T̲h̲i̲s̲ s̲e̲c̲r̲e̲t̲ e̲n̲e̲r̲g̲y̲ g̲r̲i̲d̲ i̲s̲ a̲b̲o̲u̲t̲ t̲o̲ g̲o̲ o̲n̲l̲i̲n̲e̲ 🔋

𝘋𝘖𝘌 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 “𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯”. 𝘉𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮, 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 100% 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴... [Main logotype Expert Modern Advice](   In 1988, Ronald Reagan greenlit the development of a [secret energy grid]( that’s capable of powering our entire nation with 100% clean energy. [𝖵𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗐 / 𝖴𝖲𝖠𝗆𝖺𝗉]( Kinet put a hand on the pilot's arm. Look, Czigo, no need to.... Jessica twisted her neck, spat out the gag. She pitched her voice in low, intimate tones. Gentlemen! No need to fight over me. At the same time, she writhed sinuously for Kinet's benefit. She saw them grow tense, king that in this they were convinced of the need to fight over her. Their disagreement required no other reason. In their minds, they were fighting over her. She held her face high in the instrument glow to be sure Kinet would read her lips, said: You mustn't disagree. They drew farther apart, glanced warily at each other. Is any woman worth fighting over? she asked. By uttering the words, by being t, she made herself infinitely worth their fighting. Paul clamped his lips tightly closed, forced himself to be silent. T had been the one for him to succeed with the Voice. --everything depended on his mother whose experience went so far beyond his own. Yeah, Scarface said. No need to fight over.... His hand flashed toward the pilot's neck. The blow was met by a splash of metal that caught the arm and in the same motion slammed into Kinet's chest. Scarface groaned, sagged backward against his door. Thought I was some dummy didn't k that trick, Czigo said. He brought back his hand, revealing the knife. It glittered in reflected moonlight. for the cub, he said and leaned toward Paul. No need for that, Jessica murmured. Czigo hesitated. Wouldn't you rather have me cooperative? Jessica asked. Give the boy a . Her lip curled in a sneer. Little enough he'd have out t in that sand. Give him that and.... She smiled. You could find yourself well rewarded. Czigo glanced left, right, returned his attention to Jessica. I've heard me what can happen to a man in this desert, he said. Boy might find the knife a kindness. Is it so much I ask? Jessica pleaded. You're trying to trick me, Czigo muttered. I don't want to see my son die, Jessica said. Is that a trick? Czigo moved back, elbowed the door latch. He grabbed Paul, dragged him across the seat, pushed him half out the door and held the knife posed. What'll y' do, cub, if I cut y'r bonds? He'll and head for those rocks, Jessica said. Is that what y'll do, cub? Czigo asked. Paul's voice was properly surly. Yes. The knife moved down, slashed the bindings of his legs. Paul felt the hand on his back to hurl him down onto the sand, feigned a lurch against the doorframe for , turned as though to catch himself, lashed out with his right foot. The toe was aimed with a precision that did to his long years of training, as though of that training focused on this . Almost every muscle of his body cooperated in the placement of it. The tip struck the soft part of Czigo's abdomen just below the sternum, slammed upward with terrible force over the liver and through the diaphragm to crush the right ventricle of the man's heart. With one gurgling scream, the guard jerked backward across the seats. Paul, unable to use his hands, continued his tumble onto the sand, landing with a roll that took up the force and brought him back to his feet in one motion. He dove back into the cabin, found the knife and held it in his teeth while his mother sawed her bonds. She took the blade and d his hands. I could've handled him, she said. He'd have had to cut my bindings. That was a foolish risk. I saw the ing and used it, he said. She heard the harsh control in his voice, said: Yueh's house sign is scrawled on the ceiling of this cabin. He looked up, saw the curling symbol. out and let us study this craft, she said. T's a bundle under the pilot's seat. I felt it when we got in. Bomb? Doubt it. T's something peculiar . Paul leaped out to the sand and Jessica followed. She turned, reached