沙丘2

CHAPTER 12

Over the exit of the Arrakeen landing field, crudely carved as though with a poor instrument, there was an inscription that Muad‘Dib was to repeat many times. He saw it that first night on Arrakis, having been brought to the ducal command post to participate in his father’s first full staff conference.

The words of the inscription were a plea to those leaving Arrakis, but they fell with dark import on the eyes of a boy who had just escaped a close brush with death. They said: “O you who know what we suffer here, do not forget us in your prayers,”

—from “Manual of Muad’Dib”by thePrincess Irulan

“THE WHOLE theory of warfare is calculated risk,”the Duke said, “but when it comes to risking your own family, the element of calculation gets submerged in … other things.” He knew he wasn’t holding in his anger as well as he should, and he turned, strode down the length of the long table and back.

The Duke and Paul were alone in the conference room at the landing field. It was an empty-sounding room, furnished only with the long table, old-fashioned three-legged chairs around it, and a map board and projector at one end. Paul sat at the table near the map board. He had told his father the experience with the hunter-seeker and given the reports that a traitor threatened him.

The Duke stopped across from Paul, pounded the table: “Hawat told me that house was secure!” Paul spoke hesitantly: “I was angry, too—at first. And I blamed Hawat. But the threat came from outside the house. It was simple, clever, and direct. And it would’ve succeeded were it not for the training given me by you and many others—including Hawat.”

“Are you defending him?”the Duke demanded.

“Yes.”

“He’s getting old. That’s it. He should be—”

“He’s wise with much experience,”Paul said. “How many of Hawat’s mistakes can you recall?”

“I should be the one defending him,”the Duke said. “Not you.” Paul smiled.

Leto sat down at the head of the table, put a hand over his son’s. “You’ve … matured lately, Son.”He lifted his hand. “It gladdens me.”He matched his son’s smile. “Hawat will punish himself. He’ll direct more anger against himself over this than both of us together could pour on him.” Paul glanced toward the darkened windows beyond the map board, looked at the night’s blackness. Room lights reflected from a balcony railing out there. He saw movement and recognized the shape of a guard in Atreides uniform. Paul looked back at the white wall behind his father, then down to the shiny surface of the table, seeing his own hands clenched into fists there.

The door opposite the Duke banged open. Thufir Hawat strode through it looking older and more leathery than ever. He paced down the length of the table, stopped at attention facing Leto.

“My Lord,”he said, speaking to a point over Leto’s head, “I have just learned how I failed you. It becomes necessary that I tender my resig—”

“Oh, sit down and stop acting the fool,”the Duke said. He waved to the chair across from Paul. “If you made a mistake, it was in overestimating the Harkonnens. Their simple minds came up with a simple trick. We didn’t count on simple tricks. And my son has been at great pains to point out to me that he came through this largely because of your training. You didn’t fail there!”He tapped the back of the empty chair. “Sit down, I say!” Hawat sank into the chair. “But—”

“I’ll hear no more of it,”the Duke said. “The incident is past. We have more pressing business. Where are the others?”

“I asked them to wait outside while I—”

“Call them in.” Hawat looked into Leto’s eyes. “Sire, I—”

“I know who my true friends are, Thufir,”the Duke said. “Call in the men.” Hawat swallowed. “At once, my Lord.”He swiveled in the chair, called to the open door: “Gurney, bring them in.” Halleck led the file of men into the room, the staff officers looking grimly serious followed by the younger aides and specialists, an air of eagerness among them. Brief scuffing sounds echoed around the room as the men took seats. A faint smell of rachag stimulant wafted down the table.

“There’s coffee for those who want it,”the Duke said.

He looked over his men, thinking: They’re a good crew. A man could do far worse for this kind of war. He waited while coffee was brought in from the adjoining room and served, noting the tiredness in some of the faces.

Presently, he put on his mask of quiet efficiency, stood up and commanded their attention with a knuckle rap against the table.

“Well, gentlemen,”he said, “our civilization appears to’ve fallen so deeply into the habit of invasion that we cannot even obey a simple order of the Imperium without the old ways cropping up.” Dry chuckles sounded around the table, and Paul realized that his father had said the precisely correct thing in precisely the correct tone to lift the mood here.

Even the hint of fatigue in his voice was right.

“I think first we’d better learn if Thufir has anything to add to his report on the Fremen,”the Duke said. “Thufir?” Hawat glanced up. “I’ve some economic matters to go into after my general report, Sire, but I can say now that the Fremen appear more and more to be the allies we need. They’re waiting now to see if they can trust us, but they appear to be dealing openly. They’ve sent us a gift—stillsuits of their own manufacture … maps of certain desert areas surrounding strongpoints the Harkonnens left behind….”He glanced down at the table.“Their intelligence reports have proved completely reliable and have helped us considerably in our dealings with the Judge of the Change. They’ve also sent some incidental things—jewelry for the Lady Jessica, spice liquor, candy, medicinals. My men are processing the lot right now. There appears to be no trickery.”

“You like these people, Thufir?”asked a man down the table.

Hawat turned to face his questioner. “Duncan Idaho says they’re to be admired.” Paul glanced at his father, back to Hawat, ventured a question: “Have you any new information on how many Fremen there are?” Hawat looked at Paul. “From food processing and other evidence, Idaho estimates the cave complex he visited consisted of some ten thousand people, all told. Their leader said he ruled a sietch of two thousand hearths. We’ve reason to believe there are a great many such sietch communities. All seem to give their allegiance to someone called Liet.”

“That’s something new,”Leto said.

“It could be an error on my part, Sire. There are things to suggest this Liet may be a local diety.” Another man down the table cleared his throat, asked: “Is it certain they deal with the smugglers?”

“A smuggler caravan left this sietch while Idaho was there, carrying a heavy load of spice. They used pack beasts and indicated they faced an eighteen-day journey.” “It appears,”the Duke said, “that the smugglers have redoubled their operations during this period of unrest. This deserves some careful thought. We shouldn’t worry too much about unlicensed frigates working off our planet—it’s always done. But to have them completely outside our observation—that’s not good.”

“You have a plan, Sire,”Hawat asked.

The Duke looked at Halleck. “Gurney, I want you to head a delegation, an embassy if you will, to contact these romantic businessmen. Tell them I’ll ignore their operations as long as they give me a ducal tithe. Hawat here estimates that graft and extra fighting men heretofore required in their operations have been costing them four times that amount.”

“What if the Emperor gets wind of this?”Halleck asked. “He’s very jealous of his CHOAM profits, m’Lord.” Leto smiled. “We’ll bank the entire tithe openly in the name of Shaddam IV and deduct it legally from our levy support costs. Let the Harkonnens fight that! And we’ll be ruining a few more of the locals who grew fat under the Harkonnen system. No more graft!” A grin twisted Halleck’s face. “Ahh, m’Lord, a beautiful low blow. Would that I could see the Baron’s face when he learns of this.” The Duke turned to Hawat. “Thufir, did you get those account books you said you could buy?”

“Yes, my Lord. They’re being examined in detail even now. I’ve skimmed them, though, and can give a first approximation.”

“Give it, then.”

“The Harkonnens took ten billion solaris out of here every three hundred and thirty Standard days.” A muted gasp ran around the table. Even the younger aides, who had been betraying some boredom, sat up straighter and exchanged wide-eyed looks.

