nothing better than to join in it. But this no longer can be play. Tomorrow we
go to Arrakis. Arrakis is real. The Harkonnens are real.”
Paul touched his forehead with his rapier blade held vertical.
Halleck turned, saw the salute and acknowledged it with a nod. He gestured
to the practice dummy. “Now, we’ll work on your timing. Let me see you catch
that thing sinister. I’ll control it from over here where I can have a full view
of the action. And I warn you I’ll be trying new counters today. There’s a
warning you’d not get from a real enemy.”
Paul stretched up on his toes to relieve his muscles. He felt solemn with
the sudden realization that his life had become filled with swift changes. He
crossed to the dummy, slapped the switch on its chest with his rapier tip and
felt the defensive field forcing his blade away.
“En garde!” Halleck called, and the dummy pressed the attack.
Paul activated his shield, parried and countered.
Halleck watched as he manipulated the controls. His mind seemed to be in two
parts: one alert to the needs of the training fight, and the other wandering in
fly-?buzz.
I’m the well-?trained fruit tree, he thought. Full of well-?trained feelings
and abilities and all of them grafted onto me — all bearing for someone else to
pick.
For some reason, he recalled his younger sister, her elfin face so clear in
his mind. But she was dead now — in a pleasure house for Harkonnen troops. She
had loved pansies . . . or was it daisies? He couldn’t remember. It bothered him
that he couldn’t remember.
Paul countered a slow swing of the dummy, brought up his left hand
entretisser.
That clever little devil! Halleck thought, intent now on Paul’s interweaving
hand motions. He’s been practicing and studying on his own. That’s not Duncan’s
style, and it’s certainly nothing I’ve taught him.
This thought only added to Halleck’s sadness. I’m infected by mood, he
thought. And he began to wonder about Paul, if the boy ever listened fearfully
to his pillow throbbing in the night.
“If wishes were fishes we’d all cast nets,” he murmured.
It was his mother’s expression and he always used it when he felt the
blackness of tomorrow on him. Then he thought what an odd expression that was to
be taking to a planet that had never known seas or fishes.
= = = = = =
YUEH (yu’e), Wellington (weling-?tun), Stdrd 10,082-10,191; medical doctor of the
Suk School (grd Stdrd 10,112); md: Wanna Marcus, B.G. (Stdrd 10,092-10,186?);
chiefly noted as betrayer of Duke Leto Atreides. (Cf: Bibliography, Appendix VII
[Imperial Conditioning] and Betrayal, The.)
-from “Dictionary of Muad’Dib” by the Princess Irulan
Although he heard Dr. Yueh enter the training room, noting the stiff
deliberation of the man’s pace, Paul remained stretched out face down on the
exercise table where the masseuse had left him. He felt deliciously relaxed
after the workout with Gurney Halleck.
“You do look comfortable,” said Yueh in his calm, high-?pitched voice.
Paul raised his head, saw the man’s stick figure standing several paces
away, took in at a glance the wrinkled black clothing, the square block of a
head with purple lips and drooping mustache, the diamond tattoo of Imperial
Conditioning on his forehead, the long black hair caught in the Suk School’s
silver ring at the left shoulder.
“You’ll be happy to hear we haven’t time for regular lessons today,” Yueh
said. “Your father will be along presently.”
Paul sat up.
“However, I’ve arranged for you to have a filmbook viewer and several
lessons during the crossing to Arrakis.”
“Oh.”
Paul began pulling on his clothes. He felt excitement that his father would
be coming. They had spent so little time together since the Emperor’s command to
take over the fief of Arrakis.
Yueh crossed to the ell table, thinking: How the boy has filled out these
past few months. Such a waste! Oh,
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