under the seat for the strange bundle, seeing Czigo's feet close to her face, feeling dampness on the bundle as she d it, realizing the dampness was the pilot's blood. Waste of moisture, she thought, king that this was Arrakeen thinking. Paul stared around them, saw the rock scarp ting out of the desert like a beach rising from the sea, wind-carved palisades beyond. He turned back as his mother ted the bundle from the 'thopter, saw her stare across the dunes toward the Shield W. He looked to see what drew her attention, saw another 'thopter swooping toward them, realized they'd not have time to clear the bodies out of this 'thopter and escape. Run, Paul! Jessica shouted. It's Harkonnens! Arrakis teaches the attitude of the knife--chopping what's incomplete and saying: , it's complete because it's ended . --from Collected Sayings of Muad'Dib by the Princess Irulan A MAN in Harkonnen uni skidded to a at the end of the h, stared in at Yueh, taking in at a single glance Mapes' body, the sprawled of the Duke, Yueh standing t. The man held a lasgun in his right hand. T was a casual air of brutality about him, a sense of toughness and poise that sent a shiver through Yueh. Sardaukar, Yueh thought. A Bashar by the look of him. Probably one of the Emperor's own sent to keep an eye on things. No matter what the uni, t's no disguising them. You're Yueh, the man said. He looked speculatively at the Suk School ring on the Doctor's hair, stared once at the diamond tattoo and then met Yueh's eyes. I am Yueh, the Doctor said. You can relax, Yueh, the man said. When you dropped the house shields we came right in. Everything's under control . Is this the Duke? This is the Duke. Dead? Merely unconscious. I suggest you tie him. Did you do for these others? He glanced back down the h w Mapes' body lay. More's the pity, Yueh muttered. Pity! the Sardaukar sneered. He advanced, looked down at Leto. So that's the Red Duke. If I had doubts about what this man is, that would end them, Yueh thought. the Emperor s the Atreides the Red Dukes. The Sardaukar reached down, cut the red hawk insignia from Leto's uni. Little souvenir, he said. W's the ducal si gnet ring? He doesn't have it on him, Yueh said. I can see that! the Sardaukar snapped. Yueh stiffened, swowed. If they press me, bring in a Truthsayer, they'll find out about the ring, about the 'thopter I prepared-- will fail. Sometimes the Duke sent the ring with a messenger as surety that an came directly from him, Yueh said. Must be damned trusted messengers, the Sardaukar muttered. Aren't you going to tie him? Yueh ventured. How long'll he be unconscious? Two hours or so. I wasn't as precise with his dosage as I was for the woman and boy. The Sardaukar spurned the Duke with his toe. This was nothing to fear even when awake. When will the woman and boy awaken? About ten minutes. So ? I was told the Baron would arrive behind his men. So he will. You'll wait outside, Yueh. He shot a hard glance at Yueh. ! Yueh glanced at Leto. What about.... He'll be delivered to the Baron properly trussed like a roast for the oven. Again, the Sardaukar looked at the diamond tattoo on Yueh's forehead. You're kn; you'll be safe enough in the hs. We've no more time for chit-chat, traitor. I hear the others coming. Traitor, Yueh thought. He lowered his gaze, pressed past the Sardaukar, king this as a foretaste of how history would remember him: Yueh the traitor. He passed more bodies on his way to the front entrance and glanced at them, fearful that one might be Paul or Jessica. were house troopers or wore Harkonnen uni. Harkonnen guards came alert, staring at him as he emerged from the front entrance into flame-lighted night. The palms along the road had been fired to illuminate the house. Black smoke from the flammables used to ignite the trees poured upward through orange flames. It's the traitor, someone said. The Baron will want to see you , another said. I must to the 'thopter, Yueh thought. I must put the ducal signet w Paul will find it. And fear struck him: If Idaho suspects me or grows impatient-if he doesn't wait and go exly w I told him--Jessica and Paul will not be d from the carnage. I'll be denied even the smest relief from my . The Harkonnen guard released his arm, said Wait over t out of the way. Abruptly, Yueh saw himself as cast away in this place of