Chapter 4 third chapter

Paul sat on the edge of the bed and took off his sand boots.The lubricant gave off a foul, sour smell.Its function is to lubricate the pump-type power unit of the heel, so that it can drive the normal operation of the still suit.It was late.His nocturnal walks took longer and longer, much to the concern of those who loved him.Such walks, he admits, are dangerous.But he can detect this kind of danger in advance and solve it immediately.At night, it is a pleasant and attractive thing to walk quietly on the streets of Araken alone. He threw his boots under the only globe light in the room and eagerly ripped the seal off his still suit.God, he was so tired!Although fatigue made his muscles stiff, his brain was still very active.Every day, the worldly life of ordinary people always makes him jealous.An emperor cannot enjoy the nameless and fervent life outside the palace walls...but... walking the streets unobtrusively: what a privilege!Passing the rowdy beggars and listening to a Fremen cursing the shopkeeper: "Your dehydrated hands!"

... Thinking of this, Paul couldn't help laughing, and got out of the distillation suit. He is naked yet feels completely in tune with his world.Dune is a world full of contradictions: a world under siege, yet a center of power.Power, he thought, was inevitably under siege.He stared down at the green carpet, feeling its rough texture with the soles of his feet. The sand on the street is as deep as your feet, and the shielding wall blocks the overwhelming wind.But thousands of feet still churned up choking dust that clogged the filters of the still suit.Until now, he can still smell the dust, even though there is a blower blower at the door of his room, blowing it non-stop.The smell is reminiscent of a barren desert.

Those days... those dangers. Walking alone was less dangerous than in those days.However, wearing a distillate suit is like wearing the entire desert on your body.The still suit, with its devices for recovering the water released by the body, guided his thinking and caused subtle changes in his thinking; the still suit fixed his behavior and made him behave like a desert. mode.He turned into a savage Fremen.The distilled suit did more than cover up, it made him a stranger in his own city.Putting on the still suit, he gave up his sense of security and picked up the previous set of violent methods.The pilgrims and citizens were cautious when they passed by him, with low eyebrows and pleasing eyes.They dare not provoke these savages.If the desert had a face in the minds of its citizens, it was the face of a Fremen hidden beneath the mouth and nose filters of the stillsuit.

In fact, there is only a small risk: people from the cave age may recognize him by his gait, body odor and eyes.Even so, chances of encountering enemies are rare. The door curtain slammed, and a ray of light shot into the room, interrupting his contemplation.Jani came in carrying a silver tray with coffee-making utensils on it.The two suspended lights following her quickly moved to the designated positions: one was at the head of their bed, and the other hung beside her to follow her. Jani moved deftly, without age, calm and light, and the way she bent over her coffee reminded him of when they first met.She is still so lively and mischievous, and the years have hardly left any traces, except for a close inspection of the corners of the eyes where there are no whites, and you will notice a fine line there: the Fremen in the desert call it a "sand mark."

She pinched Hagar's jade handle and lifted the lid of the coffee pot, and a wisp of hot steam wafted out of it.He smelled that the coffee was not yet brewed.Sure enough, she put the lid on.The coffeepot was in the shape of a sterling silver pregnant woman playing the flute.He remembered that it was a ganima, the spoils of a duel.Jamis, the name of the former owner of the jug...Jamis.How strange, how haunting, Jamis' death was.If he knew that death was inevitable, would he still carry this special coffee pot with him? Jani took out the cups: blue ceramic cups that squatted like servants under the huge coffee pot, and there were three of them: one for each of them, and one for each of the previous owners of the coffee set.

"Just a minute," she said. She looks at him.Paul didn't know what he looked like to her.Or the strange, lean, well-hydrated stranger compared to the Fremen?Is he still like the "Yousuo" in the tribe in the past?When they fled to the desert, it was Yusuo who walked with her on the "road" of the Fremen. Paul stared at his body: muscular, slender...just a few scars.Although he has been emperor for twelve years, his body basically remains the same.He looked up and looked at his face in the mirror... blue Fremen eyes, the telltale sign of a spice addiction; a straight Atreides nose that looked like the The grandson of the grandfather in the chaos of the bullring.

Paul recalled what the old man said: "The ruler has an unshirkable responsibility to the people he rules. You are the leader, so you must use selfless care to make your people happy." The people still miss the old man with deep affection. And what have I done with the Atreides name on my head?Paul asked himself.I put the wolf into the flock. For a moment, images of death and violence flashed through his mind. "It's time to go to bed!" Chani ordered in a stern tone.Paul was familiar with the tone. In her eyes, he was not an emperor at all. He obediently got into bed, lying back with his hands behind his head, letting himself relax in Jani's delightfully familiar movements.

