fh.godemperorofdune-第63部分

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t　e。
　〃Religious　institutions　perpetuate　a　mortal　master…servant　relationship；〃　Leto　said。　〃They　create　an　arena　which　attracts　prideful　human　power…seekers　with　all　of　their　nearsighted　prejudices！〃
　Moneo　could　only　nod。　Was　that　a　trembling　in　the　God　Emperor's　hands？　Was　the　terrible　face　withdrawing　slightly　into　its　cowl？
　〃The　secret　revelations　of　infamy；　that　is　what　the　Duncans　ask　after；〃　Leto　said。　〃The　Duncans　have　too　much　passion　for　their　fellows　and　too　sharp　a　limit　on　fellowship。〃
　Moneo　had　studied　holos　of　Dune's　ancient　sandworms；　the　gigantic　mouths　full　of　crysknife　teeth　around　consuming　fire。　He　noted　the　tumescence　of　the　latent　rings　on　Leto's　tubular　surface。　Were　they　more　prominent？　Would　a　new　mouth　open　below　that　cowled　face？
　〃The　Duncans　know　in　their　hearts；〃　Leto　said；　〃that　I　have　deliberately　ignored　the　admonition　of　Mohammed　and　Moses。　Even　you　know　it；　Moneo！〃
　It　was　an　accusation。　Moneo　started　to　nod；　then　shook　his　head　from　side　to　side。　He　wondered　if　he　dared　renew　his　retreat。　Moneo　knew　from　experience　that　lectures　in　this　tenor　did　not　long　continue　without　the　ing　of　the　Worm。
　〃What　might　that　admonition　be？〃　Leto　asked。　There　was　a　mocking　lightness　in　his　voice。
　Moneo　allowed　himself　a　faint　shrug。
　Abruptly；　Leto's　voice　filled　the　chamber　with　a　rumbling　baritone；　an　ancient　voice　which　spoke　across　the　centuries：　〃You　are　servants　unto　God；　not　servants　unto　servants！〃
　Moneo　wrung　his　hands　and　cried　out：　〃I　serve　you；　Lord！〃
　〃Moneo；　Moneo；〃　Leto　said；　his　voice　low　and　resonant；　〃a　million　wrongs　cannot　give　rise　to　one　right。　The　right　is　known　because　it　endures。〃
　Moneo　could　only　stand　in　trembling　silence。
　〃I　had　intended　Hwi　to　mate　with　you；　Moneo；〃　Leto　said。　〃Now；　it　is　too　late。〃
　The　words　took　a　moment　penetrating　Moneo's　consciousness。　He　felt　that　their　meaning　was　out　of　any　known　context。　Hwi？　Who　was　Hwi？　Oh；　yes…the　God　Emperor's　Ixian　bride…to…be。　Mate。。。with　me？
　Moneo　shook　his　head。
　Leto　spoke　with　infinite　sadness：　〃You；　too；　shall　pass　away。
　Will　all　your　works　be　as　dust　forgotten？〃
　Without　any　warning；　even　as　he　spoke；　Leto's　body　convulsed　in　a　thrashing　roll　which　heaved　him　from　the　cart。　The　speed　of　it；　the　monstrous　violence；　threw　him　within　centimeters　of　Moneo；　who　screamed　and　fled　across　the　crypt。
　〃Moneo！〃
　Leto's　call　stopped　the　majordomo　at　the　entrance　to　the　lift。
　〃The　test；　Moneo！　I　will　test　Siona　tomorrow！〃
　
　The　realization　of　what　I　am　occurs　in　the　timeless　awareness　which　does　not　stimulate　nor　delude。　I　create　a　field　without　self　or　center；　a　field　where　even　death　bees　only　analogy。　I　desire　no　results。　I　merely　permit　this　field　which　has　no　goals　nor　desires；　no　perfections　nor　even　visions　of　achievements。　In　that　field；　omnipresent　primal　awareness　is　all。　It　is　the　light　which　pours　through　the　windows　of　my　universe。
　…The　Stolen　Journals