destruction, spared nothing, given not the smest pity. Idaho must not fail! Another guard bumped into him, barked: Stay out of the way, you! Even when they've profited by me they despise me. Yueh thought. He straightened himself as he was pushed aside, regained some of his dignity. Nоw, almost 40 years later, that secret grid is about to go online and according to the Department of Energy, could “𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.” Wait for the Baron! a guard icer snarled. Yueh nodded, walked with controlled casualness along the front of the house, turned the corner into shadows out of sight of the burning palms. Quickly, every step betraying his anxiety, Yueh made for the rear yard beneath the conservatory w the 'thopter waited--the craft they had placed t to carry away Paul and his mother. A guard stood at the rear door of the house, his attention focused on the lighted h and men banging through t, searching from room to room. How confident they were! Yueh hugged the shadows, worked his way around the 'thopter, eased the door on the side away from the guard. He felt under the front seats for the Fremkit he had t, lifted a flap and slipped in the ducal signet. He felt the crinkling of the spice paper t, the note he had written, pressed the ring into the paper. He d his hand, resealed the pack. Softly, Yueh closed the 'thopter door, worked his way back to the corner of the house and around toward the flaming trees. , it is done, he thought. Once more, he emerged into the light of the blazing palms. He pulled his cloak around him, stared at the flames. I will k. I will see the Baron and I will k. And the Baron--he will encounter a sm tooth. T is a legend that the the Duke Leto Atreides died a meteor streaked across the skies above his ancestral palace on Caladan. --the Princess Irulan: Introduction to a Child's History of Muad'Dib THE BARON Vladimir Harkonnen stood at a viewport of the grounded lighter he was using as a command post. Out the port he saw the flame-lighted night of Arrakeen. His attention focused on the distant Shield W w his secret weapon was doing its work. Explosive artillery. The guns nibbled at the caves w the Duke's fighting men had retreated for a last-ditch stand. Slowly measured bites of orange glare, showers of rock and dust in the brief illumination--and the Duke's men were being sealed to die by starvation, caught like animals in their burrows. The Baron could feel the distant chomping--a drumbeat carried to him through the ship's metal: broomp... broomp. Then: BROOMP-BROOMP! Who would think of reviving artillery in this day of shields? The thought was a chuckle in his mind. But it was predictable the Duke's men would run for those caves. And the Emperor will appreciate my cleverness in preserving the lives of our mutual force. He adjusted one of the little suspensors that guarded his fat body against the pull of gravity. A smile creased his mouth, pulled at the lines of his jowls. A pity to waste such fighting men as the Duke's, he thought. He smiled more broadly, laughing at himself. Pity should be cruel! He nodded. Failure was, by definition, expendable. The whole universe sat t, to the man who could make the right decisions. The uncertain rabbits had to be exposed, made to run for their burrows. Else how could you control them and breed them? He pictured his fighting men as bees routing the rabbits. And he thought: The day hums sweetly when you have enough bees working . A door ed behind him. The Baron studied the reflection in the night-blackened viewport before turning. Piter de Vries advanced into the chamber followed by Umman Kudu, the captain of the Baron's personal guard. T was a motion of men just outside the door, the mutton faces of his guard, their expressions carefully sheeplike in his presence. The Baron turned. Piter touched finger to forelock in his mocking salute. Good s, m'Lord. The Sardaukar have brought in the Duke. Of course they have, the Baron rumbled. He studied the somber mask of villainy on Piter's effeminate face. And the eyes: those shaded slits of bluest blue-in-blue. I must him, the Baron thought. He has almost outlasted his usefulness, almost reached the point of positive danger to my person. First, though, he must make the people of Arrakis hate him. Then--they will welcome my darling Feyd-Rautha as a savior. The