fh.godemperorofdune-第80部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　〃What's　the　purpose　of　those　journals？〃
　〃An　Ixian　machine　records　them。　They　are。　to　be　found　on　a　faraway　day。　They　will　make　people　think。〃
　〃An　Ixian　machine？　You　defy　the　Jihad！〃
　〃There's　a　lesson　in　that；　too。　What　do　such　machines　really　do？　They　increase　the　number　of　things　we　can　do　without　thinking。　Things　we　do　without　thinking…there's　the　real　danger。　Look　at　how　long　you　walked　across　this　desert　without　thinking　about　your　face　mask。〃
　〃You　could　have　warned　me！〃
　〃And　increased　your　dependency。〃
　She　stared　at　him　a　moment；　then：　〃Why　would　you　want　me　to　mand　your　Fish　Speakers？〃
　〃You　are　an　Atreides　woman；　resourceful　and　capable　of　independent　thought。　You　can　be　truthful　just　for　the　sake　of　truth　as　you　see　it。　You　were　bred　and　trained　for　mand　which　means　freedom　from　dependence。〃
　The　wind　whirled　dust　and　sand　around　them　while　she　weighed　his　words。　〃And　if　I　agree；　you'll　save　me？〃
　〃No。〃
　She　had　been　so　sure　of　the　opposite　answer　that　it　was　several　heartbeats　before　she　translated　that　single　word。　In　that　time；　the　wind　fell　slightly；　exposing　a　vista　across　the　dunescape　to　the　remnants　of　Habbanya　Ridge。　The　air　was　suddenly　chilled　with　that　cold　which　did　as　much　to　rob　the　flesh　of　moisture　as　did　the　hottest　sunlight。　Part　of　Leto's　awareness　detected　an　oscillation　in　weather　control。
　〃No？〃　She　was　both　puzzled　and　outraged。
　〃I　do　not　make　bloody　bargains　with　people　I　must　trust。〃
　She　shook　her　head　slowly　from　side　to　side；　but　her　gaze　remained　fixed　on　his　face。　〃What　will　make　you　save　me？〃
　〃Nothing　will　make　me　do　it。　Why　do　you　think　you　could　do　to　me　what　I　will　not　do　to　you？　That　is　not　the　way　of　interdependence。〃
　Her　shoulders　slumped。　〃If　I　cannot　bargain　with　you　or　force　you。　。　。〃
　〃Then　you　must　choose　another　path。〃
　What　a　marvelous　thing　to　observe　the　explosive　growth　of　awareness；　he　thought。　Siona's　expressive　features　hid　nothing　of　it　from　him。　She　focused　on　his　eyes　and　glared　at　him　as　though　seeking　to　move　pletely　into　his　thoughts。　New　strength　entered　her　muffled　voice。
　〃You　would　have　me　know　everything　about　you…even　every　weakness？〃
　〃Would　you　steal　what　I　would　give　openly？〃
　The　morning　light　was　harsh　on　her　face。　〃I　promise　you　nothing！〃
　〃Nor　do　I　require　that。〃
　〃But　you　will　give　me。。。water　if　I　ask？〃
　〃It　is　not　just　water。〃
　She　nodded。　〃And　I　am　Atreides。〃
　The　Fish　Speakers　had　not　withheld　the　lesson　of　that　special　susceptibility　in　the　Atreides　genes。　She　knew　where　the　spice　originated　and　what　it　might　do　to　her。　The　teachers　in　the　Fish　Speaker　schools　never　failed　him。　And　the　gentle　additions　of　melange　in　Siona's　dried　food　had　done　their　work；　too。
　〃These　little　curled　flaps　beside　my　face；〃　he　said。　〃Tease　one　of　them　gently　with　a　finger　and　it　will　give　up　drops　of　moisture　heavily　laced　with　spice…essence。〃
　He　saw　the　recognition　in　her　eyes。　Memories　which　she　did　not　know　as　memories　were　speaking　to　her。　And　she　was　the　result　of　many　generations　in　which　the　Atreides　sensitivity　had　been　increased。
　Even　the　urgency　of　her　thirst　would　not　yet　move　her。
　To　ease　her　through　the　crisis；　he　told　her　about　Fremen　children　poling　for　sandtrout　at　an　oasis　edge；　teasing　the　moisture　out　of　them　for　quick　vitalization。
　〃But　I　am　Atreides；〃　she　said。
　〃The　Oral　History　tells　it　truthfully；〃　he　said。
　〃Then　I　could　die　of　it。〃
　〃That's　the　test。〃
　〃You　would　make　a　real　Fremen　out　of　me！〃
　〃How　else　can　you　teach　your　descendants　to　survive　here　after　I　am　gone？〃
　She　pulled　away　her　mask　and　moved　her　face　to　within　a　handsbreadth　of　his。　A　finger　came　up　and　touched　one　of　the　curled　flaps　of　his　cowl。
　〃Stroke　it　gently；〃　he　said。
　Her　hand　obeyed　not　his　voice　but　something　from　within　her。　The　finger　movements　were　precise；　eliciting　his　own　memories；　a　thing　passed　from　child　to　child　to　child。。。the　way　so　much　information　and　misinformation　survived。　He　turned　his　face　to　its　limit　and　looked　sideways　at　her　face　so　close　to　his。　Pale　blue　drops　began　to　form　at　the　flap's　edge。　Rich　cinnamon　smells　enveloped　them。　She　leaned　toward　the　drops。　He　saw　the　pores　beside　her　nose；　the　way　her　tongue　moved　as　she　drank。
