Chapter 5 Chapter Four
The old man stood at the door, his blue eyes staring outside.Those eyes were filled with the native suspicion that all desert dwellers look at strangers.There was a painful lip line around his mouth, where a white beard grew.He wasn't wearing a still suit, but even more telling was the fact that the humidity in the room was rushing out through the open door, and he didn't care.
Scytale bowed, a gesture of greeting between conspirators.
From somewhere behind the old man came the weeping sound of a shamisen, the discordant sound of Semuta's music.However, the behavior of the old man showed no signs of having taken the ecstasy of Semutar, indicating that someone else was addicted to this ecstasy.Still, Scyther was a little uncomfortable with this kind of villainy in a place like this.
"Please accept greetings from afar." Scytale said with a smile.He chose a flat face specifically for this meeting.Because the old man may know this face.Some of the old Fremen on Dune knew Duncan Idaho.
This choice had always entertained him, but now he realized that choosing this face might have been a mistake.But he didn't dare to change his face outdoors rashly.He looked nervously at the people coming and going on the street.Wouldn't the old man want to invite himself in?
"Do you know my son?" the old man asked.
This sentence at least expressed his approval.Scytale responded appropriately, while keeping an eye out for suspicious movements around her.He doesn't like standing here.It's a dead end street and this room happens to be at the end.Homes in the area were built for jihadist veterans and are part of the Arakan suburbs that stretch across Temag to the Sandtide Basin.The walls around the alley are very monotonous, broken only by the tightly closed doors, on which obscenities are scrawled in disorder.Beside this door, someone had written a notice in chalk: A certain Beles had brought to the Arakan a hideous disease that would cripple the man.
"Do you have any companions?" asked the old man.
"It's just me," Scytale said.
The old man cleared his throat, still hesitating.This situation is really driving people crazy.
Scyther reminded herself to be patient.Communicating in this way is inherently dangerous.Maybe the old man has his reasons.Still, the time of day is well chosen.The pale sun shone almost straight overhead.At this hottest time of the day, people are shut up and going to sleep.
Could it be those new neighbors that make the old man uneasy?thought Scyther.He knew that the room next to the old man had been given to Osem, who had been the formidable captain of Freeman's death squad.And Bigas, dwarfed by the chemicals, lives next door to Otham.
Scytale turned his gaze to the old man again and found that the sleeve under his left shoulder was empty.This person faintly reveals an arrogance that overwhelms the heroes.He was no ordinary soldier in jihad.
"May I know the name of the visitor?" the old man asked.
Scytel was relieved that he had finally been accepted. "My name is Zal." He said the name used for this mission.
"My name is Farok." The old man said, "I used to be the Pashar Commander of the Ninth Legion in the Jihad. Do you understand what this means?"
Scyther heard the threat in the words.He said, "Show that you were born in Teb's Cave and serve Stilgar."
Farok relaxed and took a step into the room. "You are welcome." Scyther walked past him into the dark hall.The floors are inlaid with blue tiles, and the crystal decorations on the walls glisten.There is an enclosed courtyard behind the main hall.The light shines through the translucent shed, emitting a milky white light, like the silvery white light emitted by the first moon at night.With a creaking sound, the door facing the street closed behind him.
"We're a noble people," Farok said, leading Scyther toward the backyard, "not aliens from another planet. We wouldn't want to live in some ghost village...like here Place! We have decent burrows in the shield wall on the Habanya Mountains, and it only takes a sandworm to get us to Koden in the middle of the desert."
"Not like it is now," Scytale agreed.He now knew what had brought Farok into their cabal.The Fremen longed for the old days, and the old ways.
They are in the backyard.
Scytale knew that Farok was trying to hide his distaste for the visitor.The Fremen never trusted those who didn't have Ibad's spice blue in their eyes, thinking they were strangers, always looking here and there, looking at things they shouldn't see.
As they entered, the Samuta music stopped and was replaced by music played by the balish kuna, followed by a song that was very popular on Narigi.
Scytale's eyes gradually adjusted to the light in the room, and he saw a young man sitting cross-legged on a low couch by an archway to his right.Only two empty eye sockets remained in the young man's eyes.He began to sing, with the strange tone of a blind man.Scyther watched him closely.The singing is high pitched and sweet.
Skelter noted that the lyrics were all reworked.Farok led him away from the singing youths to the opposite archway, pointing to a few cushions thrown on the tiled floor painted with sea creatures.
"One of the cushions was used by Muad'di in the cave." Farok pointed to a round and black cushion. "Sit on it."
"It's an honor," Scytale said, plopping down on the black cushion, smiling.Farok has a wit of his own.This wise philosopher, speaking words of allegiance, listens to songs that imply disapproval.That tyrant had indeed terrible power.
Farok spoke over the singing, without disturbing the tune at all: "Does my son's music bother you?"