Baron shifted his attention to the guard captain--Umman Kudu: scissors-line of jaw muscles, chin like a boot toe--a man to be trusted because the captain's vices were kn. First, w is the traitor who gave me the Duke? the Baron asked. I must give the traitor his reward. Piter turned on one toe, motioned to the guard outside. A bit of black movement t and Yueh walked through. His motions were stiff and stringy. The mustache drooped beside his purple lips. the old eyes seemed alive. Yueh came to a three paces into the room, obeying a motion from Piter, and stood t staring across the space at the Baron. Ah-h-h, Dr. Yueh. M'Lord Harkonnen. You've given us the Duke, I hear. My half of the , m'Lord. The Baron looked at Piter. Piter nodded. The Baron looked back at Yueh. The letter of the , eh? And I.... He spat the words out: What was I to do in return? You remember quite well, m'Lord Harkonnen. And Yueh owed himself to think , hearing the loud silence of clocks in his mind. He had seen the subtle betrayals in the Baron's manner. Wanna was indeed dead--gone far beyond their reach. Otherwise, t'd still be a hold on the weak doctor. The Baron's manner showed t was no hold; it was ended. Do I? the Baron asked. You d to deliver my Wanna from her agony. The Baron nodded. Oh, yes. , I remember. So I did. That was my . That was how we bent the Imperial Conditioning. You couldn't endure seeing your Bene Gesserit witch grovel in Piter's pain amplifiers. Well, the Baron Vladimir Harkonnen always keeps his s. I told you I'd her from the agony and permit you to join her. So be it. He waved a hand at Piter. Piter's blue eyes took a glazed look. His movement was catlike in its sudden fluidity. The knife in his hand glistened like a claw as it flashed into Yueh's back. The old man stiffened, taking his attention from the Baron. So join her! the Baron spat. Yueh stood, swaying. His lips moved with careful precision, and his voice came in oddly measured cadence: You ... think ... you ... de ... feated ... me. You ... think ... I ... did ... not ... k ... what ... I ... bought ... for ... my ... Wanna. He toppled. No bending or softening. It was like a tree fing. So join her, the Baron repeated. But his words were like a weak echo. Yueh had filled him with a sense of foreboding. He whipped his attention to Piter, watched the man wipe the blade on a scrap of cloth, watched the creamy look of satisf in the blue eyes. So that's how he kills by his own hand, the Baron thought. It's well to k. He did give us the Duke? the Baron asked. Of a certainty, my Lord, Piter said. Then him in ! Piter glanced at the guard captain, who whirled to obey. The Baron looked down at Yueh. From the way the man had fen, you could suspect oak in him instead of bones. I could bring myself to trust a traitor, the Baron said. Not even a traitor I created. He glanced at the night-shrouded viewport. That black bag of stillness out t was his, the Baron k. T was no more crump of artillery against the Shield W caves; the burrow traps were sealed . Quite suddenly, the Baron's mind could conceive of nothing more beautiful than that utter emptiness of black. Unless it were white on the black. Plated white on the bl ack. Porcelain white. But t was still the feeling of doubt. What had the old fool of a doctor meant? Of course, he'd probably kn what would happen to him in the end. But that bit about thinking he'd been defeated: You think you defeated me. What had he meant? The Duke Leto Atreides came through the door. His arms were bound in chains, the eagle face streaked with dirt. His uni was torn w someone had ripped his insignia. T were tatters at his waist w the shield belt had been d without first ing the uni ties. The Duke's eyes held a glazed, insane look. Wel-l-l-l, the Baron said. He hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. He k he had spoken too loudly. This moment, long-envisioned, had lost some of its savor. Damn that cursed doctor through eternity! I believe the good Duke is drugged, Piter said. That's how Yueh caught him for us. Piter turned to the Duke. Aren't you drugged, my dear Duke? The voice was far away. Leto could feel the chains, the ache of muscles, his cracked lips, his burning cheeks, the dry taste of thirst whispering its grit in his mouth. But sounds were dull, by a cottony blanket. And he saw dim