fh.godemperorofdune-第3部分

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；　struggling　to　swim　and　regain　her　breath。　The　precious　kit　floated　and　bumped　against　the　back　of　her　head。
　The　Idaho　River　was　not　wide　here；　no　more　than　fifty　meters；　a　gently　sweeping　curve　with　sandy　indentations　fringed　by　roots　and　shelving　banks　of　lush　reeds　and　grass　where　the　water　refused　to　stay　in　the　straight　lines　Leto's　engineers　had　designed。　Siona　was　strengthened　by　the　knowledge　that　the　D…wolves　had　been　conditioned　to　stop　at　the　water。　Their　territorial　boundaries　had　been　drawn；　the　river　on　this　side　and　the　desert　wall　on　the　other　side。　Still；　she　swam　the　last　few　meters　underwater　and　surfaced　in　the　shadows　of　a　cutbank　before　turning　and　looking　back。
　The　wolf　pack　stood　ranged　along　the　bank；　all　except　one　which　had　e　down　to　the　river's　edge。　It　leaned　forward　with　its　forefeet　almost　into　the　flow。　She　heard　it　whine。
　Siona　knew　the　wolf　saw　her。　No　doubt　of　that。　D…wolves　were　noted　for　their　keen　eyesight。　There　were　Gaze　Hounds　in　the　ancestry　of　Leto's　forest　guardians　and　he　bred　the　wolves　for　their　eyesight。　She　wondered　if　this　once　the　wolves　might　break　through　their　conditioning。　They　were　mostly　sight…hunters。　If　that　one　wolf　at　the　river's　edge　should　enter　the　water；　all　might　follow。　Siona　held　her　breath。　She　felt　the　dragging　of　exhaustion。　They　had　e　almost　thirty　kilometers；　the　last　half　of　it　with　the　D…wolves　close　behind。
　The　wolf　at　the　river's　edge　whined　once　more　then　leaped　back　up　to　its　panions。　At　some　silent　signal；　they　turned　and　loped　back　into　the　forest。
　Siona　knew　where　they　would　go。　D…wolves　were　allowed　to　eat　anything　they　brought　down　in　the　Forbidden　Forest。　Everyone　knew　this。　It　was　why　the　wolves　roamed　the　forest　the　guardians　of　the　Sareer。
　〃You'll　pay　for　this；　Leto；〃　she　whispered。　It　was　a　low　sound；　her　voice；　very　close　to　the　quiet　rustling　of　the　water　against　the　reeds　just　behind　her。　〃You'll　pay　for　Ulot；　for　Kwuteg　and　for　all　the　others。　You'll　pay。〃
　She　pushed　outward　gently　and　drifted　with　the　current　until　her　feet　met　the　first　shelving　of　a　narrow　beach。　Slowly；　her　body　dragged　down　by　fatigue；　she　climbed　from　the　water　and　paused　to　check　that　the　sealed　contents　of　her　kit　had　remained　dry。　The　seal　was　unbroken。　She　stared　at　it　a　moment　in　the　moonlight；　then　lifted　her　gaze　to　the　forest　wall　across　the　river。
　The　price　we　paid。　Ten　dear　friends。
　Tears　glimmered　in　her　eyes；　but　she　had　the　stuff　of　the　ancient　Fremen　and　her　tears　were　few。　The　venture　across　the　river；　directly　through　the　forest　while　the　wolves　patrolled　the　northern　boundaries；　then　across　the　Last　Desert　of　the　Sareer　and　over　the　Citadel's　ramparts…all　of　this　already　was　assuming　dream　proportions　in　her　mind。。。even　the　flight　from　the　wolves　which　she　had　anticipated　because　it　was　a　certainty　that　the　guardian　pack　would　cross　the　track　of　the　invaders　and　be　waiting。。。all　a　dream。　It　was　the　past。
　I　escaped。
　She　restored　the　kit　with　its　sealed　packet　and　fastened　it　once　more　against　her　back。
