DUNE REVENANT

(20525  A.G.)  The present inquiry of the Fish Speaker Schools has its origins in a long forgotten crisis. Knowledge of the events surrounding the millennia  called  the  Scattering, and subsequently, the great Integration that  followed  is  critical to understand the people of that ancient time. The  discipline  of the Spice Dreamers and their ability to reconstruct and disseminate  the  personae of "our past humanity" has provided us a tool of utmost  importance.  Through  their efforts, we have discovered a wealth of archaeological information, a temporal strata opened to us that has allowed a reconstruction of what in ancient times would have been called "history". Remember that Multiple Memories and Persona Shifting were not common traits of  our  human  ancestors.  This  fact  was  among  the  most  alarming and revolutionary  of  all  those  made by the Spice Dreamers -- peoples' minds were once solitary and alone.
     - Sociotemprint of the Fish Speaker School Idah-Mirabla

Duinain  stood  alone at a podium facing a crowd that filled the Great Hall  to  capacity.  The hall held over a million people, which made it the prefect  meeting place for the First Millennial Celebration of the founding of the Fish Speaker Schools, but this is not what held Duinain's interest. 
I  stand  before  a  million  Individuals,  but my thoughts are on the design of this place
The design of the Great Hall of the Idah-Mirabla School was influenced by  the  original  Temple to St. Alia of the Knife. Although Rakis had been destroyed  some  two thousand years before, the blueprint of the temple had been saved in a ridulian crystal.
Legend says recorded by the Tyrant God Guldur himself.  
Guldur must have cherished the design himself, the sweeping bow of the thousand  meter  outer  wall leading to the "knife", a thousand meter spire rising above. Duinain called him by the common name of Guldur, although, as a  historian,  he  knew  the  Tyrant  God's name was actually Leto II. This thought  out  of  time  pleased  Duinain,  and calmed him as he prepared to speak.
The  Temple  to  St.  Alia  was  chosen  for  size,  although  several structures  on  various  Fish  Speaker  worlds would have sufficed. All the major  schools  were  convening here on the planet Ouadra, however, for its rich  history dating back to the first dozen Fish Speaker Schools. Known in ancient  times as Chapterhouse, Oudara was home of the Idah-Mirabla School, the  school  Duinain  acted  as  chosen  representative  for  during  these celebrations.  Hundreds  of  events surrounded the Millennial Celebrations, each suited to the quasi-familial roles and goal-groups the various schools were founded on, as well as lectures to be given by representatives of each of  the  Fish  Speaker Schools. Duinain looked across at the banners of the various  groups  and  listed  them  off  to himself, once again to calm his nerves  as  the  roar  of the shuffling crowd calmed in preparation for his lecture.
Harkon-Mohia;  Chani-Tej,  Hallac-Ouadra,  even  members of Hayt-Scytl abandoned their isolationist views for these events.
Some  discussions  were specialized for smaller interest groups, while several  dozen  speakers  were to address the entire assembly, all over the course  of  several standard months. The celebrations had been going on for over  a  week  when Duinain was scheduled to given that days lecture to the entire assembly. The suspensor-card read the title of his lecture as to all those who entered the hall:

Spice Dreaming as a Technique of Historical Archaeology
Idah-Mirabla Fish Speaker School
presented by
Duinian ibn Idah7 Idah-Mirabla
Sociotemprint Archaeologist

As  he began, sometime after the movements settled, gradually entering into  what for Duinain mark a lifetime achievement, His eyes fixed upon the prizmatic  colors  of  the  Sun-Sweep Window calendar at the far end of the hall.
I  look into the pathways of light in this ancient calendar, as I take steps to undo what we all know as Time.
The  crowd  of  nearly a million reached an eerie silence, and Duinain began.

“We  are  assembled  here  in reverence to the accomplishments of that thousand  years of progress historically called the Integration. Before our ancestral  schools were formed, in those ages when the Scattering was ended and  the Returning commenced, a great overcoming took place. Today we stand here  as  a  testament  to  both  our  individual  Schools'  irreconcilable uniqueness  as  well as our ability to retain the Individual amidst such an Integration.  We  are  in agreement that the archaic concept of humanity, although of only minor significance to Individual life, once was a rallying word  for  pre-Integration  beings.  While  Persona  Shifting  and Multiple Memories  have  become  common  traits  among  Individuals in all the major Schools,  the  question of how these changes came about has long remained a mystery.  The  origins of the Fish Speaker Schools are shrouded in the lost ancient  histories, but a recent historical archaeological technique, Spice Dreaming,  has  uncovered keys to this lost past. In much the same way that Guild  Navigators  once  folded space as a means of space travel, the Spice Dreamers have learned to fold consciousness as a means of time travel."
     “We  are  a  people  riddled  by  questions.  How have we acquired the variety  of  Schools  we  know today? What is our origin? Different Schools approach   this  knowledge  differently.  Our  common  mythos  is  open  to interpretations.    Tleilaxu    Originary    Evo-Theory.    Bene   Gesserit Mytho-Geneticism. We stand ready for an new approach to the trace of truth. I  have  taken the liberty of presenting a series of Spice Dream discovered temprints  from  the dawn of the Integration, and the dawn of our very Fish Speaker  Schools.  Know  that the seeds of the Integration were sown out of the  conflicts beginning with the merging of two great but warring schools, the Bene Gesserit and their rivals the Honored Matres.”

Duinain  explained  the details of the process of the Spice Dream. The individual   conduit   ingested   Synthspice   to   broaden   the  band  of consciousness.  Although  most Individuals possessed Multiple Memories, and could  share  Personas passed on within a School's line, the technique of a consensual  vision  had  only  recently been discovered. The process of the Spice  Dream  allowed a number of people to experience an actual historical moment  by  a dilation of the fabric of consciousness. Duinain glossed over the space-time figures, simplifying the idea as a cross between the ability to   foldspace   and  the  techniques  of  Duncan’s  Net.  This  consensual hallucination  allowed  history to be re-experienced, as easily as reading a history book had been ten millennia ago.
Duinain paused as he was joined at the podium by a young conduit named Jal from the Noree-Ampre School. The Noree-Ampre school maintained a strong backbreeding  with  the  original  Ixian genepool, that had been in fashion these  days,  which  also  suited  the  schools  members  to  the technical expertise  of  large-scale  Spice  Dreaming. Anyone could learn to fold the consciousness of a few proximate people, but there were a lot of threads to track  and  a  level  of  discretion  to  drop  insignificant threads, that required  a  Spice Dreamer with the Ixian background to manage such a large event. As Jal prepared for the trance, Duinain prepared the assembled crowd to receive the dream.
Within  moments  the place and the moment began to fade from Duinain’s thoughts,  and  like  the  mundane dreams it was named for, the Spice Dream began  to  work  upon  his  consciousness,  and  the  consciousness  of the assembly.
We  can  never experience the Spice Dream of another, yet we know they all coincide within the intents of the Spice Dreamer.
As  Jal continued the process, folding consciousness, turning back the moments  both  from physical and psychical evidences, the million assembled Individual  began to share the historical hallucination, each thought woven to  the  fabric  of  the desired target. Duinain’s last thoughts before the dream were on Jal, who was an alphaline bred direct from Hwi Noree herself, her silhouette cutting the light from the Sun-Sweep Window.
She is beautiful as was the consort of God.
And then they were transported.

The  ghola  Paul  Atreides  was  alone in the courtyard when Miles Teg entered.  The  boy  looked  around, quite aware that his progress was being watched from above by perhaps Sheeana or one of the other sisters. Paul was right  of  course,  Sheeana  and  Duncan  Idaho  were awaiting the practice session  in order to monitor his progress. Duncan was outraged, and he said so to Sheeana.
“What is the purpose of all this Sheeana?”
“Don’t go there Duncan, we both know things are at work around us that are larger than your discomfort at training Paul.”
She  always  calls him Paul, never the ghola. When I was young, mother Schwangyu  had  always  referred  to  me  as the ghola, never as Duncan. But Sheeana is no longer Bene Gesserit.
He  watched  the  pair in combat training below, and Sheeana turned up the listening device to eavesdrop. Paul was angry.
“Where  is  Duncan?  Isn’t  he  going  to be teaching me to use plasma weapons?”
     _Where  is  Duncan?_ I remember when the original Paul used to request
my  company,  while  I watched on with his father, Duke Leto. So many lives
and I_ve returned to this.
     As Sheeana spoke to Duncan, and watched Paul and Miles training below,
she  realized the concept of ghola never seemed natural to a Bene Gesserit,
even  though they had manipulated genetic lines for so many millennia; they
always  allowed  a  natural  birth  from  two parents. The idea of genetics
engineering   shared  the  disapproval  that  computers  gained  after  the
Bulterian  Jihad,  the  technology around the field forbidden by its edicts
included  computerized  biotechnology.  Only the Bene Tleilax practiced it,
and  they always denied they did, while the Bene Gesserit used conventional
breeding.  But  it  was  now the second generation of Bene Gesserit sisters
that  were  comfortable  with  the  use of Tleilaxu axlotl tanks for custom
growing  gholas.  Not  only  had  they produced their own successful Duncan
Idaho, but they had also surpassed all when the produced a young Miles Teg.
The  next  project  seemed  inevitable, overseen by Sheeana and her band of
renegade  sisters.  The  creation  of  a  ghola  unlike  any  ghola project
preceding  it, they would bring back to life the strangest attractor of the
ancient world, they would create a ghola of Paul Atreides.
     Paul  cried  out  as Miles landed a blow. _Alright, lad, that_s enough
hand-to-hand  for today, let_s move on to those plasma weapons you spoke of
earlier._  Miles  glanced up at the observation window, and both Duncan and
Sheeana knew what his face told.
     Paul_s reactions are too slow to survive. He is a relic of a past age.
Duncan gazed out at Paul, and sensed the strange feeling that everything he
did was being watched by some unknown observer.

     The  Spice  Dream receded. The assembly_s mummers grew as they awaited
Duinain’s  response. As the din of conversation rose in the Great Hall, Jal
gave a knowing look to Duinain as she left the sceneum.
     Her   eyes   tell   me  that  she  thinks  they're  pleased  with  the
demonstration.  But  will  they  believe  the  truth's  behind  what  their
consciousness has just experienced, for all of our sakes.
     _What  we  have  revealed is a key the proof for once and for all that
their  truly  lived  a  man  named Paul Atreides. The evidence before us is
obvious.  Why  would the memories lie? Many have claimed that the very idea
of  a  Kwitash  Hederach was a myth constructed by the Master Face Dancers,
somehow  interwoven  within our very cellular memories. I offer this memory
as  proof  that Paul Atreides did exist. Why create a twice fallen god? The
historical  Law of Least Probability demonstrates that it would been absurd
to  create  such  a wild story where an imaginary man-god is fabricated and
then reconstructed as a ghola who is less than his origin is such a bizarre
tale that it must be true._
     A  voice  from  the crowd sounded "Of course you are familiar with the
idea of Ghola Degradation Theory..."
     As  the voice continued to counter the Spice Dreamer findings, Duinain
half  listened  as  he watched the Sun-Sweep Window and thought of the fact
that  it  was  a  representation  of  all  ancient  calendars  up until its
creation.  When  the  voice  was  finished,  Duinain  resumed his findings,
letting the light paths from that grand window somehow focus and guide him.

     The  lecture continued for some time. After the flood of questions and
personal  greetings,  some  hours later, Duinain found himself alone in the
cloisters  of  his  chambers.  He reclined back into the chair where he had
done  most  of  his  research.  A  historian  of that era that produced the
Integration,  Duinain  infrequently  found himself alone these days, due to
the  increased  interest  in  Integration  origins  due  to  the Millennial
Celebrations.  Even  the  Spice  Dreaming  could  be done alone, but it was
much  more  vivid  to  have  multiple dreamers reconstructing a memory or a
scene  from  the  ancient  past. Jal would be along soon enough, with a few
other of the students of the Idah-Mirabla school. Duinian would get back to
the Tleilaxu memories, that was where his current priorities lay.
     The  Tleilaxu memories are not history, they are the key to all of our
futures.
     Duinian  had  a strong backbreeding to the original children of Duncan
and  Murbella,  and  although  the  practice of Duncan ghola_s continued up
until  two hundred years before, the Idah-Mirabla school kept to the actual
offspring, unlike the solipsistic Hayt-Idaho school, that crossbred in with
subsequent  Duncan  gholas.  Idah-Mirabla  was  more  like  a family than a
school,  a  relic  preserved  from its founders. Duinain himself was one of
three  gholas born on the same day, although rarely interacted with his two
twin  _brothers._  As  an historian, his focus had always been in the past.
Duinain   had   perfected   the   technique   of  multiple  Spice  Dreamers
reconstructing  the  same  historical  moment  in a revolutionary way. Each
Spice  Dreamer became responsible for the thread of a single character in a
past  moment,  and  as the long dead personas interacted through the dream,
each dreamer kept a tight hold on his assigned persona. Some target moments
even had auxiliary Spice Dreamers focusing on interpersona communication or
even  collective subtexts. This way, more internal detail could be obtained
and  the  scenes came across with a greater resolution of internal dialogue
and stray thoughts that were historian_s bread and butter.
     His thoughts wandered back to a Spice Dream he had constructed a dozen
times before, to a time that he felt had an historical poetry about it. The
present  faded,  and  Duinain heard the years recede with a sound he always
likened  to  the  wind  rushing  through  the reeds from his childhood. The
association  pleased  him,  and  over  the years he had nurtured it, so the
hours  spent  in  his  small  boat on that river by his childhood home were
never  lost. Soon there was no room in his consciousness for anything other
than the Spice Dream, and the dilation of time brought him back to the time
soon  after the destruction of the original Rakis. His target was a no-ship
in search of a home_

     Sheeana emerged from the no-ship with a sense of wonder and completion
as  her  feet  touched  the  sand of this new world. A desert. She thought,
although  other  voices  whispered,  _  for  the taking.._ --She turned her
thoughts  to the stream of responsibilities that were to follow. She had no
precedent  to  guide her, only an adherence to Bene Gesserit tradition that
must  hold  where all other traditions had unraveled. She was the tradition
now;  what had been was one thing, but what lay ahead for her and those who
followed her was quite something else.
     The  planet  had five moons; Sheeana liked this fact the moment Duncan
had  reported  it  upon the planet_s discovery by the no-ships sensors. She
had  already  rejected  permanent settling of another world the had stopped
on,   a  cooler  world  in  comparison,  much  more  temperate,  much  like
Chapterhouse.  They  had  nicknamed  this  first  world Stopover, and, this
world further resembled Chapterhouse in that it had no moon.
     We even chose to remove that detail. To much romance in a moon for the
homeworld of a sisterhood that forbade even music.
     Sheeana  needed a world with at least one moon. _We are building a new
mythology,_  she had said to Duncan. Stopover proved its namesake accurate,
and  within  a month they returned to their no-ship _leaving their moonless
haven for the void of foldspace.
     Time  passed.  Scytale  paced  his cell pondering the cells within his
nullentropy  tube.  The  sandworms  rumbled  in  the  converted cargo hold.
Sheeana  worked  with  her fellow renegade sisters in private sessions. The
Duncan  awoke  one  night soon after a nightmare vision, he saw a ghostlike
Dune  returned,  and was overcome with the feeling that this was a gauntlet
that  humanity could not surpass by simple destruction of the world. He saw
Fremen  there,  and  Muad_Dib was there, inviting him, warning him. He told
Sheeana  that  it  was an oracular dream, but it was not the future he saw,
not a prescient vision. He had failed to explain it more.
     _I  don_t  see  the  future,_ Duncan insisted and his emphasis on that
final  world  somehow  was  a  clue  to Sheeana of what he did see, _things
simply appear in the net of my extended awareness. They must not be thought
of as visions of the future._
     Sheeana knew Duncan_s Mentat training often hindered his ability to be
a mystic. Her suggestion to him came out in one word:
     _Zensunni._
     One  of Duncan_s past incarnations had been as a Zensunni philosopher,
a  Tleilaxu  gift/joke  to  the  Tyrant. That persona emerged and the words
began to form in Duncan_s mind.

     _There  is  something of Dune that lives after it_s death. Perhaps our
sandworm cargo carries it, pearls of Leto_s awareness. Perhaps you carry it
yourself,  Sheeana._ He paused, and Sheeana waited on his next words, _What
I  see defies the temporal, a disembodied spirit of a shattered world. This
Dune  Revenant  wanders  as we wander, it seeks a world to haunt as we seek
one to inhabit. Restless as we are restless._ Sheeana noticed he had a look
in his eyes that in his half-trance he chose not to hide.
     He_s gazing into his Net, seeing what has been caught up in it. Duncan
is our fisherman. Yet we fish for a new Dune.
     Two   weeks   after   departing  moonless  Stopover,  they  found  the
five-mooned world. Idaho taxed his abilities to se within his oracular net,
until the world had been discovered, tangled within it_s mesh. He found the
world there as he hand found so many things. He had added lists of weapons,
languages,  and  skills  acquired  out  of  thin  air to the archive on the
no-ships  computer.  A mechanical no-ship detector was the first project he
wanted to begin work on, as soon as time and resources would allow it.
     _Teg can see the no-ships,_ Duncan had warned Sheeana, and he knew the
Basher  would  protect  the whereabouts of this five mooned world and their
no-ship.
     Much  of  the  planet  was already desert. Sheeana circled the no-ship
that first time herself, the air was dry and hot. A dustwind kicked up, and
her  nostrils  registered  the  possibility  of  sandworms  adaptation. The
dustwind  carried  the telltale signs of a sandstorm, not a fierce one, but
on its way nonetheless from a desert sea to the south.
     She  marveled at this desert world. The planet_s sun was of a slightly
hotter  class  than  the  sun  of  Rakis  had been. She turned to a pair of
sisters  that  had  also  emerged from the ship _ Sheeana took a handscreen
itinerary  from  one  of  them  _list  of  the  planets attributes appeared
electronically. _We_ll need stillsuits for sure, and equipment to construct
our  first  shelters.  From  there  we_ll  manufacture  the  rest._ Sheeana
returned  to  the screen. Hotter sun, and the planet was a notch too close,
making for a quicker year.
     That could quicken the sandtrout cycle.
     Longer days and nights were the result of a slower planetary rotation,
16-hour  days/  16-hour  nights at the equinox. The planet_s large size and
mass resulted in a gravity slightly greater than that of Rakis.
     This world will produce strong limbed children, if we can acclimate to
the heat.
     Duncan  emerged from the no-ship with quickness in his step, _Sheeana,
the  temporary  weather  probe  we  left  in orbit has downloaded its first
datafeed.  We should stay inside for noontime temperatures are going to get
up  there.  It_ll  be too hot to leave the no-ship. In fact, we_ll probably
have  to  shutdown  all non-essential systems or we_ll all cook inside. The
ships skin temperature will tax the air temperature regulators as it is._
     Our first hardships so soon. This must be the planet.