shapes through the blanket. What of the woman and the boy, Piter? the Baron asked. Any word yet? Piter's tongue darted over his lips. You've heard something! the Baron snapped. What? Piter glanced at the guard captain, back to the Baron. The men who were sent to do the job, my'Lord--they've ... ah ... been... ah ...found. Well, they report everything satisfory? They're dead, m'Lord. The Imperial Court is, indeed, a long way , Kynes muttered. And he thought: What does this water-soft invader expect? Does he think me fool enough to enlist with him? The Duke chuckled, keeping his attention on their course. I detect a sour note in your voice, sir. We've waded in with our mob of tame killers, eh? And we expect you to realize that we're different from the Harkonnens? I've seen the propaganda you've flooded into sietch and village, Kynes said. 'Love the good Duke!' Your corps of-- ! Heck barked. He snapped his attention away from the window, leaned forward. Paul put a hand on Heck's arm. Gurney! the Duke said. He glanced back. This man's been long under the Harkonnens. Heck sat back. Ayah. Your man Hawat's subtle, Kynes said, but his object's plain enough. Will you those bases to us, then? the Duke asked. Kynes spoke curtly: They're His Majesty's property. They're not being used. They could be used. Does His Majesty concur? Kynes darted a hard stare at the Duke. Arrakis could be an Eden if its rulers would look up from grubbing for spice! He didn't answer my question, the Duke thought. And he said: How is a planet to become an Eden without ? What is , Kynes asked, if it 't the services you need? Ah, ! the Duke thought. And he said: We'll discuss this another time. Right , I believe we're coming to the edge of the Shield W. Do I hold the same course? The same course, Kynes muttered. Paul looked out his window. Beneath them, the broken ground began to drop away in tumbled creases toward a barren rock plain and a knife-edged shelf. Beyond the shelf, fingernail crescents of dunes marched toward the horizon with and t in the distance a dull smudge, a darker blotch to tell of something not sand. Rock outcroppings, perhaps. In the heat-addled air, Paul couldn't be sure. Are t any plants down t? Paul asked. Some, Kynes said. This latitude's -zone has mostly what we minor water stealers--adapted to raiding each other for moisture, gobbling up the trace-dew. Some parts of the desert teem with . But of it has learned how to survive under these rigors. If you caught down t, you imitate that or you die. You mean steal water from each other? Paul asked. The idea outraged him, and his voice betrayed his emotion. It's done, Kynes said, but that wasn't precisely my meaning. You see, my climate demands a special attitude toward water. You are aware of water at times. You waste nothing that contains moisture. And the Duke thought: ... my climate! Come around two degrees more southerly, my Lord, Kynes said. T's a blow coming up from the west. The Duke nodded. He had seen the billowing of tan dust t. He banked the 'thopter around, noting the way the escort's wings reflected milky orange from the dust-refred light as they turned to keep pace with him. This should clear the storm's edge, Kynes said. That sand must be dangerous if you fly into it, Paul said. Will it rey cut the strongest metals? At this altitude, it's not sand but dust, Kynes said. The danger is lack of visibility, turbulence, clogged intakes. We'll see ual spice mining ? Paul asked. Very likely, Kynes said. Paul sat back. He had used the questions and hyperawareness to do what his mother ed registering the person. He had Kynes --tone of voice, each detail of face and gesture. An unnatural folding of the left sleeve on the man's robe told of a knife in an arm sheath. The waist bulged strangely. It was said that desert men wore a belted sash into which they tucked sm necessities. Perhaps the bulges came from such a sash--certainly not from a concealed shield belt. A copper pin engraved with the likeness of a hare clasped the neck of Kynes' robe. Another smer pin with similar likeness hung at the corner of the hood which was thrown back over his shoulders. Heck twisted in the seat beside Paul, reached back into the rear compartment and brought out his baliset. Kynes looked around as Heck tuned the instrument, then returned his attention to their