It suddenly occurred to him that the furnishings in this room were rather funny.Ordinary people would certainly not be able to imagine what the emperor's bedroom looked like.On the shelf behind Chani stood a row of glass jars of different colors, and the yellow light of the spherical lamp cast dancing shadows on them.Paul meditated on the contents of the glass jar: dry medicines, ointments, incense and various souvenirs recorded in the Desert Pharmacopoeia...a pinch of sand in the cave of Taibu, a lock of hair from the birth of their eldest son...the child has long been Dead...for twelve years...one of the innocents killed in the war that made Paul emperor.

The strong smell of spiced coffee fills the room.Paul took a deep breath and looked away from Chani, who was making coffee, to a yellow bowl next to the tray.Bowls with nuts. Inevitably, the toxin detector crawled up from under the table, shaking its insect-like arms at the bowl of food. Probes made him angry.In the desert, they don't need detectors at all! "Coffee is ready," said Jani. "Are you hungry?" His anger was drowned out by the roar of a spice barge.These ships are departing from Arakon, heading for space. Chani sensed his anger.She poured two cups of coffee, put one next to his hand, then sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled out his feet, and began to rub for him.Because of walking in a still suit for a long time, my feet are covered with calluses.She said softly, "Let's talk about Irulan's desire for a child." She said it as if casually, but nothing could be hidden from him.

Paul's eyes widened suddenly, staring at Chani. "It's been less than two days since you came back from Wallach." He said, "Irulan has already looked for you?" "We never discussed her frustration," she said. Paul forced himself to be alert, studying Chani's every move under the harsh lights.This is the Bi Geist method taught to him by his mother at the expense of violating the pure rules.He really didn't want to use it on Jani.An important reason why he couldn't leave her was that he didn't have to use any nerve-wracking methods on her.In keeping with her Fremen goodness, Jani almost never asked any inappropriate questions.Her questions are usually transactional.Chani cares most about those things that affect her status as a man: his power in the Council of State, how loyal the Legion is to him, how capable his allies are, and so on.She can remember a long list of names, as well as detailed indexes in books.She also had no trouble telling each enemy's major weakness, the enemy's likely disposition of troops, the military commander's battle plan, what weapons to use, what their basic industrial capabilities were, and so on.