     Duinain’s  consciousness  emerged  from  the  Spice  Dream  as Sheeana
respoke those words. He remembered another time, ten years past their first
arrival,  when  Sheeana  thought  those words again. Duinian contracted the
moments,  and  he  was  back  on  the  river,  rushing toward the moment he
desired_

     _This must be the world to make us Fremen again._
     It  was  the  voice of Odrare that spoke to Sheeana from other memory.
Sheeana recalled the day the first arrived on new Dune, the day they landed
ten  years  before.  She  remembered  that  day  with a clarity that only a
Reverend  Mother  could learn to master. She had realized that this was the
planet,  and  recalled  an inner conversation she had had with Odrade about
what to do next:
     _So  many  things  to  do  Dar._  Sheeana  had  stopped herself before
awakening  Odrade_s  inner  persona  on  that  first arrival day. Recently,
however,  the  voice  of Darwe Odrade was a constant companion. These days,
Sheeana  often  allowed the inner voices to respond. Her fate was to change
as  only  one  other_s  had  in  all  of history, and she allowed a certain
freedom for the other voices. The plans had been set in motion that day ten
years  ago _deployment of the sandworms form the cargo hold, assignation of
duties,  construction  of  dwellings  assigned  to those sisters, stillsuit
manufacture assigned these sisters, all modifications overseen by Duncan.
     _We  are to be Fremen again._ Sheeana allowed Dar the response. What a
romantic the former Reverend Mother Superior had hidden from all of us (not
as well as she had hidden sea-child though). These tides from a decade past
still  held  sway over Sheeana _Odrade had even helped her in the naming of
the  five  moons.  How  mythic a position to find oneself in. More than any
artist  could  imagine.  How  will  these  moons  lend  themselves  in  our
challenge?
     Naming   the   moons   had  been  instinctive.  Sheeana  recalled  the
conversation  with  Duncan:  _These  moons  deserve  Fremen names,_ she had
spoken  it  to  him on a rare night when all five moons were visible in the
sky.  They  had been out in the night desert on a long-term test of the new
stillsuits  deep desert adaptations Duncan had made. They had been crossing
an  elevated  ridge  that would also allow them a view of the open bled _to
allow  them  to  mark the progress of the sandworm adaptation. They adopted
the most ancient arrhythmic Fremen step _which triggered for Sheeana a root
of deeper rhythms, her dance of Shai-Hulud.
     With  time the moons acquired names: L-gaib (the outer world), L-Akrab
(the  scorpion),  L-Katib  (the writer), Sihaya(desert springtime), L-Sayal
(the  rain  of  sand).  The  name  of  the  planet had been more difficult.
Arrakis,  as  the ancients called it, itself was named from the Fremen word
araq,  which  means  _sweat._ The name Dune began to stick here, especially
among  the  younger  sisters  upon  awakening  of  other memories. Once the
presence  of  ancient  Arrakis was available to them the name would emerge.
_How  much  hotter  Dune  seems  than ancient Arrakis_ or _Dune revives the
clarity of the Fremen in the Desert._
     Sheeana recalled how Duncan insisted on calling the planet Dune, since
his  vision  of  the  Dune Revenant before their arrival. That night on the
high  ridge  they discussed the reports of the Returning of the Master Face
Dancers  to  the Old Empire. Sheeana told him they were searching out known
desert worlds.
     _So  they want to destroy this Dune as well, do they._ Duncan referred
to  one  report  that  came from Chapterhouse, Murbella had her hands full.
Sheeana  had  asked  _Why do you insist on calling this world Dune._ Duncan
returned  smile  as  he  surveyed  the  night  bled, _As these moons are my
witness,  I  know one simple truth. The revenant from my vision has found a
home haunt: this planet is now Dune._

     The  Spice  Dream  subsided.  Exhuasted  from the days events, and the
emotional twists and turns that acompanied the envocation of such uncharted
and  ancient  memories,  Duinain  recalled something Jal always said to him
when he overworked himself.
     "Do  you  still  remember  how  to have normal dreams? I'll give you a
clue, it has a lot to do with going to sleep."
     The Spice Dreams will have to wait until tomorrow.

     Later that night, after several hours of restless sleep, Duinain awoke
from a nightmare. Wet with the water of fear he recalled the dream.
     The Temple to Saint Alia of the Knife.
     He stood in the Temple plaza at mid-day, but he was not on Ouadra. Was
he  on  Dune? The smell of spice coffee distracted him from the scene, with
the  Melange  smell  he  knew  only  from  his Spice Dreamed memories. This
contradiction  confused him for a lucid moment within the dream, and out of
the corner of his eye he caught the glimpse of a hooded blind man. Then the
sudden crash of broken glass. Distant. From far above. He looked to see the
Sun-Sweep Window shattering outward, as a woman's body leapt through it and
fell  towards  the  ground  a half thousnd meters below. For several slowed
seconds  that  lasted  an  eternity  he  watched  the  woman  fall. He woke
violently  upon  recognizing the woman as St. Alia, as she crashed onto the
steps before him.
     The  millennial  celebration of the Fish Speaker Schools comes at a
time  when  GIOAD  has been true to the maxims of Integral Economics for
over  500  years.  That  GIOAD incorporates the breadth and width of our
universe_s wide variety of xenocultural and exeziant needs was something
that  the  ancients  could  never imagine. Archaic proto-economics, like
capitalism  and  communism,  were  still  present  as far back as CHOAM,
trying  to  check  and  balance  the  power they held. Being grounded in
Integral  Economics,  GIOAD is no longer bound by questions of politics.
Without  such  a  system,  we would expand to a critical mass that would
mean  our mutual destruction. We surrender all power unconditionally, so
our success is the universe_s success: measured in processes, not goals.
     -GIOAD progressive philosophy.

     The meeting of the directors of GIOAD was not scheduled for another
3  demicycles,  so  an  emergency  annex  meeting  had  been established
unanimously  by  remote. The Guild Ixian Omni Asymulant Directorship had
existed  in  name for several centuries, but the edicts upon which Ixian
Guild alliances were coded spanned millennia back to the time of the God
Tyrant, and the precedent of Ixian Guild cooperation and collusion could
be  found  in  the  mythic stories of Muad_Dib. GIOAD directors included
representatives  from  the major Guild enclaves as well as high exposure
Ixian   technocrats,  cybimech  theorists,  and  parliamentary  integral
economists.
     Lai  Ampre, was the technocrat imperator of Ix, and it was her role
to begin the GIOAD proceedings. Bred through the Noree-Ampre School from
the  same breeding process that produced Hwi Noree, Lai and her twin Jal
represented a style of Noree-Ampre breeding that stressed the undoing of
the  ancient  male gender bias in technological creation. Hwi Noree, who
wedded  the  God  Tyrant  himself, began to symbolize the issue that the
male  urge  to  create  was  often externalized and almost never had the
grace  of  biological  creation.  The  Noree-Ampre  School stressed that
female Ixians had an intrinsic understanding of the biological bias, and
technology  created by their School was not bound to the male overcoming
of  the  creative urge. As females had once continued the species, their
machines  need  not  reflect  such a knee-jerk reaction, so the cybimech
theorists   would  pronounce.  Lai  reflected  on  these  roles  as  she
approached  the  small  orbit-to-surface pod that would transport her to
the parliament hall.
     Although  the meetings could be attended remotely via holo-imaging,
a  tradition of physical presence of the directors a long ensured a high
level  of attention and importance that all GIOAD meetings demanded. Lai
passed  into  the  atmosphere of Ix from her residence on the artificial
Ring,  encircling  Ix  in  orbit. The Ixian homeworld echoed much of the
technological  architecture  they  had introduced on Old Gammu, known to
mythology  as  Giedi  Prime.  The  tales of the world of Baron Harkonnen
marked  that world as an achievement of technology gone mad. The surface
of   Ix   was   encapsulated   in   an   exoskin,   an  armor  of  their
techno-civiliztion,  that  the  Ixians  had always been known and feared
for.  Lai  recalled  the  Ixian  credo:  Nothing  exists  that cannot be
improved upon.
     In  the days of the Old Empire they had been kept in check, but the
Ixians  had  undergone  a renaissance during the time of the God Tyrant.
The  fact  that  the myths spoke of their machines as amusements for the
God  Tyrant, as did the gholas of the Tleilaxu, and His leniency towards
them, caused the Ixians to flourish.
     We have truly transformed Technology into Art.

     As Lai descended towards the surface, the city of Richese, named in
honor   of  the  sacrificed  fabrication  world,  destroyed  during  the
bloodshed  of the Returning. Richese was a symbol of the age of Integral
Economics.  The city was no longer spires of glasteel that could only be
compared  to  the  rank  and  file  phalanx  as  was  common  during the
Scattering.   The   Integration   years  had  witnessed  a  redesign  of
fundamental  concepts  in  architecture.  The  decentralization of Ixian
urban   systems   were   cross   planet   arranged  by  an  equation  of
functionality,  aesthetics and metamorphosis that could only be compared
to  non-Euclidean  geometry. This bizarre aesthetic had become common to
the  Ixians  _but it was the same strangeness that kept offworlders away
from  Ix.  Visually  maddening, visitors were unable to reference such a
groundless  contrast  of space and matter. Ixians themselves found other
worlds  equally  unpleasant, with the effects claustrophobia lessened by
implants when the did leave Ix.
     Lai  stepped  across  the  portal  and  onto  the  transport to the
Richesean Beauropalace. She passed several Guildsmen in their spicetanks
as she entered the building.
     We  have  always  been  the perfect companions to the Guildsman. To
bend  space  and  time they exchanged the static view of _human_, in the
same way we have done with implants. We were the first to Integrate with
our environment; we turned our dependence on device into a philosophy of
enhancement.
     The  directors  were  prepared  for  the moment of her arrival. Lai
began  in  the  convoluted style of address that was the practice on Ix;
formal  grammars  governed by a linguistic calculus that was best suited
for technical descriptions.
     Not a spoon for just any mouth.
     She  advanced  to  the  crisis  at hand; _I need not understate the
locus  of  our situational roles. The verification of The Ones With Many
Faces  as  an  epidemic  transformation  of  the  Master Face Dancers is
evident from all reports. What Individual reports need addressing?_
     Eahrch  spoke  first,  his Synthspice body mutated by the El-Edrich
School_s tradition, squirming within his spice-tank, _The Ones With Many
Faces  seek  the  Dune  Revenant, however, they are no closer than we at
discovering  if  the  planet  ever existed. All histories show there was
never  a  second  Dune. Yet that is what they seek._ Almek, a cybernetic
space-folder,  shifted  while Eahrch spoke, but said nothing. Eahrch had
ancient  roots  as  a descendant of the Edrichs, who had known Muad_Dib,
back  in  the  age  when  Guild  navigators  were  rated by the stage of
hyperspacial  specificity.  Almek,  however,  was truly a product of the
Integration,  folding  space by means of internal Ixian machines. He was
of  a  School that_s motto was: Let History be Forgotten. Almek piped in
with  his standard argument line, _The age of spice is over, we now fold
space  with  biomechanics. Our goal should be to continue along the path
that  we  began over a thousand years ago, I speak to the utter reversal
of  the  edicts of the Bultarian Jihad._ Almek spoke of the spacefolding
implants,  which  could  not only think, but were actually able to dream
the  spice trance that allowed the possibilities of spacefolding. Edrich
could  not help himself, _Find Dune Revenant and the True Spice, and the
ancient ways shall return._
     Lai,  detecting  their  interaction and interjected, _We must allow
ourselves  to  put  aside  the  ambitions  of  the enclaves or the Ixian
assemblage  and  act as one in this matter._ Lai motioned to Nro Pathay,
as  she  continued  __for that reason we should proceed according to the
algorithms  of  the  generalists._  Nro  grimaced  at  this request, Lai
purposefully  excluding  his  extremist  algorithms,  which often worked
outside  of  integral  economic  limits.  The  generalist algorithms had
enabled  Ix  and the Guild an alternative to politic in the Integration,
but it did ensure GIOAD_s place in the universe's economy. The extremist
algorithms  that  Nro  Pathay and his line had theorized upon, sought to
use  the  resources  available  to  GIOAD  to  reverse the nature of the
Integration  in  a  politico-military  manner.  Some  saw  them as Ixian
nationalists  that sought a New Empire, in spite of all the calculations
that  proved  lack  of  real  stability  in all empires. Before he could
submit his objection, Lai added, _We wouldn_t want to undo the stability
that  GIOAD  needs  to  continue  the  known  worlds  along  the path of
integration.  Our  intentions  should  continue  as  they  always  have,
especially  in  safeguarding  our  knowledge  of Sheeana_s Path and Dune
Revenant form the Master Face Dancers._
     Yours is the road to failure for all of us.
     Lai  continued,  _The  location of Dune Revenant and the outcome of
that  phase  of  our  history  is unknown to even those of our rank. The
ancient  history tells that Jlai Ampre, my ancestor, aided by the Duncan
and his revelations, folded Dune Revenant outside of our space, by means
of  an  encrypted  phase shift, forever placing the planet and its moons
outside  of our universe. The final fate of Sheeana, Duncan, and Scytale
were never revisited.
     Nro Pathay chose this moment to strike, _Except for the visitations
your  sister  Jal allows the universe to view via her Spice Dreams. Some
talk  about  the truth of the ghola Paul, and the fate of Sheeana, seems
to fall on deaf ears. I wonder how the Master Face Dancers are regarding
all of this._
     Lai  answered  calmly,  _The  Master  Face Dancers are not our only
concern.  The  implications of the Ones With Many Faces seem to outweigh
even their benign pestering._
     Nro rebutted, _Wouldn_t it serve in our best interests to offer the
Master  Face  Dancers  the encyprtion key to the Dune Revenant. Could we
not  ally  ourselves  with  one  enemy  to  ward off another that is far
greater._
     Does he admit to collaboration?  He must be watched constantly!
     Lai calmed herself and added, _Your solution is noted, however, the
consul  is  in  need  of  your functions as generalist. As you know, our
initial inquiry and project confirm an 88 percent probability of Sheeana
sharing  the  God  Tyrant_s  dream  of becoming a sandworm, a 31 percent
probability of her transforming several of her renegade sisters as well.
Our  final  analysis  I  have personally compiled, and it is perhaps the
most   shocking:   A  19  percent  chance  that  Sheeana  herself,  as a
sandworm,  is  still  alive today on Dune Revenant, folded away from our
universe.  The  question should not be, should we inform the Master Face
Dancers  of  her  presence?  Rather,  we should wonder what she has been
planning for them, and for all of us, for the past 2000 years?_
     To  describe the transformation of the Bene Tleilaxu defies the limits
of the knowledge of an individual being. The ancient caste systems produced
its  masters and slaves. However, when the mule slaves perfected their face
dancing over the millennia, they evolved into something quite different and
unexpected. Just as Scytale had transformed over successive iterations from
mule  to  Mastif, so did these Master Face Dancers transcend the role given
to  them by the Old Masters. What was the final outcome: The Ones With Many
Faces.  Many  wish  to  approach  The  Ones  With  Many Faces, as one would
approach  a  stranger  when visiting a new land, and ask them, _How did you
get  to  be  this  way?_  Does  one  ask  the  moth  how  it changed from a
caterpillar?  The  answer is forgotten in the cocoon. And the empty husk is
the only witness to the fact.

     -from the Chani-Tej School.

     Jal,  and a half dozen other spice dreamers, entered Duinain’s chamber
in the historical hall of Ouadra. The planet was once the seat of the first
combined  sisterhoods  of  Bene  Gesserit  and  Honored  Matres  during the
Returning  over  1000  years  before.  Now  it  was  a  Fish Speaker School
planet,  with  various  colleges from across the universe. Idah-Mirabla had
secured  the  actual  Bene Gesserit grand hall as they traced their origins
back to Mirabella, one of a dozen icons of the Integration that would prove
to  make  the  word  _humanity_  no  longer  collectively  inclusive of the
universes myriad beings.
     _What are you doing alone?_
     _Getting  prepared  for  the  Tleilaxu reconstruction,_ Duinain didn_t
face them, he paused, and then asked, _How was the Sociotemprint received._
     _The  consesorium  report  as  of moments ago was that Paul was a myth
constructed  by  the  Master  Face  Dancers  several  hundred  years ago in
conjunction  with  their  transformation plans to become the Ones With Many
Faces._
     _Why will people always fall back on conspiracy theories._
     Duinain was silent for a moment.
     No  one plans mistakes like Paul, or would ever construct a story like
the  Paul  ghola incident. And no one, not even the Masters, plan their own
evolution.
     Duinain spoke his next phrase outloud, _Things just happen._
     Jal  and  her  fellow  Spice  Dreamers had made themselves comfortable
around the room. _Should we get started, some of us have other things to do
besides muddle through the past._
     They  began.  Duinain guided the moment as consciousness folded As the
dream  began  to focus, Scytale came into view. It was several years before
the  target time, and Scytale overlooked the axlotl tanks. Ten years ago he
had   been   a  captive  of  the  No-Ship  with  Duncan  Idaho.  After  the
destruction  of  Bene  Tleilax  by the Honored Matres, Scytale had been the
sole survivor of the elite core of that society.
     How  hivelike we_ve become - - our Way had made it necessary. Tleilaxu
Masters,  Face  Dancers,  the  axlotl tanks - - Now, a hive unlike any hive
returns from the Scattering.
     It was Scytale_s voice.
     Duinain caused time to surge forward with a peristaltic gesture, ahead
to  the  target  time,  after  the  Tleilaxu masters had first emerged from
Scytale_s nullentropy tube_

     Scytale  stood before the reanimated Tleilaxu Masters. They_re motives
had been awakened according to the old methods, bringing back their history
and  memories.  However,  the  purpose  of  this  briefing was to bring the
council up to date since their destruction.
     Destruction  by the Honored Matres will be nothing compared to what we
face now. We face our very extinction by our own creation.
     The  reconvening had a ritual about it; a familiarity brought about by
millennia  of  repetition.  Each  member  of  the council had experienced a
thousand deaths and rebirths, but never had all perished at once.
     If  not  for  the  nullentropy  tube, which held all the vital genetic
data, we would be lost, and I would be the last.
     Still,  the  event seemed mundane and routine, each role snapping into
place as if it had been pre-programmed to unfold at this given moment.
     _Sheeana  is  our first concern,_ Scytale launched into his itinerary,
_She  is in communication with the consciousness of the God Emperor that is
within each sandworm._
     Nuahul  spoke first, _We realize the powindah woman_s gift is from the
God  Emperor  himself,  why  should she be a concern of ours? Since we have
given  her  the  Muad_Dib  cells,  and  she  has given us this moon for Neo
Tleilax  in exchange, our dealings have been standard as they have with all
Bene Gesserit for the past century. What is your concern?_
     Scytale_s  face  twisted  and  he spoke, _I had been their captive and
believe  me,  she  has  something  planned.  We need to watch this powindah
bitch.  We must act from caution._ Xiatl offered a compromise, _I motion to
have a ghola grown from the cells you_ve gathered from her Scytale, then we
can proceed with psycho-biotic testing and axlotl trait titration._
     Scytale  sighed  with  compliance.  It  was  true they could infer her
motives  and  study  her  gholas  reactions, but they would not have enough
time.  Whatever  Sheeana  was  up to, she had to already be in the advanced
stages  of  any  plan  whose course she would be following. Scytale inhaled
before he continued with his agenda.
     _As  you  all  now  know, in your absence, the newest Duncan ghola has
exceeded  all  expectations:  He  Who  Knew  God has acquired the mulitives
similar to ours. He has show resistance to the whistle language we embedded
in him._
     Atlelell,  who originally developed the idea of the multilived council
5000  years  earlier  rose to attention, _I suggest we allocate a number of
mules to begin a multilive breeding matrix for a future program._
     Nuahul  responded  after taking notice of Scytale_s grimace, _It seems
that  Mastif  Scytale  has  lost some of the Bene Tleilaxu faith during his
time  among  the powindah. Do you forget, Mastif Scytale, that the Tleilaxu
faith was built upon patience, foresight, and initiative?_
     _I do not forget, but does Mastif Nuahul not heed the old adage, _Plan
while  the  enemy  wakes,  Act  while  the enemy sleeps.' Would you have us
caught in a research project when our enemies strike?_
     _Take  no  offence  Mastif  Scytale, I merely note that we may act and
plan._
     Scytale  nodded to him and continued with his third issue, _Lastly, we
have another unsuspected result from the Teg ghola. I hope those of you not
involved  with  this  research  have  all  reviewed  the  datasend  on  his
excellerated enhancements brought on by the T-probe._

     Several  of  the  Mastif  whispered  among  themselves  as  they  took
interest,  but  it  was  Xiatl  who  piped  in a response, _We have already
adapted  several  of the excelgro axlotl tanks with a T-probe modification.
So  modified,  we  are  continuing to maximize the throughput of our axlotl
tanks.  The  first  mules  were  born  out of this technology today and the
results  are  as you would expect. These mules are faster and stronger than
ever,   and   we_ve  managed  to  have  a  greater  control  over  pre-bred
specialization  limits  and  maximum lifespan. I_m sending this first batch
down to the surface to continue work on the Holy Seitch._