course. What would you like to hear, young Master? Heck asked. You choose, Gurney, Paul said. Heck bent his ear close to the sounding board, strummed a chord and sang softly: Our fathers ate manna in the desert, In the burning places w whirlwinds came. Lord, us from that horrible land! us... oh-h-h-h, us From the dry and thirsty land. Kynes glanced at the Duke, said: You do travel with a light complement of guards, my Lord. Are of them such men of many talents? Gurney? The Duke chuckled. Gurney's one of a kind. I like him with me for his eyes. His eyes miss very little. The planetologist frowned. Without missing a beat in his tune, Heck interposed: For I am like an owl of the desert, o! Aiyah! am like an owl of the des-ert! The Duke reached down, brought up a microphone from the instrument panel, thumbed it to , said: Leader to Escort Gemma. Flying object at nine o'clock, Sector B. Do you identify it? It's merely a bird, Kynes said, and added: You have sharp eyes. The panel speaker crackled, then: Escort Gemma. Object examined under full amplification. It's a large bird. Paul looked in the indicated direction, saw the distant speck: a dot of intermittent motion, and realized how keyed up his father must be. Every sense was at full alert. I'd not realized t were birds that large this far into the desert, the Duke said. That's likely an eagle, Kynes said. Many creatures have adapted to this place. The ornithopter swept over a bare rock plain. Paul looked down from their two thousand meters' altitude, saw the wrinkled shadow of their craft and escort. The land beneath seemed flat, but shadow wrinkles said otherwise. Has anyone ever walked out of the desert? the Duke asked. Heck's music ped. He leaned forward to catch the answer. Not from the deep desert, Kynes said. Men have walked out of the second zone several times. They've survived by crossing the rock areas w worms seldom go. The timbre of Kynes' voice held Paul's attention. He felt his sense come alert the way they were trained to do. Ah-h, the worms, the Duke said. I must see one sometime. You may see one , Kynes said. Wver t is spice, t are worms. Always? Heck asked. Always. Is t a relationship between worm and spice? the Duke asked. Kynes turned and Paul saw the pursed lips as the man spoke. They defend spice sands. Each worm has a--territory. As to the spice... who ks? Worm specimens we've examined lead us to suspect complicated chemical interchanges within them. We find traces of hydrochloric acid in the ducts, more complicated acid s elsew. I'll give you my monograph on the subject. And a shield's no defense? the Duke asked. Shields! Kynes sneered. ivate a shield within the worm zone and you seal your fate. Worms ignore territory lines, come from far around to attack a shield. No man wearing a shield has ever survived such attack. How are worms taken, then? High voltage electrical shock applied separately to each ring segment is the kn way of killing and preserving an entire worm, Kynes said. They can be stunned and shattered by explosives, but each ring segment has a of its own. Barring atomics, I k of no explosive powerful enough to destroy a large worm entirely. They're incredibly tough. Why hasn't an effort been made to wipe them out? Paul asked. Too expensive, Kynes said. Too much area to cover. Paul leaned back in his corner. His truthsense, awareness of tone shadings, told him that Kynes was lying and telling half-truths. And he thought: If t's a relationship between spice and worms, killing the worms would destroy the spice. No one will have to walk out of the desert , the Duke said. Trip these little transmitters at our necks and rescue is on its way. our workers will be wearing them before long. We're setting up a special rescue service. Serving two masters, Heck said. It sounds like a religious quotation. And you should k, the Duke said. Heck smiled. This Judge of the Change, Leto said, the Imperial ecologist--Kynes.... Wouldn't he k w those bases are? Sire, Hawat cautioned, this Kynes is an Imperial servant. And he's a long way from the Emperor, Leto said. I want those bases. They'd be loaded with materials we could salvage and use for repair of our working equipment. Sire! Hawat said. Those bases are still legy His Majesty's fief. The weather 's savage enough to destroy anything, the Duke said. We can always blame the weather. this Kynes and at least find out if the bases exist. 