom jabbar—the death so swift it’s like the fall of the headsman’s axe. Withdraw your hand and the gom jabbar takes you.

Understand?”

“What’s in the box?”

“Pain.” He felt increased tingling in his hand, pressed his lips tightly together. How could this be a test? he wondered. The tingling became an itch.

The old woman said: “You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” The itch became the faintest burning. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded.

“To determine if you’re human. Be silent.” Paul clenched his left hand into a fist as the burning sensation increased in the other hand. It mounted slowly: heat upon heat upon heat … upon heat. He felt the fingernails of his free hand biting the palm. He tried to flex the fingers of the burning hand, but couldn’t move them.

“It burns,” he whispered.

“Silence!” Pain throbbed up his arm. Sweat stood out on his forehead. Every fiber cried out to withdraw the hand from that burning pit… but … the gom jabbar. Without turning his head, he tried to move his eyes to see that terrible needle poised beside his neck. He sensed that he was breathing in gasps, tried to slow his breaths and couldn’t.

Pain! His world emptied of everything except that hand immersed in agony, the ancient face inches away staring at him.

His lips were so dry he had difficulty separating them.

The burning! The burning! He thought he could feel skin curling black on that agonized hand, the flesh crisping and dropping away until only charred bones remained.

It stopped! As though a switch had been turned off, the pain stopped.

Paul felt his right arm trembling, felt sweat bathing his body.

“Enough,” the old woman muttered. “Kull wahad! No woman-child ever withstood that much. I must’ve wanted you to fail.” She leaned back, withdrawing the gom jabbar from the side of his neck. “Take your hand from the box, young human, and look at it.” He fought down an aching shiver, stared at the lightless void where his hand seemed to remain of its own volition. Memory of pain inhibited every movement. Reason told him he would withdraw a blackened stump from that box.

“Do it!” she snapped.

He jerked his hand from the box, stared at it astonished. Not a mark. No sign of agony on the flesh. He held up the hand, turned it, flexed the fingers.

“Pain by nerve induction,” she said. “Can’t go around maiming potential humans. There’re those who’d give a pretty for the secret of this box, though.” She slipped it into the folds of her gown.

“But the pain—” he said.

“Pain,” she sniffed. “A human can override any nerve in the body.” Paul felt his left hand aching, uncurled the clenched fingers, looked at four bloody marks where fingernails had bitten his palm. He dropped the hand to his side, looked at the old woman. “You did that to my mother once?”

“Ever sift sand through a screen?” she asked.

The tangential slash of her question shocked his mind into a higher awareness: Sand through a screen. He nodded.

“We Bene Gesserit sift people to find the humans.” He lifted his right hand, willing the memory of the pain. “And that’s all there is to it—pain?”

“I observed you in pain, lad. Pain’s merely the axis of the test. Your mother’s told you about our ways of observing. I see the signs of her teaching in you. Our test is crisis and observation.” He heard the confirmation in her voice, said: “It’s truth!” She stared at him. He senses truth! Could he be the one? Could he truly be the one? She extinguished the excitement, reminding herself: “Hope clouds observation.”

“You know when people believe what they say,” she said.

“I know it.” The harmonics of ability confirmed by repeated test were in his voice. She heard them, said: “Perhaps you are the Kwisatz Haderach. Sit down, little brother, here at my feet.”

“I prefer to stand.”

“Your mother sat at my feet once.”

“I’m not my mother.”

“You hate us a little, eh?” She looked toward the door, called out: “Jessica!” The door flew open and Jessica stood there staring hard-eyed into the room.

Hardness melted from her as she saw Paul. She managed a faint smile.

“Jessica, have you ever stopped hating me?” the old woman asked.

“I both love and hate you,” Jessica said. “The hate—that’s from pains I must never forget. The love—that’s….”

“Just the basic fact,” the old woman said, but her voice was gentle. “You may come in now, but remain silent. Close that door and mind it that no one interrupts us.” Jessica stepped into the room, closed the door and stood with her back to it.

My son lives, she thought. My son lives and is… human. I knew he was … but … he lives. Now, I can go on living. The door felt hard and real against her back.

Everything in the room was immediate and pressing against her senses.

