Chapter 11 Chapter Eleven
In her youth, Alia Atreides had practiced countless hours under the influence of the spice drug, hoping to strengthen her own self against the onslaught of other memories in her body.She knew the problem—as long as she was in the cave, she couldn't get rid of the spice.Spice is everywhere: in food, in water, in air, even in the fabric on which she cries at night.She had long been aware of the power of cavern revelry, during which the tribe would drink the sandworm's water of life.Through revelry, the Fremen were able to release the stress that had built up in their genetic memory banks, which they could deny themselves.She saw clearly how her companions were obsessed with orgies.
But for her, that release doesn't exist, and it's okay to deny it.Long before she was born, she had full consciousness, and everything that happened around her flooded into this consciousness.Her body was tightly sealed in the womb, and could only be connected to all her ancestors, and other dead who had entered into the depths of Lady Jessica's memory through spices.Before Alia was born, she had already mastered every aspect of the knowledge required by Our Lady of Bi Geist, not only that, but also many memories from other people.
With this knowledge comes a terrifying reality - the Aberration.Such a vast amount of knowledge overwhelmed her.She had memories before she was born, and she couldn't escape them.But Aria fought anyway, against some of the most terrible of her ancestors.For a while, she achieved brief victories and survived childhood.She had a real, unmolested self, but the beings living in her body attacked all the time, blindly and unconsciously.She could not resist the onslaught for long.
One day, I too will be like that, she thought.The thought tormented her.Sojourning ignorantly inside the child she gave birth to, she constantly struggles outwards, fighting desperately, in order to obtain even a little bit of consciousness that belongs to her, and get even a little bit of experience again.
Fear ruled her childhood, and it haunted her well into adolescence.She struggled with it, but never asked for help.Who can understand what she is praying for?Her mother would not understand that she had never been free from the fear of her daughter, the fear that came from Bee Geist's judgment that people with memories before birth were aberrations.
Some other night her brother had gone out alone into the desert, to die, to offer himself to Shahulu, as every blind Freeman does.That very month, Alia married Paul's master swordsman, Duncan Idaho, a resurrected mentat designed by the Trealax.Her mother lived in seclusion in Caladan, and Alia became the legal guardian of the Paul twins.
Also became Queen Regent.
With the pressure of responsibility dispelling long-held fears, she opened herself to the life within her, asking them for advice, indulging in spices and drugs for guidance.The crisis took place on an ordinary spring day, with clear skies above the Al-Muaddi Palace and occasional cold winds from the polar regions.Alia still wears the mourning yellow, the same color as the dimming sun.Over the past few months, she has become more and more resistant to the mother's voice inside her.People were preparing for the upcoming holy day ceremony at the temple, and Mother always scoffed at it.
Inside Jessica's consciousness kept fading, fading... eventually fading into a faceless plea for Alia to obey Atreides' laws.Other life consciousnesses started their own hustle and bustle.
Alia felt herself opening a bottomless abyss from which faces emerged like a swarm of locusts.Finally, her thoughts focused on a beastly figure: the old Baron of the Harkonnen family.Frightened, she screamed loudly, using her voice to overwhelm the din in her heart, and won a moment of peace for herself.
That morning, Alia took a pre-breakfast walk in the castle's roof garden.To win this inner battle, she began to try a new method, contemplating the precepts of the true Sunni.
But the early morning sunlight reflecting off the shielding wall mountain interfered with her thinking.She withdrew her gaze from the shielding wall mountain, and her eyes fell on the grass under her feet.She found that the grass blades were covered with dewdrops from the night's moisture.The dewdrops seemed to be telling her how many choices there were in front of her.
The sheer number of options made her dizzy.Every choice carries the imprint of a face inside her.
She wanted to focus on the associations evoked by the grass.The presence of copious amounts of dew shows how far Arrakis' ecosystem transformation has gone.The climate in the northern latitudes has become increasingly warm, and the level of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere is rising.She thought about how many acres of land would be covered with green next year, and each acre of green land would need 37,000 cubic feet of water to irrigate.
Despite trying to think about these practical matters, she still couldn't get rid of the consciousness that swirled around her like a shark in her body.