　I　have　broken　through　your　defenses；　Leto。
　Siona　thought　then　about　the　cryptic　volumes。　She　felt　certain　that　something　hidden　in　those　lines　of　cipher　would　open　the　way　for　her　revenge。
　I　will　destroy　you；　Leto！
　Not　We　will　destroy　you！　That　was　not　Siona's　way。　She　would　do　it　herself。
　She　turned　and　strode　toward　the　orchards　beyond　the　river's　mowed　border。　As　she　walked　she　repeated　her　oath；　adding　to　it　aloud　the　old　Fremen　formula　which　terminated　in　her　full　name：
　〃Siona　Ibn　Fuad　al…Seyefa　Atreides　it　is　who　curses　you；　Leto。　You　will　pay　in　full！〃
　
　The　following　is　from　the　Hadi　Benotto　translation　of　the　volumes　discovered　at　Dar…es…Balat：
　I　WAS　born　Leto　Atreides　II　more　than　three　thousand　standard　years　ago；　measuring　from　the　moment　when　I　cause　these　words　to　be　printed。　My　father　was　Paul　Muad'Dib。　My　mother　was　his　Fremen　consort；　Chani。　My　maternal　grandmother　was　Faroula；　a　noted　herbalist　among　the　Fremen。　My　paternal　grandmother　was　Jessica；　a　product　of　the　Bene　Gesserit　breeding　scheme　in　their　search　for　a　male　who　could　share　the　powers　of　the　Sisterhood's　Reverend　Mothers。　My　maternal　grandfather　was　Liet…Kynes；　the　planetologist　who　organized　the　ecological　transformation　of　Arrakis。　My　paternal　grandfather　was　Leto　Atreides；　descendant　of　the　House　of　Atreus　and　tracing　his　ancestry　directly　back　to　the　Greek　original。
　Enough　of　these　begats！
　My　paternal　grandfather　died　as　many　good　Greeks　did；　attempting　to　kill　his　mortal　enemy；　the　old　Baron　Vladimir　Harkonnen。　Both　of　them　rest　unfortably　now　in　my　ancestral　memories。　Even　my　father　is　not　content。　I　have　done　what　he　feared　to　do　and　now　his　shade　must　share　in　the　consequences。
　The　Golden　Path　demands　it。　And　what　is　the　Golden　Path？　you　ask。　It　is　the　survival　of　humankind；　nothing　more　nor　less。　We　who　have　prescience；　we　who　know　the　pitfalls　in　our　human　futures；　this　has　always　been　our　responsibility。
　Survival。
　How　you　feel　about　this…your　petty　woes　and　joys；　even　your　agonies　and　raptures…seldom　concerns　us。　My　father　had　this　power。　I　have　it　stronger。　We　can　peer　now　and　again　through　the　veils　of　Time。
　This　planet　of　Arrakis　from　which　I　direct　my　multigalactic　Empire　is　no　longer　what　it　was　in　the　days　when　it　was　known　as　Dune。　In　those　days；　the　entire　planet　was　a　desert。　Now；　there　is　just　this　little　remnant；　my　Sareer。　No　longer　does　the　giant　sandworm　roam　free；　producing　the　spice　mйlange。　The　spice！　Dune　was　noteworthy　only　as　the　source　of　melange；　the　only　。source。　What　an　extraordinary　substance。　No　laboratory　has　ever　been　able　to　duplicate　it。　And　it　is　the　most　valuable　substance　humankind　has　ever　found。
　Without　melange　to　ignite　the　linear　prescience　of　Guild　Navigators；　people　cross　the　parsecs　of　space　only　at　a　snail's　crawl。　Without　melange；　the　Bene　Gesserit　cannot　endow　Truthsayers　or　Reverend　Mothers。　Without　the　geriatric　properties　of　melange；　people　live　and　die　according　to　the　ancient　measure…no　more　than　a　hundred　years　or　so。　Now；　the　only　spice　is　held　in　Guild　and　Bene　Gesserit　storehouses；　a　few　small　hoards　among　the　remnants　of　the　Great　Houses；　and　my　gigantic　hoard　which　they　all　covet。　How　they　would　like　to　raid　me！　But　they　don't　dare。　They　know　I　would　destroy　it　all　before　surrendering　it。