Scytale turned the cushion to face him, leaning her back against a cool stone pillar. "I like music."
"My son lost his eyes during the battle of Narij," said Farok. It's surprising that there's a grandson on Ji that he may never see. Do you know Narigi, Zaar?"
"Went there with fellow Face Changers when I was younger."
"Then you're a face-changer," Farok said. "No wonder your appearance is a little different. It reminds me of an acquaintance."
"Duncan Idaho?"
"Yes, that is the man. One of the emperor's swordsmen."
"He was killed, it is said."
"There's talk of that," Farok agreed. "Are you really a man? I've heard some sort of legend about face-changers..." He shrugged.
"We're Jedaka intersex," Scytel said. "You can switch genders at will. For now, I'm a man."
Farok pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Would you like a drink? Water, or frozen juice?"
"Just having a good conversation is enough to satisfy me," Skelter said.
"A guest's request is an order," Farok said, sitting down on a cushion, facing Scyther.
"Blessed is Abu Dar, god of the infinite paths of time," said Scythel.He thought: OK!I've told him directly that I'm from the Guild, and I'm under cover as a navigator.
"Bless Abu Dar," Farok said.He clasped his hands and folded them on his chest as required by the ritual.It was a pair of old and blue-veined hands.
“From a distance, an object may not be what it really is,” Skelter said, hinting that he hoped to discuss the situation at the palace.
"Something dark and evil is evil from any distance," Farok said, as if to delay the question.
Why?Scyther was puzzled.But he still remained calm, "How did your son become blind?"
"Narigi's resisters used a lava bomb," Farok said. "My son got too close. Damn atomic weapons! Lava bombs should be outlawed too."
"It's playing around with the law," agrees Scytel.At the same time, I thought: Lava bombs on the planet Narigi!We've never heard of such a thing.Why did the old man mention lava bombs at this time?
"I thought about buying him a pair of Trealax Eyes from your master," said Farok, "but there is a legend in the Legion that a Trealax Eye can control its wielder. I My son told me that the combination of metal eyes and his flesh and blood is sinful."
“The origin of something has to match its original intent,” Skelter said, trying to turn the conversation to his own concerns.
Farok curled his lips, but still nodded, "Just say what you want." He said, "We should trust you navigators."
"Have you ever been to the palace?" Scytale asked.
"Went at Moritel's victory party. The stone house was cold, despite the best Exa space heaters. We stayed the night before on the Terrace of the Temple of Alia. You know, he was there There are woods, trees brought from many planets. We pashars wear the best green robes, and there is a table for each person, eating and drinking. And saw a very sad thing: a row of Wounded soldiers came, staggering, on crutches. Our Muad'di may not know how many men he has destroyed."
"You resent such a banquet?" Scytale asked.He knew of the after-spice beer revels of the Fremen.
"It's not the same as mind melding in the Cave," Farok said. "There's no Tao here. It's just entertainment. Warriors feast on slave girls, and men tell stories of their battles and show off their wounds."
"So you've been inside that mass of stone buildings," Scytel said.
"Muad'di met us on the terrace," Farok said. "'Lucky everyone,' he said. Greetings in the desert, but there!"
"Do you know where his private chamber is?" Scytale asked.
"Somewhere in the innermost part of the palace," Farok said. "It is said that he and Jani still live the life of desert wanderers, but all within the high walls. The public audience is in the hall, and he has a special The meeting hall and the formal meeting place, the palace wing is full of his guards. There are also places for ceremonies and a communication center. It is said that there is a house deep below the castle, in which a stunted sand worms, surrounded by deep ditches that poison the sandworms. There he predicts the future."
Legend plus fact, Scytale thought.
"He takes all the ministries with him wherever he goes," grumbled Farok, "government clerks and entourages, and entourages of entourages. He only trusts people like Stilgar, his old men who used to be. "
"Not including you," Scytale said.
"I think he's forgotten there's me," Farok said.
"How did he get in and out of the palace?" Scytale asked.
"He had a small orpter pad that protruded from an interior wall," Farok said. "It is said that Moaddi forbade people from landing there. It required a special method of handling, a lapse in judgment." , the spaceship will hit the wall and fall in his goddamn garden." Scytale nodded.That's quite possibly true.Entering the emperor's residence through such an air passage did guarantee the emperor's safety to some extent.The Atreides are good pilots.
"He uses people to carry his own Mipo messages," Farok said. "These people have Mipo translators implanted in their bodies. This way, the voice they make becomes that of the Emperor himself. A man should The right to control one's own voice should not be a vehicle for someone else's voice."
Scytale shrugged.In this day and age, all the big people use secret wave information, because no one can tell what barriers exist between the sender and the receiver of the information.It is impossible to decipher the dense wave information, because its essence is the natural human voice, but the waveform changes slightly, and then the most complex scrambling coding is performed on this basis.