     Jal emerged first, and waited for the others to return from the dream.
When  they  had all returned, the other Spice Dreamers said their good-byes
and left Duinain’s chamber.
     Duinain followed them on the way out with his eyes and said, _You know
Jal,  eighty  percent  of  all Spice Dreamers are female, it has to do with
Siona-genes._  He  changed the subject, _That Sociotemprint is available to
all the Fish Speaker Schools, and still they doubt it_s importance._
     _How  can  they  argue  otherwise,  Scytale  himself has discussed the
reanimation of Paul._
     _You  know  the  arguments,  ghola  core-memory  degradation, cellular
mnemonic  encoding,  should I continue. We are two years into a real threat
from  the  Ones  With  Many Faces, yet the rival schools continue to create
false enemies. They_re conspiracy delays action with research._
     _What was Scytale_s plan?_
     _I haven_t gotten much of it yet, his mind was traditionally Tleilaxu,
keep  the plan hidden even from the self. The Bene Tleilaxu of that day had
taken  the philosophical question of language to ultimate level literalism.
They translated language as code, that is, as that which stands between the
way things are, the way they seems, and the hidden ways._
     _The  unknowable  ways,_  Jal added. _To us it seems so simple, but at
the  time,  it  was  revolutionary.  I  just don_t think they were any more
revolutionary than the Bene Gesserit or the Tyrant himself._
     Duinian  stood up from his seat and walked to a window overlooking the
Ouadra  afternoon,  _the  Tleilaxu  sense  of  praxis  is revealed in their
constant need to be literal, though ground their theories into practice._
     _They were the ultimate materialists._
     _Exactly  why  they  were  the  specialists  of the body: they had the
ability  to create shape shifting Face Dancers and to reanimate the dead as
gholas  from  axlotl  tanks.  The  ultimate code is the one grounded in the
being  of  biological bodies: the genetic code. The long held Bene Tleilaxu
secret  is  their equating the being of language with DNA, the genetic code
that they call God_s Language._
     Jal  interrupted,  _This was Scytale_s intention? We are all born from
axlotl  tanks,  Duinain, how can this be a clue to his intentions? How does
any of this lead us closer to the Ones With Many Faces?_
     Duinain turned from the window to face Jal. _What do we know about the
ancient  Tleilaxu  origins?  They  had  bred  themselves  along a path that
translates  their  own  individual  genetic  code  along the lines of their
Zensunni  beliefs  that  thread  back  through  decimillenia. They had even
perfected the encoding of gaps in their genetic sequence that traditionally
would  have  no  gaps.  These  gaps decentralized the idea of identical DNA
throughout  an  organism.  Don_t  you  see,  this was a Zensunni trick, the
entire  being only has a complete genetic code, are no single DNA strand is
complete.  The  one is both empty and full. The gaps constitute concealment
on  the  part  of  the Bene Tleilaxu ultimate motives, as the Bene Gesserit
themselves were never able to decipher the Tleilaxu intentions and motives,
let alone overcome the idea of breeding._
     _So  are  you  saying  the  Ones  With  Many Faces were outside of the
control of the original Tleilaxu masters._
     _By  all  means.  I think they were even out of the control the Master
Faces  Dancers.  From  my  research  with  Duncan memories, he first was in
contact with two Master Faces Dancers, Marty and Daniel. Follow the threads
from  there  and  you_ll  find  that the Ones With Many Faces even took the
Master  Face  Dancers by surprise. I just hope we_re able to decipher their
secret before its too late._
     Jal  added  a  solemn note, _Reports from a Teg-Chiani school outworld
claims  we_re  losing  as  many  a three worlds a day on the rim. With each
world  they  take,  the Ones With Many Faces have a new biomatter basis for
further expansion._
     _Geometric  expansion,_  Duinain  did  the  math,  as more worlds were
consumed  by  the  Ones With Many Faces, their expansion increased in speed
and  in  more directions. A thousand years earlier, the Honored Matres fled
the  Master  Face  Dancers,  for  the  Old  Empire. Their Returning and our
Integration  was  based on reaction from the Master Face Dancers driving us
through  evolution.  Who  knew  that the Master Faces Dancers were facing a
similar revolution from within their own alien civilization. The resistance
to  any  reconstructed  memories  about the Master Face Dancers or the Paul
ghola  that came for the other Fish Speaker Schools lay in the fact that no
Master  Face  Dancer  had  ever  been  encountered in a thousand years. The
theories   of   cellular-memory   tempering   emerged  as  a  psychological
explanation  to  this  centuries old mystery: Why did they have memories of
these  Masters if on was never encountered? Duinain knew they existed. More
than  that, he knew he needed to get into contact with a Master Face Dancer
to  learn  what  they  knew. This would be more impossible than finding the
Dune  Revenant  world itself, a world that he knew existed. In spite of all
the  reconstructed  memories  of  Dune  Revenant, the world was never found
anywhere   in   the  know  universe,  explained  away  by  the  Schools  as
ghola-degradation  psychosis.  Duinain  swore by Duncan_s Net that he would
prove these theories wrong.
     His  voice  alone  caused  me rest, and all the evils he had done only
empowered  him  in  my  mind. They called the Old Baron Harkonnen evil, but
what  of the tradition of calling the pre-born Abomination. Did anyone say,
_Alia, what have you to tell us from your unique knowledge._? They did not.
They feared me, and they condemned me. I was the first to wrestle with this
angel, the one who sought to live with all the Other Memories. When I could
no  longer control them, I needed a voice that could. And when humanity can
no  longer  bear the burdens of its history, will they not need a tyrant to
keep  the  past  at  bay. Know that when the crisis of humanity comes, they
will  have been elated that their Tyrant came to save them. And that we all
are  Abomination will only goad us into finding a new language that permits
understanding.

     -From the play The Vindication of Saint Alia.

     Jal  sent  off  a  sociotemprint  of  their recent Spice Dreams to her
sister  Lai  on Ix. At the same time, an incoming transmission was received
from Lai, presumably sent sometime earlier.
     We need to keep in close contact. Who knows when our commutation lines
will be broken?
     The  transmission  was in three parts, Lai always sent a brief note on
recent  events,  and  along  with that was a text called The Vindication of
Saint  Alia, and a note regarding this play. Jal played the note, which was
a  holo-image.  Lai  appeared  with  the usual crackle of image into nearby
empty space and spoke:

     _Hello  my  dream  twin. I always knew you would dream your life away,
while  I_ve  taken  the  road  of  responsibility. Avoiding the Edrichs and
Pathay  keeps  me in the archives these days, and I came across a reference
to  this  in  some  archaic  crystal  memory  storage. It_s a WRITTEN PLAY;
something  I  know  you_d  appreciate. It_s the same as the holo-drama_s of
this  classic,  but  I guess I never realized that Murbella wrote the thing
down  by  HAND. Anyway take a stab at it. How_s Duinain doing? Has he found
any other GOOD Spice Dreamers so you can come home? Lai._

     The  message  ended,  and Jal clicked open the icon for the text play.
She  had  seen  it  dozens of times before (it was always performed here on
Ouadra  during  Idha-Mirabla  social  events),  however  she had also never
thought of it as a text. She scrolled through to one of her favorite parts,
and  was  surprised  that  she  still  could enjoy read something so better
experienced visually_

                     The Vindication of Saint Alia: Act II, Scene
                                     iii.

                         (CHAPTERHOUSE: Alone
                         in the Dark,
                         MURBELLA
                         contemplates the
                         forming of the FISH
                         SPEAKER SCHOOLS to
                         disband both the
                         BENE GESSERIT and
                         HONORED MATRES.  She
                         has overdosed
                         herself with the
                         Spice Melange in
                         hopes of receiving
                         some vision to enact
                         her plan)

                                 MURBELLA
                         (INTOXICATED)  How
                         many billions do I
                         hold within the
                         confines of one
                         body?  To one who
                         hasn_t undergone the
                         Agony, you would
                         think of one such as
                         I as a concentrated
                         being, more souls
                         than one body was
                         meant to have.
                         Would an outsider be
                         surprised how spread
                         thin this burden
                         makes me.  How
                         diluted each thought
                         seems when another
                         could speak it a bit
                         differently from
                         Other Memory?  How
                         eagerly some soul
                         might leap at the
                         chance to contradict
                         me.  And yet I seek
                         to gather them all
                         together, to thin
                         out to a point that
                         I might have them
                         all at once_conduct
                         them outward like a
                         lens through which I
                         might espy the path
                         that I must take.
                         So far back we
                         stretch, mothers,
                         children, mothers
                         again.  Mother,
                         matre, madra, mama,
                         mah. Here I see her,
                         one not so like us,
                         but so like all of
                         us.  I see her
                         here.  She is
                         standing by the
                         river, listening to
                         the water flowing by
                         in some ancient
                         river.  Stopping
                         each sound the river
                         makes.  So many
                         sounds and she hears
                         them all.  And she
                         waits for the
                         insects to pass, and
                         the winds to
                         silence, and behind
                         the sounds of the
                         water she hears them
                         speaking to her.
                         The fish.  She
                         listens for the fish
                         until their voices
                         come to her through
                         the rushing.  And
                         the fish speaks to
                         her:

                              _Why do you
                         listen past the
                         river to hear me
                         speak?_

                              Because I wish
                         to hear what your
                         voice would tell me.

                              _What of all
                         the other sounds,
                         are they not also
                         for you to hear.
                         Does not the river
                         speak her lesson.
                         Does not the tree
                         speak with its
                         voice, stirred to
                         speak by the wind.
                         Or the creatures of
                         the land and air?
                         Why do you stop to
                         hear us speak?_

                              Because one day
                         we must face
                         something, that you
                         know so well.  To
                         learn from you how
                         you continued, so
                         that we may
                         continue.

                              _We do not stop
                         the river.  We are
                         part of it.  You
                         will know what your
                         river is when you
                         cannot stop it.
                         When you are part of
                         it.  Is this all
                         that you wished to
                         hear?_

                              That you say
                         this gives me hope.
                         That we know where
                         to find your voice
                         will give those of
                         us to come hope.  So
                         many will come to
                         hear you. So many.

                              So many. Can we
                         turn back to them,
                         to those first Fish
                         Speakers?  We cannot
                         stop it.

                              I cannot.

                         (Sounds of someone
                         entering outside the
                         door which Murbella
                         stares at, half
                         expecting a flood of
                         water to rush in.
                         When the doors open,
                         light floods in, and
                         Murbella collapses.
                         Enter DUNCAN IDAHO.)

                                  DUNCAN
                          Murbella!  (calling
                         to someone outside
                         the room) Quickly
                         someone, Mother
                         Superior has
                         collapsed!

                                 MURBELLA
                          (weakly) I cannot
                         stop its course, my
                         Duncan.  The fish
                         had warned her so
                         long ago.  They
                         warned us from the
                         start, but we never
                         listened.
                                  DUNCAN
                          No need to stop it,
                         dearest. Just relax
                         and let it go.
                         (attendants enter
                         and lift her in a
                         lying position.)

                                 SISTER 1
                          She reeks of
                         Spice.  What was she
                         doing?

                                  DUNCAN
                          What does any Fish
                         Speaker do?

                         (attendants take her
                         from the room to
                         care for her. Duncan
                         turns and follows
                         them out.)
                                   EXIT.
                                   *  *  *  *

     Jal  clicked  shut  the  text  and  thought  about  the  story  of The
Vindication of Alia. Murbella wrote it herself after she began to merge the
two  schools  of  the Bene Gesserit and the Honored Matres. The play was to
describe  the  way  Murbella  utilized the Other Memory of Alia in order to
help  her  to  make  the  decision.  As  the  mythology told, Alia had been
possessed  by  her  Other Memory of her grandfather, the Baron Harkonnen, a
possession that resulted in Alia_s suicide.
     Murbella  had an ever-present question on her mind: _In what direction
shall  I lead my Sisters?_ This new sisterhood had the potential of all the
greatness  of both the Bene Gesserit and the Honored Matres, but the leader
was  being  crushed  by  the  options  open to her. Murbella was constantly
ingesting  near-fatal  levels  of Spice, to explore all the permutations of
choices.  She  consulted  great  leaders  of  the past, each with their own
achievements  and  flaws. Odrade. Mohiam. Only until she walked through the
memories of Alia did she find her way.
     Although  Alia  never had children, Tleilaxu agents had stolen some of
her cells, and when they fled in the Scattering, often tried to breed these
traits  into  members  of  the  Honored  Matres  as  a bargaining tool. So,
Murbella  came  into  the  memories through this crossbreeding process. The
story  goes  on  the describe the way Alia possessed Murbella, how Murbella
allied  herself  with the inner Alia, and finally, how the two overcame the
Baron  Harkonnen possessing both of them now. Murbella_s trial would become
a  core  study  of  her  new  established  Fish  Speaker  School, and would
eventually  lend  itself to the practices of Persona Shifting and Multilive
Individuals as they were today.

     Was  this  a lesson too well learned? Why send the Vindication of Alia
to  me? Does Lai know of some connection between this story and the rise of
the Ones With Many Faces?
     Murbella_s  experience  was not only inspiration for dramatic writing.
The  Neo-Tleilaxu consul under Scytale_s command sought to bargain with the
Master Face Dancers in an attempt to thwart off Sheeana.
     Had Scytale taken cells of Murbella, with the cellular memories of the
ability  to  abolish  abonminationism, and traded them with the Master Face
Dancers all those centuries ago? Does Lai suspect this as the origin of the
Ones With Many Faces?
     Jal replayed Lai message, knowing the best encoding was metaphor...

     "Anyway, take a stab at it." Saint Alia of the Knife. Not just a loose
joke...

     Jal  scrolled forward through the readout of the play. Murbella became
obsessed  with  Alia,  but the clue wasn't rooting in her mind. Jal slipped
halfway into a Spice Dream while she watched the readout for clues. All the
while,  a  slight  hint  of Murbella other memories guided her as a sort of
intuition about what to keep and what to let go.

     The  more  she  revisited  Alia, the more she forgot her own problems.
Murbella began to notice the way in which Harkonnen had possessed Alia--but
somehow--could  not  notice that Alia was overtaking her. Alia became sweet
and ruthless to Murbella, so entraced by her mystique and pressence. Alia's
innocence  came  from  her  unique  status as abomination. She was new to a
world  only she knew--and Murbella would stand transfixed by her in wonder.
Would  it  have  been  so hard for someone to have reached out and accepted
Alia?  What  was  she  envisioning that gets glossed over by her so defined
condition?  She  was  the  Saint  of the Knife--and her she is seen cutting
through  the  limits  of  what  is human. (the first person to not be human
saves  and  kills  her).  What  is  left  without  her  is a worship of our
relationship  with  the ego. She only asked more of us than we were able to
know...

     Jal emerged from the Spice Dream.  She glanced back at Lai's note.

     "How's Duinain doing?"

     Duinain  needed to learn about this fact. She could not risk the Spice
Dream alone; too many details could be lost.
     If  Lai  is  right,  our  future  may  be  much  shorter than even the
pessimism  of  Duinain  predicts.  With  an overcoming like this as part of
their  initial  genetic  make-up,  who knows what boundaries that Ones With
Many Faces are breaking through with each passing day?

     In  any  ecosystem  _there  exists  a  stratum of lifeforms whose sole
existence is to provide the base for higher life forms. Were it revealed to
humanity  that  we are as culturally meaningless as bacteria in the eyes of
higher  lifeforms  would  cause a mass existential anxiety and hysteria, as
history has never seen. If it had been otherwise, if the Golden Path of the
Tyrant  God  had  been set in perpetual motion without the need for further
intervention,  there  would  have  been  no  need  for  Sheeana_s  race  of
sandworms, nor for Master Face Dancers. We shudder at the thought, but even
they  are  only  steps to a new level of being. Were we to look deep enough
we  would  find  all  progress as mere building blocks to whatever else may
come to pass.
     --Ancient NeoTleilaxu Coda.

     Duncan  could  see them staring back from the future. First the Master
Face Dancers Marty and Daniel, now these Spice Dreamers, Jal and Duinain.
     I  can't  tell  where they are gazing from; they are so different from
us. Fish Speaker Schools! They look back to this very crucial time.
     He  realized the young ghola Paul was standing before him, distracting
Duncan_s inner gaze away from his Net.
     When did I first meet you Paul?
     When  Duncan  first  saw  Paul  was  an experience hard to explain and
harder  to  share.  Before him stood the Paul ghola, as he knew him when he
trained  him  as  the  head  swordsmaster  of Leto Atreides. These were the
original  memories  first  experienced by a man named Idaho. These memories
had been the basis of all the Duncan gholas over the centuries.
     Duncan decided to turn this into a different kind of lesson.
     (Try reconstructing this detail, future voyeur!)
     _You know about Other Memories, don_t you Paul?_
     _Sure,  what  Sheeana has taught me. When the other me was Awakened by
the  spice,  it  allowed  me  access  to multiple-ancestral memories,_ Paul
hesitated,  as  if  he  were  to keep silent; and then blurted out, _Will I
undergo the Spice Agony?_
     _Not  to  worry  about  that  now  Paul,  not  to worry about becoming
Muad_Dib._
     _Was  the moon of the destroyed Dune beautiful? Sometimes I want those
memories back just to know why I chose the shadow mouse._
     Does he see the shadow mouse? Now! Zensunni.
     _The  feeling  of  deja-vu  to  one with multiple-life memories at his
disposal  seems  unimportant.  Yet  here  we  stand  Paul, swordsmaster and
student, Duncan and Paul, as we had stood years before._
     Gods, it was 7000 years before.
     Duncan  thought  of  the  oddness  that  this  deja-vu presented: to a
feeling that transversed permutations of being unimaginable, to arrive here
to him at this given time. He looked at Paul.
     There is truth in this feeling.
     The  boy  Paul  looked  on, and responded to Duncan_s silence with the
simple  smile  a  student gives the teacher he respects, but does not quite
understand.

     Sometime  later  Duncan  found  himself  alone,  Paul  sent off to his
studies with one of Sheeana's sisters.
     What did you do to us Leto, you old Worm?
     Duncan  remembered  the  Tyrant  in  a  way  that  no other could even
imagine.
        Gods, did I know him!
     How  many  times  had he arrived for the first time before Leto in the
dark?  How  many  times  had Leto tested him? How many times had he died at
Leto hands?
        He would call me one of his Duncans!  One of a series of me.
        Now the Tyrant seemed to be such a one among many.
        One worm, but I knew him from the point of view of many lives.
     Duncan  recalled  Leto mentioning something of the worms to come after
his  death. _More Ganglia. And aware!_ He would say in his basso voice. The
transformation  to  worm  had  strange  effects  on  Leto_s  larynx. Duncan
imagined  its low tones could be heard reverberating under the sand if Leto
chose to.
     Sheeana  is  in  touch  with this intelligence. From the first day she
summoned the worms.
        Sheeana had been spending more time in the desert these days.
     _In  preparation._  She  would  say.  In  preparation for what? Duncan
recalled  a discussion he had with Sheeana about the Tyrant. Why she choose
to explain the obvious to him suddenly:
     _By  merging with the worm_Leto extended their awareness of us. We are
benefiting  from  the  melange both directly and indirectly, its so easy to
see Duncan._
     _But given this_what is the relationship between human and worm._
     _Ah  the  Mentat  comes  to  the fore ground for his question; but the
computation is too quick. Try the dance next time Duncan._
     Melange  never  extended  consciousness  for  the  long term_it merely
brought  us  closer to the kind of being the sandworms always had. Now that
Leto has brought the possibility of a closer joining of Sandworm and Human,
Sheeana  hopes  to  seal  his  plan  with  one  last  calculated procedure.
Symbiosis.
     Teg entered the room, interrupting Duncan_s train of thought.
     _Duncan  Idaho, always the pawn, even of his own thoughts._ Teg smiled
as he handed Duncan a vidbook.
     _What_s this._
     _Report  from  Sheeana.  Syctale_s up to something in the outskirts of
the  deep  bled._  Duncan  looked  over  the  ecological  report  from  the
equatorial bled as well as the southern dune sea. Sheeana reported that the
sandtrout  were  abundant  and many of the smaller worms seem to be growing
quite large.
     Duncan looked up at Teg, _Miles, you know this place is unique. In all
the worlds we_ve visited, none have been able to sustain the sandworms._
     _Might  not be unique for long, if I can_t find a way to stabilize the
Ixian  phasing  modules in orbit. _ The entire system had been successfully
held  out  of  phase  with  the  universe of the Old Empire in a stabilized
spacefold.  Teg  and  Duncan  had  developed  the  design from the noship_s
systems, which constantly dream the mathematics necessary to keep the world
safe for the Master Face Dancers.
     _Hiding a small star system within a constantly fluctuating hyperspace
field  keeps  us hidden, but it has a way of wearing out the equipment that
makes it possible._
     _That_s  your excuse for not keeping an eye on Scytale._ Duncan handed
back the vidbook to Teg
     _Sheeana  has  only  now  alerted  us.  However,  she has not directly
intervened with Scytale_s plans. I suggest we pay Scytale a personal visit,
and leave the Tleilaxu presence in the deep desert to Sheeana_s worms._
     Sheeana_s worms. How close you are to the truth Miles.