Halleck murmured: “‘For they shall suck of the abundance of the seas and of the treasure hid in the sand.’ ”

“You see, gentlemen,”Leto said. “Is there anyone here so naive he believes the Harkonnens have quietly packed up and walked away from all this merely because the Emperor ordered it?” There was a general shaking of heads, murmurous agreement.

“We will have to take it at the point of the sword,”Leto said. He turned to Hawat. “This’d be a good point to report on equipment. How many sandcrawlers, harvesters, spice factories, and supporting equipment have they left us?”

“A full complement, as it says in the Imperial inventory audited by the Judge of the Change, my Lord,”Hawat said. He gestured for an aide to pass him a folder, opened the folder on the table in front of him. “They neglect to mention that less than half the crawlers are operable, that only about a third have carryalls to fly them to spice sands—that everything the Harkonnens left us is ready to break down and fall apart. We’ll be lucky to get half the equipment into operation and luckier yet if a fourth of it’s still working six months from now.”

“Pretty much as we expected,”Leto said. “What’s the firm estimate on basic equipment?” Hawat glanced at his folder. “About nine hundred and thirty harvesterfactories that can be sent out in a few days. About sixty-two hundred and fifty ornithopters for survey, scouting, and weather observation … carryalls, a little under a thousand.” Halleck said: “Wouldn’t it be cheaper to reopen negotiations with the Guild for permission to orbit a frigate as a weather satellite?” The Duke looked at Hawat. “Nothing new there, eh, Thufir?”

“We must pursue other avenues for now,”Hawat said. “The Guild agent wasn’t really negotiating with us. He was merely making it plain—one Mentat to another—that the price was out of our reach and would remain so no matter how long a reach we develop. Our task is to find out why before we approach him again.” One of Halleck’s aides down the table swiveled in his chair, snapped: “There’s no justice in this!”

“Justice?”The Duke looked at the man. “Who asks for justice? We make our own justice. We make it here on Arrakis—win or die. Do you regret casting your lot with us, sir?” The man stared at the Duke, then: “No, Sire. You couldn’t turn and I could do nought but follow you. Forgive the outburst, but….”He shrugged. “… we must all feel bitter at times.”

“Bitterness I understand,”the Duke said. “But let us not rail about justice as long as we have arms and the freedom to use them. Do any of the rest of you harbor bitterness? If so, let it out. This is friendly council where any man may speak his mind.” Halleck stirred, said: “I think what rankles, Sire, is that we’ve had no volunteers from the other Great Houses. They address you as ‘Leto the Just’ and promise eternal friendship, but only as long as it doesn’t cost them anything.”

“They don’t know yet who’s going to win this exchange,”the Duke said.

“Most of the Houses have grown fat by taking few risks. One cannot truly blame them for this; one can only despise them.”He looked at Hawat. “We were discussing equipment. Would you care to project a few examples to familiarize the men with this machinery?” Hawat nodded, gestured to an aide at the projector.

A solido tri-D projection appeared on the table surface about a third of the way down from the Duke. Some of the men farther along the table stood up to get a better look at it.

Paul leaned forward, staring at the machine.

Scaled against the tiny projected human figures around it, the thing was about one hundred and twenty meters long and about forty meters wide. It was basically a long, buglike body moving on independent sets of wide tracks.

“This is a harvester factory,”Hawat said. “We chose one in good repair for this projection. There’s one dragline outfit that came in with the first team of Imperial ecologists, though, and it’s still running … although I don’t know how … or why.”

“If that’s the one they call ‘Old Maria,’ it belongs in a museum,”an aide said. “I think the Harkonnens kept it as a punishment job, a threat hanging over their workers’ heads. Be good or you’ll be assigned to Old Maria.” Chuckles sounded around the table.

Paul held himself apart from the humor, his attention focused on the projection and the question that filled his mind. He pointed to the image on the table, said: “Thufir, are there sandworms big enough to swallow that whole?” Quick silence settled on the table. The Duke cursed under his breath, then thought: No—they have tofacethe realities here.

“There’re worms in the deep desert could take this entire factory in one gulp,”Hawat said. “Up here closer to the Shield Wall where most of the spicing’s done there are plenty of worms that could cripple this factory and devour it at their leisure.”

“Why don’t we shield them?”Paul asked.

“According to Idaho’s report,”Hawat said, “shields are dangerous in the desert. A body-size shield will call every worm for hundreds of meters around. It appears to drive them into a killing frenzy. We’ve the Fremen word on this and no reason to doubt it. Idaho saw no evidence of shield equipment at the sietch.”

“None at all?”Paul asked.

“It’d be pretty hard to conceal that kind of thing among several thousand people,”Hawat said. “Idaho had free access to every part of the sietch. He saw no shields or any indication of their use.”

“It’s a puzzle,”the Duke said.

“The Harkonnens certainly used plenty of shields here,”Hawat said. “They had repair depots in every garrison village, and their accounts show a heavy expenditure for shield replacements and parts.” “Could the Fremen have a way of nullifying shields?”Paul asked.

“It doesn’t seem likely,”Hawat said. “It’s theoretically possible, of course— a shire-sized static counter charge is supposed to do the trick, but no one’s ever been able to put it to the test.”

“We’d have heard about it before now,”Halleck said. “The smugglers have close contact with the Fremen and would’ve acquired such a device if it were available. And they’d have had no inhibitions against marketing it off planet.”

“I don’t like an unanswered question of this importance,”Leto said. “Thufir, I want you to give top priority to solution of this problem.”

“We’re already working on it, my Lord.”He cleared his throat. “Ah-h, Idaho did say one thing: he said you couldn’t mistake the Fremen attitude toward shields. He said they were mostly amused by them.” The Duke frowned, then: “The subject under discussion is spicing equipment.” Hawat gestured to his aide at the projector.

The solido-image of the harvester-factory was replaced by a projection of a winged device that dwarfed the images of human figures around it. “This is a carryall,”Hawat said. “It’s essentially a large ‘thopter, whose sole function is to deliver a factory to spice-rich sands, then to rescue the factory when a sandworm appears. They always appear. Harvesting the spice is a process of getting in and getting out with as much as possible.”

“Admirably suited to Harkonnen morality,”the Duke said.

Laughter was abrupt and too loud.

An ornithopter replaced the carryall in the projection focus.

“These ‘thopters are fairly conventional,”Hawat said. “Major modifications give them extended range. Extra care has been used in sealing essential areas against sand and dust. Only about one in thirty is shielded—possibly discarding the shield generator’s weight for greater range.”

“I don’t like this de-emphasis on shields,”the Duke muttered. And he thought: Is this the Harkonnen secret? Does it mean we won’t even be able to escape on shielded frigates if all goes against us? He shook his head sharply to drive out such thoughts, said: “Let’s get to the working estimate. What’ll our profit figure be?” Hawat turned two pages in his notebook. “After assessing the repairs and operable equipment, we’ve worked out a first estimate on operating costs. It’s based naturally on a depreciated figure for a clear safety margin.”He closed his eyes in Mentat semitrance, said: “Under the Harkonnens, maintenance and salaries were held to fourteen per cent. We’ll be lucky to make it at thirty per cent at first. With reinvestment and growth factors accounted for, including the CHOAM percentage and military costs, our profit margin will be reduced to a very narrow six or seven per cent until we can replace worn-out equipment. We then should be able to boost it up to twelve or fifteen per cent where it belongs.” He opened his eyes. “Unless my Lord wishes to adopt Harkonnen methods.”