　THE　SUN　came　up；　sending　its　harsh　glare　across　the　dunes。　Leto　felt　the　sand　beneath　him　as　a　soft　caress。　Only　his　human　ears；　hearing　the　abrasive　rasp　of　his　heavy　body；　reported　otherwise。　It　was　a　sensory　conflict　which　he　had　learned　to　accept。
　He　heard　Siona　walking　behind　him；　a　lightness　in　her　tread；　a　gentle　spilling　of　sand　as　she　climbed　to　his　level　atop　a　dune。
　The　longer　I　endure；　the　more　vulnerable　I　bee；　he　thought。
　This　thought　often　occurred　to　him　these　days　when　he　went　into　his　desert。　He　peered　upward。　The　sky　was　cloudless　with　a　blue　density　which　the　old　days　of　Dune　had　never　seen。
　What　was　a　desert　without　a　cloudless　sky？　Too　bad　it　could　not　have　Dune's　silvery　hue。
　Ixian　satellites　controlled　this　sky；　not　always　to　the　perfection　he　might　desire。　Such　perfection　was　a　machine…fantasy　which　faltered　under　human　management。　Still；　the　satellites　held　a　sufficiently　steady　grip　to　give　him　this　morning　of　desert　stillness。　He　gave　his　human　lungs　a　deep　breath　of　it　and　listened　for　Siona's　approach。　She　had　stopped。　He　knew　she　was　admiring　the　view。
　Leto　felt　his　imagination　like　a　conjurer　calling　up　everything　which　had　produced　the　physical　setting　for　this　moment。　He　felt　the　satellites。　Fine　instruments　which　played　the　music　for　the　dance　of　warming　and　cooling　air　masses；　perpetually　monitoring　and　adjusting　the　powerful　vertical　and　horizontal　currents。　It　amused　him　to　recall　that　the　lxians　had　thought　he　would　use　this　exquisite　machinery　in　a　new　kind　of　hydraulic　despotism…withholding　moisture　from　those　who　defied　their　ruler；　punishing　others　with　terrible　storms。　How　surprised　they　had　been　to　f…and　themselves　mistaken！
　My　controls　are　more　subtle。
　Slowly；　gently；　he　began　to　move；　swimming　on　the　sand　surface；　gliding　down　off　the　dune；　never　once　looking　back　at　the　thin　spire　of　his　tower；　knowing　that　it　would　vanish　presently　into　the　haze　of　daytime　heat。
　Siona　followed　him　with　an　uncharacteristic　docility。　Doubt　had　done　its　work。　She　had　read　the　stolen　journals。　She　had　listened　to　the　admonitions　of　her　father。　Now；　she　did　not　know　what　to　think。
　〃What　is　this　test？〃　she　had　asked　Moneo。　〃What　will　he　do？〃
　〃It　is　never　the　same。〃
　〃How　did　he　test　you？〃
　〃It　will　be　different　with　you。　I　would　only　confuse　you　if　I　told　you　my　experience。〃
　Leto　had　listened　secretly　while　Moneo　prepared　his　daughter；　dressing　her　in　an　authentic　Fremen　stillsuit　with　a　dark　robe　over　it；　fitting　the　boot…pumps　correctly。　Moneo　had　not　forgotten。
　Moneo　had　looked　up　from　where　he　bent　to　adjust　her　boots。　〃The　Worm　will　e。　That　is　all　I　can　tell　you。　You　must　find　a　way　to　live　in　the　presence　of　the　Worm。〃
　He　had　stood　then；　explaining　about　the　stillsuit；　how　it　recycled　her　body's　own　waters。　He　made　her　pull　the　tube　from　a　catchpocket　and　suck　on　it；　then　reseal　the　tube。
　〃You　will　be　alone　with　him　on　the　desert；〃　Moneo　had　said。　〃Shai…Hulud　is　never　far　away　when　you're　on　the　desert。〃
　〃What　if　I　refuse　to　go？〃　she　asked。
　〃You　will　go。。。but　you　may　not　return。〃
