fh.godemperorofdune-第79部分

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soon　as　a　small；　petulant　fool；　a　subject　only　of　his　own　emotions。　He　could　feel　himself　fading　from　her　immediate　concerns。
　And　that　poor　Moneo！
　Idaho　sensed　the　shape　of　the　things　which　had　formed　the　pliant　majordomo。　Duty　and　responsibility。　What　a　safe　haven　those　were　in　a　time　of　difficult　decisions。
　I　was　like　that　once；　Idaho　thought。　But　that　was　in　another　life；　another　time。
　
　The　Duncans　sometimes　ask　if　I　understand　the　exotic　ideas　of　our　past？　And　if　I　understand　them；　why　can't　I　explain　them？　Knowledge；　the　Duncans　believe；　resides　only　in　particulars。　I　try　to　tell　them　that　all　words　are　plastic。　Word　images　begin　to　distort　in　the　instant　of　utterance。　Ideas　imbedded　in　a　language　require　that　particular　language　for　expression。　This　is　the　very　essence　of　the　meaning　within　the　word　exotic。　See　how　it　begins　to　distort？　Translation　squirms　in　the　presence　of　the　exotic。　The　Galach　which　I　speak　here　imposes　itself。　It　is　an　outside　frame　of　reference；　a　particular　system。　Dangers　lurk　in　all　systems。　Systems　incorporate　the　unexamined　beliefs　of　their　creators。　Adopt　a　system；　accept　its　beliefs；　and　you　help　strengthen　the　resistance　to　change。　Does　it　serve　any　purpose　for　me　to　tell　the　Duncans　that　there　are　no　languages　for　some　things？　Ahhh！　But　the　Duncans　believe　that　all　languages　are　mine。
　…The　Stolen　Journals
　Fort　Two　full　turns　of　days　and　nights；　Siona　failed　to　seal　her　face　mask；　losing　precious　water　with　every　breath。　It　had　taken　the　Fremen　admonition　to　children　before　Siona　remembered　her　father's　words。　Leto　had　spoken　to　her　finally　on　the　cold　third　morning　of　their　traverse　when　they　stopped　within　a　rock　shadow　on　the　windswept　flat　of　the　erg。
　〃Guard　every　breath　for　it　carries　the　warmth　and　moisture　of　your　life；〃　he　said。
　He　had　known　they　would　be　three　more　days　on　the　erg　and　three　more　nights　beyond　that　before　they　reached　water。　Now；　it　was　the　fifth　morning　from　the　Little　Citadel's　tower。　They　had　entered　shallow　drifts　of　sand　during　the　night…not　dunes；　but　dunes　could　be　glimpsed　ahead　of　them　and　even　the　remnants　of　Habbanya　Ridge　were　a　thin；　broken　line　in　the　distance　if　you　knew　where　to　look。　Now；　Siona　took　down　the　mouth　flap　of　her　stillsuit　only　to　speak　clearly。　And　she　spoke　through　black　and　bleeding　lips。
　She　has　the　thirst　of　desperation；　he　thought；　as　he　let　his　senses　probe　their　surroundings。　She　will　reach　the　moments　of　crisis　soon。　His　senses　told　him　that　they　were　still　alone　here　at　the　edge　of　the　flat。　Dawn　lay　only　minutes　behind　them。　The　low　light　created　barriers　of　dust　reflection　which　twisted　and　lifted　and　dipped　in　the　unceasing　wind。　His　senses　filtered　out　the　wind　that　he　might　hear　other　things　Siona's　heaving　breaths；　the　tumble　of　a　small　sandspill　from　the　rocks　beside　them；　his　own　gross　body　grating　in　the　thin　sand　cover。
　Siona　peeled　her　face　mask　aside　but　held　it　in　her　hand　for　quick　restoration。
　〃How　much　longer　until　we　find　water？〃　she　asked。
　〃Three　nights。〃
　〃Is　there　a　better　direction　to　go？〃
　〃No。〃
　She　had　e　to　appreciate　the　Fremen　economy　with　important　information。　She　sipped　greedily　at　a　few　drops　in　her　catchpocket。
　Leto　recognized　the　message　of　her　movements…familiar　gestures　for　Fremen　in　extremis。　Siona　was　now　fully　aware　of　a　mon　experience　among　her　ancestors　patiyeh；　the　thirst　at　the　edge　of　death。
　The　few　drops　in　her　catchpocket　were　gone。　He　heard　her　sucking　air。　She　restored　the　mask　and　spoke　in　a　muffed　voice。
　〃I　won't　make　it；　will　I？〃
　Leto　looked　into　her　eyes；　seeing　there　the　clarity　of　thought　brought　on　by　the　nearness　of　death；　a　penetrating　awareness　seldom　otherwise　achieved。　It　amplified　only　that　which　was　required　for　survival。　Yes；　she　was　well　into　the　tedah　riagrimi；　the　agony　which　opens　the　mind。　Soon；　she　would　have　to　make　that　ultimate　decision　which　she　yet　believed　she　had　already　made。　Leto　knew　by　the　signs　that　he　was　required　to　treat　Siona　now　with　extreme　courtesy。　He　would　have　to　answer　every　question　with　candor　for　in　every　question　lurked　a　judgment。