     To  Know  the state of the multiverse before and after the Tyrant God,
imagine  the image of an hourglass. His role represents the ancient idea of
a  key-log, being both the log-jam in the river and the tidal release after
wards. History gave way to his vision, become like an inverted pyramid that
leads  to  the  Tyrant God, just as the past becomes that which he releases
upward into the pile of sand. The being of the world held fast to his exact
brand  of  the  future  that  we now live in. And the hidden agenda is more
apparent  then  most  would suspect: his future is authored by us, in a way
that  finds  us  producing  our  past ourselves. The Tyrant God becomes the
geometric  null  point  at  the intersection of two opposing pyramids, that
works  its  way  through  the  future  at once grounded in the base that is
humanity, and open to our greatest potential.

     -Lecture_s of Sheeana to the ghola Muad_Dib.

     The  southern  bled  was  home  of  sandstorms unimagined by lost Dune
standards. Here on this Dune Revenant, the southern bled lay at the edge of
the  wide  southern  dune  sea, where the open terrain allowed the winds to
build  speed  until  they  devastated  the  western  borders  with constant
sandstorms.  Sheeana  and  two  dozen sisters had made this area a constant
home  along an agenda that she had laid out for them. The southern bled was
home  of the most active sandworms and the sources of many spice blows. And
the  Dune  Sea  was  where  the  Tleilaxu  had been quite busy for at least
several weeks.
     Sheeana contemplated her Atreidies origins more than she ever had done
as a Bene Gesserit. Here in the deep desert, monitoring the progress of the
sandworms,  kept  her  constantly  aware  of  destiny,  both  personal  and
historical.  The  sisters  who followed her here knew she had a vision, and
the  constant  spice  ingested  by  all allowed the lines to blur somewhat,
blending  her  wishes  with  their  wishes.  She guided them in this insane
frontier as a sculptor would mold wet clay.
     The  talent  had always been there in humans. We merely needed to meet
up with the Spice to release what had been locked away.
     Muad_Dib  had changed all that. Muad_Dib sired the Tyrant God himself,
an unexpected crashing down of the Bene Gesserit breeding program. This was
reason enough to break with the Bene Gesserit ways.
     Murbella  will  do fine picking up the pieces. She is her own brand of
artiste, the wild strain demands that she be.
     In  the  desert,  dreams  came  to  Sheeana.  They would overpower the
moment,  and  she  knew  not if they were imagined or real. She saw herself
with  Murbella, across the bounds of the pocket of the multiverse that held
Dune  Revenant. Sheeana could not tell if she was seeing the dream or if it
was  being  created  by her. And with that thought, she was beside Murbella
and in contact with her dilema.
     For  Murbella  it  was a time of contemplation in the midst of crisis.
The  Ones with Many Faces were infringing more and more open the last human
sectors  of  the  Old  Empire.  How many sisters had been lost during their
relentless  assaults?  The fact that they would resort to any means, planet
burners  or  biogenic weapons, to expand their own influence was beyond any
strategy.
     They  are  like  insects.  But these insects have an agenda! More than
just  the hive, what is their reason? What is their goal, to fill habitable
space with their own form of metamorphic biology?
     Murbella  walked  through  Chapterhouse,  that was looking more like a
battleground  than  the  home  of  the  sisterhood. Her personal attendant,
Laeona,  showed  the  harsh genetic features of her Honored Matre heritage.
Just below these young features was there common Bene Gesserit features.
     This one especially has a resemblance to Hwi Noree.
     This  was  strange,  since  Hwi never begot children. However, genetic
archeaologists  had  scourged  the sands of the original Dune to find a few
usable cells of the Tyrants bride for their own breeding program.
     Hwi  Noree  was an Ixian, from the time that Ix and the post-Leto Fish
Speakers were united.
     Murbella  thought of how there was no sect of Fish Speakers today. She
thought  about  her  vision,  the  one  in  which  she was on Terra and she
listened  to  the  message of the fish. Just as a now ancient and forgotten
cult  once  called  this  planet  Earth,  the cradle of humanity, so had an
ancient  people  of  Earth,  called  the  once  fertile  land  between  two
equatorial  rivers  the  Tigris  and  Euprhates, the fertle cressant. These
places  may disappear from the universe, but hey lie within us, and, having
molded us, continue to presence themselves into the future.
     The  look  on  Laeon_s face revealled the expression that Murbella was
projecting. This is the secert! I know which way to take my sisters!
     Leaona asked, _Mother Superior, is something wrong?_
     Murbella responded, _Quite the opposite Sister, everything is suddenly
right!_

     The moment faded, and Sheeana found herself back in the desert, on the
outskirts of the Tleilaxu revelation. Her sisters moved about in the day to
day  ritual  that  was  custom here in the deep bled, during a sandstorm of
this  intensity.  Thoughts  of  Leto filled her consciousness. Leto himself
realized that the wild talent was not enough_that is why he bred Siona.
     Now we are all children of Siona.
     She  contemplated the breeding programs. Did such things really exist?
Could  such  a  naive  notion ever exist today? A human could be reanimated
from  5000  year old cells. A human could merge with a sandworm. A breed of
Master  Face Dancers can shift flesh and release consciousness? Leto needed
the  breeding  program  as  a  fix, while Muad_Dib_s rejection of that path
insured a different option, only recently realized by Sheeana.
     And now that I have resurrected Muad_Dib I hold a unique position.
     This  current venture into the desert had served many purposes. A team
of  sisters  had  been dispatched to reclaim the spice filters set into the
sands,  while  Sheeana  had  lead  this  second  group to discover what the
Tleilaxu  had  been  up  to.  Sheeana  had given Scytale and the Tleilaxu a
modicum  of  freedom  on  their  moon Novo Tleilax in exchange for the Paul
ghola.  Only  once  in  all  the years that had passed on this new Dune did
Sheeana  ever  have  to intervene in the actions of the Tleilaxu counsel. A
small task force led by Teg to Novo Tleilax clean up the problem.
     No gholas of Leto! No use of Gannima or Jessica cells in axlotl tanks!
     Sheeana  had the last Leto cells destroyed, and brought Scytale to the
edge  of death to provide him an idea of the importance of his judgement in
axlotl tank constructs. Now Scytale was up to some construction in the deep
desert,  which  had  been inaccessible for some time due to the storms. The
Tleilaxu  had  chosen  a  calm  area within the fiercest sandstorms to ship
untold  numbers  of Face Dancer Mules and replicators down to Dune Revenant
for  a  purpose  yet undiscovered. Sheeana dispatched a message to Teg with
the  sister  Isha on their findings and a change cam over her as she looked
out into the rough sandwinds.
     Shaitain knows my thoughts. And I am one with Shai_Hulud..
     Different  possibilities now seemed to meet and split in a way she was
acclimating herself to. She was leading humanity down a different path than
the  Golden  Path.  Now  that  the  idea  of  a  path for humanity had been
established by Leto, Sheeana realized his was but one of many paths.
     To become a Sandworm!
     Sheeana began to realize the intentions of the Tyrant God. He had both
indicted  the  Bene  Gesserit  for not starting the Golden Path that he had
initiated  through  self-sacrifice,  even thought the Sisterhood surely saw
the  need  for such a Way for humanity to walk along. Furthermore, Leto had
foreseen  the  downfall  of  the Sisterhood. Murbella_s new Sisterhood will
become  a  bureaucracy  at  worst.  The best she can strive for is a school
unlike  any  before  it,  with  all the strengths of family and none of the
weaknesses.
     I understand Leto's dream. We each are making it possible even now.
     Sheeana  could follow much of Leto's line of reasoning in becoming one
with  the  sandworm.  She began to envision the time when he first made the
transformation.  The  sandtrout,  the  little  makers,  naturally  moved to
encapsulate  water,  and  Leto used this natural tendancy to his advantage.
They  slowly  covered  his  body, and over time, his body adapted. With the
passing of the centuries (What attention to such a slow process!) his dream
was  continually honed to a sort of preternatural perfection. Sheeana would
weep  when  she  thougt  of  what  Leto  gave  up (What pain he endured) in
establishing  the  Golden Path. Such dreams were already coming to Sheeana.
She had a glimpse of Arafel, the darkness cloud at the end of the universe,
and  was  sure  in  certain ways that although it could indicate the Golden
Path was in danger, their were many New Paths yet undreamed.
     She  slipped  into the dreams not only while asleep but while walking,
only  to awaken some miles from where she had begun. Other times, the dream
would  come to her mid-sentence, living some elaborate plot, only to awaken
at  the exact point she had left off, never skipping a beat. One dream, the
most  piercing  and  prophetic,  showed her that the future was causing the
past  while  at  the  same  time  the  past was causing the future. She saw
herself  and  her  sisters  as  sandworms in the future providing for their
struggle  that  defined  them now in the past, all their separate New Paths
converging  back  to  the Golden Path. She felt she was giving the Tyrant a
chance to express his love for Hwi Noree, and that they all gave young Leto
something  to  strive for, a way out of the shadow of Muad_Dib. And she saw
Duncan there. And she saw those from the future watching Duncan. Before the
dream  ended,  she saw herself far in the future dreaming the idea of spice
for  the  first time, creating it so that humanity could tread the paths of
destiny.
     Who  was the first to know Melange? I must wait so long to answer this
question.
     When the dream passed, the sister Amba was speaking to her.
     _Mother  Superior,  the sandstorm will break just beyond that ridge to
the West._
     _The  Tleilaxu  encampment will be there,_ Sheeana had learned to step
form the dream as easy as one would change one_s mind.
     _What  are  your instructions for us,_ Amba had the look of the dreams
upon her, Sheeana insured this in all her sisters by the constant supply of
Melange,  _I  have seen what we may expect to find here. I dream _something
that I not sure I understand._
     Sheeana  reassured  her,  _You are a Bene Gesserit, so you know how to
control your fears. But I have freed you from some of that, so let the fear
rise a bit if you would learn from it._
     Amba nodded, _Shall we proceed._
     Sheeana_s  only  answer  was  to  continue  to  walk  west towards the
Tleilaxu, her sisters one with her in a shared destiny.

     Techne  itself  was  redefined  by  the  Tyrant  God,  taking on a new
multithreaded  level  of  meaning  after  his  death.  For the teleological
complexity  of  any  system  of creation becomes only the quantum origin of
parallel levels, higher orders, and complex hyperstructures. Is it not then
necessary  to  realize  that  such  an  n-degree  complexity approaches the
infinite  as  the  limit  of  a single occurrence? With infinite complexity
realization  becomes  the  singularity  (as  in web formed by the recursive
series  of  worm,  spice,  humanity),  a doorway into a matrix of similarly
infinite  nodes  within  nodes.  This is the fundamental structure that all
contemporary  thought pays heed to, if it wishes to find itself relevant to
integral progress.
     -GIOAD rules of Techne section xiii.

     Nro  Pathay  surpressed  his outrage with brisk steps as he exited the
GIOAD  Beauropalace  complex  at the heart of the urban-node on Ix. He knew
the  Generalists  would  spout  political  algorithms that projected an 86%
increase in the danger to Ix by destroying the Dune Revenant.
     Lai  Ampre  has  finally given me a clue to removing the no-space that
surrounds  Dune  Revenant_this  would  end  once  and  for  all the Sheeana
problem.
     As  a Cybimech Theorist, Nro had been trained in the art that combined
Mentat  abilities  with  the  once forbidden computer technology that arose
after  the  time  of the Tyrant God. Although mechanical computers had been
created_the  real advancement lay in the bio-neuro-systems engineered using
the human brain as a model. Nro_s brain had been augmented to supercomputer
status   by   the   Ixian   offshoot  of  Tleilaxu  technology  applied  to
neuro-engineering.  But  Nro himself had progressed even beyond this stage.
The   research   associated  with  even  his  early  education  spoke  to a
redefinition  of  language  and  Individual  consciousness to the idea of a
virus.   Nro   had   even   been  successful  in  proving  that  individual
consciousness   could   be   encoded   and   replicated   across  different
neural-networks without degradation.
     I  have made radical advancements of my own. My secrets. The Ones With
Many Faces are not the ones to experiment with the self. I am ready to face
them.
     Nro  Pathay  entered  the  tram  that  curved through the folds of the
urban-node.  Graviton  suspensors  had  grown  in popularity again, after a
brief  resurgence  of magnetic pulse rails. Nro was distracted for a moment
on the way design reoccurred.
     Good design is hard to surpass, yet this is exactly what the Ones With
Many Faces would achieve.
     The   tram   lurched   into  motion,  gravitons  urging  the  opposing
retention-rail  away  to  give the car motion. Nro found the Generalists to
practical,  and  their  disavowing  of  the purer realms of theory kept hem
politically  neutered.  His inner gaze turned toward one such pure realm, a
fiscal-imperialistic  set  of dynamic algorithms that he used to forecast a
future where Ix commanded a universal respect hitherto unseen.
     What  better  way  to ensure Ixian hegemony than to eradicate the Ones
With  Many  Faces.  One  must  turn  to  the  only experts, the Master Face
Dancers.
     The  tram  stopped  in outside a commercial sector, and Nro exited out
into the busy crowd of exchange and adoration of the latest of Ixian wares.
He  moved  through  the  various  shops and displays, performing the ritual
glance  and  nod  toward  the  merchants  and vendors. Nevertheless, Pathay
walked with a second intention that he struggled to hide.
     Two  thousand years ago, Sheeana went into hiding on the Dune Revenant
with  the  help of Ixian no-space generators. My client wishes to help undo
all  of  that  to  save  us  from The Ones With Many Faces. And here I find
myself questioning my _loyalty_ to Ix.
     Nro  stopped  at  a  certain merchant_s booth, custom designed in by a
holocarving  program out of a classic plastic design mold using dumbed-down
polymer generators. The effect was both modern and antique, with a style of
d©cor  that  reminded  Pathy  of  the  Ixian_s  who  had  fled  during  the
Scattering.  The booth was selling the latest in neuro-scramblers, a memory
altering  device popular among both recreational users, as well as creators
in  a  rut  and  people desiring memory changes. The merchant looked Ixian,
wearing  traditional  garb  of  the  Richese  ruling  class from a thousand
years ago.
     _Would  the  customer wish to entertain a new outlook on his life. Our
wears are premium integrity and offer a wide range of features._
     _I_m  looking  for  the more advanced line. Do you have any more units
out back._
     _Of  course  citizen, step back behind the display here,_ the merchant
pointed the way to a room behind him. Nro crossed the boundary and entered,
with the Ixian merchant following close behind.
     Why  won_t  the consul see my numbers? Generalists take no ideological
risks.   While   a   brief  lapse  into  totalitarian  purest  numbers  was
extreme_they do offer 99% assurance.
     The Ixian merchant changed tone and addressed Nro, _What of your plans
to sway the consul._
     _They  would  not  even  give voice to our intentions. We must proceed
with our alternate plan._
     The  Ixian  began  to  transform mid-sentence with a fuilidity of form
never  undisturbing.  The  features  melted  and there was a chilling sound
always accompanied with shape-shifting.
     Nro  continued,  _Lai  Ampre  was close to giving us the secret of the
Ixian  no-space  that surrounds Dune Revenant. The system lies out of phase
with our universe._
     _You_d  best  get  us more detail than that Pathy. We wish to aid your
universe,  but  cannot  do it without certain concessions on your part. The
Master  Face  Dancers  require  certain  questions  to be answered, and the
answers to those questions lay on Dune._
     _My goals are in line with the Face Dancers._
     _Are  they? You do not know of what you speak. Remember the difference
between  Face  Dancers,  the  drones of the Tleilaxu, and my race of Master
Face  Dancers  from  the  Returning.  During the Scattering the Master Face
Dancers  too  were  split  into two factions_just as the Fish Speakers were
once  made  of  Bene  Gesserit  and  Honored  Matres. Your Scattering was a
Seeking  for us, and we traveled out into new realms to find what we would.
While  one  faction  of Master Face Dancer sought to remove themselves from
the  regimens  of biologism, a second faction sought to retain the greatest
qualities  of  human  life.  Between  the  two factions grew an ideological
chasm,  the  first group calling the second _sentimental_, the second group
calling  the first _vain_. The first group seeing biological existence as a
detriment  to  the kind of being it could foresee, moved to _live_ in other
forms_destroying  the  grounding  principles  from  under  their  feet that
propelled  them from singular life to a chaotic symbioorium of hive culture
brought  to  its  ultimate  ends:  anthropomorphogenesis. They followed the
thread of the Tleilaxu Zensunni origins to the ultimate physical expression
of  the  ancient  credo: the one is the all. Hence the Ones With Many Faces
sought  to  destroy  their rivals. We, the remaining faction of Master Face
Dancers  desired different ends. Although we are superior to humans in most
every  way,  we  found  ourselves  growing solipsistic in our mutability, a
contradiction  in  our  ideology that left us weakened for an attack by the
Ones  With  Many  Faces. We still enjoy the singularity of persona that you
humans  give  to  the  universe,  and  we  with many personas still find it
refreshing  to  indulge  in  a  new persona as it comes along. We have many
questions, of Sheeana, of Duncan, of Scytale, that are as yet unanswered._
     _This is why you seek the Dune Revenant._
     _We  seek what the Ones With Many Faces also seek. However, while they
are  combing  through  the  multiverse  in  a wave that spans both past and
future, we are bound by the present to search for the remnants of the past.
This is the urgency of our plight._
     Pathay of course had his own intentions, and he knew these Master Face
Dancers needed his assistance.
     Why they don_t steal my persona is what I can_t figure out. There must
be a weakness in their multi-persona existence that cannot make good use of
a copy.
     _The  encoding  sequence  is  generated  by  an  algorithm  under  the
protection  of the Supreme Technocrat Lai Ampre. Once we have that, how can
you ensure that the Ones With Many Faces haven_t infiltrated your ranks and
will destroy Dune before you learn what you need to._
     _There  is  no insurance. However, we know they find it distasteful to
take human form in any way. Theirs is an overt attack that will not require
subterfuge.  However, be it known that much of Ix has already been replaced
by my people._
     What  does he say! I was sure that some small percentage of Ix had had
members  of  the  Master  Face Dancers as its members. What does he mean by
many.
     _Do  not  look alarmed, Nro Pathay. We offer a controlled continuation
of  humanity,  not  your  destruction. The Ones With Many Faces seek to rid
spacetime  of  so  finite a being a s an individual. We only seek to remain
your  protecting  watchers,  ever-present,  but allowing you the freedom to
dabble  in  humanity  as  you have done for a hundred millennia. The Master
Face  Dancers  have  lived  among  you  for  nearly  fifteen hundred years,
carefully  grooming  and  protecting  you who are our greatest resource and
commodity.  You  did not think that humans developed the Integral Economics
that you are so fond of. The Integration was our gift to humanity, in a way
to ensure the longevity of their survancy to us._
     Pathay  took  a step back. His mind reeled at a number of permutations
of events.
     I  did not dream they were so entrenched. If their plan is so advanced
along, only my backup plans will ensure Ix's role in this affair. My end is
near.
     The Master Face Dancer reached out to Pathy, caressing the side of his
head and the back of his neck.
     "There,  there, Nro. Compliance was never your strong point. There may
still  be  some  use  for you on the Ixian consul, before your ego gets the
best of you. Now sleep, dear human, relax and sleep away your mortality."
     A  few more gentle caresses from the Master Face Dancer, and Nro Pathy
eyes  closed  as if he were asleep. His body collapsed into his companion_s
arms,  who began to shape shift into his mirror image, as he set the corpse
down onto the ground.
     As Dune was, so will it be again! And the Deserts we see are receding,
by  the will of Shaitain, as ordained by Muad_Dib. Fear not, my Fremen, for
the  challenge  is  upon  you.  That the Desert vanishes does not mean that
you  should  abandon your desert ways. For the desert should be within your
heart,  and  the winds of the sandstorm should be the raging of your souls.
And  after  the  Desert  is  gone and the people grow water-fat, it will be
upon  you  to  keep  the  faith.  And your faith will be as the heat of the
noontime  sun.  And  you  will  hold  fast  to  your  ways  like  unto  the
preciousness  of  water  in  the hottest seasons. Only then will the desert
return.