“We’re working for a solid and permanent planetary base,”the Duke said.

“We have to keep a large percentage of the people happy—especially the Fremen.”

“Most especially the Fremen,”Hawat agreed.

“Our supremacy on Caladan,”the Duke said, “depended on sea and air power. Here, we must develop something I choose to call desert power. This may include air power, but it’s possible it may not. I call your attention to the lack of ‘thopter shields.”He shook his head. “The Harkonnens relied on turnover from off planet for some of their key personnel. We don’t dare. Each new lot would have its quota of provocateurs.”

“Then we’ll have to be content with far less profit and a reduced harvest,” Hawat said. “Our output the first two seasons should be down a third from the Harkonnen average.”

“There it is,”the Duke said, “exactly as we expected. ”We’ll have to move fast with the Fremen. I’d like five full battalions of Fremen troops before the first CHOAM audit.”

“That’s not much time, Sire,”Hawat said.

“We don’t have much time, as you well know. They’ll be here with Sardaukar disguised as Harkonnens at the first opportunity. How many do you think they’ll ship in, Thufir?”

“Four or five battalions all told, Sire. No more, Guild troop-transport costs being what they are.”

“Then five battalions of Fremen plus our own forces ought to do it. Let us have a few captive Sardaukar to parade in front of the Landsraad Council and matters will be much different—profits or no profits.”

“We’ll do our best, Sire.” Paul looked at his father, back to Hawat, suddenly conscious of the Mentat’s great age, aware that the old man had served three generations of Atreides. Aged.

It showed in the rheumy shine of the brown eyes, in the cheeks cracked and burned by exotic weathers, in the rounded curve of the shoulders and the thin set of his lips with the cranberry-colored stain of sapho juice.

So much depends on one aged man, Paul thought.

“We’re presently in a war of assassins,”the Duke said, “but it has not achieved full scale. Thufir, what’s the condition of the Harkonnen machine here?”

“We’ve eliminated two hundred and fifty-nine of their key people, my Lord.

No more than three Harkonnen cells remain—perhaps a hundred people in all.”

“These Harkonnen creatures you eliminated,”the Duke said, “were they propertied?”

“Most were well situated, my Lord—in the entrepreneur class.”

“I want you to forge certificates of allegiance over the signatures of each of them,”the Duke said. “File copies with the Judge of the Change. We’ll take the legal position that they stayed under false allegiance. Confiscate their property, take everything, turn out their families, strip them. And make sure the Crown gets its ten per cent. It must be entirely legal.” Thufir smiled, revealing red-stained teeth beneath the carmine lips. “A move worthy of your grandsire, my Lord. It shames me I didn’t think of it first.” Halleck frowned across the table, noticing a deep scowl on Paul’s face. The others were smiling and nodding.

It’s wrong, Paul thought. This’ll only make the others fight all the harder.

They’ve nothing to gain by surrendering.

He knew the actual no-holds-barred convention that ruled in kanly, but this was the sort of move that could destroy them even as it gave them victory.

“ ‘I have been a stranger in a strange land,’ ”Halleck quoted.

Paul stared at him, recognizing the quotation from the O.C. Bible, wondering: Does Gurney, too, wish an end to devious plots? The Duke glanced at the darkness out the windows, looked back at Halleck.

“Gurney, how many of those sandworkers did you persuade to stay with us?”

“Two hundred eighty-six in all, Sire. I think we should take them and consider ourselves lucky. They’re all in useful categories.”

“No more?”The Duke pursed his lips, then: “Well, pass the word along to —” A disturbance at the door interrupted him. Duncan Idaho came through the guard there, hurried down the length of the table and bent over the Duke’s ear.

Leto waved him back, said: “Speak out, Duncan. You can see this is strategy staff.” Paul studied Idaho, marking the feline movements, the swiftness of reflex that made him such a difficult weapons teacher to emulate. Idaho’s dark round face turned toward Paul, the cave-sitter eyes giving no hint of recognition, but Paul recognized the mask of serenity over excitement.

Idaho looked down the length of the table, said: “We’ve taken a force of Harkonnen mercenaries disguised as Fremen. The Fremen themselves sent us a courier to warn of the false band. In the attack, however, we found the Harkonnens had waylaid the Fremen courier—badly wounded him. We were bringing him here for treatment by our medics when he died. I’d seen how badly off the man was and stopped to do what I could. I surprised him in the attempt to throw something away.”Idaho glanced down at Leto. “A knife, m’Lord, a knife the like of which you’ve never seen.”

“Crysknife?”someone asked.

“No doubt of it,”Idaho said. “Milky white and glowing with a light of its own like.”He reached into his tunic, brought out a sheath with a black-ridged handle protruding from it.

“Keep that blade in its sheath!” The voice came from the open door at the end of the room, a vibrant and penetrating voice that brought them all up, staring.

A tall, robed figure stood in the door, barred by the crossed swords of the guard. A light tan robe completely enveloped the man except for a gap in the hood and black veil that exposed eyes of total blue—no white in them at all.

“Let him enter,”Idaho whispered.

“Pass that man,”the Duke said.

The guards hesitated, then lowered their swords.

The man swept into the room, stood across from the Duke.

“This is Stilgar, chief of the sietch I visited, leader of those who warned us of the false band,”Idaho said.

“Welcome, sir,”Leto said. “And why shouldn’t we unsheath this blade?” Stilgar glanced at Idaho, said: “You observed the customs of cleanliness and honor among us. I would permit you to see the blade of the man you befriended.”His gaze swept the others in the room. “But I do not know these others. Would you have them defile an honorable weapon?”

“I am the Duke Leto,”the Duke said. “Would you permit me to see this blade?”

“I’ll permit you to earn the right to unsheath it,”Stilgar said, and, as a mutter of protest sounded around the table, he raised a thin, darkly veined hand. “I remind you this is the blade of one who befriended you.” In the waiting silence, Paul studied the man, sensing the aura of power that radiated from him. He was a leader—a Fremen leader.

A man near the center of the table across from Paul muttered: “Who’s he to tell us what rights we have on Arrakis?”

“It is said that the Duke Leto Atreides rules with the consent of the governed,”the Fremen said. “Thus I must tell you the way it is with us: a certain responsibility falls on those who have seen a crysknife.”He passed a dark glance across Idaho. “They are ours. They may never leave Arrakis without our consent.”

Halleck and several of the others started to rise, angry expressions on their faces. Halleck said: “The Duke Leto determines whether—”

“One moment, please,”Leto said, and the very mildness of his voice held them. This must not get out of hand, he thought. He addressed himself to the Fremen: “Sir, I honor and respect the personal dignity of any man who respects my dignity. I am indeed indebted to you. And I always pay my debts. If it is your custom that this knife remain sheathed here, then it is so ordered—by me. And if there is any other way we may honor the man who died in our service, you have but to name it.” The Fremen stared at the Duke, then slowly pulled aside his veil, revealing a thin nose and full-lipped mouth in a glistening black beard. Deliberately he bent over the end of the table, spat on its polished surface.

As the men around the table started to surge to their feet, Idaho’s voice boomed across the room: “Hold!” Into the sudden charged stillness, Idaho said: “We thank you, Stilgar, for the gift of your body’s moisture. We accept it in the spirit with which it is given.” And Idaho spat on the table in front of the Duke.