"Even his tax officials use this method," Farok complained. "In our time, Mibo information was only implanted in lower animals."
But tax information really should be kept private, Scytel thought.More than one government has fallen because the people knew of the vast wealth it had amassed.
"What do the Fremen soldiers think of Muad'di's jihad?" Scytel asked. "Are they against turning the emperor into a god?"
"Most people don't even think about it," Farok said. "Most people think of jihad the same way I did. They think of jihad as a singular experience, risk and fortune. I live in This kind of shabby house——" Farok gestured towards the backyard, "spent sixty lidas worth of spices. A whole ninety camels! Such a large fortune was unimaginable at that time." He said He shook his head again and again.
They walked through the back yard, where the blind young man was playing a love song on his kuna.
Ninety camels, Scytale thought.There is no doubt that this is a great fortune.On many worlds, Farok's Shack can be bought for as much as a palace.But everything in the universe is interconnected, and "Camel" is no exception.For example, does Farok know where this unit of measure for spices comes from?A camel can only carry one and a half spices at most. Has Farok ever thought about this?Impossible to think about.Farok had probably never heard of camels, or of the Golden Age on Earth.
Farok began to speak, in a tone that matched strangely the melody of his son's kuna. "I have a screeching knife, and a ten-liter ring of water, and a spear passed down from my father, a coffee-making set, and an old red glass bottle of unknown age. I am one of our spices , but I have no money. I am rich but I don't feel it. I have two wives: one is plain but loves me very much. The other is stupid and stubborn but has the looks and body of an angel. I used to be a Remaneb, a knight of sandworms, a conqueror of deserts and monsters."
The melody of the young men on the other side of the courtyard quickened the tempo.
"I know many things so well I don't even need to think about them," said Farok. "I know that deep in the sand there is water, sealed there by the Little Maker. I also know that our ancestors sacrificed virgins. Sacrifice Xia Hulu... But it was forbidden by Let Cairns. I once saw jewels in the mouth of a sandworm. My soul has four doors, and I am very familiar with each door."
He was silent, thoughtful.
"And then came the Atreides and his witch mother," Scytale said.
"Here comes the Atreides," agreed Farok, "the one who is called Yosok in our lair, as we call him in private. Our Muad'di, Muad'dhi! He When the jihad was being waged, some people and I used to ask: 'Why are we going to fight? It has nothing to do with us.' Others went - young people, my friends, my childhood buddies .They talked about magic when they came back, and the supernatural powers of this Atreides savior. He fought against our enemies, the Harkonnen. He was also blessed by Let Cairns who promised us happiness. It is said that this The Atreides also intend to change our world, our universe. He is the one who can make golden flowers bloom at night."
Farok raised his hands and looked at his palms. "People point to moon number one and say, 'His soul is there.' So he becomes Muhammad. I don't understand."
He put down his hands, looked across the courtyard, and looked at his son, "I don't have any thoughts in my head, my thoughts are only in my heart, in my stomach."
The tempo of the music picked up.
"Do you know why I participated in the jihad?" The old man's eyes fixed on Scytale, "I heard that there is something called the sea. Living on our planet Dune, such a thing as the sea is really unimaginable ...we don't have the sea. The people on the dunes never knew the sea. We have wind catchers and we collect water because Lett Cairns promises big changes...big changes that Muad'di can bring with a wave of his hand. I can imagine an open channel with flowing water, and I can roughly imagine a river from the open channel. But what about the sea? I can’t figure it out.”
Farok looked at the translucent canopy in the backyard, as if trying to figure out what was going on in the universe outside. "The sea," he said, in a low voice, "I can't picture it in my head. People I know have seen this spectacle. But I think they're lying, and I have to see it for myself. So I sign up .”
The young man's jijon struck a final high note, and then struck a new tune.The rhythm is weird, with ups and downs.
"Have you found the sea?" Scytale asked.
Farok was silent, and Scytale thought the old man hadn't heard him.The music coiled around them, rising and falling like the ebb and flow of the tide.Scyther gasped.
"It's sunset," Farok said after a pause. "Old painters might have painted a sunset like that. There's red in it, the same color as this bottle of mine. But it's actually gold . . . There's blue. It's that planet we call Infel, where I fought with my legion. We came out of the mountains, through a thick mist of water. I couldn't breathe because of the mist. It was there. , under my feet, I saw what my friends said: a huge water, with no edge or end. The team rushed down from a high place. I waded into the water and drank my fill. It was very painful , uncomfortable. But I never forgot the spectacle."
Scytale found himself, like the old man, awed by the wonders of nature.