Why did you ask about Yirulan now?Paul was puzzled. "I upset you," Chani said. "That's not my intention." "What is your intention?" Jani smiled shyly, and met his gaze, "If you're angry, honey, don't hide it." Paul leaned back against the headboard. "Should I send her away?" he asked. "She's useless right now, and I don't like her hanging out with sorority people." "Don't send her away," Chani said.She continued to massage his legs, her voice was calm and down-to-earth, "You have said many times that she is a bridge to the enemy. You can know their conspiracy through her activities." "Then why did you mention that she wanted a child?" "It can thwart the enemy's plot. If you impregnate her, Irulan's position among the enemy will be shaky." In the hands rubbing against his legs, he could feel the pain those words had caused her.He cleared his throat and said slowly, "Gani, honey, I swore I would never let her in my bed. A child would give her too much power. Do you want her to take her place?" You?" "I have no title." "That's not true, dear Sehaya, my spring in the desert. Why do you suddenly care about Irulan?" "I care about you, not her! Her friends will doubt her loyalty if she conceives a child of the blood of Atreides. The less our enemies trust her, the less useful she will be to them .” "Her baby could mean the end for you," Paul said. "You know what they're plotting." He wrapped his arms around her tightly. "But you should have an heir!" she choked out. "Oh," he said. That is to say: Jani cannot bear him a child, someone else must give birth to him.So, why can't this person be Yirulan?That's what Chani was thinking at the moment.And this must be done through sex, because the empire expressly prohibits the artificial reproduction of offspring.Jani's decision was entirely Freemanian. Paul studied her face again under the light.It was a face more familiar than his own.He had gazed at it tenderly and affectionately, a face that was sweet, frightened, angry, and sad in its sleep. He closed his eyes, and Janie's youth came back to him again: the face in the spring veil, the face humming, the face lazily waking from sleep—so perfect, every image Fascinated him.In his memory, she was smiling... a little shy at first, then nervous, as if she wanted to run away immediately.Paul's mouth went dry.At this moment, his nostrils smelled the desolate smoke from the barren future. A voice, a voice from another kind of phantasm, commanded him to let go... let go... let go.For a long time, his spiritual eye with magical power of prediction has been spying on the future non-stop, catching every abnormal sound, eavesdropping on the movement of every stone, and every movement of every person.From the day he first had this terrible magic, he has been looking into his future, hoping to find peace and tranquility. Naturally, there are ways.He remembered it without knowing what it meant—a rote future whose strict instruction was: let go, let go, let go. Paul opened his eyes and looked at Chani's determined face.She had stopped massaging and sat there quietly—the purest Fremen gesture.Everything about her was still so familiar, with the blue maternity hood that they used to wear in their private room.But at this time, she had a mask of determination on her face. He was very unfamiliar with the way of thinking that made this decision, but this way of thinking had lasted for thousands of years.For thousands of years, Freeman women have been enjoying men together, not just for getting along in harmony, but more importantly, for carrying on the family line.It was this mystical Fremen custom that was clearly at work on Jani right now. "You'll give me the heir I want," he said. "You've seen it?" she asked, clearly referring to his precognitive powers. There have been many times when Paul didn't know how to explain the foreknowledges exactly.The unmarked timeline undulated in front of him like fabric.He sighed, remembering the feeling of scooping up a handful of water from the river: the water swayed and slowly flowed away.The waves of memory wet his face.But now, the illusion of the future is becoming more and more complex and obscure, how can he immerse himself in the water of the future? "That is, you didn't see it," said Chani. He could hardly see visions of the future any more, unless the adventure went all out.What could the future show them but sorrow?Paul asked himself.He felt that he was in a barren place, full of hostility, utterly desolate, only his emotions were floating, swaying, flowing outwards irresistibly, never-ending, and gradually drying up. Jani covered his legs and said, "To give the Atreides a descendant. It's not a question of which woman you leave the chance to." That's what his mother used to say, too, Paul thought.He wondered if Mrs. Jessica was secretly communicating with Chani.His mother considered these matters only in the interests of the Atreides family.That was the mindset she had learned from the Bee Geist School, and it remained unchanged even though she had now betrayed the Bee Geist Sisterhood. "You heard us talking when Irulan came today," he reproached. "I listened," she said, not looking at him. Paul thought about meeting Irulan.He went into the family room to find an unfinished robe on Chani's loom.There was also a sour sandworm smell, a bad stench that almost overwhelmed the smell of the little bitten bitten tawny spices.Someone knocked off the essence of perfume and it dripped onto a carpet.The fragrance burned the carpet, and an oily smudge formed on the floor.He wanted to call for someone to clean it up, when Harah, Stilgar's wife and Jani's closest girlfriend, came in and said Irulan was coming. He had to meet Irulan amidst the disgusting stench.It is in line with the superstition of the Freeman people: the smell comes before the foot, and the heel comes after the bad luck. When Irulan entered, Harah stepped back. "Welcome back," Paul said. Irulan wore a gray whaleskin robe.She pulled her leather jacket tighter and ran one hand through her hair, puzzled by his gentle tone.She was fully prepared for a furious reprimand, and those words of reprimand had been turned over in her mind several times. "You're here to report to me that the Sisterhood