　〃Will　I？〃　she　insisted。
　There　was　still　a　trace　of　hope　in　her　desperation。
　〃Nothing　is　certain；〃　he　said。
　This　dropped　her　into　despair。
　That　had　not　been　Leto's　intention；　but　he　knew　that　it　often　happened…an　accurate；　though　ambiguous；　answer　was　taken　as　confirmation　of　one's　deepest　fears。
　She　sighed。
　Her　mask…muffled　voice　probed　at　him　once　more。　〃You　had　some　special　intention　for　me　in　your　breeding　program。〃
　It　was　not　a　question。
　〃All　people　have　intentions；〃　he　told　her。
　〃But　you　wanted　my　full　agreement。〃
　〃That　is　true。〃
　〃How　could　you　expect　agreement　when　you　know　I　hate　everything　about　you？　Be　honest　with　me！〃
　〃The　three　legs　of　the　agreement…tripod　are　desire；　data　and　doubt。　Accuracy　and　honesty　have　little　to　do　with　it。〃
　〃Please　don't　argue　with　me。　You　know　I'm　dying。〃
　〃I　respect　you　too　much　to　argue　with　you。〃
　He　lifted　his　front　segments　slightly　then；　probing　the　wind。　It　already　was　beginning　to　bring　the　day's　heat　but　there　was　too　much　moisture　in　it　for　his　fort。　He　was　reminded　that　the　more　he　ordered　the　weather　controlled；　the　more　there　was　that　required　control。　Absolutes　only　brought　him　closer　to　vagueries。
　〃You　say　you're　not　arguing；　but。。
　。〃
　〃Argument　closes　off　the　doors　of　the　senses；〃　he　said；　lowering　himself　back　to　the　surface。　〃It　always　masks　violence。　Continued　too　long；　argument　always　leads　to　violence。　I　have　no　violent　intentions　toward　you。〃
　〃What　do　you　mean…desire；　data　and　doubt？〃
　〃Desire　brings　the　participants　together。　Data　set　the　limits　of　their　dialogue。　Doubt　frames　the　questions。〃
　She　moved　closer　to　stare　directly　into　his　face　from　less　than　a　meter　away。
　How　odd；　he　thought；　that　hatred　could　be　mingled　so　pletely　with　hope　and　fear　and　awe。
　〃Could　you　save　me？〃
　〃There　is　a　way。〃
　She　nodded　and　he　knew　she　had　leaped　to　the　wrong　conclusion。
　〃You　want　to　trade　that　for　my　agreement！〃　she　accused。
　〃No。〃
　〃If　I　pass　your　test。　。　。〃
　〃It　is　not　my　test。〃
　〃Whose？〃
　〃It　derives　from　our　mon　ancestors。〃
　Siona　sank　to　a　sitting　position　on　the　cold　rock　and　remained　silent；　not　yet　ready　to　ask　for　a　resting　place　within　the　lip　of　his　warm　front　segment。　Leto　thought　he　could　hear　the　soft　scream　waiting　in　her　throat。　Now；　her　doubts　were　at　work。　She　was　beginning　to　wonder　if　he　really　could　be　fitted　into　her　image　of　Ultimate　Tyrant。　She　looked　up　at　him　with　that　terrible　clarity　he　had　identified　in　her。
　〃What　makes　you　do　what　you　do？〃
　The　question　was　well　framed。　He　said：　〃My　need　to　save　the　people。〃
　〃What　people？〃
　〃My　definition　is　much　broader　than　that　of　anyone　else　even　of　the　Bene　Gesserit；　who　think　they　have　defined　what　it　is　to　be　human。　I　refer　to　the　eternal　thread　of　all　humankind　by　whatever　definition。〃
　〃You're　trying　to　tell　me。　。　。〃　Her　mouth　became　too　dry　for　speaking。　She　tried　to　accumulate　saliva。　He　saw　the　movements　within　her　face　mask。　Her　question　was　obvious；　though；　and　he　did　not　wait。
　〃Without　me　there　would　have　been　by　now　no　people　anywhere；　none　whatsoever。　And　the　path　to　that　extinction　was　more　hideous　than　your　wildest　imaginings。〃
　〃Your　supposed　prescience；〃　she　sneered。
　〃The　Golden　Path　still　stands　open；〃　he　said。
　〃I　don't　trust　you！〃
　〃Because　we　are　not　equals？〃
　〃Yes！〃
　〃But　we're　interdependent。〃
　〃What　need　have　you　for　me？〃
　Ahhh；　the　cry　of　youth　unsure　of　its　niche。　He　felt　the　strength　within　the　secret　bonds　of　dependency　and　forced　himself　to　be　hard。　Dependency　fosters　weakness！
　〃You　are　the　Golden　Path；〃　he　said。
　〃Me？〃　It　was　barely　a　whisper。
　〃You've　read　those　journals　you　stole　from　me；〃　he　said。　〃I　am　in　them；　but　where　are　you？　Look　at　what　I　have　created；　Siona。　And　you；　you　can　create　nothing　except　yourself。〃
　〃Words；　more　tricky　words！〃
　〃I　do　not　suffer　from　being　worshipped；　Siona。　I　suffer　from　never　being　appreciated。　Perhaps　。。。No；　I　dare　not　hope　for　you。〃
　〃What's　the　purpose　of　those　journals？〃
　〃An　Ixian　machine　records　them。　They　are。　to　be　found　on　a　faraway　day。