'Twere dangerous to commandeer them, Hawat said. Duncan was clear on one thing: those bases or the idea of them hold some deep significance for the Fremen. We might alienate the Fremen if we took those bases. Paul looked at the faces of the men around them, saw the intensity of the way they followed every word. They appeared deeply disturbed by his father's attitude. Listen to him, Father, Paul said in a low voice. He speaks truth. Sire, Hawat said, those bases could give us material to repair every piece of equipment left us, yet be beyond reach for strategic reasons. It'd be rash to move without er kledge. This Kynes has arbiter authority from the Imperium. We mustn't for that. And the Fremen defer to him. Do it gently, then, the Duke said. I wish to k if those bases exist. As you will, Sire. Hawat sat back, lowered his eyes. right, then, the Duke said. We k what we have ahead of us--work. We've been trained for it. We've some experience in it. We k what the rewards are and the alternatives are clear enough. You have your assignments. He looked at Heck. Gurney, take care of that smuggler situation first. 'I sh go unto the rebellious that dwell in the dry land,' Heck intoned. Someday I'll catch that man without a quotation and he'll look undressed, the Duke said. Chuckles echoed around the table, but Paul heard the effort in them. The Duke turned to Hawat. Set up another command post for intelligence and communications on this floor, Thufir. When you have them ready, I'll want to see you. Hawat arose, glancing around the room as though seeking support. He turned away, led the procession out of the room. The others moved hurriedly, scraping their chairs on the floor, bing up in little knots of confusion. It ended up in confusion, Paul thought, staring at the backs of the last men to . Always before, Staff had ended on an incisive air. This meeting had just seemed to trickle out, worn down by its own inadequacies, and with an argument to top it . For the first time, Paul owed himself to think about the real possibility of defeat--not thinking about it out of fear or because of warnings such as that of the old Reverend Mother, but facing up to it because of his own assessment of the situation. My father is desperate, he thought. Things aren't going well for us at . And Hawat--Paul reed how the old Mentat had ed during the conference--subtie hesitations, signs of unrest. Hawat was deeply troubled by something. Best you remain the rest of the night, Son, the Duke said. It'll be dawn , anyway. I'll in your mother. He got to his feet, slowly, stiffly. Why don't you pull a few of these chairs toher and stretch out on them for some rest. I'm not very tired, sir. As you will. The Duke folded his hands behind him, began pacing up and down the length of the table. Like a caged animal, Paul thought. Are you going to discuss the traitor possibility with Hawat? Paul asked. The Duke ped across from his son, spoke to the dark windows. We've discussed the possibility many times. The old woman seemed so sure of herself, Paul said. And the message Mother-- Precautions have been taken, the Duke said. He looked around the room, and Paul marked the hunted wildness in his father's eyes. Remain . T are some things about the command posts I want to discuss with Thufir. He turned, strode out of the room, nodding shortly to the door guards. Paul stared at the place w his father had stood. The space had been empty even before the Duke left the room. And he reed the old woman's warning: ... for the father, nothing. On that first day when Muad'Dib rode through the streets of Arrakeen with his family, some of the people along the way reed the legends and the prophecy and they ventured to shout: Mahdi! But their shout was more a question than a statement, for as yet they could hope he was the one foretold as the Lisan al-Gaib, the Voice from the Outer World. Their attention was focused, too, on the mother, because they had heard she was a Bene Gesserit and it was obvious to them that she was like the other Lisan al-Gaib. --from Manual of Muad'Dib by the Princess Irulan THE DUKE found Thufir Hawat alone in the corner room to which a guard directed him. T was the sound of men setting up communications equipment in an adjoining room, but this place was