such a sad waste. And he reminded himself: I
must not falter. What I do is done to be certain my Wanna no longer can be hurt
by the Harkonnen beasts.
Paul joined him at the table, buttoning his jacket. “What’ll I be studying
on the way across?”
“Ah-?h-?h-?h, the terranic life forms of Arrakis. The planet seems to have
opened its arms to certain terranic life forms. It’s not clear how. I must seek
out the planetary ecologist when we arrive — a Dr. Kynes — and offer my help
in the investigation.”
And Yueh thought: What am I saying? I play the hypocrite even with myself.
“Will there be something on the Fremen?” Paul asked.
“The Fremen?” Yueh drummed his fingers on the table, caught Paul staring at
the nervous motion, withdrew his hand.
“Maybe you have something on the whole Arrakeen population,” Paul said.
“Yes, to be sure,” Yueh said. “There are two general separations of the
people — Fremen, they are one group, and the others are the people of the
graben, the sink, and the pan. There’s some intermarriage, I’m told. The women
of pan and sink villages prefer Fremen husbands; their men prefer Fremen wives.
They have a saying: ‘Polish comes from the cities; wisdom from the desert.’ ”
“Do you have pictures of them?”
“I’ll see what I can get you. The most interesting feature, of course, is
their eyes — totally blue, no whites in them.”
“Mutation?”
“No; it’s linked to saturation of the blood with melange.”
“The Fremen must be brave to live at the edge of that desert.”
“By all accounts,” Yueh said. “They compose poems to their knives. Their
women are as fierce as the men. Even Fremen children are violent and dangerous.
You’ll not be permitted to mingle with them, I daresay.”
Paul stared at Yueh, finding in these few glimpses of the Fremen a power of
words that caught his entire attention. What a people to win as allies!
“And the worms?” Paul asked.
“What?”
“I’d like to study more about the sandworms.”
“Ah-?h-?h-?h, to be sure. I’ve a filmbook on a small specimen, only one hundred
and ten meters long and twenty-?two meters in diameter. It was taken in the
northern latitudes. Worms of more than four hundred meters in length have been
recorded by reliable witnesses, and there’s reason to believe even larger ones
exist.”
Paul glanced down at a conical projection chart of the northern Arrakeen
latitudes spread on the table. “The desert belt and south polar regions are
marked uninhabitable. Is it the worms?”
“And the storms.”
“But any place can be made habitable.”
“If it’s economically feasible,” Yueh said. “Arrakis has many costly
perils.” He smoothed his drooping mustache. “Your father will be here soon.
Before I go, I’ve a gift for you, something I came across in packing.” He put an
object on the table between them — black, oblong, no larger than the end of
Paul’s thumb.
Paul looked at it. Yueh noted how the boy did not reach for it, and thought:
How cautious he is.
“It’s a very old Orange Catholic Bible made for space travelers. Not a
filmbook, but actually printed on filament paper. It has its own magnifier and
electrostatic charge system.” He picked it up, demonstrated. “The book is held
closed by the charge, which forces against spring-?locked covers. You press the
edge — thus, and the pages you’ve selected repel each other and the book
opens.”
“It’s so small.”
“But it has eighteen hundred pages. You press the edge — thus, and so . . .
and the charge moves ahead one page at a time as you read. Never touch the
actual pages with your fingers. The filament tissue is too delicate.” He closed
the book, handed it to Paul. “Try it.”
Yueh watched Paul work the page adjustment, thought: I salve my own
conscience. I give him the surcease of religion before betraying him. Thus may I
say to myself that he has gone where I
must not falter. What I do is done to be certain my Wanna no longer can be hurt
by the Harkonnen beasts.
Paul joined him at the table, buttoning his jacket. “What’ll I be studying
on the way across?”
“Ah-?h-?h-?h, the terranic life forms of Arrakis. The planet seems to have
opened its arms to certain terranic life forms. It’s not clear how. I must seek
out the planetary ecologist when we arrive — a Dr. Kynes — and offer my help
in the investigation.”
And Yueh thought: What am I saying? I play the hypocrite even with myself.
“Will there be something on the Fremen?” Paul asked.
“The Fremen?” Yueh drummed his fingers on the table, caught Paul staring at
the nervous motion, withdrew his hand.
“Maybe you have something on the whole Arrakeen population,” Paul said.
“Yes, to be sure,” Yueh said. “There are two general separations of the
people — Fremen, they are one group, and the others are the people of the
graben, the sink, and the pan. There’s some intermarriage, I’m told. The women
of pan and sink villages prefer Fremen husbands; their men prefer Fremen wives.
They have a saying: ‘Polish comes from the cities; wisdom from the desert.’ ”
“Do you have pictures of them?”
“I’ll see what I can get you. The most interesting feature, of course, is
their eyes — totally blue, no whites in them.”
“Mutation?”
“No; it’s linked to saturation of the blood with melange.”
“The Fremen must be brave to live at the edge of that desert.”
“By all accounts,” Yueh said. “They compose poems to their knives. Their
women are as fierce as the men. Even Fremen children are violent and dangerous.
You’ll not be permitted to mingle with them, I daresay.”
Paul stared at Yueh, finding in these few glimpses of the Fremen a power of
words that caught his entire attention. What a people to win as allies!
“And the worms?” Paul asked.
“What?”
“I’d like to study more about the sandworms.”
“Ah-?h-?h-?h, to be sure. I’ve a filmbook on a small specimen, only one hundred
and ten meters long and twenty-?two meters in diameter. It was taken in the
northern latitudes. Worms of more than four hundred meters in length have been
recorded by reliable witnesses, and there’s reason to believe even larger ones
exist.”
Paul glanced down at a conical projection chart of the northern Arrakeen
latitudes spread on the table. “The desert belt and south polar regions are
marked uninhabitable. Is it the worms?”
“And the storms.”
“But any place can be made habitable.”
“If it’s economically feasible,” Yueh said. “Arrakis has many costly
perils.” He smoothed his drooping mustache. “Your father will be here soon.
Before I go, I’ve a gift for you, something I came across in packing.” He put an
object on the table between them — black, oblong, no larger than the end of
Paul’s thumb.
Paul looked at it. Yueh noted how the boy did not reach for it, and thought:
How cautious he is.
“It’s a very old Orange Catholic Bible made for space travelers. Not a
filmbook, but actually printed on filament paper. It has its own magnifier and
electrostatic charge system.” He picked it up, demonstrated. “The book is held
closed by the charge, which forces against spring-?locked covers. You press the
edge — thus, and the pages you’ve selected repel each other and the book
opens.”
“It’s so small.”
“But it has eighteen hundred pages. You press the edge — thus, and so . . .
and the charge moves ahead one page at a time as you read. Never touch the
actual pages with your fingers. The filament tissue is too delicate.” He closed
the book, handed it to Paul. “Try it.”
Yueh watched Paul work the page adjustment, thought: I salve my own
conscience. I give him the surcease of religion before betraying him. Thus may I
say to myself that he has gone where I
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