"I submerge myself in seawater," Farok said, looking down at the patterns of aquatic life on the tiled floor. "I sank as a person, and when I resurfaced... I was a different person. I felt Remembering a past that didn't exist, I looked around with new eyes that could accept everything—everything. I saw a corpse in the water...a resister we had killed. The surface of the nearby water There was a piece of wood floating on it, a big burnt tree. I can see that piece of wood now when I close my eyes, one end was blackened by the fire. There was also a piece of clothing floating in the water, which was just a yellow rag ...torn and filthy. Looking at these things, I know why they came to me—for me to see."
Farok turned slowly and looked into Scytale's eyes. "You know, the universe is endless," he said.
The old guy was babbling, but there was something profound, Scytale thought."I could see it, that experience affected you deeply," he said.
"You are a Trealax," said Farok. "You have seen many seas. I have only seen that one sea, but I know things about seas that you do not." Suddenly Scytale Feeling a strange unease.
"Mother Chaos was born of the sea," said Farok. "When I came out of the water, wet, I found Chizala Taverweed standing by. He didn't go into the sea, he stood on the sand. On... wet sand... Some of my men were as afraid of the sea as he was. He looked at me, the way he knew I understood something he would never understand. I became a Sea life, it scares him. The sea heals me from jihad and he sees it."
Scytel noticed that the music stopped while the old man was narrating.But what disturbed him was that he didn't know when the sound of the nine-stringed zither stopped.Farok said emphatically, "There are guards guarding every door, and there is no way to enter the palace." As if this sentence had something to do with what he just said.
"But that's precisely the weak link of the palace," Skelter said.
Farok looked up at him.
"There is a way to get into the palace," Scytel explained. "Most people don't believe that—hopefully the Emperor doesn't either—think that the rebels can only get in by other means. . . . Favorable." He wiped his lips, feeling that the face he had chosen was different from ordinary people.The musician's silence made him very uneasy: Does it mean that the signal sent by Farok's son has been transmitted?That music must have been a secret signal, picked up by his scytale's nervous system, and at just the right moment, the message would be activated by a secret wave translator implanted in his adrenal cortex.Now that the transmission was over, he became a vessel, carrying a content of which he knew nothing, full of data of all kinds: every branch of the Arrakisian cabal, every participant The name of the person, the code word for each contact...all the important information is in it.
Armed with this information, they would be able to incite Arrakis, capture a sandworm, and start their own spice culture somewhere outside Muad'di's power.They can break the spice monopoly and beat Muad'di.With this information, they can do a lot, a lot.
"The woman is with us," Farok said. "Do you want to see her now?"
"I've seen her," Scytale said, "and studied her. Where is she?"
Farok snapped his fingers.
The young man picked up the three-stringed qin and plucked the strings, and suddenly the music of Samuta sounded softly.
As if being moved by the music, a young woman wrapped in a blue robe slowly walked out from the doorway behind the musician.Her Ibad spice-blue eyes were glazed over by the drug.This is a Fremen, addicted to spices, and also infected with alien vices.She was so engrossed in Samuta's music that she didn't know where she was.
"Otham's daughter," said Farok, "my son drugged her. He's blind, and that's the only way he could get himself a native girl. But you see, his victory has nothing to do with it." Pointless. Samuta music took away what he hoped for."
"Don't her father know?" Scytale asked.
“She doesn’t even know it,” Farok said. “Every time she visits, my son provides her with a false set of memories that makes her think she’s in love with him. So does her family. They are very upset because my son is not a whole man. However, they will not interfere."
The music whizzed and gradually stopped.
The musician made a sign, and the young woman came and sat down next to him, listening to him as he whispered.
"What are your plans for her?" Farok asked.
Scytale looked carefully at the backyard again. "Is there anyone else in the house?" he asked.
"Everyone's here," Farok said. "You haven't told me what you're going to do to this woman. My son wants to know."
Scytale waved his right arm, as if ready to answer his question.Suddenly, a gleaming sharp dart shot out from his sleeve, and shot silently at Farok's neck.There was not a cry, not even a change in the posture of the body.Farok would be dead in a minute, but he couldn't move, immobilized by the poison on the dart.
Scytale stood up slowly and walked towards the blind musician.He was still whispering to the young woman when the dart shot into his body.
Scytale grabbed the young woman's arm and lifted her up gently, before she noticed, his face changed quickly.She stood up straight and stared at him blankly.
"What's the matter, Farok?" she asked.
"My son is tired and needs a rest," Skelter said. "Come on, let's go to the back."
"We had a good talk," she said. "I've convinced him to buy the eyes of a Trealax and become a sane man."
"Didn't I try to persuade him again and again?" Scytle said, urging her toward the back of the house.
He was so proud to find his voice in harmony with that face.There was no doubt that it was the voice of the old Freemen man, who must be dead by now.
Scyther sighed.At least the killing had been done mercifully, he told himself, and besides, the two victims knew what they were risking.But this woman, she should be given a chance.
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