has cast aside the last sliver of moral scruple," he said. "Isn't it too dangerous to do something so ridiculous?" she asked. "Absurd and dangerous, there's something wrong with that combination," he said.Bee Geist's training in spotting traitors had made him aware that she was resisting the urge to flinch.The effort had given him a glimpse of her deepest fears, and he had also discovered that she didn't like the tasks they had given her. "It's a little too much for a royal princess like you," he said. Irulan didn't move.Paul knew that she was using the force of will, holding herself tightly like a vise, so that she would not lose control.She carries a heavy psychological burden, he thought.Paul couldn't understand why the precognitive visions didn't allow him to see this variable in the future sooner. Gradually, Yirulan relaxed.She had made up her mind: there was no point letting fear overwhelm her, and it was too late to back down now. "You don't care about the climate here, and let it maintain its barbaric state." She rubbed her arm under her robe, "It's too dry, and there are sandstorms. Don't you plan to let it rain here?" "You didn't come here to talk about the climate," Paul said.He pondered the meaning of her words.Could it be that Yirulan wanted to tell him something unspeakable?Something her training didn't allow her to say?It seems so.He felt as if he had been thrown into the air suddenly, and he was bound to fall hard somewhere hard. "I have to have a baby," she said. He shook his head slowly. "I must!" she snapped. "If necessary, I will find another father for the child. I will make you cuckold, and see if you dare to bring it out." "Cuckold is fine," he said, "but you don't want kids." "How do you stop me?" He smiled the most kindly, "If that's the case, I'll have you hanged." She was stunned. In the silence, Paul found that Chani was eavesdropping behind the thick cloth, which was their private bedroom. "I am your wife." Yirulan whispered. "Let's not play this stupid game," he said. "You're just playing the wife. We all know who my wife is." "I'm just a tool, that's all," she said.The voice is full of pain. "I didn't mean to abuse you," he said. "But you put me in this position." "Not me," he said. "Fate chose you. Your father chose you. The Bee Geist Sisterhood chose you. The Guild chose you. This time, they chose you. They this time What do you choose, Yirulan?" "Why can't I have your baby?" "Because you are not suitable for such a role." "I have the right to raise a royal heir! My father was..." "Your father was and remains a brute. You and I both know that he has lost almost all of the humanity he was supposed to rule and protect." "Other people don't hate him as much as they hate you?" She glared at him. "Good question," he agreed.A self-deprecating smile flashed across his mouth. "You said that you didn't want to abuse me, but..." "So I agree with you to find a lover. But listen carefully: find a lover, but you are not allowed to bring the damn bastard child into my royal family. I will not recognize such a child. I have no objection to you having sex with any man, as long as You are discreet... and have no children. I am not a fool, and I would have no idea in such circumstances. But you do not abuse the rights I have generously bestowed on you. As for the throne, I will strictly control its blood. The Sisterhood of Bee Gist can't control it, and neither can the Guild. It's a privilege I won when I drove your father's Sardukar Legion from the Plains of Arakon." "You have the final say." Yirulan said.She turned sharply and rushed out of the room. Paul pulled his thoughts from the memory to Chani sitting by the bed.He was well aware of his conflicted feelings toward Irulan, and he understood Ganni Freeman's decision.On the other hand, Jani and Irulan might even become friends. "How did you decide?" Chani asked. "No kids," he said. Jani made a shrieking blade gesture with her index finger and right thumb. "Things might actually get to that point," he agreed. "You don't think one child can solve all of Irulan's problems?" she asked. "A fool would think that." "I'm no fool, dear." He got annoyed: "I didn't say you were! But we're not talking about a goddamn romance novel. The one down the corridor is a real princess. Growing up in an imperial court and seeing all kinds of dirty royal vendettas. Yes Conspiracies are as common to her as writing her stupid history books!" "Those are not stupidly written, my dear." "Maybe." His annoyance gradually disappeared, and he held her hand, "I'm sorry. But that woman has too many conspiracies, and there are small conspiracies in the big ones. As long as one of her ambitions is satisfied, she will make progress. " Chani said softly, "Have I been talking too much?" "Yes, of course." He looked at her. "What are you really trying to tell me?" She lay down beside him and stroked his neck with her hands. "They have decided to destroy you," she said. "Irulan knows these secrets." Paul ruffled her hair. Jani took off her coat. At this time, a terrible sense of mission swept over him, stirring his heart like a gust of wind, and passing through his body screaming.His body could feel it, but his mind could never understand it. "Gani, darling," he whispered, "do you know what it would cost me to end this crusade . ?” She trembled. "But you are the one who holds the leadership," she said. "Oh no. Even though I'm dead now, my name still leads them. Whenever I think of my Atreides name being associated with this brutal religious massacre..." "But you are the emperor, you have already..." "I'm a puppet. When a man becomes a god, he can no longer control the situation." He poked fun at himself.He noticed that a future dynasty that he could not imagine in his dreams was turning his head and staring at him.He felt himself cast out, crying, no longer connected to the chain of fate...Only his name will live on. "I was chosen," he said, "perhaps when I was just born...when I couldn't possibly resist." "Then shake it off," she said. He hugged her shoulders tightly, "Sooner or later, my dear. Give me a little more time." Tears filled his eyes. "We should go back to Taib Cave," Chani said. "There's too much fighting in this stone