Aside to the Duke, he said: “Remember how precious water is here, Sire.

That was a token of respect.” Leto sank back into his own chair, caught Paul’s eye, a rueful grin on his son’s face, sensed the slow relaxation of tension around the table as understanding came to his men.

The Fremen looked at Idaho, said: “You measured well in my sietch, Duncan Idaho. Is there a bond on your allegiance to your Duke?”

“He’s asking me to enlist with him, Sire,”Idaho said.

“Would he accept a dual allegiance?”Leto asked.

“You wish me to go with him, Sire?”

“I wish you to make your own decision in the matter,”Leto said, and he could not keep the urgency out of his voice.

Idaho studied the Fremen. “Would you have me under these conditions, Stilgar? There’d be times when I’d have to return to serve my Duke.”

“You fight well and you did your best for our friend,”Stilgar said. He looked at Leto. “Let it be thus: the man Idaho keeps the crysknife he holds as a mark of his allegiance to us. He must be cleansed, of course, and the rites observed, but this can be done. He will be Fremen and soldier of the Atreides. There is precedent for this: Liet serves two masters.”

“Duncan?”Leto asked.

“I understand, Sire,”Idaho said.

“It is agreed, then,”Leto said.

“Your water is ours, Duncan Idaho,”Stilgar said. “The body of our friend remains with your Duke. His water is Atreides water. It is a bond between us.” Leto sighed, glanced at Hawat, catching the old Mentat’s eye. Hawat nodded, his expression pleased.

“I will await below,”Stilgar said, “while Idaho makes farewell with his friends. Turok was the name of our dead friend. Remember that when it comes time to release his spirit. You are friends of Turok.” Stilgar started to turn away.

“Will you not stay a while?”Leto asked.

The Fremen turned back, whipping his veil into place with a casual gesture, adjusting something beneath it. Paul glimpsed what looked like a thin tube before the veil settled into place.

“Is there reason to stay?”the Fremen asked.

“We would honor you,”the Duke said.

“Honor requires that I be elsewhere soon,”the Fremen said. He shot another glance at Idaho, whirled, and strode out past the door guards.

“If the other Fremen match him, we’ll serve each other well,”Leto said.

Idaho spoke in a dry voice: “He’s a fair sample, Sire.”

“You understand what you’re to do, Duncan?”

“I’m your ambassador to the Fremen, Sire.”

“Much depends on you, Duncan. We’re going to need at least five battalions of those people before the Sardaukar descend on us.”

“This is going to take some doing, Sire. The Fremen are a pretty independent bunch.”Idaho hesitated, then: “And, Sire, there’s one other thing. One of the mercenaries we knocked over was trying to get this blade from our dead Fremen friend. The mercenary says there’s a Harkonnen reward of a million solaris for anyone who’ll bring in a single crysknife.” Leto’s chin came up in a movement of obvious surprise. “Why do they want one of those blades so badly?”

“The knife is ground from a sandworm’s tooth; it’s the mark of the Fremen, Sire. With it, a blue-eyed man could penetrate any sietch in the land. They’d question me unless I were known. I don’t look Fremen. But….”

“Piter de Vries,”the Duke said.

“A man of devilish cunning, my Lord,”Hawat said.

Idaho slipped the sheathed knife beneath his tunic.

“Guard that knife,”the Duke said.

“I understand, m’Lord.”He patted the transceiver on his belt kit. “I’ll report soon as possible. Thufir has my call code. Use battle language.”He saluted, spun about, and hurried after the Fremen.

They heard his footsteps drumming down the corridor.

A look of understanding passed between Leto and Hawat. They smiled.

“We’ve much to do, Sire,”Halleck said.

“And I keep you from your work,”Leto said.

“I have the report on the advance bases,”Hawat said. “Shall I give it another time, Sire?”

“Will it take long?”

“Not for a briefing. It’s said among the Fremen that there were more than two hundred of these advance bases built here on Arrakis during the Desert Botanical Testing Station period. All supposedly have been abandoned, but there are reports they were sealed off before being abandoned.”

“Equipment in them?”the Duke asked.

“According to the reports I have from Duncan.”

“Where are they located?”Halleck asked.

“The answer to that question,”Hawat said, “is invariably: ‘Liet knows.’ ”

“God knows,”Leto muttered.

“Perhaps not, Sire,”Hawat said. “You heard this Stilgar use the name. Could he have been referring to a real person?”

“Serving two masters,”Halleck said. “It sounds like a religious quotation.”

“And you should know,”the Duke said.

Halleck smiled.

“This Judge of the Change,”Leto said, “the Imperial ecologist—Kynes….

Wouldn’t he know where those bases are?”

“Sire,”Hawat cautioned, “this Kynes is an Imperial servant.”

“And he’s a long way from the Emperor,”Leto said. “I want those bases.

They’d be loaded with materials we could salvage and use for repair of our working equipment.”

“Sire!”Hawat said. “Those bases are still legally His Majesty’s fief.”

“The weather here’s savage enough to destroy anything,”the Duke said.

“We can always blame the weather. Get this Kynes and at least find out if the bases exist.”

“‘Twere dangerous to commandeer them,”Hawat said. “Duncan was clear on one thing: those bases or the idea of them hold some deep significance for the Fremen. We might alienate the Fremen if we took those bases.” Paul looked at the faces of the men around them, saw the intensity of the way they followed every word. They appeared deeply disturbed by his father’s attitude.

“Listen to him, Father,”Paul said in a low voice. “He speaks truth.”

“Sire,”Hawat said, “those bases could give us material to repair every piece of equipment left us, yet be beyond reach for strategic reasons. It’d be rash to move without greater knowledge. This Kynes has arbiter authority from the Imperium. We mustn’t forget that. And the Fremen defer to him.”

“Do it gently, then,”the Duke said. “I wish to know only if those bases exist.”

“As you will, Sire.”Hawat sat back, lowered his eyes.

“All right, then,”the Duke said. “We know what we have ahead of us— work. We’ve been trained for it. We’ve some experience in it. We know what the rewards are and the alternatives are clear enough. You all have your assignments.”He looked at Halleck. “Gurney, take care of that smuggler situation first.”

“‘I shall go unto the rebellious that dwell in the dry land,’ ”Halleck intoned.

“Someday I’ll catch that man without a quotation and he’ll look undressed,” the Duke said.

Chuckles echoed around the table, but Paul heard the effort in them.

The Duke turned to Hawat. “Set up another command post for intelligence and communications on this floor, Thufir. When you have them ready, I’ll want to see you.” Hawat arose, glancing around the room as though seeking support. He turned away, led the procession out of the room. The others moved hurriedly, scraping their chairs on the floor, balling up in little knots of confusion.

It ended up in confusion, Paul thought, staring at the backs of the last men to leave. Always before, Staff had ended on an incisive air. This meeting had just seemed to trickle out, worn down by its own inadequacies, and with an argument to top it off.

For the first time, Paul allowed himself to think about the real possibility of defeat—not thinking about it out of fear or because of warnings such as that of the old Reverend Mother, but facing up to it because of his own assessment of the situation.

My father is desperate, he thought. Things aren’t going well for us at all.

And Hawat—Paul recalled how the old Mentat had acted during the conference—subtie hesitations, signs of unrest.

Hawat was deeply troubled by something.