fairly quiet. The Duke glanced around as Hawat arose from a paper-cluttered table. It was a green-wed enclosure with, in addition to the table, three suspensor chairs from which the Harkonnen H had been hastily d, leaving an imperfect color patch. The chairs are liberated but quite safe, Hawat said. W is Paul, Sire? I left him in the conference room. I'm hoping he'll some rest without me t to distr him. Hawat nodded, crossed to the door to the adjoining room, closed it, shutting the noise of static and electronic sparking. Thufir, Leto said, the Imperial and Harkonnen stockpiles of spice attr my attention. M'Lord? The Duke pursed his lips. Storehouses are susceptible to destruction. He raised a hand as Hawat started to speak. Ignore the Emperor's hoard. He'd secretly enjoy it if the Harkonnens were embarrassed. And can the Baron object if something is destroyed which he cannot ly admit that he has? Hawat shook his head. We've few men to spare, Sire. Use some of Idaho's men. And perhaps some of the Fremen would enjoy a trip planet. A raid on Giedi Prime--t are tical advantages to such a diversion, Thufir. As you say, my Lord. Hawat turned away, and the Duke saw evidence of nervousness in the old man, thought: Perhaps he suspects I distrust him. He must k I've private reports of traitors. Well-best quiet hisfears . Thufir, he said, since you're one of the few I can trust completely, t's ather matter bears discussion. We both k how constant a watch we must keep to prevent traitors from infiltrating our forces... but I have two reports. Hawat turned, stared at him. And Leto repeated the stories Paul had brought. Instead of bringing on the intense Mentat concentration, the reports increased Hawat's agitation. Leto studied the old man and, , said: You've been holding something back, old . I should've suspected when you were so nervous during Staff. What is it that was too hot to dump in front of the full conference? Hawat's sapho-stained lips were pulled into a prim, straight line with tiny wrinkles radiating into them. They their wrinkled stiffness as he said: My Lord, I don't quite k how to broach this. We've suffered many a scar for each other, Thufir, the Duke said. You k you can broach any subject with me. Hawat continued to stare at him, thinking: This is how I like him best. This is the man of honor who deserves every bit of my loyalty and service. Why must I hurt him? Well? Leto demanded. Hawat shrugged. It's a scrap of a note. We took it from a Harkonnen courier. The note was intended for an agent named Pardee. We've good reason to believe Pardee was top man in the Harkonnen underground . The note--it's a thing that could have consequence or no consequence. It's susceptible to various interpretations. What's the delicate content of this note? Scrap of a note, my Lord. Incomplete. It was on minimic film with the usual destruction capsule attached. We ped the acid just short of full erasure, leaving a fragment. The fragment, however, is extremely suggestive. Yes? Hawat rubbed at his lips. It says: '... eto will suspect, and when the blow fs on him from a beloved hand, its source alone should be enough to destroy him.' The note was under the Baron's own seal and I've authenticated the seal. Your suspicion is obvious, the Duke said and his voice was suddenly cold. I'd er cut my arms than hurt you, Hawat said. My Lord, what if.... The Lady Jessica, Leto said, and he felt anger consuming him. Couldn't you wring the fs out of this Pardee? Unfortunately, Pardee no longer was among the living when we intercepted the courier. The courier, I'm certain, did not k what he carried. I see. Leto shook his head, thinking: What a slimy piece of business. T can't be anything in it. I k my woman. My Lord, if-- No! the Duke barked. T's a mistake that-- We cannot ignore it, my Lord. Of course they are! What I want to k is-- [This nеw documentary explains everything.]( And reveals why it could unleash 💲1 trіІІіоn in nеw wealth. [image in footer dar devider] [small logotype footer Expert Modern Advice]( ExpertModernAdvice.com is sending this newsletter on behalf Inception Media, LLC. Inception Media, LLC appreciates your comments and inquiries. Please keep in mind, that Inception Media, LLC are not permitted to provide individualized fіnancіal advіse. 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