　Presently；　she　retreated…not　pletely　satisfied；　but　driven　by　caution　and　suspicion　much　the　way　Moneo　had　been。　Like　father；　like　daughter。
　〃How　long　before　it　begins　to　work？〃　she　asked。
　〃It　is　already　working。〃
　〃I　mean。　。　。〃
　〃A　minute　or　so。〃
　〃I　owe　you　nothing　for　this！〃
　〃I　will　demand　no　payment。〃
　She　sealed　her　face　mask。
　He　saw　the　milky　distances　enter　her　eyes。　Without　asking　permission；　she　tapped　his　front　segment；　demanding　that　he　prepare　the　warm　hammock　of　his　flesh。　He　obeyed。　She　fitted　herself　to　the　gentle　curve。　By　peering　sharply　downward；　he　could　see　her。　Siona's　eyes　remained　opened；　but　they　no　longer　saw　this　place。　She　jerked　abruptly　and　began　to　tremble　like　a　small　creature　dying。　He　knew　this　experience；　but　could　not　change　the　smallest　part　of　it。　No　ancestral　presences　would　remain　in　her　consciousness；　but　she　would　carry　with　her　forever　afterward　the　clear　sights　and　sounds　and　smells。　The　seeking　machines　would　be　there；　the　smell　of　blood　and　entrails；　the　cowering　humans　in　their　burrows　aware　only　that　they　could　not　escape。。。while　all　the　time　the　mechanical　movement　approached；　nearer　and　nearer　and　nearer　。。。louder。。。louder！
　Everywhere　she　searched；　it　would　be　the　same。　No　escape　anywhere。
　He　felt　her　life　ebbing。　Fight　the　darkness；　Siona！　That　was　one　thing　the　Atreides　did。　They　fought　for　life。　And　now　she　was　fighting　for　lives　other　than　her　own。　He　felt　the　dimming；　though。。。the　terrible　outflow　of　vitality。　She　went　deeper　and　deeper　into　the　darkness；　far　deeper　than　any　other　had　ever　gone。　He　began　to　rock　her　gently；　a　cradle　movement　of　his　front　segment。　That　or　the　thin　hot　thread　of　determination；　perhaps　both　together；　prevailed。　By　early　afternoon；　her　flesh　had　trembled　its　way　into　something　approaching　real　sleep。　Only　an　occasional　gasp　betrayed　the　vision's　echoes。　He　rocked　her　gently；　rolling　from　side　to　side。
　Could　she　possibly　e　back　from　those　depths？　He　felt　the　vital　responses　reassuring　him。　The　strength　in　her！
　She　awakened　in　the　late　afternoon；　a　stillness　ing　over　her　abruptly；　the　breathing　rhythm　changed。　Her　eyes　snapped　open。　She　peered　up　at　him；　then　rolled　out　of　the　hammock　to　stand　with　her　back　to　him　for　almost　an　hour　of　silent　thinking。
　Moneo　had　done　that　same　thing。　It　was　a　new　pattern　in　these　Atreides。　Some　of　the　preceding　ones　had　ranted　at　him。　Others　had　backed　away　from　him；　stumbling　and　staring；　forcing　him　to　follow；　squirming　and　grating　over　the　pebbles。　Some　of　them　had　squatted　and　stared　at　the　ground。　None　of　them　had　turned　their　backs　on　him。　Leto　took　this　new　development　as　a　hopeful　sign。
　〃You　are　beginning　to　have　some　concept　of　how　far　my　family　extends；〃　he　said。
　She　turned；　her　mouth　a　prim　line；　but　did　not　meet　his　gaze。　He　could　see　her　accepting　it；　though；　the　realization　which　few　humans　could　share　as　she　had　shared　it：　His　singular　multitude　made　all　of　humankind　his　family。
　〃You　could　have　saved　my　friends　in　the　forest；〃　she　accused。
　〃You；　too；　could　have　saved　them。〃
　She　clenched　her　fists　and　pressed　them　against　her　temples　while　she　glared　at　him。　〃But　you　know　everything！〃
　〃Siona！〃
　〃Did　I　have　to　learn　it　that　way？〃　she　whispered。
　He　remained　silent；　forcing　her　to　answer　the　question　for　herself。　She　had　to　be　made　to　recognize　that　his　primary　consciousness　worked　in　a　Fremen　way　and　that；　like　the　terrible　machines　of　that　apocalyptic　vision；　the　predator　could　follow　any　creature　who　left　tracks。
　〃The　Golden　Path；〃　she　whispered。　〃I　can　feel　it。〃　Then；　glaring　at　him。　〃It's　so　cruel！〃
　〃Survival　has　always　been　cruel。〃
　〃They　couldn't　hide；〃　she　whispered。　Then　loud：　〃What　have　you　done　to　me？〃
　〃You　tried　to　be　a　Fremen　rebel；〃　he　said。　〃Fremen　had　an　almost　incredible　ability　to　read　signs　on　the　desert。　They　could　even　read　the　faint　tracery　of　windblown　tracks　in　sand。〃
　He　saw　the　beginnings　of　remorse　in　her；　memor