She put her hand on her forehead and pressed hard.
At sunset yesterday, her temple guards brought her a prisoner for her trial: Aethas Payman, ostensibly a janitor to a small family of curios and trinkets traded by the name of Nebras , But in fact, Peiman is a spy of Yulian Company, and the task is to estimate the annual spice production.When Arya ordered him to be thrown into the dungeon, he protested loudly: "This is the justice of House Atreides." This practice should have been executed immediately, by hanging from a tripod, but Arya was arrested. Impressed by his bravery.She was stern on the trial seat, trying to pry more information from him.
"Why is the Great Family Federation so interested in our spice production?" She asked, "Tell us, we can let you go."
"I only collect information that can be sold," Peiman said. "I don't know what other people will do with the information I sell."
"For such a small profit, you dare to disrupt the royal plan?" Alia shouted.
"The royal family also never considered our own plans," he retorted.
Admiring his courage, Aaliyah said, "Aethas Payman, would you work for me?"
After hearing this, a smile appeared on his dark face, revealing his white teeth: "You plan to confirm it before executing me, right? How could I suddenly become so valuable, worth your money?" price?"
"You have simple and practical value," she said. "You are brave, and you always pick the highest bidder. I will bid more than anyone in this empire." He charged a sky-high price for his services, Alia laughed it off and paid back what she thought was a reasonable price.Of course, even that price was much higher than any bid he had ever received.She added: "Don't forget, I also gave you your life. I think you'll consider this a priceless gift."
"Deal!" Peiman shouted.With a wave of Alia's hand, Zyarenku Javid, the priest in charge of appointing officials, took him away.
Less than an hour later, just as Alia was about to leave the courtroom, Javed hurried in and reported hearing Peyman silently reciting a verse from the Orange Catholic Bible: "Maleficos non patieris vivere."
"You should not live under the power of witches," Alia translated.This is his thank you to her!He was one of those who conspired to put her to death!A fit of rage like never before had washed over her, and she ordered Peyman to be executed immediately, and his body sent to the alembic of the dead in the temple.There, at least his water would bring some value to the Church's coffers.
That night, Peiman's black face haunted her all night.
She tried all the tricks to banish this image that was constantly blaming her.She recited the scriptures in Freeman's "Krios": "Nothing happened! Nothing happened!" But Peyman pestered her and spent a long night, making her groggy and ushered in A new day, and saw his face again in the dew that reflected the sun like a jewel.
A female guard appeared at the patio door behind low mimosa bushes and offered her breakfast.Alia sighed.So many meaningless choices tortured her, making her feel like she was in hell.The shouts in the depths of her consciousness and the shouts of the guards were meaningless noises, but she was very persistent. She really wanted to end these annoying voices like a drizzling hourglass with a blade.
Alia ignored the guards and looked at the shield wall mountain outside the rooftop.At the foot of the mountain lies a sedimentary alluvial plain that looks like a fan of rock debris, a sandy delta outlined in the morning sun.She thought that a pair of uninformed eyes might have taken the big fan as evidence of a river flowing, but it was just her brother's Atreides atomic bomb blasting the shield wall mountain and opening the door to the desert. Gap, allowing his Freemen army to ride sandworms and unexpectedly defeat his predecessor, Emperor Shadum IV.Now, people have dug a wide canal on the other side of the shield wall mountain to prevent the invasion of sandworms.Sandworms cannot cross wide expanses of water, and the water will poison it.
Is there such a divider in my consciousness too, she thought.
The thought made her head groggy even more, making her feel even more distant from reality.
Sandworms!Sandworms!
Her memory came back to what the sandworm looked like: the mighty Shahulu, a Fremen, and she couldn't help thinking: What a strange sandworm, a tiny sandtrout growing into something huge.They were like the multitude of individuals in her consciousness.Stripes of sandtrout line the planet's bedrock, forming living reservoirs.They took over the planet's water, allowing their mutated sandworms to live there.Alia felt that a similar relationship existed in her: that part of the individuality in her consciousness held back some terrible force from rushing forth and destroying her utterly.