“Best you remain here the rest of the night, Son,”the Duke said. “It’ll be dawn soon, anyway. I’ll inform your mother.”He got to his feet, slowly, stiffly.

“Why don’t you pull a few of these chairs together and stretch out on them for some rest.”

“I’m not very tired, sir.”

“As you will.” The Duke folded his hands behind him, began pacing up and down the length of the table.

Like a caged animal, Paul thought.

“Are you going to discuss the traitor possibility with Hawat?”Paul asked.

The Duke stopped across from his son, spoke to the dark windows. “We’ve discussed the possibility many times.”

“The old woman seemed so sure of herself,”Paul said. “And the message Mother—”

“Precautions have been taken,”the Duke said. He looked around the room, and Paul marked the hunted wildness in his father’s eyes. “Remain here. There are some things about the command posts I want to discuss with Thufir.”He turned, strode out of the room, nodding shortly to the door guards.

Paul stared at the place where his father had stood. The space had been empty even before the Duke left the room. And he recalled the old woman’s warning: “… for the father, nothing.”

文/布莱恩·赫伯特 凯文·J·安德森

1957年，为了写一篇介绍美国农业部某研究项目的杂志文章，弗兰克·赫伯特租了一架小型飞机，来到俄勒冈州海岸的沙丘。美国农业部开发了一种稳固沙层的方法，在沙丘顶部种植耐贫瘠的植物，以防止沙丘流动并吞没道路和建筑物。他打算给这篇文章定个标题，叫“他们挡住了流沙”。

回到家开始写这篇文章时，他意识到某种比杂志文章更宏大的东西。在飞行过程中，注视着像海上波浪一样的沙丘时，他感到了一种情感的牵引。他坐在打字机前，闭上眼睛，想象出一颗广阔的沙漠星球。他看到了一个像马赫迪一样的沙漠救世主骑着马，带着一支骑着马，带着一支骑着马和骆驼的杂乱军队，如雷霆般在沙漠中驰骋。这位领袖富有魅力，能够在他的人民当中激起狂热的忠诚。

渐渐地，这些画面在弗兰克·赫伯特的脑海中变得更宏达，更广阔，他创造了一整个由外星球组成的宇宙。这颗沙漠星球将是所有星球中最重要的，它盛产一种稀缺资源——名叫“美琅脂”。帝国政府和星际公司都需要这种资源，并为控制这种资源而大打出手。

这样一个故事需要一张非常大的画布。

弗兰克·赫伯特先于所有人看过一部《沙丘》电影——一场在他脑海中上演的史诗般的电影盛事：一场梦幻般的、弥赛亚式的幻象，然后他将其打造成了一部堪称有史以来最受推崇的科幻小说。

弗兰克·赫伯特一生都热爱相机和摄影。他在报纸行业中担任专栏作家，葡萄酒编辑和专业摄影师，通常为西海岸的赫斯特旗下的报纸工作。多年后，在指导他大儿子布莱恩从事写作时，他告诉儿子，他喜欢写描述性的段落，这就像透过相机的镜头，描述他所看到的东西。

作为示例，他讲到他是如何在《沙丘》中介绍邪恶的弗拉基米尔·哈克男爵的：从一间无窗的屋子中的黑影开始，“一只戴着光彩夺目的戒指的胖手”旋转着一颗未知星球的立体星球仪。画面徐徐展开，但并不是视觉上的。首先是声音：“星球仪旁边传出一阵嗤嗤的笑声，笑声中蹦出一个低沉的嗓音……”

弗兰克·赫伯特没有正面描述男爵的外貌，而是让这个卑鄙的人用隆隆的、低沉的、冷酷的声音密谋对付高贵的雷托公爵和厄崔迪家族的计划，这种充满杀意的举止，恐吓和威胁着房间里和其他人——彼得·德伏来和菲德-罗萨·哈克南。男爵动了一下，但还是让人没法看清。相反，他“在星球仪旁的暗影中动了动身子。”

在整个章节中，作者慢慢地向读者透露了越来越多的信息，就像照相机镜头的光圈逐渐打开一样。经过三千字的悬念铺垫，男爵终于被正面描述。“当她从阴影中现身的时候，映入眼帘的是一个极为庞大的身形——不论从质量上还是体积上——和一身肥肉。他穿着黑色长袍，衣服的褶皱下有一些细微的隆起，可以看出他身上装着便携式浮空器，拖着那身肥肉。”

《沙丘》是一个极其生动、复杂，且十分完整的故事，充满了独特的想法和令人难以置信的异国情调。每一个度过这部经典小说的人，都会想象和塑造出他们自己的保罗·穆阿迪布、雷托·厄崔迪公爵、杰西卡夫人、哈克南男爵、野兽拉班、邓肯·艾达荷、哥尼·哈莱克、杜菲·哈瓦特……从而欣赏到属于他们自己的电影。

已有其他电影人将他们对《沙丘》的诠释搬上来银幕——大卫林奇1984年的电影和约翰·哈里森后来的迷你电视剧。在他们之前还有一些导演，其项目进行到了不同的阶段，但是没能将它搬上银幕。所有这些导演都是保罗的前辈，他们资源踏上沙丘星球上的炙热沙地，而这的确是对导演技巧的一次非常大的考验。

布莱恩清楚地记得，在《沙丘》最初的创作阶段，他在赫伯特大家庭里的经历。布莱恩记得自己听到父亲给母亲读了一段话：一个名叫保罗·厄崔迪的年轻人，被迫将受放进神秘的盒子里，而一个老妇人——圣母盖乌斯·海伦·莫西阿姆，用毒针顶着他的脖子。

听着听着，布莱恩被这戏剧性的场景和奇怪的话语缩吸引——戈姆刺、穆阿迪布、帕迪沙皇帝、魁萨茨·哈德拉克、厄拉克斯、贝尼·杰瑟里特。随着这些词语和名字从他父亲的舌头上滚落，以铿锵有力的声音发出，布莱恩沉醉于他门那沙哑、神秘的回响。

布莱恩后来才意识到，他听到的其实是《沙丘》的开头章节。

《沙丘》的故事在出版半个多世纪后仍然受到全世界的喜爱和推崇，而且它海将迎来更多的观众。

对传奇影业来说，导演丹尼斯·维伦纽瓦已经接受了这项兼具挑战——为弗兰克·赫伯特的杰作执导一部广受认可的电影版本。维伦纽瓦之前拍的两部科幻电影试水《降临》（2016）和《银翼杀手2049》（2017）——都是充满了想象色彩的视觉盛宴。现在，通过《沙丘》，他达成了足以确立自己地位的成就，这是一部卓越的电影，即使是最铁杆的弗兰克·赫伯特粉丝也不会失望。

任何改变自《沙丘》的电影，都是在弗兰克·赫伯特的奇幻宇宙所奠定的创意和所秒回的广博基础上进行的。“沙丘”正传系列给维伦纽瓦提供了大量素材，包括弗兰克·赫伯特的第一部小说以及它的五部续集《沙丘救世主》《沙丘之子》《沙丘神帝》《沙丘异端》《圣殿沙丘》——这些小说总共有一百多万字，跨越了五千年历史。除了这几部原著作品，我们还一起创作了许多畅销全球的小说，扩展了“沙丘”的历史和人物，从《沙丘》故事一万年前的巴特勒圣战和贝尼·杰瑟里特学校建立这样社员的故事起源，一直到五千年后的大结局。我们的后传和前传为“沙丘”传奇增加了数百万字，填补了雷托公爵的背景故事，讲述了他与卑鄙的哈克南男爵之初的冲突，以及雷托和杰西卡感人的爱情，保罗的诞生还有伊勒琅公主为了保罗·穆阿迪布的传奇一生编纂编年史所做的大量工作。

CHAPTER 2

To attempt an understanding of Muad‘Dib without understanding his mortal enemies, the Harkonnens, is to attempt seeing Truth without knowing Falsehood. It is the attempt to see the Light without knowing Darkness. It can not be.

