The bird took another hop closer to Kynes' outstretched hand. Two more hawks drifted down to the sand behind it.
"Religion and law among our masses must be one and the same," his father said. "An act of disobedience must be a sin and require religious penalties. This will have the dual benefit of bringing both greater obedience and greater bravery. We must depend not so much on the bravery of individuals, you see, as upon the bravery of a whole population."
Where is my population now when I need it most? Kynes thought. He summoned all his strength, moved his hand a finger's width toward the nearest hawk. It hopped backward among its companions and all stood poised for flight.
"Our timetable, will achieve the stature of a natural phenomenon," his father said. "A planet's life is a vast, tightly interwoven fabric. Vegetation and animal changes will be determined at first by the raw physical forces we manipulate. As they establish themselves, though, our changes will become controlling influences in their own right - and we will have to deal with them, too. Keep in mind, though, that we need control only three per cent of the energy surface - only three per cent - to tip the entire structure over into our self-sustaining system."
Why aren't you helping me? Kynes wondered. Always the same: when I need you most, you fail me . He wanted to turn his head, to stare in the direction of his father's voice, stare the old man down. Muscles refused to answer his demand.
Kynes saw the hawk move. It approached his hand, a cautious step at a time while its companions waited in mock indifference. The hawk stopped only a hop away from his hand.
A profound clarity filled Kynes' mind. He saw quite suddenly a potential for Arrakis that his father had never seen. The possibilities along that different path flooded through him.
"No more terrible disaster could befall your people than for them to fall into the hands of a Hero," his father said.
Reading my mind! Kynes thought. Well . . . let him .
The messages already have been sent to my sietch villages , he thought. Nothing can stop them. If the Duke's son is alive they'll find him and protect him as I have commanded. They may discard the woman, his mother, but they'll save the boy .
The hawk took one hop that brought it within slashing distance of his hand. It tipped its head to examine the supine flesh. Abruptly, it straightened, stretched its head upward and with a single screech, leaped into the air and banked away overhead with its companions behind it.
They've come! Kynes thought. My Fremen have found me!
Then he heard the sand rumbling.
Every Fremen knew the sound, could distinguish it immediately from the noises of worms or other desert life. Somewhere beneath him, the pre-spice mass had accumulated enough water and organic matter from the little makers, had reached the critical stage of wild growth. A gigantic bubble of carbon dioxide was forming deep in the sand, heaving upward in an enormous "blow" with a dust whirlpool at its center. It would exchange what had been formed deep in the sand for whatever lay on the surface.
The hawks circled overhead screeching their frustration. They knew what was happening. Any desert creature would know.
And I am a desert creature , Kynes thought. You see me, Father? I am a desert creature.
He felt the bubble lift him, felt it break and the dust whirlpool engulf him, dragging him down into cool darkness. For a moment, the sensation of coolness and the moisture were blessed relief. Then, as his planet killed him, it occurred to Kynes that his father and all the other scientists were wrong, that the most persistent principles of the universe were accident and error.
Even the hawks could appreciate these facts.
Prophecy and prescience - How can they be put to the test in the face of the unanswered questions? Consider: How much is actual prediction of the "waveform" (as Muad'Dib referred to his vision-image) and how much is the prophet shaping the future to fit the prophecy? What of the harmonics inherent in the act of prophecy? Does the prophet see the future or does he see a line of weakness, a fault or cleavage that he may shatter with words or decisions as a diamond-cutter shatters his gem with a blow of a knife?
- "Private Reflections on Muad'Dib" by the Princess Irulan
"Get their water ," the man calling out of the night had said. And Paul fought down his fear, glanced at his mother. His trained eyes saw her readiness for battle, the waiting whipsnap of her muscles.
"It would be regrettable should we have to destroy you out of hand," the voice above them said.
That's the one who spoke to us first , Jessica thought. There are at least two of them - one to our right and one on our left .
"Cignoro hrobosa sukares hin mange la pchagavas doi me kamavas na beslas lele pal hrobas!"
It was the man to their right calling out across the basin.
To Paul, the words were gibberish, but out of her Bene Gesserit training, Jessica recognized the speech. It was Chakobsa, one of the ancient hunting languages, and the man above them was saying that perhaps these were the strangers they sought.
In the sudden silence that followed the calling voice, the hoop-wheel face of the second moon - faintly ivory blue - rolled over the rocks across the basin, bright and peering.
Scrambling sounds came from the rocks - above and to both sides . . . dark motions in the moonlight. Many figures flowed through the shadows.
A whole troop! Paul thought with a sudden pang.
A tall man in a mottled burnoose stepped in front of Jessica. His mouth baffle was thrown aside for clear speech, revealing a heavy beard in the sidelight of the moon, but face and eyes were hidden in the overhang of his hood.
"What have we here - jinn or human?" he asked.