The guard yelled again, telling her to have breakfast.She was clearly getting impatient with the wait.
Alia turned and waved her out of here.
The guard obeyed, but slammed the door behind him as he left.
The slam of the door reached Alia, and in the sound she felt captured by everything she had been resisting for so long.The other beings inside her surged out like a huge wave, each competing to put its own face in the center of her field of vision—a crowd of faces.A face with ringworm, a grim face, a gloomy face.Faces of all kinds flowed through her consciousness like a tide, asking her to give up the struggle and go with them.
"No," she murmured, "no...no...no..."
She should have collapsed in the aisle, but the bench beneath her accepted her limp body.She wanted to sit up, but couldn't, so she spread her limbs on the plastic steel chair, only her mouth was still resisting.
The tide in the body is surging.
She felt herself paying attention to every tiny detail.She knew the stakes, and was alert to what was coming out of every buzzing mouth inside her.Harsh voices tried to get her attention: "Me! Me!"
"No, it's me!" But she knew that once she gave full attention to a voice, she would lose herself.Identifying one face among many, and following the voice that accompanied that face, meant that she would be controlled solely by the face that shared her life.
"It is because of the ability to predict the future that you will know this." A voice whispered.
She covered her ears with her hands and thought: I can't predict the future!Drinking spice fan soup didn't help either!
But the voice insisted: "You will, if you can get help."
"No...no." She murmured.
Other voices rang in her consciousness: "I, Agamemnon, your ancestor, command you to obey me!"
"No...no." She pressed her ears hard with her hands, and the flesh beside her ears hurt.
A burst of maniacal laughter sounded in her ears: "What happened after Ovid's death? Simple. He was John Bartlett's previous life."
These names mean nothing to her in her predicament.She wanted to scream at them and at the other voices in her head, but she couldn't make her own.
A certain senior guard sent the guard back to the rooftop.Standing in the doorway behind the mimosa bushes, she glanced again and saw Alia lying on the bench.She said to her companion, "Well, she's resting. You know she didn't sleep well last night. Another sleep will do her good."
But Alia did not hear the guard's voice.A piercing song in her head grabbed her consciousness: "We are happy birds, aha!" The voice echoed in her head, and she thought: I'm going crazy.I'm losing my mind.
The feet on the bench moved slightly, making an escape movement.She just felt that once she could control her body, she would flee immediately.She had to flee before the currents of her consciousness swallowed her up and corrupted her soul forever.But her body wouldn't listen.The most powerful force in the empire obeys any small wish of her at any time, but at this moment she cannot command her body.
A voice inside laughed and said, "In some way, child, every creative endeavor is a disaster." It was a deep voice, rumbling before her eyes.There was another burst of laughter, as if mocking the words just now, "My dear child, I will help you, but you must also help me."
Gritting her teeth, Alia said to the low voice above the din, "Who...who..."
A face formed in her consciousness.A smiling fat face, like a baby, but with a greedy look in those eyes.She wanted to withdraw her consciousness, but she could only move a little away from the face, and saw the body connected to the face.That body was extremely obese, wrapped in a robe, and the lower end of the robe protruded slightly, indicating that this fat body needed the support of a portable levitation ring.
"You see," said the deep voice, "I am your grandfather. You know me. I am Baron Vladimir Hackney."
"You...you're dead!" she gasped.
"Of course. My dear! Most of you are dead inside you. But the others won't come to your aid. They don't understand you."
"Go away," she begged, "oh please go away."
"But you need help, granddaughter," argued the baron's voice.
How extraordinary he looked, she thought, looking at the image of the baron inside closed eyelids.
"I'd like to help you," the baron said seductively, "while the others here are just vying for control of your entire consciousness. Every single one of them wants to drive your own consciousness away. But I... I only ask for one Your own little corner."
The other life in her body exploded again.The tide threatened to overwhelm her again, and she heard her mother's voice screaming.Alia thought: Isn't she dead?
"Shut up!" ordered the baron.
Alia felt a strong desire to reinforce that command.Longing flowed through her entire consciousness.
Her heart fell silent, a sense of tranquility flowed through her body like a cold bath, and her heartbeat like a wild horse galloping gradually returned to normal.