—from“Manual of Muad’Dib” by the Princess Irulan

IT WAS A relief globe of a world, partly in shadows, spinning under the impetus of a fat hand that glittered with rings. The globe sat on a freeform stand at one wall of a windowless room whose other walls presented a patchwork of multicolored scrolls, filmbooks, tapes and reels. Light glowed in the room from golden balls hanging in mobile suspensor fields.

An ellipsoid desk with a top of jade-pink petrified elacca wood stood at the center of the room. Veriform suspensor chairs ringed it, two of them occupied.

In one sat a dark-haired youth of about sixteen years, round of face and with sullen eyes. The other held a slender, short man with effeminate face.

Both youth and man stared at the globe and the man half-hidden in shadows spinning it.

A chuckle sounded beside the globe. A basso voice rumbled out of the chuckle: “There it is, Piter—the biggest mantrap in all history. And the Duke’s headed into its jaws. Is it not a magnificent thing that I, the Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, do?”

“Assuredly, Baron,” said the man. His voice came out tenor with a sweet, musical quality.

The fat hand descended onto the globe, stopped the spinning. Now, all eyes in the room could focus on the motionless surface and see that it was the kind of globe made for wealthy collectors or planetary governors of the Empire. It had the stamp of Imperial handicraft about it. Latitude and longitude lines were laid in with hair-fine platinum wire. The polar caps were insets of finest cloudmilk diamonds.

The fat hand moved, tracing details on the surface. “I invite you to observe,” the basso voice rumbled. “Observe closely, Piter, and you, too, Feyd-Rautha, my darling: from sixty degrees north to seventy degrees south—these exquisite ripples. Their coloring: does it not remind you of sweet caramels? And nowhere do you see blue of lakes or rivers or seas. And these lovely polar caps—so small.

Could anyone mistake this place? Arrakis! Truly unique. A superb setting for a unique victory.” A smile touched Piter’s lips. “And to think, Baron: the Padishah Emperor believes he’s given the Duke your spice planet. How poignant.”

“That’s a nonsensical statement,” the Baron rumbled. “You say this to confuse young Feyd-Rautha, but it is not necessary to confuse my nephew.” The sullen-faced youth stirred in his chair, smoothed a wrinkle in the black leotards he wore. He sat upright as a discreet tapping sounded at the door in the wall behind him.

Piter unfolded from his chair, crossed to the door, cracked it wide enough to accept a message cylinder. He closed the door, unrolled the cylinder and scanned it. A chuckle sounded from him. Another.

“Well?” the Baron demanded.

“The fool answered us, Baron!”

“Whenever did an Atreides refuse the opportunity for a gesture?” the Baron asked. “Well, what does he say?”

“He’s most uncouth, Baron. Addresses you as ‘Harkonnen’-no ‘Sire et Cher Cousin,’ no title, nothing.”

“It’s a good name,” the Baron growled, and his voice betrayed his impatience. “What does dear Leto say?”

“He says: ‘Your offer of a meeting is refused. I have ofttimes met your treachery and this all men know.’ ”

“And?” the Baron asked.

“He says: ‘The art of kanly still has admirers in the Empire.’ He signs it: ‘Duke Leto of Arrakis.’ ” Piter began to laugh. “Of Arrakis! Oh, my! This is almost too rich!”

“Be silent, Piter,” the Baron said, and the laughter stopped as though shut off with a switch. “Kanly, is it?” the Baron asked. “Vendetta, heh? And he uses the nice old word so rich in tradition to be sure I know he means it.”

“You made the peace gesture,” Piter said. “The forms have been obeyed.”

“For a Mentat, you talk too much, Piter,” the Baron said. And he thought: I must do away with that one soon. He has almost outlived his usefulness. The Baron stared across the room at his Mentat assassin, seeing the feature about him that most people noticed first: the eyes, the shaded slits of blue within blue, the eyes without any white in them at all.

A grin flashed across Piter’s face. It was like a mask grimace beneath those eyes like holes. “But, Baron! Never has revenge been more beautiful. It is to see a plan of the most exquisite treachery: to make Leto exchange Caladan for Dune —and without alternative because the Emperor orders it. How waggish of you!” In a cold voice, the Baron said: “You have a flux of the mouth, Piter.”

“But I am happy, my Baron. Whereas you … you are touched by jealousy.”

“Piter!”

“Ah-ah, Baron! Is it not regrettable you were unable to devise this delicious scheme by yourself?”

“Someday I will have you strangled, Piter.”

“Of a certainty, Baron. Enfin! But a kind act is never lost, eh?”

“Have you been chewing verite or semuta, Piter?”

“Truth without fear surprises the Baron,” Piter said. His face drew down into a caricature of a frowning mask. “Ah, hah! But you see, Baron, I know as a Mentat when you will send the executioner. You will hold back just so long as I am useful. To move sooner would be wasteful and I’m yet of much use. I know what it is you learned from that lovely Dune planet—waste not. True, Baron?” The Baron continued to stare at Piter.

Feyd-Rautha squirmed in his chair. These wrangling fools! he thought. My uncle cannot talk to his Mentat without arguing. Do they think I’ve nothing to do except listen to their arguments? “Feyd,” the Baron said. “I told you to listen and learn when I invited you in here. Are you learning?”

“Yes, Uncle.” the voice was carefully subservient.

“Sometimes I wonder about Piter,” the Baron said. “I cause pain out of necessity, but he … I swear he takes a positive delight in it. For myself, I can feel pity toward the poor Duke Leto. Dr. Yueh will move against him soon, and that’ll be the end of all the Atreides. But surely Leto will know whose hand directed the pliant doctor … and knowing that will be a terrible thing.”

“Then why haven’t you directed the doctor to slip a kindjal between his ribs quietly and efficiently?” Piter asked. “You talk of pity, but—”

“The Duke must know when I encompass his doom,” the Baron said. “And the other Great Houses must learn of it. The knowledge will give them pause. I’ll gain a bit more room to maneuver. The necessity is obvious, but I don’t have to like it.”

“Room to maneuver,” Piter sneered. “Already you have the Emperor’s eyes on you, Baron. You move too boldly. One day the Emperor will send a legion or two of his Sardaukar down here onto Giedi Prime and that’ll be an end to the Baron Vladimir Harkonnen.”

“You’d like to see that, wouldn’t you, Piter?” the Baron asked. “You’d enjoy seeing the Corps of Sardaukar pillage through my cities and sack this castle.

You’d truly enjoy that.”

“Does the Baron need to ask?” Piter whispered.

“You should’ve been a Bashar of the Corps,” the Baron said. “You’re too interested in blood and pain. Perhaps I was too quick with my promise of the spoils of Arrakis.” Piter took five curiously mincing steps into the room, stopped directly behind Feyd-Rautha. There was a tight air of tension in the room, and the youth looked up at Piter with a worried frown.