     -Letter of Harq Al-Arda to the Fremen

     Duinain sat for a moment after Jal explained the transmission from her
sister Lai. They sat in the public garden on Ouadra, storm clouds above and
the  cool  breeze  of  the  coming  rain.  Faint rumbles of distant thunder
prelude his breaking of the silence.
     _Lai  never jokes the way she did it that transmission, I think she is
in danger._ Jal leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.
     Duinain  heard  what  she  was saying, but followed a train of thought
that  she  had  evoked  moments  ago  until  he  reached  an  almost Mentat
conclusion. _The Master Face Dancers have infiltrated the Ixian consul, I_m
sure  of  it.  There_s  something  else I haven_t told you. I_ve been doing
some  personal research into the Duncans throughout history. I think one of
them has the ability to see me watching him._
     _What! That doesn_t seem possible. Which Duncan?_
     _The  Duncan.  The  Duncan  who  awoke  the Paul ghola_s memories. The
founder  of Idah-Mirabla. Do you think it has something to do with Duncan_s
Net?_
     After  he spoke, Jal noticed how much Duinain looked like the Duncans.
Short  of  being  one  of  those Duncan Revival Schools, like Hayt-Idah, he
could  pass  for a clone. I_m always surprised that Idah-Mirabla let such a
close  ghola  pass  through.  She  responded  to Duinain’s questions with a
question,  _What are the implications of the Spice Dreams then? This is all
our  opponents  need  to  fuel their campaign against us. We_ll fall to the
wayside like Mesmerism or Regression Hypnosis._
     _Maybe we don_t need their help._
     _What is that supposed to mean?_
     _I_ve  done  a  bit of extrapolating, taking what I_ve inferred by the
Duncan  watching us, and what we_ve gleaned so far about the Ones With Many
Faces.  If  Duncan_s Net allowed him to see the Master Face Dancers, and we
know that somehow, the Ones With Many Faces are a faction of that group, we
know that they could see Duncan. _
     _Where are you going with this._
     _I  think  the  threat of the Ones With Many Faces is occurring across
spacetime.  Their  perfection  of  shapeshifting has gone beyond everything
we_ve  imagined.  They  have found a way to spread like a cancer throughout
the  present,  past,  and  future.  I_m not sure of their intentions or how
they_re  able  to  do  this,  but  it doesn_t look good for the children of
humanity._
     _All this leads us to Lai and Ix._
     _Ix is the crossroads in more ways than one._
     _You  think  that  whatever is causing Lai to be alarmed, ties back to
Dune Revenant?_
     _We  need  to  talk to your sister. The Technocrat Imperator of Ix may
need  to reveal the secret of the Ixian cloaking of that planet. We need to
find out the truth about Sheeana._

     In  an  age  of  spacefolding  machines and synthetic spice, one would
think interstellar travel would become a commonplace event. Given the shift
in travel from the mythic times of the Tyrant God, which was conducted only
out  of  His  will  and his allocation of resource, travel was surprisingly
uncommon.  The  millennial celebration of the Fish Speaker Schools had been
an  exception  to  a society that was not interested in travel, despite the
ease in which it was made possible. The advent of the techniques of Persona
Shifting  some centuries before aided to the decline of the urge to travel.
As  the  popular saying went, " I_ve never been there, but I_ve Shared with
someone  who  has,_ the borrowing of the experiences of others lends itself
to  a more passive attitude to place. Still, a certain amount of travel was
always  needed,  and  GIOAD  managed  to  reap  some benefits and set style
precedents that kept the interests of certain Schools through the interests
of  a  certain  number of strategic Individuals within key Schools. Some of
the  GIOAD travel companies, which specialized in interstellar transport of
goods,  were  finding  it harder to find people to accept these jobs, until
they subsidized the couriers of Persona Shifts from distant regions.
     Lack  of demand and specialized Fish Speaker School interests resulted
in  a  severely  regulated  travel  system  that made it difficult for just
anyone  to  travel  offworld. Jal_s was connected to the Ixian High Consul,
and  her  status  as  the sister of Lai Ampre gave her familial rights at a
level  that  both  GIOAD  and  the  Fish  Speaker Schools all recognized as
nothing  short  of  carte  blanche.  Within a few days, Duinian and Jal had
wrapped  up the loose ends so rapid a departure would create, and they were
enroute to IX on a GIOAD transport. The transport resembled the traditional
heighlighter  from antiquity, these were run by Guild Steersman (travellers
tended to notice a smoother ride), envisioning the mechanics of the journey
with the aided of the latest in orange synthspice gas.
     Duinain  was  eager  to  Spice Dream during the Spacefold. He had once
Persona  Shared  with  a  multiverse physicist who claimed that the folding
technique  enhanced  the accessibility of stray timelines. Guilds Steersman
had  to  study  elaborate  techniques to focus their travels through such a
mire  of  causality. Duinian told Jal of his theory that they might be able
to perceive some sort of stray Dream Noise while space folded.
     _I_m  surprised  that  you  never  tried this before,_ Jal goaded him,
_Your  must  not  be a curious as you were when we first met, with all your
new recognition at Idah-Mirabla._
     _When does any Individual travel, I never got the chance before._
     _Now  that  you_ve  spoken  at  the  Millennial Celebrations, I_m sure
you_ll be an honored guest across the universe._
     Duinain  smiled.  Jal  had that effect on him often, although they did
not Persona Share as much as was common among friends.
     We  Dream  of a past where people spoke to one another to communicate.
We  are  friends out of the same interest in this ancient art form. Persona
Sharing has become a business transaction.
     _Now I want you to relax, and not to focus on anything._
     Jal held his hand, _You relax, and don_t stray to far from my lead. If
we_re  too pick up Dream Noise that_s too rough or choppy, I want you close
by._ They held close until realty slipped away_.

     ...sharpley, in every direction, they appear in the dark...

     The Ones With Many Faces looked out at the multiverse from there own brand of
     senses. They causated each gesture like a ripple in a three dimensional pool, waves of
     sensing expanding outward, finding the objects of their communal thoughts like sonar
     beacons.  Echoes returned as ideas and impressions, a blending of the physical world
     and the world of ideas.  They had changed beyond even the Master Face Dancers in
     their mutability, allowing form and the formed to reside as one in their being.  And the
     constant reminder of the Individuals from which they evolved acted like a limiting virus,
     a common tie to us that the Master Face Dancers had somehow grown to respect,
     although in a way that was quite inhuman.  The Ones With Many Faces saw the
     Individual as their own brand of Original Sin, their Fall from the ultimate mutability that
     they strove for.  The sought the eradication of the Individuals not on the grounds of any
     maliciousness,  they sought to remove them in their role as a strange atrractor of a
     brand of Order that drew their attention away from the Ultimate Chaos they sought to
     embrace....

     _a question in the dark, distorted voices, call and respond.

                    WE ASK THE STATUS OF THE
                    INDIVIDUALS

                         We Comply To Our Request
                         With Segmented Factual Reports
                         From Our Various Sectors

                              (images of Duncan
                              and Scytale in one
                              area, Sheeana and
                              Leto in another,
                              Paul, Teg)
                              (Sheena_s voice:
                              _the Golden Path
                              unfurled? Out of the
                              diversity of
                              mankind._)

                    COMPLIANCE RECOGNITION
                    ACCEPTED WE SHALL BEGIN

     Waves of sensing expanding around the focus.  Echoes returned with ideas that the
     questions invoked. They embraced this Chaos, so dampened by the very existence of
     the Individual Order, driving the Ones With Many Faces through the mulitverse in
     search of a way to remove the concept of the Individual.  The sought liberation.  Our
     mutual demise was their jihad.  The Ones With Many Faces reviewed what had
     transpired, regrouping, planning_

                         Sector One reports combine
                         sisterhood offering great
                         resistance to the futars and our
                         shapeshifters.

                               (image Murbella,
                              various sisters in
                              battle)
                               (Murbella_s voice:
                              _I want one of them
                              captured alive.  We
                              need to trace them
                              back to their
                              makers._)

                         Time projects show Murbella
                         succeeds with assistance of Old
                         Tleilaxu to CONTINUE humanity
                         with help of ghola conceptions
                         and enhancement possibility.

                    SUGGEST STUDY OF FISH SPEAKER
                    SCHOOLS

                         Sector Two reports steps taken
                         to uncover the Dune Revenant

                              (image of Master
                              Face Dancer Lrolan
                              and Nro Pathay)

                         Those from whom we evolved,
                         Those Master Face Dancers
                         choose compliance with
                         Individuals.  They seek
                         Individuals as a fixed ground to
                         base persona.  Indications are
                         resistance to Memory Sharing
                         among several key groups.

                    CONTINUE OBSERVATION
                    OF...INTERUPTION!!

     ...eyes in the dark looking back...

                    WHO WATCHES US? IMMEDIATE
                    RELOCATION OF SPACETIME FOCI...

     Causated gesture rippled, the pools waves sensed inwardly, fleeing the objects of their
     communal protection.  Echoes faded and folded out of consciousness, a dim
     impression grown dimmer, a blending of the physical world with the void until nothing.
     dark. silent. gone.

     The  Spice  Dream ended abruptly, timed with the announcement that the
transport  was  entering real space from out of the fold. The humorous mood
of only a few moments before was eclipsed by this dire revelation. Both Jal
and Duinain remained silent for several minutes after their Spice Dream.
     Jal  was  the  first  to break the silence, "We were forced out of the
Spice  Dream. I don't know if it was due to the ending of the Space Fold or
if those Face Dancers had something to do with it."
     "The Ones With Many Faces pushed us out of the Dream. What I'm worried
about  is how well timed our exit from Spacefold coincided with our Dream."
Duinain thought his next sentence in silence:
     If  the  Guild Steersman was replaced by a Master Face Dancer it would
explain the convenience of our Dream.
     Duinain  grab  hold of Jal and pulled close to her ear. "Persona Share
with me." He whispered it pressed against her head, kissing her hair.
     In  tight  proximity,  they allowed the blending of their memories and
experiences.  They  could instantly catch-up on everything they had thought
about,  but  did  not desire to speak aloud. The Persona Sharing allowed no
secrets,  and  opened  the possibility that others would learn your secrets
if  they  Shared  with someone you had Shared with. This was not a time for
secrets.

     Jal and Duinain were locked into their mutual thoughts.

     Duinain's  flood of ideas hit her like a technical manual of his life.
Ideas. Permutations of these ideas. Meta-ideas.

          The Master Face Dancers are at war with the Ones With Many Faces.  They are
          holding onto Individuality while the Ones With Many Faces seek its destruction.
          Cancer has infected the multiverse as it it were an individual.  Parasites within
          parasites.  Cancers within cancers.  They spread both in the past and the future.
          Unbound.

     Jal's  wave  of ideas was graceful, aware of the art of dreaming, they
had hard aesthetics. Forms attended by Care.

          Master Face Dancers in the Guild?  This means Master Face Dancers seek to
          sow the know fields with their watching presence.  They hide in GIOAD.   They
          lay waiting on Ix.  We were meant to 'discover' the Ones With Many Faces.  They
          help us, to keep us alive.  They are the beekeepers. We are the bees that produce
          the sweet honey of Individuality and Persona.  They crave us.

     As the Sharing, each was left with a sense of urgency. That Ix and the
Dune  Revenant  were  locked  in  a  course that spoke to the future of the
Individual and the mulitverse. And one final thought, personal, between the
two of them.
     As  they  exited  the transport into the craft that would take them to
the transit station below on Richese, they both questioned what it meant to
love someone at a time of such duress.The hive was
                              agitated; many
                              new occurrences
                              had been filtering
                              through its folds _
                              the Duncan, the
                              Scytale, the
                              temporal
                              Sheeana.  But the
                              newest
                              resurgence, the
                              Again Muad_Dib,
                              had caused
                              ripples_no_storms_through
                              out the collective
                              of the Ones With
                              Many Faces. 
                              When the whole
                              was disturbed to
                              this level, they
                              would see a need
                              to take action.  
                              The persona
                              waves darted and
                              reflected across a
                              million
                              experiences, but
                              still, they cannot
                              breach the berth
                              of their nestling
                              arrogance, of the
                              shelled newness
                              that their hive has
                              encased then
                              heavy within.  The
                              Muad_Dib was
                              known to many. 
                              So many still were
                              moved by his
                              myth.  We seek to
                              nurture what our
                              beloved
                              Individuals seek
                              in the beloved
                              Again Muad_Dib. 
                              For their rich
                              experience
                              insures the most
                              succulent crop of
                              stolen live
                              experience when
                              we seek to reap
                              our deadly
                              harvest. 
                                     -Master Face
                                           Dancer
                                    commentary.

  

        When Duncan Idaho and Miles Teg entered the newly built Tleilaxu Center, Scytale was seated
behind a monitor, flanked on each side by a personal guard.  The guards were obviously Face
Dancers, but as colossal as they were dexterous.  Duncan noticed that the genes employed to create
these two came from the Tyrant_s Fish Speaker guards _ with enhancements to the usual
phenotypes.  Scytale was making good use of the Bene Gesserit breeding records to facilitate his
new axlotl creations. 
         Scytale looked up from his screen to greet them, _My Masterpieces.  Examples of two uses of
the genius of our ghola creations, one constructed to our specifications and beyond our wildest
expectations, and the other beyond our wildest dreams reconstructed for our purposes._ The blue
light of the screen cast a preternatural aura about his elfin features. 
         Who is more the ghoul, he or we? 
         Duncan_s thoughts jumped from appearance to personal history.   Few had history together as
they did.  Hayt had not cared for his Scytale.  Duncan cared not for this one. 
         Teg waited for Scytale_s features to loose the Tleilaxu grin before he spoke. 
         _We_re here for answers, not questions._ 
         Scytale was unmoved by Teg_s position.  How many times had gholas wanted answers?  This
time was not unlike every other, except that only now had he begun to regain the hopes for a Tleilaxu
future. 
           Am I the chosen one?  The last one who was saved to prove how close we Bene Tleilax
were to becoming extinct.  I have been awakened. 
         His thoughts were often punctuated by the words _Whores_ or _Witches_, and yet he had to
admit that his association with the Bene Gesserit had taught him the possibility of trust among the
powindah.  And the Honored Matres had proven that no enemy could be underestimated. 
         What were these two up to? 
         Teg spoke, _Sheeana is destroying the axlotl tanks that contain the gholas of Jessica and Alia
as we speak._ 
 Scytale paled and after a silence Teg continued, _Do we have your attention now._ 
 Scytale had not felt as cornered as he did this moment since his imprisonment on the Noship all
those years.  Yet still he managed a smile, one that the Tleilaxu were notorious for, to smugly betray
for all his thoughts: 
         Powindah!  Shokran.  You still prove yourselves my tools. 
         Scytale turned the momentum of the conversation as he turned from Teg to face Duncan. 
         _Do either of you even begin to hear the arrogance with which you speak_you are our
creations!  What would you know of the grandeur that we work toward._ 
         _I_m not the only project of yours that has _exceeded expectations_ Scytale_don_t you
understand that your method, your Tleilaxu grandeur, has become obsolete_the Master Face
Dancers and the Ones With Many Faces are no longer even remotely human.  They are your
monsters, you have only succeeded in creating what can only be called an alien species.  And they
are interested in every move we make.  I know this._ 
         Scytale faced Duncan, taking an uncharacteristic step toward him. 
         Does Duncan speak to them_How can this be? 
         Duncan read the reaction and followed through,  _You_re holding onto ideas that no longer
have intrinsic value.  It_s slipped through your slippery Tleilaxu fingers.  You_ve preserved the rules
for all these millennia, but the game has changed, the players have left.  And Teg and myself aren_t
the only ones returning angry._ 
 In that moment, with Scytale stepping back in slow motion away from him, Duncan found himself
holding onto his Net, reeling in a image of many who were coming.  They were already in spacefold,
and Duncan could almost hear the spacefold algorithms of a Guild-like spice navigator focusing their
intention of destination upon the Dune Revenant. 
         They are coming after us!  Teg, Scytale, and Myself.  Only I don_t know whom. 
         Duncan noticed Scytale still hadn_t completed his backstep, when a series of images and
visions exploded into his mind.  He saw the Tyrant asking the Universe to become Leto and the
Master Face Dancers worshiping this reversal of the history he knew.  Duncan saw the Ones With
Many Faces fearing Paul, they kept referring to him as the Again Individual, and Paul was not Paul. 
        And Duncan Idaho realized his role in the universe had been the unique gift of the tyrant. 
        I have become the embodiment of the friend of humanity.  My Atreidies loyalty has
evolved over all these millennia into its most basic state: loyalty to humanity. 
        His oracular web had now captured several disparate groups, that he now saw as part of what
would be the future of humanity.  The cancerous of the Ones With Many Faces; the sentimentality of
the Master Face Dancers who escaped to warn us and protect the concept of individual humanity;
the hybridization of Bene Gesserit and Honored Matre that Murbella was cultivating into fruition;
Sheeana_s sisters who would become the worm as did Leto. 
For the first time, Duncan realized the one use of melange that had escaped him before. 
        Metaphor.  Melange, for all its enhancements and secrets that it has revealed to us over
the years had on use we had overlooked.  It is a metaphor for the mixture of all these
elements onto a new humanity, ever-changing.  This is Leto_s Golden Path that I am walking
down!  How ironic that I should find myself a _prophet_ of the great Via Guldur. 
         Teg was suddenly saying something, something that caused Duncan to move away from his
Net and back towards where he had been.  In Scytale_s room, Teg was motioning to a handheld
vidbook. 
          He_s about to warn us of something.  I can tell by his expression. 
          Something had hold of Duncan from inside his vision, some force that would not let him free
himself. 
         Teg is warning me about something!  But I can't respond.. 
         Duncan stretched the limits of looking, gazing in a way that seemed to just come to him,
despite how unnatural it seemed, he willed this new gaze inwardly.  The Master Face Dancers came
to him, only after he peered into the corners of his hyperreal peripheral vision.  There were several of
them  in strategic places of his heightened perception, each holding out a special form of his attention,
each pining his awareness outside of the normal framework of the moment.  Duncan saw Teg
motioning toward the door, and a sudden look of concern on Scytales face. 
        They are coming for us, and they're holding me here helpless! 
        Duncan tried to fathom a way out of his dilemma.  The paralysis of his body seemed to give him
extra time mentally, time perhaps to devise a plan. 
        As if they live with one foot in my vision. 
        Duncan_s fear rose for a moment and it reminded him of one particular death he experience by
Leto, in which he was pinned beneath Leto_s massive sandworm body, slowly suffocated and
crushed under his weight.  Something began to give way among his unseen captors. 
        The death_s I_ve lived distracts them.  This is the key to their holding me. 
        Duncan began to rapid fire the memories of his many deaths through his mind, layering them as
one would apply paint coat upon coat.  The Master Face Dancers who trapped him within the vision
began to loose sight of the living Duncan, given the odd and slippery nature of a remembered dying. 
        I_m slipping from their hold on me. 
        Teg was suddenly moving at regular speed, and speaking from out of mid-sentence, __that
they_ll arrive at our exact coordinates.  I just can_t figure how they found us, and how quickly they
are moving into our local star system._ 
Duncan intuited what had transpired, but took no time to explain it to Teg. 
        _Where were you just then,_  Teg came back, realizing from Duncan_s expression that
something had been amiss. 
        _No time to explain. Miles they are after us.  Especially Scytale and myself._  Scytale never lost
his ability to look disturbing, even when frightened. 
        Duncan continued, _That_s right Scytale.   Your creations want you.  They want to know what
it is like to die as many times as we have._ 
  
As the first Hermit
                              took the spice
                              Knew, 
                              As Muad_Dib
                              Knew, 
                              So the desert
                              Preacher Knows. 
                              Protect the spice,
                              for it is Shai-Hulud. 

