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Book One: Dune

           

           ItreadsliketheAzharBook,shethought,recallingherstudiesoftheGreatSecrets.HasaManipulatorofReligionsbeenonArrakis?

           Paulliftedtheparacompassfromthepack,returnedit,said:“Thinkofallthesespecial-applicationFremenmachines.Theyshowunrivaledsophistication.

           Admitit.Theculturethatmadethesethingsbetraysdepthsnoonesuspected.”

           Hesitating,stillworriedbytheharshnessinhisvoice,Jessicareturnedtothebook,studiedanillustratedconstellationfromtheArrakeensky:“Muad’Dib:TheMouse,”andnotedthatthetailpointednorth.

           Paulstaredintothetent’sdarknessatthedimlydiscernedmovementsofhismotherrevealedbythemanual’sglowtab.Nowisthetimetocarryoutmyfather’swish,hethought.Imustgiveherhismessagenowwhileshehastimeforgrief.Griefwouldinconvenienceuslater.Andhefoundhimselfshockedbypreciselogic.

           “Mother,”hesaid.

           “Yes?”

           Sheheardthechangeinhisvoice,feltcoldnessinherentrailsatthesound.

           Neverhadsheheardsuchharshcontrol.

           “Myfatherisdead,”hesaid.

           ShesearchedwithinherselfforthecouplingoffactandfactandfacttheBeneGesseritwayofassessingdataanditcametoher:thesensationofterrifyingloss.

           Jessicanodded,unabletospeak.

           “Myfatherchargedmeonce,”Paulsaid,“togiveyouamessageifanythinghappenedtohim.Hefearedyoumightbelievehedistrustedyou.”

           Thatuselesssuspicion,shethought.

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