“Do not toy with Piter, Baron,” Piter said. “You promised me the Lady Jessica. You promised her to me.”

“For what, Piter?” the Baron asked. “For pain?” Piter stared at him, dragging out the silence.

Feyd-Rautha moved his suspensor chair to one side, said: “Uncle, do I have to stay? You said you’d—”

“My darling Feyd-Rautha grows impatient,” the Baron said. He moved within the shadows beside the globe. “Patience, Feyd.” And he turned his attention back to the Mentat. “What of the Dukeling, the child Paul, my dear Piter?”

“The trap will bring him to you, Baron,” Piter muttered.

“That’s not my question,” the Baron said. “You’ll recall that you predicted the Bene Gesserit witch would bear a daughter to the Duke. You were wrong, eh, Mentat?”

“I’m not often wrong, Baron,” Piter said, and for the first time there was fear in his voice. “Give me that: I’m not often wrong. And you know yourself these Bene Gesserit bear mostly daughters. Even the Emperor’s consort had produced only females.”

“Uncle,” said Feyd-Rautha, “you said there’d be something important here for me to—”

“Listen to my nephew,” the Baron said. “He aspires to rule my Barony, yet he cannot rule himself.” The Baron stirred beside the globe, a shadow among shadows. “Well then, Feyd-Rautha Harkonne, I summoned you here hoping to teach you a bit of wisdom. Have you observed our good Mentat? You should’ve learned something from this exchange.”

“But, Uncle—”

“A most efficient Mentat, Piter, wouldn’t you say, Feyd?”

“Yes, but—”

“Ah! Indeed but! But he consumes too much spice, eats it like candy. Look at his eyes! He might’ve come directly from the Arrakeen labor pool. Efficient, Piter, but he’s still emotional and prone to passionate outbursts. Efficient, Piter, but he still can err.” Piter spoke in a low, sullen tone: “Did you call me in here to impair my efficiency with criticism, Baron?”

“Impair your efficiency? You know me better, Piter. I wish only for my nephew to understand the limitations of a Mentat.”

“Are you already training my replacement?” Piter demanded.

“Replace you? Why, Piter, where could I find another Mentat with your cunning and venom?”

“The same place you found me, Baron.”

“Perhaps I should at that,” the Baron mused. “You do seem a bit unstable lately. And the spice you eat!”

“Are my pleasures too expensive, Baron? Do you object to them?”

“My dear Piter, your pleasures are what tie you to me. How could I object to that? I merely wish my nephew to observe this about you.”

“Then I’m on display,” Piter said. “Shall I dance? Shall I perform my various functions for the eminent Feyd-Rau—”

“Precisely,” the Baron said. “You are on display. Now, be silent.” He glanced at Feyd-Rautha, noting his nephew’s lips, the full and pouting look of them, the Harkonnen genetic marker, now twisted slightly in amusement. “This is a Mentat, Feyd. It has been trained and conditioned to perform certain duties.

The fact that it’s encased in a human body, however, must not be overlooked. A serious drawback, that. I sometimes think the ancients with their thinking machines had the right idea.”

“They were toys compared to me,” Piter snarled. “You yourself, Baron, could outperform those machines.”

“Perhaps,” the Baron said. “Ah, well….” He took a deep breath, belched.

“Now, Piter, outline for my nephew the salient features of our campaign against the House of Atreides. Function as a Mentat for us, if you please.”

“Baron, I’ve warned you not to trust one so young with this information. My observations of—”

“I’ll be the judge of this,” the Baron said. “I give you an order, Mentat.

Perform one of your various functions.”

“So be it,” Piter said. He straightened, assuming an odd attitude of dignity— as though it were another mask, but this time clothing his entire body. “In a few days Standard, the entire household of the Duke Leto will embark on a Spacing Guild liner for Arrakis. The Guild will deposit them at the city of Arrakeen rather than at our city of Carthag. The Duke’s Mentat, Thufir Hawat, will have concluded rightly that Arrakeen is easier to defend.”

“Listen carefully, Feyd,” the Baron said. “Observe the plans within plans within plans.” Feyd-Rautha nodded, thinking: This is more like it. The old monster is letting me in on secret things at last. He must really mean for me to be his heir.

“There are several tangential possibilities,” Piter said. “I indicate that House Atreides will go to Arrakis. We must not, however, ignore the possibility the Duke has contracted with the Guild to remove him to a place of safety outside the System. Others in like circumstances have become renegade Houses, taking family atomics and shields and fleeing beyond the Imperium.”

“The Duke’s too proud a man for that,” the Baron said.

“It is a possibility,” Piter said. “The ultimate effect for us would be the same, however.”

“No, it would not!” the Baron growled. “I must have him dead and his line ended.”

“That’s the high probability,” Piter said. “There are certain preparations that indicate when a House is going renegade. The Duke appears to be doing none of these things.”

“So,” the Baron sighed. “Get on with it, Piter.

“At Arrakeen,” Piter said, “the Duke and his family will occupy the Residency, lately the home of Count and Lady Fenring.”

“The Ambassador to the Smugglers,” the Baron chuckled.

“Ambassador to what?” Feyd-Rautha asked.

“Your uncle makes a joke,” Piter said. “He calls Count Fenring Ambassador to the Smugglers, indicating the Emperor’s interest in smuggling operations on Arrakis.” Feyd-Rautha turned a puzzled stare on his uncle. “Why?”

“Don’t be dense, Feyd,” the Baron snapped. “As long as the Guild remains effectively outside Imperial control, how could it be otherwise? How else could spies and assassins move about?” Feyd-Rautha’s mouth made a soundless “Oh-h-h-h.”

“We’ve arranged diversions at the Residency,” Piter said. “There’ll be an attempt on the life of the Atreides heir—an attempt which could succeed.”

“Piter,” the Baron rumbled, “you indicated—”

“I indicated accidents can happen,” Piter said. “And the attempt must appear valid.”

“Ah, but the lad has such a sweet young body,” the Baron said. “Of course, he’s potentially more dangerous than the father … with that witch mother training him. Accursed woman! Ah, well, please continue, Piter.”

“Hawat will have divined that we have an agent planted on him,” Piter said.

“The obvious suspect is Dr. Yueh, who is indeed our agent. But Hawat has investigated and found that our doctor is a Suk School graduate with Imperial Conditioning—supposedly safe enough to minister even to the Emperor. Great store is set on Imperial Conditioning. It’s assumed that ultimate conditioning cannot be removed without killing the subject. However, as someone once observed, given the right lever you can move a planet. We found the lever that moved the doctor.”

“How?” Feyd-Rautha asked. He found this a fascinating subject. Everyone knew you couldn’t subvert Imperial Conditioning! “Another time,” the Baron said. “Continue, Piter.”

“In place of Yueh,” Piter said, “we’ll drag a most interesting suspect across Hawat’s path. The very audacity of this suspect will recommend her to Hawat’s attention.”

“Her?” Feyd-Rautha asked.

“The Lady Jessica herself,” the Baron said.

“Is it not sublime?” Piter asked. “Hawat’s mind will be so filled with this prospect it’ll impair his function as a Mentat. He may even try to kill her.” Piter frowned, then: “But I don’t think he’ll be able to carry it off.”

“You don’t want him to, eh?” the Baron asked.