                              For did not the
                              Hermit first learn to
                              hate the desert and
                              the sandworm for
                              taking away his
                              people.  Did he not
                              learn to make stone
                              his heart and go out
                              into the desert for
                              his revenge.  And in
                              the years that
                              followed, did he not
                              learn the secrets of
                              the desert, and did
                              not the desert both
                              empty and fill his
                              heart.  And there
                              did he learn of the
                              sandworm and
                              partake of the
                              spice.  And his
                              wicked joining with
                              Shai-hulud. 
                                
                                     -Sermon of
                                  Preacher to the
                                        Fremen.

  

        Sheeana looked out over a perfect reproduction of a sietch from the old Dune, contained within
the area of Scytale_s Novo Tleilaxu colony. 
         So this was what  Scytale sought to achieve!  Not only has he regenerated the Old
Tleilaxu Counsel, he is reproducing an entire Fremen population.  Is this all for the benefit of
the mahadi, for the Ghola Muad_Dib? 
         The scene was horrific.  Tleilaxu mule technicians, rapidly grown with only the most specialized
skills, had been produced by the thousands to facilitate a slave construction crew.  They were
programed to do certain functions and die when their tasks were completed.  In this way they hand
crafted this Fremen sietch in only a few weeks. 
         While I was tending to Shai_Hulud in the deep desert bled, these Tleilaxu manage to
rebuild a Fremen city! 
        Every detail was there: stillsuits that seemed to have been worn in for comfort and authenticity,
windtraps for moisture built to the ancient specifications (Why wouldn_t they be.  Scytale is from the
Arrakis Times),  along the outer sietch wall toward a low dune ridge, there were even a pile of
Maker Hooks aligned ready for a spice party to summon a worm. 
        These Tleilaxu Fremen will not ride my sandworms!  This charade must be stopped. 
        Towards a newly constructed area of the sietch diorama, Tleilaxu mules loaded other mule
corpses into reclamation units. The whole place smelled of sickly sweet burning flesh and dank
sweat, a combination that seemed to go unnoticed by the mules (some of them didn_t seem to have
been bred with faces, let alone the ability to smell).  Almost replused to the point of reciting the
Litany Against fear, Sheeana turned the horror into another lesson for her sisters. 
        _Bathe in the horror of this event, and know human repulsion, and remember well this feeling. 
One day soon, you will no longer have your human instinct to guide you, and this memory will be a
new myth that will be passed onto a new brood._ 

        The moment slipped by her, she suddenly was aware of herself remembering her speaking
these words, a deja vu from a past two thousand years before.  Sheeana was one with the
sandworm now, and her sisters (those who had survived) were one with the sandworm now.  And
she imagined that all of this had never happened, and yet it had happened nonetheless.  And she
began to remember the first ingestion of the spice, in a way that no one had ever remembered
before, as her remembering of the past was actually a writing of the past. And this is what she wrote,
not on a ridulian crystal or on leaves of paper, on onto a filmbook reader.   Sheeana wrote these
words upon the very history of humanity, not so humanity could recall the words, but that she could
have humanity call the words into existence: 

          THE BOOK OF SHAI-HULUD 

          Before the spice there was the sandworm.  Before the blue in blue eyes of
          spice addiction. 

          Would the history of melange return us to the desert and shai-hulud--to
          shaitain's furnace? Oh the little makers and their passing of a line etched
          out in the sands of sun blasted days, hinting towards a water or life. 

          Who is the first Fremen to take the melange, to know, to wonder in its
          hold?  Here marks the days before the marking of the blue in blue eyes. 
          Look now into the world of this time. 

          What was handed over to the Fremen at that time was time itself. 

          Before the blue in blue eyes, much earlier we gaze, comes the ingestion of
          the spice melange for the first time.  It becomes a reference point, etched
          in its taste upon the tongue, that parts the sands of time and memory as
          before and after melange. 

          Legend says he was a hermit, in a southern Dune sea--but that he had
          once been a part of an ancient clan of which he is the only surviving
          member. 
          So he choose his path in giving himself up to the desert, but not without a
          fight.  The desert would have to take him with a struggle--for he would
          defy the sun, and the sand, and above all, he would defy shaitain.  The
          hermit would not surrender to him, as the desert had yet to reclaim his
          precious water. 

          The Hermit had educated himself in the secrets of Shai-Hulud and in the
          desert ways that the Fremen had not yet learned.  For the Fremen were
          new to this world.  Legend says the hermit was the first worm-rider, and
          that when he first took the spice melange, the spice stole his secrets.  For
          the spice is as unforgiving as it is ruthless, and the other Fremen who
          would later emulate him by taking the spice would learn the wealth of
          desert lore through the spice, whispered into the minds of each whose
          eyes would carry the blue in blue mark.

         The dream gave way with the unfolding of events around Sheeana and her dozen sisters that
remained with her.  The others had been sent off with to fulfill her plans, preparations for Sheeana's
New Path. 
        I am living now in the present.  But I also live in the most eldritch past and most
enigmatic future.  I am the sculptor again. 
        As construction proceeded around them, sietchs being constructed to the left and right, they
noticed a Tleilaxu craft that was doubling for a command center.   A number of Mastif looking
Tleilaxu were commanding construction-mules when they took notice of Sheeana's party. 
        One of the Mastif, surrounded by a group of war-mules, broke from their duties and began  to
advance upon the Sisters.  Sheeana, with a gesture, held her sisters' advancement, while she
continued to move forward. 
        "Mother Superior, I must advise against you meeting them without someone at your side." It
was Amba who protested, but Sheeana gave only a quick look and Amba understood. 
        My Sister's know my intentions with only the slightest gesture.  Many of them hear the
calling of Shai-Hulud.  The time draws near. 
        The war-mules marched to the left, while the Tleilaxu Mastif walked closer towards Sheeana. 
Unlike the specialized construction mules that were more like bio-machinery, devoid of more than
the most basic sentience, the war-mules retained more human aspects.  The Tleilaxu had discovered
that without human drives, even ghola soldiers could not achieve the levels of combat prowess that
were necessary for a military maneuver. 
        The Mastif Nahual greeted Sheeana, although he was still far enough away from her that he had
to shout. 
        "Welcome, our most honored guest, to this place that is our most obesent offering to God." 
Sheeana could see his teeth as he smiled even from that distance. 
        She held off from speaking as the two walked toward each other.   Her vision was still clouding
her mind and she had a vague recollection (Other Memory?  She could no longer tell) that during the
time that Muad'Dib was blinded, and roamed the desert as the Preacher, he spoke of this Hermit. 
        Am I confusing imagination with reality.  Have I somehow been given the right to dream
the past in my way? Now that I remember events yet to come, is the past no longer fixed? 
        Mastif Nahual spoke again, "You should be pleased by our gesture, we are recreating Dune in
homage to the ghola Muad'Dib.  Quite an accomplishment for the few years we've been at work,
with our maximzing some of the problems of labor and efficientcy." 
        Again the smlie.  He oozes contempt and fear for me worsethat Scytale ever did. 
        "You realize that I am not pleased, Nahual,"  Sheeana layered in an uncertain amout of Voice,
more out of artistry than to influence, "when Tleilaxu disobey my simplest taboos." 
        "When only wished to create those gholas to give young Paul a mother and a daughter, prehaps
as a playmate.  We learned of the destruction of the Jessica and Gahnima gholas earlier today.  You
realize Sheeana, that those Jessica cells are impossible to recover, we've tied off a genetic posibilty
for the future."   Nahual teethed a smile.  "A sad lose." 
        By now the war-mules were between Sheeana and her sisters. 
        It is not the time to act as a threat, but to gain an ally. 
        "Nahual, my Sister's have been out in the strom for weeks.  Could you allow us comforts after
such an ordeal." 
        "But of course.  Soon we all shall find comfort in our new Fremen home." 

  

  
                                                                            The Tleilaxu
                                   Inversion has
                                   effected more than
                                   the history of the
                                   body, in brings into
                                   question our role in
                                   the universe.  What
                                   is ecology? What is
                                   natural? Given the
                                   shift in the human,
                                   how can we truly
                                   answer either
                                   question?  The
                                   models we use to
                                   govern our lives
                                   upon a given planet 
                                   give way, now that
                                   they are stretched
                                   out to the scale of
                                   the universe. Our
                                   cultural viewpoint
                                   collapses.  Stretch
                                   these rules out to
                                   encompass reality
                                   itself, and they fade
                                   from meaning.  They
                                   fade from memory
                                   as they fade from
                                   causality.  From
                                   here, from the side
                                   of our river we ask,
                                   'What does a river
                                   represent in such a
                                   universe", and we
                                   listen, awaiting the
                                   answer.

                                    -from the Idah-Mirabla Fish
                                           Speaker School.

  

     Lai Ampre stood before a slightly larger than handsized object, resting atop a meter high metallic
stand.  Jal and Duinain had arrived earlier, and the three met in Lai_s chambers for both the privacy
and security that the place offered.  The object between, roughly spherical with exposed circuitry as
was the fashion in recent years in Ix, was the focus of Lai_s attentions.  Lai motioned to the two
guards that stood by the door, upon which they exited her chamber, and closed the doors behind
them.  They were alone. 
     _I have come across_information, that I think the two of you will find most beneficial,_ Lai
spoke, as she gestured across the top front of the sphere. 
     The device suddenly became active.  Duinain considered the fact that all Ixians were born with
bio-electronic implants that could interface with any external device, if so programmed. 
     Three plates lifted slightly from the surface of the device, which slowly lifted from the stand until it
was hovering freely in front of them like a glowglobe.  Within a moment, the room was instantly
engulfed in blackness. 
     _This device will project a holographic map of the known universes around us,_ Lai explained the
references of the map, and on cue they were surrounded by a projection of galaxies and stars.  _This
is a representation of our universe, and this, is space currently occupied by the Ones With Many
Faces._  The outer areas, the regions from the Scattering beyond the Old Empire, were suddenly
engulfed in a red haze, which extended throughout the projected map, overtaking much of the local
regions of space. 
     _This next display uses multidimensional wave compression to depict the multiverse,_ The display
blinked and twisted that reminded Duinain of the shapeshifted of the Tleilaxu face dancers.  The final
product was a three dimensional version of other dimensions. 
     _The image resembles a tree of modular functions,_ Jal looked up to her sister and asked, _Each
bud represents a universe?_ 
     _Exactly, but watch what happens when I interpolate the influence of the Ones With Many
Faces,_ Lai gestured, and the red haze expanded out of the bud that was our universe, and cascaded
into the buds of the represented multiverse. 
     Duinain reacted, _You mean to tell me they are expanding into other dimensions beyond our own
universe._ 
     _Think about it, if humans from the scattering could have explored other universes, thousands of
years ago, why can_t these creatures conquer other universe,_  Lai pointed to the device and the
image disappeared.  _There are no easy solutions to this dilemma._ 
     Jal spoke directly, _Lai, Duinain and I are here because we need to find Dune.  We have a theory
about Sheeana, and we need to find her, talk with her.  We need to be the ones to take the step._ 
      Before Lai could answer the doors of the chamber swung open and several of Lai_s personal
guard entered. 
     _What is the meaning of this!  Who has given you__ Lai was cut off by the entrance of Nro
Pathay. 
     This is not Nro! 
     For a moment, all were silent.  Then, the noise of shapeshifting ensued.  To watch a Face Dancer
metamorphose was a sight difficult to adapt to, unless of course, one was Tleilaxu.  Even with the
strong Mentat training inherent in Idah-Mirabla, the image of flesh twisting, transforming both in
shape, color and texture, was more than the senses could digest.  Mentats had shared the same
homeworld with the Tleilaxu in ancient times, Duinain thought, and still the sight of the halfdozen
guards and Pathay transforming was unnerving. 
    So, these are Master Face Dancers that have infiltrated the Ixian homeworld.  Between Ix
and the Guild, I wonder how far they extend outside the Integral Economic regions of
GIOAD? 
     The sound of the shapeshifting in such a quiet and enclosed space was most unnerving.  As no
one spoke aloud, the cracklings of cartilage articulating into new positions, that scrapings of muscles
across bones and joints, and the simple shifting of clothing raised a cacophony that triggered of a
flood of questions in Duinains mind. 
     So many among us and we never even suspected.  All our precautions useless against these
monsters. 
     After faux Ixians had revealed their Tleilaxu origins, the Face Dancer who had been Nro Pathay,
now returned to his neutral state, was the first to break the speaking silence. 
    _Permit me to show myself in my true form, Supreme Technocrat Ampre,_ the Face Dancers tone
was low a respectful, almost sensitive to the difficulty of the present situation. _You may continue to
call me Nro Pathay, as you would find that persona most familiar to relate to on a personal level.  Or
I may offer to you a new persona, Lrolan, with whom you may feel more comfortable speaking to. 
We have no root persona, but Lrolan was an ancient diplomant, and seems aprropriate for the
situation." 
     They have no names! This is the mark of one to whom hive culture itself is an ancient
creation. 
     Duinain took the words to their ultimate limit, that the Master Face Dancers had a hive culture,
Lrolan_s choices of the words persona and relate, these words spoke of some new development. 
     Have these Face Dancers rebelled against the dictate of an advanced hive culture like the
Ones With Many Faces. 
     The implications of a hive culture gone to extremes taxed the limits of his mind, geared as it was
towards Spice Dreaming.  Nevertheless, Duinain was firstly an historian, and the outcome of much of
his dileration was already know. 
     Master Face Dancers!  These rebels represent a fringe group.  Interaction with Individual
persona has an attraction for them  This is their Returning, from a hive that has outlawed
Individuation to the degree of genocide. 
     Lai tempered her anger. _How long have you been Nro Pathy?_ 
     Not replaced but have been.  She accepts him and is already accessing the potential alley in
this new Lorlan. 
     _Only recently.  I would have continued to remain hidden by his visage if not for the haste with
which our Spice Dreamers seek the Sheeana._ 
     Jal interupted, _So you know that she is still alive._ 
     _More than that.  She plans. As do the Ones With Many Faces plan, As do we all plan. The
Sheeana wishes our coming.  Perhaps she even wills it from the hidden Dune._ 
      Lai Ampre considered the options and offered, "You ask for much.  If I reveal the quantum
encryption that hides the hidden Dune, do I rescue  our universe from the Ones With Many Faces,
only to surrender to our being the pets of the Master Face Dancers." 
      Lai turned her back to the group and walked toward a small table by the rooms largest window. 
She lifted from the top a small device, a simple crystal storage pin, not larger than a needle, the kind
used to transfer data from a neural implant. 
      Nro/Lrolan spoke to her while her back was still turned, "Perhaps we have something else to
offer you in return." 
      Lai inserted the storage pin into a cranial slot behind  her left ear.  "What is your offer." 
      "Give the pin to Duinain and Jal, I shall send three of my companions with them to the hidden
Dune and Sheeana.  However, Lai Ampre, you should accompany me to a new destination.  We
shall depart for the original planet Dune, to behold what this world has become." 
      Lai handed the pin to Jal, and cupped her hands around her sisters. 
      Two groups leave now for two Dunes.  Noree watch over us, as Sheeana surely does. 
  
  SHAITAIN:  _Where do you find yourself now?_ 
                    HERMIT:  _There is only man and Shai-hulud here._ 
                    SHAITAIN:  _What of the past and the future?_ 
                    HERMIT:  _They meet as we do now, standing in the desert
                    sands._ 
                    SHAITAIN:  _What does the desert_s voice say now?_ 
                    HERMIT:  _That Time and the Observer must stand still with each
                    other. This and this alone._ 
                    SHAITAIN:  _What of the Other voices?_ 
                    HERMIT:  _All take shelter from the winds of the sandstorm._ 
                    SHAITAIN:  _Are you not but water?_ 
                    HERMIT:  _Is Shai-hulud not the fire of the sun?_ 
                    SHAITAIN:  _What action will you take?_ 
                    HERMIT:  _Waiting._ 
                    SHATAIN:  _Then the sandworm shall consume you._

  

     The thunder of the approaching lighters grew louder.  Teg counted out loud to make their
numbers known. 
     _two, three ships_Scytale, we need to be armed if we are going to save any of our lives._ 
     Scytale made a quick hand gesture to his guards.  Moments later, several war-mules returned
with plasaguns. Duncan and Teg each were handed plasma rifles, and Teg motioned positions to the
various men.  Sounds of energy weapons discharging could be heard outside of the Neo Tleilax
Center.  Two of Scytale's burley personal guards attended the only entrance to the chamber. 
     Duncan thought of Paul. 
     His fate rests in the hands of Rebbeca and the men Teg has worked so hard to train. 
     Teg was ordering war-mules to key positions.  He turned to Duncan, _You_d best move Scytale
back to safer point.  I_ll send word to the Rabbi_s men that we have a situation._ 
     Now sooner did Duncan look at Scytale then the chambers door vaporized with the
characteristic haze from a plasma blast.  As the haze cleared, the two guards lay slumped on the
floor.  As plasma blasts pierced the haze from outside, Duncan grabbed Scytale by his arm and
jerked him to a rear door of the chamber. 
     Teg backpedaled behind the rooms communications console, which Scytale used to monitor the
axlotl production rooms, as well as communicate with the various Masters on Dune below.  Teg
watched as several war-mules were blasted by plasma-fire coming from outside.  Under his
command, the rallied with return fire. 
     _You three,  retreat back with me!  The rest, return fire until my men arrive!  We need more
men._  The smell of plasma burn just hit his nostrils as he launched into action. 
     Teg covered the retreat of three of Scytale_s personal guards, and then headed for the same door
that Duncan  moved through.  Just before he entered he caught a glimpse of the enemy that was
advancing into the Center. 
     Ones with Many Faces! Not Master Face Dancers!  Not even remotely human, these
monsters. How did they find their way here.  Must have discovered the foldspace encryption. 

     Duncan and Scytale ran past several halls that led to axlotl labs.  Scytale fought Duncan_s grasp. 
     _They will destroy all of our work.  We have acquired new permutations of ghola cells.  I cannot
leave this work behind._ 
     Ten years of ghola blending will be lost today. 
     Duncan held firmly onto Sctale.  They ran around a corner that turned past the white walls of the
axlotl chambers only to find more Ones With Many Faces. 
     They must have found a second entrance! 
     Several vaguely humanoid creatures blocked the end of the long, sterile hallway.  Duncan look
for an alternate route but there was none. 
     Trapped. 
     Then the Ones With Many Faces performed the strange melding that had earned their name to
the few survivors that lived to tell what these abhorrent face dancers had evolved into.  The shape
shifting took on a new dimension, as the humanoid figures began to meld into each other into a trap. 
Soon, a web of flesh and limbs snapped towards them. 
     Duncan_s heightened reflexes allowed him to both through Scytale backwards, role out of the
way of a dozen arms grabbing to constrain them. 
     Where are their weapons?  They want to capture us alive. 
     Duncan fired into the multicreature with his short plasma rifle, after rolling back out of its grasp. 
Each discharge blasted a series of holes into the centralized torsos. 
     Big enough to jump through. 
     The creature screamed as many screams.  Duncan looked back quickly to see Scytale was gone,
turned back around the corner. 
     No time to get him now.     
     Ignoring the abhorrent stench, Duncan leapt through the wound, out through the other side of the
multicreature. 
     A  quick reversal and Duncan was firing several bursts into the back of the creature.  Heads
relocated behind itself to find its lost prey, but it was too late.  The multicreature lay immobile before
him.  An explosion sounded from the axlotl chambers. 
     As much as I regret to, I must reach that Old Tleilaxu Master before these things do. 
     Duncan ran back toward the direction of the blast.  Teg was still by the entrance of the main
chamber, several war-mules firing blasts into the primary breach. 
     _Their not advancing very hard.  I think this might have been a distraction.  That_s when I heard
this second explosion." 
     Duncan and Teg ran down the hall in the direction of this second explosion.  There Scytale had
been enveloped in a multicreature similar to the first one, a cage of limbs and elongated hands the
held a struggling Scytale as it moved away.  Its six legs were moving with a motion that crossed a
spider and a horse, towards a hole that breached the end of the axltol hall to the outside. 
     Scytale began to scream, but a cupped hand gagged off his cries as it inserted itself into and
around his mouth. 
     Teg raised his plasma weapon to fire, but the multicreature, with blinding reaction speed, 
exposed Scytale, positioning him between the possibility of plasma fire and itself. 
     If we so much as take aim, it watches our move and puts Scytale into the path of our
plasma fire. 
     Duncan thought to fire at the lighter outside_but the multicreature shifted Scytale again into the
line of fire.  Duncan and Teg were several strides behind it when it ran out through the sizzling hole in
the wall.  Once outside, it bolt with the speed of a horse at full stride towards the ship.  Before
Duncan or Teg could react, a second multicreature blocked the hole, and began to advance towards
them. 
     The two stopped in their tracks to fire at the monster, but over the crackle of plasma discharges
and the flailing of the creatures limbs, the thunder of the lighter_s engines roared.  Within moments,
this second multicreature was destroyed, and Duncan and Teg watched as the lighter lifted off and
disappeared from sight. 
     Sounds of plasma fire diminished as the other lighters lifted away.  Teg was commanding the
war-mules to keep one of the multicreatures alive, but Duncan thoughts were on Scytale. 
     They must have needed on one of us.  But where will they take you, Scytale, is a question I
hope you will be able to provide us with an answer. 