My son lives.

Paul looked at his mother. She told the truth. He wanted to get away alone and think this experience through, but knew he could not leave until he was dismissed. The old woman had gained a power over him. They spoke truth. His mother had undergone this test. There must be terrible purpose in it … the pain and fear had been terrible. He understood terrible purposes. They drove against all odds. They were their own necessity. Paul felt that he had been infected with terrible purpose. He did not know yet what the terrible purpose was.

“Some day, lad,” the old woman said, “you, too, may have to stand outside a door like that. It takes a measure of doing.” Paul looked down at the hand that had known pain, then up to the Reverend Mother. The sound of her voice had contained a difference then from any other voice in his experience. The words were outlined in brilliance. There was an edge to them. He felt that any question he might ask her would bring an answer that could lift him out of his flesh-world into something greater.

“Why do you test for humans?” he asked.

“To set you free.”

“Free?”

“Once men turned their thinking over to machines in the hope that this would set them free. But that only permitted other men with machines to enslave them.”

“ ‘Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a man’s mind,’ ” Paul quoted.

“Right out of the Butlerian Jihad and the Orange Catholic Bible,” she said.

“But what the O.C. Bible should’ve said is: ‘Thou shalt not make a machine to counterfeit a human mind.’ Have you studied the Mentat in your service?”

“I’ve studied with Thufir Hawat.”

“The Great Revolt took away a crutch,” she said. “It forced human minds to develop. Schools were started to train human talents.”

“Bene Gesserit schools?” She nodded. “We have two chief survivors of those ancient schools: the Bene Gesserit and the Spacing Guild. The Guild, so we think, emphasizes almost pure mathematics. Bene Gesserit performs another function.”

“Politics,” he said.

“Kull wahad!” the old woman said. She sent a hard glance at Jessica.

“I’ve not told him, Your Reverence,” Jessica said.

The Reverend Mother returned her attention to Paul. “You did that on remarkably few clues,” she said. “Politics indeed. The original Bene Gesserit school was directed by those who saw the need of a thread of continuity in human affairs. They saw there could be no such continuity without separating human stock from animal stock—for breeding purposes.” The old woman’s words abruptly lost their special sharpness for Paul. He felt an offense against what his mother called his instinct for rightness. It wasn’t that Reverend Mother lied to him. She obviously believed what she said. It was something deeper, something tied to his terrible purpose.

He said: “But my mother tells me many Bene Gesserit of the schools don’t know their ancestry.”

“The genetic lines are always in our records,” she said. “Your mother knows that either she’s of Bene Gesserit descent or her stock was acceptable in itself.”

“Then why couldn’t she know who her parents are?”

“Some do…. Many don’t. We might, for example, have wanted to breed her to a close relative to set up a dominant in some genetic trait. We have many reasons.” Again, Paul felt the offense against rightness. He said: “You take a lot on yourselves.” The Reverend Mother stared at him, wondering: Did I hear criticism in his voice? “We carry a heavy burden,” she said.

Paul felt himself coming more and more out of the shock of the test. He leveled a measuring stare at her, said: “You say maybe I’m the … Kwisatz Haderach. What’s that, a human gom jabbar?”

“Paul,” Jessica said. “You mustn’t take that tone with—”

“I’ll handle this, Jessica,” the old woman said. “Now, lad, do you know about the Truthsayer drug?”

“You take it to improve your ability to detect falsehood,” he said. “My mother’s told me.”

“Have you ever seen truthtrance?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“The drug’s dangerous,” she said, “but it gives insight. When a Truthsayer’s gifted by the drug, she can look many places in her memory—in her body’s memory. We look down so many avenues of the past … but only feminine avenues.” Her voice took on a note of sadness. “Yet, there’s a place where no Truthsayer can see. We are repelled by it, terrorized. It is said a man will come one day and find in the gift of the drug his inward eye. He will look where we cannot—into both feminine and masculine pasts.”

“Your Kwisatz Haderach?”

“Yes, the one who can be many places at once: the Kwisatz Haderach. Many men have tried the drug … so many, but none has succeeded.”

“They tried and failed, all of them?”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “They tried and died.”