The baron's voice sounded again at the right time: "See? Together, no one can defeat us. You help me, and I help you."
"You... what do you want?" she whispered.
The fat face inside the eyelids has a pensive expression. "Well... my dear granddaughter," he said, "I just ask for a little pleasure. Let me touch your consciousness from time to time. No one else needs to know. Let me feel a little corner of your life, such as , when you are intoxicated in your lover's arms. Isn't my request low?"
"yes."
"Okay, okay." The baron smiled triumphantly, "In return, my dear granddaughter, I can help you in many ways. I can act as your advisor and give you advice, whether in your internal or external battles .Make you invincible. You will destroy all who oppose you. History will forget your brother and remember your name. The future is yours."
"You...won't let...others control me?"
"They're no match for us! Alone, we'll be controlled, but together, we can rule. I'll show you. Listen."
The baron fell silent, and the symbol of his presence in her—his image—was gone.Then, no memory, face or voice of anyone else invaded her consciousness.
Alia let out a long, shaky breath.
With a sigh, an idea came to her.It forced its way into her consciousness as if it were her own, but she could feel a silent voice behind it.
The old Baron was a devil.He murdered your father.He also wants to kill you and Paul.He tried, but without success.
The baron's voice rose, but his face did not appear: "Of course I wanted to kill you. Didn't you get in my way? But, that dispute is over. You won, boy! You're new truth."
She felt herself nodding, her face looking at the rough surface of the bench.
There was a point in what he said, she thought.A theorem of the Bee Geist Sisterhood: The object of dispute is to alter the nature of truth.This theorem reinforces the Baron's sensible rhetoric.
Yep... the people at Bee Geist sure think so.
"Correct!" said the Baron, "I am dead and you are alive. I am but a faint existence. I am but a memory in your body. I am your servant. The reward I ask for my profound advice is So little."
"What do you suggest I do now?" she asked tentatively.
"You're doubting the judgment made last night," he said. "You don't know if the reports of Paiman's words and actions are true. Maybe Javed sees Paiman as a threat to his current status. Isn't that the doubt that haunts you? ?”
"yes."
"And, your doubts are based on keen observation, aren't you? Javid is acting as if he's growing closer to you. Even Duncan has noticed, hasn't he?"
"You know."
"Very well, let Javid be your lover—"
"No!"
"Are you worried about Duncan? Your husband is a Mentat. He is not stimulated or hurt by physical actions. Don't you sometimes feel that he is far away from you?"
"but he……"
"Once Duncan knows what you did to destroy Javid, the Mentat part of him will understand you."
"destroy……"
"Of course! People can use dangerous tools, but when they become too dangerous, they should be discarded."
"So... I mean... why..."
"Aha, you little fool! It's a lesson for others, a very valuable lesson."
"I do not understand."
"Whether or not, my dear granddaughter, depends on the result, and the effect that result has on others. Javid will obey you unconditionally, will submit to your rule completely, and his—"
"But it's immoral—"
"Don't be silly, granddaughter! Morality must be grounded in pragmatism. Morality must be subordinated to the ruler. A victory is only a victory if it satisfies your deepest desire. Don't you admire Javid's manliness?"
Alia swallowed, ashamed to admit it, but she couldn't hide the fact from the observer inside her.She could only say, "Yes."
"Good!" how cheerful the voice sounded in her head, "now we begin to understand each other. When you provoke him, say in your bed, and convince him that you are his slave, then , you can ask him about Peyman. Pretend it's a joke: to provide a joke between you. When he admits to cheating on you, you insert a screeching knife between his ribs. Aha, flow How much spice would the blood of the--"
"No," she whispered.She only felt her mouth dry out of fear, "No...no...no..."
"Let me do it for you, then," insisted the baron, "and you admit that it must be done. You just have to set the conditions, and I'll take the place of—"
"No!"
"Your fears are so obvious, granddaughter. I'm only temporarily replacing your consciousness. Many people can imitate you most perfectly... let's not talk about that, you know all about it anyway. But if I replace you Ah, people recognize my presence instantly. You know how the Freeman laws deal with the possessed. You get instant death. Yes—even you, too. You know, too, I don't want that to happen. I'll help you with Javid, and if I succeed, I'll step aside. You just have to..."
