It means mystery and prestige. It means power. It invokes a license to act in the name of God.
"Siaynoq! Siaynoq! Siaynoq!"
The word had a sour sound in Moneo's ears.
They were well into the city, almost to the central plaza. Afternoon sunlight came down the Royal Road behind the procession to illuminate the way. It gave brilliance to the citizenry's colorful costumes. It shone on the upturned faces of the Fish Speakers lining the way.
Marching beside the cart with the guards, Idaho put down a first alarm as the chant continued. He asked one of the Fish Speakers beside him about it.
"It is not a word for men," she said. "But sometimes the Lord shares Siaynoq with a Duncan."
A Duncan! He had asked Leto about it earlier and disliked the mysterious evasions.
"You will learn about it soon enough."
Idaho relegated the chant to the background while he looked around him with a tourist's curiosity. In preparation for his duties as Guard Commander, Idaho had inquired after the history of Onn, finding that he shared Leto's wry amusement in the fact that it was the Idaho River flowing nearby.
They had been in one of the large open rooms of the Citadel at the time, an airy place full of morning light and with wide tables upon which Fish Speaker archivists had spread charts of the Sareer and of Onn. Leto had wheeled his cart onto a ramp which allowed him to look down on the charts. Idaho stood across a chart-littered table from him studying the plan of the Festival City.
"Peculiar design for a city," Idaho mused.
"It has one primary purpose-public viewing of the God Emperor."
Idaho looked up at the segmented body on the cart, brought his gaze to the cowled face. He wondered if he would ever find it easy to look on that bizarre figure.
"But that's only once every ten years," Idaho said.
"At the Great Sharing, yes."
"And you just close it down between times?"
"The embassies are there, the offices of the trading factors, the Fish Speaker schools, the service and maintenance cadres, the museums and libraries."
"What space do they take?" Idaho rapped the chart with his knuckles, "A tenth of the City at most?"
"Less than that."
Idaho let his gaze wander pensively over the chart.
"Are there other purposes in this design, m'Lord?"
"It is dominated by the need for public viewing of my person."
"There must be clerks, government workers, even common laborers. Where do they live?"
"Mostly in the suburbs."
Idaho pointed at the chart. "These tiers of apartments?"
"Note the balconies, Duncan."
"All around the plaza." He leaned close to peer down at the chart. "That plaza is two kilometers across!"
"Note how the balconies are set back in steps right up to the ring of spires. The elite are lodged in the spires."
"And they can all look down on you in the plaza?"
"You do not like that?"
"There's not even an energy barrier to protect you!"
"What an inviting target I make."
"Why do you do it?"
"There is a delightful myth about the design of Onn. I foster and promote the myth. It is said that once there lived a people whose ruler was required to walk among them once a year in total darkness, without weapons or armor. The mythical ruler wore a luminescent suit while he made his walk through the night-shrouded throng of his subjects. And his subjects-they wore black for the occasion and were never searched for weapons."
"What's that have to do with Onn... and you?"
"Well, obviously, if the ruler survived his walk, he was a good ruler."
"You don't search for weapons?"
"Not openly."
"You think people see you in this myth." It was not a question.
"Many do."
Idaho stared up at Leto's face deep in its gray cowl. The blue-on-blue eyes stared back at him without expression.
Melange eyes, Idaho thought. But Leto said he no longer consumed any spice. His body supplied what spice his addiction demanded.
"You don't like my holy obscenity, my enforced tranquility," Leto said.
"I don't like you playing god!"
"But a god can conduct the Empire as a musical conductor guides a symphony through its movements. My performance is limited only by my restriction to Arrakis. I must direct the symphony from here."
Idaho shook his head and looked once more at the city plan. "What're these apartments behind the spires?"
"Lesser accommodations for our visitors."
"They can't see the plaza."
"But they can. Ixian devices project my image into those rooms."
"And the inner ring looks directly down on you. How do you enter the plaza?"
"A presentation stage rises from the center to display me to my people."
"Do they cheer?" Idaho looked directly into Leto's eyes.
"They are permitted to cheer."
"You Atreides always did see yourselves as part of history."
"How astute of you to understand a cheer's meaning."
Idaho returned his attention to the city map. "And the Fish Speaker schools are here?"
"Under your left hand, yes. That's the academy where Siona was sent to be educated. She was ten at the time."
"Siona... I must learn more about her," Idaho mused.
"I assure you that nothing will get in the way of your desire."
As he marched along in the Royal peregrination, Idaho was lifted from his reverie by awareness that the Fish Speaker chant was diminishing. Ahead of him, the Royal Cart had begun its descent into the chambers beneath the plaza, rolling down a long ramp. Idaho, still in sunlight, looked up and around at the glistening spires-this reality for which the charts had not prepared him. People crowded the balconies of the great tiered ring around the plaza, silent people who stared down at the procession.