　This　conversation　had　occurred　in　the　ground…level　chamber　of　the　Little　Citadel　while　Leto　waited　in　the　aerie。　He　had　e　down　when　he　knew　Siona　was　ready；　drifting　down　in　the　predawn　darkness　on　his　cart's　suspensors。　The　cart　had　gone　into　the　ground　level　room　after　Moneo　and　Siona　emerged。　While　Moneo　marched　across…the　flat　ground　to　his　'thopter　and　left　in　a　whispering　of　wings；　Leto　had　required　Siona　to　test　the　sealed　portal　of　the　ground…level　chamber；　then　look　upward　at　the　tower's　impossible　heights。
　〃The　only　way　out　is　across　the　Sareer；〃　he　said。
　He　led　her　away　from　the　tower　then；　not　even　manding　her　to　follow；　depending　on　her　good　sense；　her　curiosity　and　her　doubts。
　Leto's　swimming　progress　took　him　down　the　dune's　slipface　and　onto　an　exposed　section　of　the　rocky　basement　plex；　then　up　another　sandy　face　at　a　shallow　angle；　creating　a　path　for　Siona　to　follow。　Fremen　had　called　such　pression　tracks　〃God's　gift　to　the　weary。〃　He　moved　slowly；　giving　Siona　plenty　of　time　in　which　to　recognize　that　this　was　his　domain；　his　natural　habitat。
　He　came　out　atop　another　dune　and　turned　to　watch　her　progress。　She　held　to　the　track　he　had　provided　and　stopped　only　when　she　reached　the　top。　Her　glance　went　once　to　his　face　then　she　turned　a　full　circle　to　examine　the　horizon。　He　heard　the　sharp　intake　of　her　breath。　Heat　haze　hid　the　spire's　top。　The　base　might　have　been　a　distant　outcropping。
　〃This　is　how　it　was；〃　he　said。
　There　was　something　about　the　desert　which　spoke　to　the　eternal　soul　of　people　who　possessed　Fremen　blood；　he　knew。　He　had　chosen　this　place　for　its　desert　impact…a　dune　slightly　higher　than　the　others。
　〃Take　a　good　look　at　it；〃　he　said；　and　he　slipped　down　the　dune's　other　side　to　remove　his　bulk　from　her　view。
　Siona　took　one　more　slow　turn；　looking　outward。
　Leto　knew　the　innermost　sensation　of　what　she　saw。　Except　for　that　insignificant；　blurred　blip　of　his　tower's　base；　there　was　not　the　slightest　lift　of　horizon…flat；　everywhere　flat。　No　plants；　no　living　movement。　From　her　vantage；　there　was　a　limit　of　approximately　eight　kilometers　to　the　line　where　the　planet's　curvature　hid　everything　beyond。
　Leto　spoke　from　where　he　had　stopped；　just　below　the　dune's　crest。　〃This　is　the　real　Sareer。　You　only　know　it　when　you're　down　here　afoot。　This　is　all　that's　left　of　the　bahr　bela　ma。〃
　〃The　ocean　without　water；〃　she　whispered。
　Again；　she　turned　and　examined　the　entire　horizon。
　There　was　no　wind　and；　Leto　knew；　without　wind；　the　silence　ate　at　the　human　soul。　Siona　was　feeling　the　loss　of　all　familiar　reference　points。　She　was　abandoned　in　dangerous　space。
　Leto　glanced　at　the　next　dune。　In　that　direction；　they　would　e　presently　to　a　low　line　of　hills　which　originally　had　been　mountains　but　now　were　broken　into　remnant　slag　and　rubble。　He　continued　to　rest　quietly；　letting　the　silence　do　his　work　for　him。　It　was　even　pleasant　to　imagine　that　these　dunes　went　on；　as　they　once　had；　without　end　pletely　around　the　planet。　But　even　these　few　dunes　were　degenerating。　Without　the　original　Coriolis　storms　of　Dune；　the　Sareer　saw　nothing　stronger　than　a　stiff　breeze　and　occasional　heat　vortices　which