  
  
  I wondered what
                              we would find on
                              this hidden Dune,
                              especially what
                              became of the ghola
                              Muad_Dib.  Would
                              this world treat him
                              as a figurehead or
                              god, these
                              thousands of years
                              after his rebirth,
                              would he even
                              surpass or make
                              obsolete the idea of
                              the Kwitsatz
                              Haderach.  What
                              did I expect to find
                              here, a perfect
                              reproduction of
                              orthodox
                              Puritanism, a
                              retro-throwback  to
                              the degree of spice
                              harvesting and riding
                              of the sandworms. 
                                   -Memoirs of Jal
                                        Ampre.

        The encryption key pin was removed from Jal_s cranial socket and given over to the Master
Face Dancer, who wore the form of a Ixian no-ship pilot, before they entered the vessel. Duinain
forget she was Ixian, and the extent to which Ixian culture had propelled them since the mythic times
of the God Tyrant. 
        And to think there was once a Bulterian Jihad against such things.  Scholars will  Spice
Dream that time for centuries before any judgment can be made whether they were right or
not. 
        The other Master Face Dancers that accompanied them wore the faces of Jal_s Spice Dreamer
companions, and they entered the vessel as if this were all so routine.  The pilot took his place in
front of the metallic pivot-station that served as navigation control.  Jal watched his every move as
they entered the vessel, especially they location of the pin after he had programmed the No-ship_s
spacefolding construct. 
         Inside the breast pocket.  The one with the flap.  That pin is the most valued secret in
the universe right now. 
          Jal sat close to Duinain as the Ixian vessel began the foldspace process that would take them
to the Dune hidden since the Sheeana times. 
         These are still the Sheeana times. 
         Jal grabbed Duinian_s hand tightly, a gesture he thought of as affection.  As the foldspace
process commenced, he turned to read her facial expression. 
         Jal knows something that she is not telling. 
         As to moments slowed, the two entered into a subtle form of the Persona Sharing that was not
noticed by the Master Face Dancers present.  The two let thoughts pass between them, masked as
the stray thoughts of ordinary consciousness, but coded in the personal memories each had learned
to use as code in the private languages that perhaps only spies, thieves, and in this case lovers, learn
to use. 

         Duinain received her Thoughts, merely _overhearing_ what she had to Share: 

     Lai always hid things in the strangest places when we were girls.  We were left
     alone to play, Twin princesses.  Tiny places. 
      Then when she was Imperator, she had to contend with the likes of the
     extremists like 
      Nro.  Personas like his are never truly forgotten.  Threads. 
     Lai always won these games.  Why she_s the politician and I_m the dreamer.

         Duinain kept from thinking the connections, but felt the implications. 
         Threading a needle.  Nro Pathay not exactly gone.  

        Jal distracted him from his thoughts by asking a question. 
        "What I still can't figure out is why Tej-Chiani?" 
        "What do you mean?" Duinain did not quite follow her. 
        "Just that--if Chiani lived during the time of Muad'Dib, and Teg lived during the time of
Sheeana, thousands of years later, why have a Fish Speaker School based on their common
bloodline.  There never was a genepool precedent to begin with." 
        "Perhaps our friends the Master Face Dancers supplied the inspiration" 
        Jal was not satisfied. 
        It just doesn't follow.  Why this mix? 
  
         The faux-Ixian crew was taking positions for the exit from foldspace.  Jal kept her eyes on the
one who carried the encryption pin. 
        I guess our long kept secret worked.  Have to keep an eye on that own.  He is our key to
more than getting home. 
        As foldspace equalized into real space they came upon the Dune Revenant. The first things they
noticed were the five moons. 
         As in the Spice Dream. 

         One of the Master Face Dancers disguised as one of the younger Spice Dreamers, Hilia,
chose this moment to revert to a more neutral form.  His features filled and dampened, so that he
seemed more rounded.  Jal presumed this was perhaps learned behavior, a more relaxed state for
such a being. The mute featured one that was Hilia barked a quick command. 
         _Prepare for entry into the planets orbit._ 
        They had chosen a landing site outside of the populated areas, but close enough for the party to
quickly reach a place where we could find more information.  Their first order of business was
procuring stillsuits for the desert.   Jal contemplated the hasty plans the Master Face Dancers
seemed to enact. 
        They want us to blend in, in order to find Sheeana.  How do they know that Sheeana
won_t be the one finding us. 
        The stillsuits were easily procured.  A band of indigenous peoples were encountered inside of a
hour after landing.  Duinain noticed the resemblance between these peoples, who were traveling by
foot with a tall post and its horizontal flag, and peoples from ancient times. 
        Fremen.  And they carry the totem of a desert pilgrimage. 
        The elder of the group spoke first, "I am Amyn of the pilgrimage of Scia'aba.  What fools or
demons are hear in the deep desert without stillsuits." 
        The Master Face Dancers approached them while others guarded Jal and Duinain.  Before
Duinain realized what was going on to scream a warning, the Masters and slain the small band
quickly, in a blur of motion as if a swarm,  absorbing their Fremen knowledge and appearance.  The
one carrying the pin, took the role of the bands leader, who had been named Amyn. 
        _Quickly into these suits.  Keep the bodies, for we may need them for their water._ 
        Duinain knew it was foolish to resist wearing the stillsuits of these dead men.  His sense of
history made him realize he needed to go along with the Master Face Dancer_s plans. 
        _You are on the shore of a new sea._ 
        Duinain heard the voice, and he looked to Jal to see if she had heard it too. 
        That voice was Sheeana. 
                                   * * * * *
  Do the Bene Tleilax take on
                         Leto_s Golden Path?  Leto_s path
                         is of endless creation.  This is the
                         inverted Platonism, where the
                         truth is not in the ideal, but in the
                         created, the world made manifest
                         by the people who create it.  This
                         is the religion, the true faith.  The
                         science of Ghola becomes the
                         rebirth of Dune itself.  In a
                         Tleilaxu Universe, the role of
                         _nature_ changes.  We are no
                         longer under the spell of the
                         natural_which implies a walk
                         through the woods, but instead of
                         the manifest, how we each are
                         tied into the act of creation.  No
                         longer are we tossed by nature,
                         tied to the act of creation by mere
                         biologism.  Listen. 
                         For it is the sound of the artist of
                         being. 
                                   -Sheeana_s New Paths.

        Within the No-Ship of the Ones With Many Faces, Scytale was held captive in a status of
intermixed bodies.  He wondered what their agenda was, and would Duncan bother saving him. 
        They want me for some reason.  Did this all have something to do with the factions that
Duncan suspected_Do they want to study me as an extended individual?  To thwart their
own dissident factions.  Except for perhaps Duncan, I am the oldest singular personality. 

    The Ones with Many Faces had become agitated across the hive.  Scytale sensed somehow their
every thought as he was among them. 
    This faction wishes to explore the Individual to undermine its mystique.  They would have
like to have captured Duncan also I_m sure. 
        The individual was something they had lost touch with, something the Master Face Dancers
wished to preserve (perversely).  However_since they could no longer be individual, but they could
assume by touch all the personalities of an individual_they lost sight of what it meant to be an
individual. 
        There were no Individuals that they could study, know individual existed at the level they
needed.  That_s why they need the hyperindividual, an immortal.  Duncan and myself were
close to that. 
        Scytale thought to himself, but found himself saying the words aloud. 
        _They were gods_and they were looking for God.  You know not the idea of faith in
God._ 
        Scytale felt something shift across the base of his skull.  Then a quick spike of pain as
something pierced his skin by his spine. 
        They are probing me. Some organic version of the T-Probe. 
        He found his thoughts flowing out, as if he were daydreaming and someone was keeping
copious notes.  Scytale heard a voice come from inside his mind. 

        _Greetings.  Please refer to me as Thrynthl_ 

        He uses the name of an ancient Mentat, a Tleilaxu mythic name.  His accent, Strange
garbled. 

        Scytale_s thoughts raced faster than he could take hold of them. 
        The_ve blocked my brain_s ability to stop thinking.  I am along for the ride. 

        _Please do not resist the probe.  We who are the Ones With Many Faces only wish to
close off our origins, so that we may more open follow the wealth of paths through the eternal
chaos._ 

        Perhaps they were simple the next step in the progress of life to transform to this level.  Scytale
somehow found himself relaxing as the thoughts began to slip past his awareness. 

             Didn_t galaxies collide in so ominous a destruction that no semblance of
     their former shapes exist afterwards_only the nebula of shattered suns and a
     new central core of commingled gravities amassed obstinate to all permanence. 

             Damn the Tyrant God_.couldn_t we have discovered the nature of Duncan
     sooner_all those gholas_the set back was the breeding program_reflecting on
     our shared history..all our precautions and faith_how separate Duncan and I
     are.

        The Ones with Many Faces had taken memory down to a cellular consciousness and
beyond_they were transcending the limits of physical matter_and in the process they were arriving
on the opposite side of the bell curve_infinite consciousness moved toward the absence of
consciousness_or at least_a transformation.  They could revert at times to a group of separate
sub-entities_although they seldom did_that number in the quadrillions they often traveled in groups
of various numbers of pods_each pod made of several sub-groups.  The Ones With Many Faces
would survive and expand.  Scytale realized this even as the biologic T-probe continued its sweep of
his past. 

             The multilived personas always come back_the entity travels
     alone_Always, two, the current life and the lives that have gone_The image of
     a great worm with the face of Sheeana_Kull Wahad_the God the is both
     gendered_my faith even taunts me.  We were all hemmed in after all.  All of our
     grandiose schemes to push the limits of the Language of God, to make manifest
     the genetic grandeur in a body that was the ultimate worship has come to ruin. 
     The Tleilaxu from the Scattering have Returned,  yet they bring the true
     Integration_they have become..emerged as_the Ones With Many
     Faces_Horrific and Marvelous.  We never dreamed they would achieve so much
     so_

        The one calling himself Thrynthi was performing some kind of altered use of the biologic probe;
Scytale could almost feel it but he could quite grasp it.  All at once he realized that Thrynthi was
probing each of his multilives individually, seperating them and recombinding them in yet another
process. 

         Scytale shuddered as his years slowly unfolded under the commands of the Ones With Many
Faces. 

         We have all just become a bit obsolete. 

  

  
  The paths of the observer and
                         observed cross. 
                         The paths of human and
                         sandworm cross. 
                         The paths of the conscious cross. 
                         The future is now Shai-Hulud. 
                         The destiny of humanity is
                         Shaitian. 
                         The angel of melange carries its
                         message. 

                         That Shai-Hulud consumes me is
                         the fate of humanity. 
                         That the spice-dream holds its
                         secret and all secrets 
                          Is the fate of Shaitain. 
                         That the melange is the messenger
                         is the fate of all futures. 
                                   -Sheeana_s New Paths.

        In his third year among the sisters_the sexual impulses began to stir within the young Paul
ghola.  As Teg was closest in age to the Paul ghola physically, some six years his elder, Paul was
more apt to ask him about matters of sex.  Teg_s sexuality was a game he played with the younger
renegade sisters, and he even entertained a certain reluctant relationship with Amba. 
             "I have read in my histories that Jessica was the mate of Leto.   Are you and Amba mates
now." 
        Teg had been intimate with Amba soon after the capture of Scytale, several months before, but
by no means were they mates.  On this day, the day that Paul_s memories were to be awakened,
Paul had approached Teg on sexual matters he felt uncomfortable asking his mentor Duncan. 
        "What is the power that the Honored Matres have over men?  I mean, how does it work?" 
        This counseling occupied Teg with the  thought of his Atreides origins. 
        This is a new world, where bloodlines such as mine, Siona bloodlines, all Atreides, are
falling into oblivion. 
        _Sex is not a common thing boy.  It is not a toy, no matter what you see among Sheeana_s
sisters, or rumors you hear about the powers of the Honored Matres.  Talk to Mother Rebecca, I_m
sure she_ll give you an earfull._ 
        Paul thought for a moment.  _Duncan always speaks of training, of combat, of Mentat skills. 
Yet he never speaks of his bond with Murbella._ 
        Duncan was not a easy topic_his sexual co-enthrallment with Murbella made him a strange
choice for an adolescent's advice. 
        Paul asks now, but soon he will remember all as Muad_Dib.  As I was na¯ve before
Duncan made me aware of my past life.  Your only answer is silence today boy, for the truth
will come all too soon. 
        Teg pondered the time honored traditions of family names.  Harkonnen.  Atreides. Corrino. 
        _This is a coin that no longer trades._ 
        This was the dawn of a new age, where key personas began to outweigh the collective path. 
Of course Paul, and Leto, and Siona_all Atreides_and all their genes were the propagation of
their uniqueness. 
        But their status as individuals?  It_s just that humanity itself has invested in this family_s
success. 

        By now, Sheeana and her sisters, the Rabbi_s party, Teg, Duncan, and Paul had all settled in
the Tleilaxu seitch, built for them alone to serve the Tleilaxu faith.  It would be here that Paul_s other
memories would be awakened. It would be here that Paul would drink the water of life. 
        The seitch was becoming a working copy of Seitch Tabr, complete with new ghola additions
produced by the Tleilaxu on the Novo Tleilax moon, called L_Katib amoung those gholas speaking
the Fremen tongue. 
        Teg noticed that all the gholas seemed young, non aged beyond adolescence. 
        Why keep them at this age?  Surely the Tleilaxu could age the gholas to an exact preset
age, especially with their new new T-probe enhanced axlotl tanks. 
        Teg took special notice in a Fremen ghola woman. She was wearing a traditional stillsuit,
walking with several other Fremen gholas. 
        As Teg watched her, realized who the ghola was, his blood warmed perhaps as it had before
only in battle. 
        This ghola is Chiani!  The beloved wife of Paul. 
        Teg was no longer the younger ghola of his former self.  He was no longer the father of his
children or the husband of his long dead wife.  He was no longer the general who was now spending
a second life in service to a style of humanity he saw fit to fight to protect.  As the Chiani ghola
walked past, Miles Teg was simply a man. 
        She is beautiful. 
        Teg felt strange that the ghola Paul took no notice of this new batch of gholas. 
         She is not Chiani to him yet. 

  
  
  Did not Mua'Dib come to show
                         that universe belonged to the
                         Fremen.  And at what price did
                         the Fremen drink from the cup of
                         His Elixir of Life.   And did not
                         the Tyrant-God Guldur show that
                         Fremen soul could be lost if we
                         strayed off of His Golden Path. 
                         As water was once scarce, so
                         was Dune scarce.  And Sia'aba
                         has come to show the Fremen
                         that on Her New Paths, Dune
                         itself is no longer scarce, but rains
                         upon the universe. 
                           
                                 -from the Book of Sia'aba.

  

        The streets were littered with a scattering of peoples.  The smells were overwhelming to
Duinain and Jal, but soon  they acclimated to the odors. The smells changed from those of filth to the
local air.  Throughout their march into this Fremen village the Master Face Dancers were their
constant companions. They mimiced these Fremen-like people exactly, and even offered Duinain
and Jal types of common greetings, ways to speak the dialect, and how to carry themselves in a way
that would make them seem more natural. 

        Jal remembered something the Old Fremen had said before the Master Faces Dancers killed
him and wore his form. 

        _We come from the Pilgrimage of Sia_aba_ 

        Sia_aba is Sheeana. 

        They met with little assistance to finding Sheeana.  Although many were familiar with the name
Sia_aba, many spoke of her has if she as common as a Crucifix would have been to a Terran
Christian.   Few regarded her as real, and many would rant about Shaitain  stealing their soul or
mumur of their village destroyed by Shai-Hulud. Most scurried away or turned to a chant of a
derivation of the ancient Islamizt tounge born anew on this world. 

        They stopped at vendor of foodstuffs, cooked in plain view while the patrons sat beneath tents
that sheilded them from the sun_s hot rays.  Jal noticed the heat source to be one she was unfamliar
with, a small glowing diadem beneath each cooking vessel, surrounded by a web of what looked to
be a dozen centraly focused tiny mirrors. 

        They use the Sun to superheat some type of crystal.  But it can_t be diamonite, it wouldn_t hold
crytaline structure for more than a few uses.  And how would they make it cheaply? 

        _Strangers are welcomed here always.  Our Duncan told us ones as you would be presenting
soon._ 
The server reached out both his hands in a sort of greeting, and Jal returned the gesture, embracing
each hand to each. 

        The dialect is strange, but he is speaking our language.  _Ones as you_ ? Are we so
different to what they_ve become. 

        Duinain also returned the double handshake, and spoke to their host. 

        _May we meet the one you call Duncan?_ 

        _Of course you may.   But first it is the time for you to join us to eat.  Then we will take you to
the Duncan._ 

        The food was a spice Harayra, served with a flat bread.  The dal-like stew was spiced with
what could only be Melange and something hot, but the dish was served with a dollop of a paste
made from sweet dry fruits.  One could mix in the sweet to counter the hot of the spices, without
having to drink much water.   After eating, Duinain was eager to find the Duncan they spoke of. 

        "Can you take us to the Duncan now, I would like for him to see us." 

        "He cannot see you, for he is blind, but he will see more of you than most.  He can see what
you think with those metal eyes of his." 

        Metal Eyes.  Like the Duncan's from the Idah-Hayt Schools. 

        Before long, they had a new guide to take them to this Duncan with metal eyes.  Only one of
the Master Face Dancers accompanied them, the others descreately excusing themselves from the
party. 

        After a short walk past the open sietches they were before the Duncan.  And the guide was
instructed by the Duncan to be left alone with Duinain and Jal. 

    His metal eyes glared at Jal and Duinain.  He was the ghola of Duncan with the metal eyes.  He
held a pack of Dune Tarot cards as he sat upon the Fremen spice rug that was woven with the
particular designs. 

    The night had come instantly, and the two inner rapid moons had risen to mid sky in a matter of
moments, while far overhead the large moon al-akrab shone full at the skies zenith. 

    The Duncan spoke _Sia_aba awaits your coming.  Please sit to await the fate of your reading_ 

    Jal assumed he meant a reading of the Dune tarot, and asked how he knew that they would need
a reading. 

    _The reading will come soon, but first we must await the proper moment.  Somewhere, the Again
Muad_Dib begins his spice voyage.  We await this awakening that is already long past._ 

    Duinain thought to himself: 
    Does he spice dream the past?  Does he await some synergy from some mystical moment
past to amplify his reading.  What aspect of Dunacn_s Net has this ghola discover, and how
has he learned to measure the pulses of its reoccurances to tap into its powers. 