　No　They　e　hat　in　hand　and　petition　me　for　melange。　I　dole　it　out　as　a　reward　and　hold　it　back　as　punishment。　How　they　hate　that。
　It　is　my　power；　I　tell　them。　It　is　my　gift。
　With　it；　I　create　Peace。　They　have　had　more　than　three　thousand　years　of　Leto's　Peace。　It　is　an　enforced　tranquility　which　humankind　knew　only　for　the　briefest　periods　before　my　ascendancy。　Lest　you　have　forgotten；　study　Leto's　Peace　once　more　in　these；　my　journals。
　I　began　this　account　in　the　first　year　of　my　stewardship；　in　the　first　throes　of　my　metamorphosis　when　I　was　still　mostly　human；　even　visibly　so。　The　sandtrout　skin　which　I　accepted　（and　my　father　refused）　and　which　gave　me　greatly　amplified　strength　plus　virtual　immunity　from　conventional　attack　and　aging…that　skin　still　covered　a　form　recognizably　human：　two　legs；　two　arms；　a　human　face　framed　in　the　scrolled　folds　of　the　sandtrout。
　Ahhh；　that　face！　I　still　have　it…the　only　human　skin　I　expose　to　the　universe。　All　the　rest　of　my　flesh　has　remained　covered　by　the　linked　bodies　of　those　tiny　deep　sand　vectors　which　one　day　can　bee　giant　sandworms。
　As　they　will。。。someday。
　I　often　think　about　my　final　metamorphosis；　that　likeness　of　death。　I　know　the　way　it　must　e　but　I　do　not　know　the　moment　or　the　other　players。　This　is　the　one　thing　I　cannot　know。　I　only　know　whether　the　Golden　Path　continues　or　ends。
　As　I　cause　these　words　to　be　recorded；　the　Golden　Path　continues　and　for　that；　at　least；　I　am　content。
　I　no　longer　feel　the　sandtrout　cilia　probing　my　flesh；　encapsulating　the　water　of　my　body　within　their　placental　barriers。　We　are　virtually　one　body　now；　they　my　skin　and　I　the　force　which　moves　the　whole。。。most　of　the　time。
　At　this　writing；　the　whole　could　be　considered　rather　gross。　I　am　what　could　be　called　a　pre…worm。　My　body　is　about　seven　meters　long　and　somewhat　more　than　two　meters　in　diameter；　ribbed　for　most　of　its　length；　with　my　Atreides　face　positioned　man…height　at　one　end；　the　arms　and　hands　（still　quite　recognizable　as　human）　just　below。　My　legs　and　feet？　Well；　they　are　mostly　atrophied。　Just　flippers；　really；　and　they　have　wandered　back　along　my　body。　The　whole　of　me　weighs　approximately　five　old　tons。　These　items　I　append　because　I　know　they　will　have　historical　interest。
　How　do　I　carry　this　weight　around？　Mostly　on　my　Royal　Cart；　which　is　of　Ixian　manufacture。　You　are　shocked？　People　invariably　hated　and　feared　the　Ixians　even　more　than　they　hated　and　feared　me。　Better　the　devil　you　know。　And　who　knows　what　the　Ixians　might　manufacture　or　invent？　Who　knows？
　I　certainly　don't。　Not　all　of　it。
　But　I　have　a　certain　sympathy　for　the　Ixians。　They　believe　so　strongly　in　their　technology；　their　science；　their　machines。　Because　we　believe　（no　matter　the　content）　we　understand　each　other；　the　Ixians　and　I。　They　make　many　devices　for　me　and　think　they　earn　my　gratitude　thus。