tent." He nodded.Jaw rubs against her smooth turban. A pleasant scent of spices from her filled his nostrils. Cavern.The old Chicobusa word captivated him: a refuge in times of crisis.Jani's words made him think of the vast desert, the endless sand dunes, no matter how far away the enemy came from, he could see everything in a glance. "The tribesmen were looking forward to their Muad'di's return," Ghani said.She turned to look at him, "You belong to us." "I belong to an illusion," he whispered. He thought of jihad, of the genetic combination that spanned the parsec, and how it might end.Should he pay for it?When the fighting dies down, all the hatred will evaporate - little by little.But... alas!What a terrible price! I never wanted to be a god, he thought.I just want to imagine a lovely drop of dew in the morning, disappearing silently.I want to run away from those angels and demons...and be alone. "Shall we go back to Taibu's Cave?" Chani asked again. "Okay," he whispered.He thought: I must pay the price. Chani sighed deeply, leaning against him again. I've wasted a lot of time, he thought.Love and jihad surrounded him at all times.How can one person's life, no matter how much it is loved by everyone, be worth the thousands of lives lost in jihad?How can the sorrow of a single person be compared with the pain of the masses? "Honey?" Chani asked. He put a hand to her lips. I will listen to my inner voice, he thought.While I have strength, I must escape, to a place where even the birds cannot find me.There's no use in thinking that way, he knows.Jihad will still be after his soul. How does he explain when the people accuse him of cruelty and stupidity?He thought, how to answer?Who will understand him? I just want to look back and say, "Look there! That being is not I. Behold, I am gone! No human snare can contain me anymore, guard me. I renounce my religion! This glorious The moment is mine! I am free!" What pale, empty words! "A huge sandworm was found under the shielding wall yesterday." Gani said, "It is said to be more than a hundred meters long. Such a large sandworm is rare in this area. I think the water blocked it. Someone Said it came here to summon Muad'di back to his desert home." She squeezed his chest, "Don't laugh at me!" "I'm not smiling." The Fremen's superstition of myth and legend always amazed Paul.At this moment, he suddenly felt a tightness in his chest, and something jolted on his lifeline: it was a spontaneous memory, a strong uninvited memory.He recalled his childhood on the planet Kaladan... the stone hut, the dark night... the vision!That was the first time he used his precognition ability.He felt his consciousness sinking back into the vision, and through the veiled memory (a vision within a vision), he saw a row of Fremen.Their robes were dusty, and they walked across tall rock gaps, carrying a long, cloth-wrapped thing. Paul heard himself say in a vision, "So sweet...you are the sweetest of them all..." Spontaneous memory let go of the iron grip that held him. "Why don't you talk?" Chani whispered. "What's going on?" Paul shrugged, sat up, and turned his face away. "You're angry because I went to the edge of the desert," said Jani. He shook his head and said nothing. "I was there to have a baby," Jani said. Paul could not speak.He was still reveling in the raw power of that earlier vision.That terrible mission!At that moment, his life seemed to become a wing, which was shaken back and forth by the flying birds... Birds represent adventure and free will. I cannot escape the lure of prophecy, he thought. Giving in to this temptation, he realized, was tantamount to staying on a certain track in his life.Perhaps, he thought, the prophecies did not foretell the future?Perhaps he let his life be caught in the intricate web of this prophecy, and finally fell prey to the spider of the prophecy.Now, the spider is opening its mouth wide, and it is approaching him step by step. A Bee Geist adage flashed through his mind: "Using raw power only makes you forever subject to higher powers." "I know it will piss you off." Chani said as she touched his arm. "Really, people in the tribe have resumed the ancient rituals and blood sacrifices, but I didn't participate." Paul took a deep breath and shivered.The torrent of illusion was dispelled, and it became a bottomless but calm ocean, under which surged a force beyond his reach. "Please," Chani begged, "I just want a baby, our baby. What's wrong with that?" He patted her arm caressingly, then pushed it away, climbed out of bed, turned off the spherical light, walked to the window next to the balcony, and slowly opened the curtain.The desert hadn't encroached here except for its smell, and it stretched far in front of him like a windowless wall, stretching out into the night sky.The moonlight slanted into the closed garden, and fell on the tall trees, their broad leaves, and the damp bushes.Dots of stars cast bright shadows on the fish pond, like pieces of white petals scattered in the shade of the trees, shining brightly.In an instant, he understood what this garden meant to the Freemen: weird, scary, dangerous, a waste of water. He thought of those water merchants.The generous distribution of water affects the interests of these people.They hate him.He destroyed the past.Others, even those who had worked so hard to buy the precious water, hated him.Because the old way of life has been changed.Following Muad'di's orders, the ecological pattern of the planet has changed dramatically, and people's resistance has also increased.He wondered if his decision was too arbitrary, thinking that he could transform the entire planet—change everything that was already there, and order it to exist in a certain way?Even if he succeeds, what about the universe beyond this planet?Would it be afraid of similar reforms? He yanked the curtains shut and closed the vents.He turned to Chani in the darkness, feeling that she was waiting for him there, the ring of water tinkling like a pilgrim's alms bell.He groped along the sound and touched her outstretched arm. "Honey," she whispered, "I upset you?" Her arms embraced him, and at the same time his vision of the future. "It's nothing to do with you," he said, "oh . . . not you."