    _Somewhere Sia_aba dreams the first of all  Fremen to ingest the spice._ 

    Jal had the urge to drop into a Spice Dream, to scope the Again Muad_Dib_s first ingestion of the
Water of Life. 

    The Duncan answered her unspoken desire _Sia_aba agrees that you should learn about that time. 
But she asks that you look not at the events but at something else._  At this moment the metal eyed
Duncan dew a card from his tarot deck and placed it face up.  The card was the Wanderer.  _The
Wanderer carries a bundle, but knows not what the bundle contains.  So should you carry all you
see, but walk no fixed path._ 

     By now Duinain and Jal had taken their places, seated in front of  the Duncan, on the spice
carpet.  And Jal dipped into the throes of the spice dream. 
http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Oracle/6237/contents.html

     This  page is dedicated to Frank Herbert's best known series of books,
the  Dune  Cronicles.  As fans of Dune know, Herbert wrote six books before
his death. However, there has been much speculation about whether or not he
would have written a seventh Dune book. This page is dedicated to exploring
some  of the possible themes that this seventh book may have covered in the
form  of  an online novel. Roughly carved out paths exploring the future of
Dune  are  what  drives Dune Revenant. Thanks for reading, and feel free to
email IXIAN2000 with your questions and comments. Why a 7th Dune Book? What
happened  to Duncan Idaho? Who are the Master Face Dancers? Check back here
soon for more updates.

     October  06,  Have  been  doing some maintenance to the page. Set up a
second  page  of  table of contents and the notes for chapter sixteen. I've
rewritten parts of Chapter's 3,4,6,7 but they aren't out online just yet.

     T_writes.

     Great Story.... I think I like the story line alot better than Chapter
House. I started reading it on a whim at work and did not stop til I got to
chapter 15.... now I have to wait.

     K_also asks.

     Hi.  I  was  wondering  if  you  were  planing  on  making  your story
downloadable  in  say  one big text file? I just think this would make it a
lot easier for people to enjoy your story.

     I'll think about working on a link to a simple text version, where the
whole text could be downloaded. But maybe in exchange I could get an editor
out of this deal?

     Sept  01,  After  several  weeks  being  offline,  your  online author
IXIAN2000  has  returned  with  Chapters  Thirteen,  Fourteen, and Fifteen.
There's  more  to come with these three. Also, half of Chapter Two has been
expanded.  I  plan to go back over each chapter and expand what I feel I've
glossed over. Thanks, and remember, your comments are appreciated.

     Aug  10,  I  have been rewriting some of the earlier chapters. Chapter
One has been reworked and is now more filled in.

     July 25, Chapter Twelve.
     July 15, Chapter Eleven.

            R_ writes.

     ...I always wanted to see the Ixians develop a machine or android like
a  Face  Dancer. After they build an Ixian probe the mechanical Face Dancer
could copy the memories as well.

     July  10,  A  major overhaul to Dune Revenant site. Visit the old home
page here

     July 7, Controversy strikes Dune Revenant. S_ writes:

     Can  we  all  agree  not  to  call this new Dune website the 7th book?
Personally  I  would like it if we could agree not to call it Dune Revnant.
But  seeing  how  that is the title the writer chose, I guess it is sort of
out  of the question. Let me make my case. I honestly do not know who wrote
this fiction, I haven't even read it, so under no circumstances do not take
this  as  a  review. It is not a review and is not to be confused with one.
This  piece  of  Fan Fiction could be one of the most wonderful pieces ever
written,  and  I  wouldn't  know.  But as long as it wasn't penned by Frank
Herbert  (or  grudgingly  by  little boy Brian Herbert, author of many fine
children  novels like Young Jedi) it is not part of the Dune Chronicles. It
is  also  not part of the Dune Universe. So it cannot be the 7th Dune book.
Now  I  enjoy  penning the occasional short story. Sometimes they are good,
sometimes  they  suck  eggs.  Sometimes  more so than others. But just like
Frank  has  his  own  distinct  style of writing, so do I. There is nothing
wrong at all with Fan Fiction. Lets face it, immitation is the most sincere
form of flattery. That and large bills shoved in your pants. But I degress.
Fan  Fiction  is  wonderful, and for this reason I have no problem with the
story. Even if it does suck. I wouldn't have any problem with you writing a
piece  of  Fan Fiction from one of my pieces. But you better mark it as so.
God  help  you, there better be absolutly no way someone might think that I
had  your  ideas  in  mind when I did my work. Or worse yet that they might
think that your work is my work. That is insulting to both of us, no matter
the  quality  of the writing. This makes my problem with calling it the 7th
Dune  book  rather  obvious.  So what is my problem with Dune Revnant then?
Simple.  ChapterHouse:  Dune, Dune Messiah, Dune Revnant. They are much too
similar. I really couldn't blame someone if they confused Dune Revnant with
an  actual  Dune  Book.  If  he  would simply call it something like, 'Dune
Revnant (FF)' I think I would be happy.

     In reply, H_ Writes:

     I *did* read the first chaper; although not sufficiently enthralled to
read  the  others...yet.  (Insomnia  and boredom make for some occasionally
tres  weird reading & watching material!! :-). However, I, too, do NOT like
calling it *The* 7th Book. "The 7th Book," as it were, albeit non-existent,
is  a  mythos  that  belongs to FH, his fans, and no one else, in a sort of
oddball  sense.  Every  single  reader  of the Chronicles (actually, I like
Thomas  Detoux's  "Chrinicles,"  doesn't  it  make  you  smile? No offense,
Thomas...I  mean it!!) has finished Ch:D, either thrown the book across the
room  or  been  tempted  to,  cogitated  (thought,  for  non-English cradle
language  folks)  upon  the ending, and then...immediately...their thoughts
turn  to  the  mythology of the 7th book, without even knowing that it IS a
mythos. Because, of course, HECK, there MUST have been one planned!!!! :-)

     So,  I, too, am not ecstatic about calling it *either* "The 7th Book,"
OR  "Dune  Revenant."  (And,  having not read the ensuant chapters, I'm not
sure  that  "revenant"  is  the appropriate term, anyhow). How about we all
settle  on  calling it nothing more than "Revenant," or some other suitable
term?  I  concur  that  the current name *implies,* or allows the reader to
infer,  that  it  is somehow affiliated with, authorized by, from the notes
of:  FH.  This is not to disparage the work; clearly, someone labored hard.
Just my thoughts.

     IXIAN2000 writes a worried response:

     Hello  everyone.  I  have  read recent posts and I am both pleased and
shocked. This DUNE REVENANT project was only a way to explore the future of
FH  universe.  I  never  new  that  even fan fiction would fall prey to the
politics  that  blemish the science fiction industry. Nevertheless, I would
not want readers of my online writing, rough and unreadable as it is, to be
confused with the real thing. For this reason, I will make major changes to
the  online  work  in progress, along the lines of suggestions made by S___
and  H__h.  I will no longer call it "the seventh Dune Book", but something
more  along the lines of ""a" seventh dune book". I might even rename it to
REVENANT, a dune fan fiction online, if only I could wait until H___h reads
the  finished  piece(I  won't  hold  my  breath if you don't hold yours) to
assure  him  that I know what the word means:) Thanks to Gunnar for reading
the fine print in support of the obvious:)

     Perhaps a bit about me, eh? The project has been quite interesting, as
it  is  my  attempt  to  pull together lots of different things online. The
online  aspect  of  writing keeps me interested in the project, and I would
challenge  the critics of the roughness of the writing to try it themselves
in  this  fashion.  The  fact  that people read and send emails to the page
inspire  the continuation of the project. Although alt.fan.dune is the only
newsgroup  I  suscribe  to,  I  wished  to  explore  the Dune universe in a
different way.

     Samuel  Beckett  once  criticised  William Burroughs clipping style of
writing  (a  phase  Burroughs  went  through  in  which he 'wrote' books by
clipping  phrases  from  other  peoples  writing,  a  glued them together).
Burroughs  defended  himself by saying "Don't physicists steal the theories
and formulae of other physicists?" My point is - don't sell something short
before  you  have  an  idea of where the person is coming from. Critics are
like  lawyers,  read  FH  on  this  subject and you'll see what I mean. The
rework is yet to come.

     Apologies  are  in  order.  My page is a bit clunky when run on slower
machines or older browsers. I'm also just getting the hang of that. I'll be
working on the new version this evening.

     Finally,  please  feel  free  to offer suggestions to the page, to the
writing,  the plot. I would appreciate this because in the end, I'm writing
this  for  people who enjoy Frank Herbert's universe, as a tribute of sorts
to his superb series of books. Feel free to send an email or post.

     IXIAN2000

     Quem te deus esse Jussit, et humana qua parte locatus es in re, Disce.
                        PERSIUS, Satires, iii. 71
     *****
     Barbarus hic ego sum, qui non intelligor illis.

                        OVID.

             (all the above as quoted by JJ Rousseau)

June 25, Chapter Nine and Ten half complete.  HH writes:

     :-):  I  just  started  rereading  COD,  and  I  noticed, FH drags the
chapters out a bit, not revealling right away what happens next, keeping us
allways  really  excited about what's going to happen. My impression of the
Dune  Revenant  is that it's pouring out information, not letting us get to
know  the characters by telling us little details, like how they experience
the  landscape  (which  was  one  thing  I really enjoyed in the first Dune
books).  The  last few lines of chapter 8, though, are letting us in on the
characters,  but  only with a few lines. But then, it might just be me, I'm
no  critic of litterature (nor is English my mother tongue :-). But keep up
the  good  work,  you're doing a really good job. Don't bring yourself down
because  BH  and  KJA have the "rights" to the Duniverse, I think there are
many of us who back you up.

IXIAN200 replies:

     Thanks  for  reading...  I  feel  it's fun to have people read the raw
stuff  as  I  go  along. It also keeps me interested enough in this project
(given  that  the  powers  that be will never have this version published).
Once  I get the plot nailed down, believe me that I will be going back over
this  work  a few more times to draw out the characters. The characters are
actually  well  developed  form  notes,  but  a note is not always the best
writting for a novel. In time, I hope to bring all of this together.

June 7, 1998: Chapter Eight arrives. Paul Atreides writes:

     I  like  what  you've done so far, this really seems to be a direction
Frank Hubert would've taken. I just have two questiions, one: is there just
one person or a group of people writing this novel. It's very complex. Two:
when is chapter eight due?

     IXIAN2000 replies:

     There  is only one author, although I have been known to be influenced
by  Dune  Revenant  readers.  The  plot  is  quite  complex,  and I have to
apologize  for  the  rough  manner  of its publication. I've been trying to
get  a working text from two large notebooks of notes. This being the case,
I  often go back and edit the older chapters. I'm working on chapters eight
and  nine now (which feature Jal and Duinain in eight, and a glimpse at the
Ones  With  Many  Faces in nine). I've also gone ahead and re-organized the
way  the  previous chapters flow together. I hope to have a working copy of
the  text by the end of this year. Thanks for reading, and feel free to ask
questions or make any suggestions.

     May  23,  1998:  Chapter  Seven.  Rewriting of pieces of chapters two,
three,  and  four. Changed the order of some of the events to smooth things
out.
     May  17, 1998: Chapter 6 has arrived. IXIAN2000 has also gone back and
made some corrections to 1,2,3.

May 16, 1998: Here's some criticism of Dune Revenant:

     I would like to both thank and congradulate you for such a wonder full
web-site.It  is  clear  to see that you have been influenced and appreciate
the  Dune  series i much as I have.However I don't agree with your analysis
on  a  7th book,as well as the progression of the Dune"Epic". In the second
book it is clear the Scytale(Then Face Dancer)clearly had a "Ghola" project
of  his  own  in mind.In the first chapter it is clear at the meeting with;
Princess   Irulan,Reverend  Mother  Gaius  Helen,Edric,and  Scytale.Scytale
thinks  'When  this is done we will be the only one with a Kwisatz haderach
we  can control the others will possess nothing"This is taken into the fact
that,they  had  already  built  a previous one. Needless to say, Duncan has
been  the  central  figure  in  4  of the sequels (Dune Messiah,Heterics of
Dune,God Emperor of Dune, Chapterhouse:Dune.
     The basic theme of Dune through the whole series is evolution.It shows
science  as  religion  and  religion  as  science.Each interlocking paradox
continues  to  confront  the  other.Only  to  find  that,those  are  Merely
perspectives.Survival.That  is  all.Chaperhouse  left  a  broad  breach for
imagination.As  for the Bene Gesserit and Honored Maters.Hybridization is a
simplistic  view of what is intended there.Through out the series There has
always  been "Other sisterhoods"present in the series.The Honored Mater did
Not  "Start"  with  fish  speakers  and  Reverend  Mothers(In  Extremis).In
fact,the  fish  Speaker  began  with  Alia.Her Amazon Guard(Only refered to
vaugely  ,but  there nonetheless){Zia} not only fit the phyiscal Attributes
of  the  Fish  Speakers{Friend/Nayla},as well as Honored Matre[Materly].The
Hybridization  was  already  in  full  swing.In Heterics,Sirfa seemed to be
familar  with  (like self compairing) ways similar to the Bene Gesserit.Not
to  mention  that Reverend Mother Lucilla had noticed this herself.Then the
other  discovery  made;Honored  Maters were not all "Humans".On junction RM
Lucilla,and  Lampadas horde found "Dama" "Not human"After the Great Honored
Matre  Stated "There is no such thing as human compassion"Then there is the
fact  that  ,the returned Tleiaxu said"Honored are much worse than the Bene
Gesserit Reverend Mothers".A statement like this could only be made if they
had contact with a Reverend Mother.One from the scattering.
     Which  gives  to my point.That Bene Gesserit ways were not only common
place  in  the  Universe  at  the  time.it  was  also  an inheritence.Siona
blood.which unites most the the people at the time of Chapterhouse(not just
the   Bene  Gesserit,as  the  Rabbi  points  out,and  Murbella  proves.Tegs
experience  with  the  same  T-probes  that  Honored  Maters  also use as a
Hypno-litigation  alternitive  proves  the  is  a Change in the Basic human
structure that we first seen In God Emperor.
     This  are  just my views and ideas. I am a true Believer in the Golden
Path(The  surival of Humans in all times and places)So much that I am now a
Anthropology Major.If there is a Bene Gesserit I would like to be a part of
such noble purpose.If you know other that are involved or interested,please
let  me  know.I  am a dune fan.But Dune is Fantasy,the"basic principals" of
the BG are human concepts that all humans see.

     To which IXIAN2000 replied:

     Thanks  for  the  thoughts  and  insights  in  your email. I'd like to
address  the  general  feel of what you have written, because it is hard to
disagree  with the examples and directions you've listed. I'd prefer to use
this  email  as  a chance to air a few ideas I have along the lines of your
comments.
     One  thing I've realized from Frank Herberts writing is you never know
exactly  how  he  feels about a character. I myself have always thought the
idea  of  the  Bene Gesserit was the coolest thing in the world. But I also
couldn't  help  hearing  Herbert's  criticism  of  them through Leto in God
Emperor,  or  even  through characters such as Duncan and Teg. I myself had
the  intentions  of writing a book about the evolution so well described by
Herbert through the Dune books.
     I  remember reading (I'm not sure if it was in Dune or in an Interview
with  Herbert)  about  how  humans didn't have a multigenerational sense of
their  environment.  We might remember a cold season when we were kids, but
we  can't  feel  the  kind  of  trends  that  span  generations. We turn to
history  to  record  these things for us, and at best, this is nowhere near
the kind of 'knowing' that the Bene Gesserit or Leto have a grasp on.
     If  only  our  sense  of  history  could remain constant. This idea of
holding  history together fuelled the historians of the nineteenth century,
as well as providing Marx with his decentering of history. Anthropology and
Humanism  stand  as  two  monoliths  that  would  resist  any  attempts  at
decentering.  In  some  ways,  The Golden Path, is Herbert's way of keeping
together  the  tradition  of  humanism, a safeguarding of the kind of being
that  we  humans  know  and  desire.  In  a way, anthropology is the way we
discover  the  message of humanism, in a way that no other field adequately
does.  Philosophy  may  have ideas about our humanity, but anthropology has
been  grounding  philosophy  since  Kant  with  its continued attention the
reality  of  what humans do, how we are human, and what our humanity brings
to fruition.
     What  I'm about to say next is just a kind of 'fantasy' that an author
is allowed to indulge in, however, I'd hope you read this as a critique and
not  as an attack upon your field of study :) We don't know each other, but
your email was candid enough with me that I'll return with equal honesty :)
Ok enough walking on eggshells, here goes:
     What  if the sleep we must awaken from is Anthropology itself. A sleep
so  deep that the Bene Gesserit never noticed. Through all there vigilance,
through  all  there  attention  to  the  role of humanity, that they missed
something.  I always thought it was strange that there were never aliens in
the  Dune  series  until  I  realized  that the humans were becoming aliens
themselves.  Throughout  the series, we are given examples of the limits of
humanity,  and this limit implies an end of humanity. Leto was fashioning a
way  that  gave  humanity  more  time  to prepare for something more, and I
realize  this  is  only  one  way to interpret this (I always saw Duncan as
Leto's favorite sculpture of humanity)
     My  lumping  together  of the Bene Gesserit and the Honored Matres was
not  an  easy  thing  to  do, for the sisterhoods would always preserve the
tradition of the human. However, even great intentions of the Bene Gesserit
as  guardians  of  humanity  were subject to some inhuman dealings with the
Tleilaxu  and their redefintion of the tradition of biologism. With such an
element  present,  I didn't think it would be very long before the paradigm
of  'human'  would  need  to  be  rewritten.  What I wanted to address with
Sheeana  (I  writing  a  chapter  about  her now) was that her sense of the
sisterhood  combined  with  her inheritance from Leto could propel her on a
path  like  no other. Just as you said there were many sisterhoods, Sheeana
might  perceive  many  New  Paths.  The  Golden  Path could be the one that
continues  the  grand  tradition  of humanism and molds the kind of society
that would let the humans flourish. But we would need Other Paths for those
who  might step outside of this framework (maybe like the face dancers from
the end of Chapterhouse)
     I'll leave you with an interesting quote from Foucault:

     "...the  end of philosophy, the end of man, for its part is the return
of  the  beginning  of philosophy. It is no longer possible to think in our
day  other than in the void left by man's disappearance. For this void does
not  create  a  deficiency;  it  does  not constitute a lacuna that must be
filled. It is nothing more, and nothing less, than the unfolding of a space
in which it is once more possible to think."
     "For  all  those  who still wish to talk about man, about his reign or
his  liberation, to all those who still ask themselves questions about what
man  is  in  his  essence,  to  all  those  who  wish  to take him as their
starting-point  in  their attempts to reach the truth, to all those who, on
the  other  hand,  refer all knowledge back to the truth of man himself, to
all  those  who refuse to formalize without anthropologizing, who refuse to
mythologize  without  demystifying, who refuse to think without immediately
thinking  that  it  is man who is thinking, to all these warped and twisted
forms  of  reflection  we can only answer with a philosophical laugh--which
means, to a certain extent, a silent one."

May 7, 1998: Chapters 3,4,5 are out.

     OrLok  sponsors the Dune Revenant Text with links to this page. Thanks
OrLok.      Visit     OrLok's     comprehensive     Dune     page     here:
http://www.cerbernet.co.uk/orlok/

April 15, 1998: postive feedback is always helps:

     I  must  admit,  I really like what I have read so far. Please keep up
the good work!

     April  11, 1998 update: Even rougher version of Chapter Two out on the
Web.

     April  10, 1998. Here is some feed back from a reader of the page both
positive and negative:

     *  The  view  you  give  from the future is great! Good thinking: From
Scattering  to  Integration.  *  Is your whole store written in the form of
Spice  Dreams?  I  think  this makes it hard to write a strong plot. * What
is  the  plot  of  your story? I ask you this, because so far, I do not see
much  plot. Would the story also be interesting to read, without having the
forknowledge of the previous books?

     April 5, 1998 update: Chapter One is now out on the page. IXIAN200 has
decided  to  publish online the first of many rough-draft chapters, as they
are from the notes of IXIAN2000.

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