"What kind of advice is that?"
"This suggestion will help you remove a dangerous tool. And, boy, it will create a working relationship between us that will teach you how to judge in the future—"
"Teach me?"
"certainly!"
Alia covered her eyes with her hands, trying to think hard.But she knew that any thoughts could be known by the existence in her body, and these thoughts might be the offspring of that existence, but she regarded them as her own thoughts.
"You don't need to be so worried," the baron said seductively, "Peyman, this guy is—"
"I did it wrong! I was tired and made a hasty decision. I should have checked first—"
"You're right! Your judgment shouldn't be based on that stupid sense of fairness of the Atreides family. That sense of fairness is the cause of your insomnia, not Payman's death. You made the right decision He's another dangerous tool. You're doing it to keep society stable - that's the justification for your decision, not some fairness bullshit. There's absolutely no such thing as fairness. Trying to achieve this Hypocritical fairness will only cause social turmoil."
Alia could not help but feel a tinge of joy at this defense of her judgment of Payman.But she still can't accept the moral disregard behind this statement. "It's fair that the Atreides . . . are . . . " She dropped her hands from her eyes, but kept them closed.
"All the sacred judgments you make should learn from this mistake." The baron said, "There can only be one starting point for any decision: to see if it is conducive to maintaining social order. Countless civilizations have used fairness This ignorance destroys the more important natural hierarchy. Any individual should be judged of his value in relation to the society as a whole. Unless a society has a definite hierarchy, no one can find his place in it —whether it is the lowest or the highest position. Come, come, granddaughter! You must be the strict mother of the people. Your task is to maintain order."
"But everything Paul did was for..."
"Your brother is dead, he failed!"
"The same to you!"
"Correct...but to me, it was just an accident by design. Come on, let's deal with this Javid, the way I told you."
The thought made her body warm.She said quickly, "I'll think about it." She thought: If it's going to happen, just let Javid settle down.Don't have to kill him for this.That fool could have confessed in one fell swoop...in my bed.
"Who are you talking to, ma'am?" asked a voice.
For a moment, Alia was terrified, thinking that this was another invasion from the hustle and bustle of life in her body.But she recognized the voice.She opened her eyes.Zyarenkarenka Viliv, captain of Arya's women's bodyguard, stood by the bench with a worried look on her rough Freeman face.
"I'm talking to the voice inside me," Alia said, sitting up on the bench.She feels refreshed all over.After the annoying noise in her body disappeared, she seemed to be in a trance.
"The voice inside you, ma'am. Yes." Her answer made Zyarenkarenka's eyes sparkle.Everyone knew that Santa Alia had access to internal resources that no one else had.
"Take Javid to my place," Alia said. "I want to talk to him."
"Where is your residence, madam?"
"Yes! My private room."
"Of order." The guard obeyed the order.
"Wait," Alia said, "Did Mr. Idaho go to Tab's Cave?"
"Yes, ma'am. He set off before dawn at your orders. You want me to go--"
"No. I'll handle it myself. Also, Zyarenkarenka, don't let anyone know that Javid was taken to my room. You go yourself. It's very important."
The guard touched the Xiaoren knife on his waist. "Ma'am, there is a threat—"
"Yes, there is a threat, Javid is the key man."
"Oh, ma'am, maybe I shouldn't have taken him—"
"Zyarenkarenka! Do you think I can't handle him?"
A cruel smile appeared on the guard's face. "Forgive me, ma'am. I will take him to your private chambers at once, but...if ma'am allows, I will have some guards at your door."
"As long as you're there," Alia said.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll do it right away."
Alia nodded and watched Zyarenkarenka go away.Apparently her bodyguards don't like Javid.Another flag against him.But he's still valuable -- very valuable.He is the key for her to open Jiaklutu, after having that place...
"Perhaps you are right, Baron," she whispered.
"You get it!" the voice inside her laughed smugly. "Aha, it's been a pleasure working for you, child, and this is just the beginning..."
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