“Don’t distract me,” Piter said. “While Hawat’s occupied with the Lady Jessica, we’ll divert him further with uprisings in a few garrison towns and the like. These will be put down. The Duke must believe he’s gaining a measure of security. Then, when the moment is ripe, we’ll signal Yueh and move in with our major force … ah….”

“Go ahead, tell him all of it,” the Baron said.

“We’ll move in strengthened by two legions of Sardaukar disguised in Harkonnen livery.”

“Sardaukar!” Feyd-Rautha breathed. His mind focused on the dread Imperial troops, the killers without mercy, the soldier-fanatics of the Padishah Emperor.

“You see how I trust you, Feyd,” the Baron said. “No hint of this must ever reach another Great House, else the Landsraad might unite against the Imperial House and there’d be chaos.”

“The main point,” Piter said, “is this: since House Harkonnen is being used to do the Imperial dirty work, we’ve gained a true advantage. It’s a dangerous advantage, to be sure, but if used cautiously, will bring House Harkonnen greater wealth than that of any other House in the Imperium.”

“You have no idea how much wealth is involved, Feyd,” the Baron said.

“Not in your wildest imaginings. To begin, we’ll have an irrevocable directorship in the CHOAM Company.” Feyd-Rautha nodded. Wealth was the thing. CHOAM was the key to wealth, each noble House dipping from the company’s coffers whatever it could under the power of the directorships. Those CHOAM directorships—they were the real evidence of political power in the Imperium, passing with the shifts of voting strength within the Landsraad as it balanced itself against the Emperor and his supporters.

“The Duke Leto,” Piter said, “may attempt to flee to the new Fremen scum along the desert’s edge. Or he may try to send his family into that imagined security. But that path is blocked by one of His Majesty’s agents—the planetary ecologist. You may remember him—Kynes.”

“Feyd remembers him,” the Baron said. “Get on with it.”

“You do not drool very prettily, Baron,” Piter said.

“Get on with it, I command you!” the Baron roared.

Piter shrugged. “If matters go as planned,” he said, “House Harkonnen will have a subfief on Arrakis within a Standard year. Your uncle will have dispensation of that fief. His own personal agent will rule on Arrakis.”

“More profits,” Feyd-Rautha said.

“Indeed,” the Baron said. And he thought: It’s only just. We’re the ones who tamed Arrakis … except for the few mongrel Fremen hiding in the skirts of the desert … and some tame smugglers bound to the planet almost as tightly as the native laborpool.

“And the Great Houses will know that the Baron has destroyed the Atreides,” Piter said. “They will know.”

“They will know,” the Baron breathed.

“Loveliest of all,” Piter said, “is that the Duke will know, too. He knows now. He can already feel the trap.”

“It’s true the Duke knows,” the Baron said, and his voice held a note of sadness. “He could not help but know … more’s the pity.” The Baron moved out and away from the globe of Arrakis. As he emerged from the shadows, his figure took on dimension—grossly and immensely fat.

And with subtle bulges beneath folds of his dark robes to reveal that all this fat was sustained partly by portable suspensors harnessed to his flesh. He might weigh two hundred Standard kilos in actuality, but his feet would carry no more than fifty of them.

“I am hungry,” the Baron rumbled, and he rubbed his protruding lips with a beringed hand, stared down at Feyd-Rautha through fat-enfolded eyes. “Send for food, my darling. We will eat before we retire.”

CHAPTER 3

Thus spoke St. Alia-of-the-Knife: “The Reverend Mother must combine the seductive wiles of acourtesan with the untouchable majesty of a virgin goddess, holding these attributes in tension so long as the powers of her youth endure. For when youth and beauty have gone, she will find that the placebetween, once occupied by tension, has become a well-spring of cunning and resourcefulness.” —from“Muad’Dib, Family Commentaries” by the Princess Irulan

“WELL, JESSICA, what have you to say for yourself?” asked the Reverend Mother.

It was near sunset at Castle Caladan on the day of Paul’s ordeal. The two women were alone in Jessica’s morning room while Paul waited in the adjoining soundproofed Meditation Chamber.

Jessica stood facing the south windows. She saw and yet did not see the evening’s banked colors across meadow and river. She heard and yet did not hear the Reverend Mother’s question.

There had been another ordeal once—so many years ago. A skinny girl with hair the color of bronze, her body tortured by the winds of puberty, had entered the study of the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam, Proctor Superior of the Bene Gesserit school on Wallach IX. Jessica looked down at her right hand, flexed the fingers, remembering the pain, the terror, the anger.

“Poor Paul,” she whispered.

“I asked you a question, Jessica!” The old woman’s voice was snappish, demanding.

“What? Oh….” Jessica tore her attention away from the past, faced the Reverend Mother, who sat with back to the stone wall between the two west windows. “What do you want me to say?”

“What do I want you to say? What do I want you to say?” The old voice carried a tone of cruel mimicry.

“So I had a son!” Jessica flared. And she knew she was being goaded into this anger deliberately.

“You were told to bear only daughters to the Atreides.”

“It meant so much to him,” Jessica pleaded.

“And you in your pride thought you could produce the Kwisatz Haderach!” Jessica lifted her chin. “I sensed the possibility.”

“You thought only of your Duke’s desire for a son,” the old woman snapped.

“And his desires don’t figure in this. An Atreides daughter could’ve been wed to a Harkonnen heir and sealed the breach. You’ve hopelessly complicated matters.

We may lose both bloodlines now.”

“You’re not infallible,” Jessica said. She braved the steady stare from the old eyes.

Presently, the old woman muttered: “What’s done is done.”

“I vowed never to regret my decision,” Jessica said.

“How noble,” the Reverend Mother sneered. “No regrets. We shall see when you’re a fugitive with a price on your head and every man’s hand turned against you to seek your life and the life of your son.” Jessica paled. “Is there no alternative?”

“Alternative? A Bene Gesserit should ask that?”

“I ask only what you see in the future with your superior abilities.”

“I see in the future what I’ve seen in the past. You well know the pattern of our affairs, Jessica. The race knows its own mortality and fears stagnation of its heredity. It’s in the bloodstream—the urge to mingle genetic strains without plan. The Imperium, the CHOAM Company, all the Great Houses, they are but bits of flotsam in the path of the flood.”

“CHOAM,” Jessica muttered. “I suppose it’s already decided how they’ll redivide the spoils of Arrakis.”

“What is CHOAM but the weather vane of our times,” the old woman said.

“The Emperor and his friends now command fifty-nine point six-five per cent of the CHOAM directorship’s votes. Certainly they smell profits, and likely as others smell those same profits his voting strength will increase. This is the pattern of history, girl.”

“That’s certainly what I need right now,” Jessica said. “A review of history.”

“Don’t be facetious, girl! You know as well as I do what forces surround us.

We’ve a three-point civilization: the Imperial Household balanced against the Federated Great Houses of the Landsraad, and between them, the Guild with its damnable monopoly on interstellar transport. In politics, the tripod is the most unstable of all structures. It’d be bad enough without the complication of a feudal trade culture which turns its back on most science.” Jessica spoke bitterly: “Chips in the path of the flood—and this chip here, this is the Duke Leto, and this one’s his son, and this one’s—”

“Oh, shut up, girl. You entered this with full knowledge of the delicate edge you walked.”

“ ‘I am Bene Gesserit: I exist only to serve,’ ” Jessica quoted.

“Truth,” the old woman said. “And all we can hope for now is to prevent this from erupting into general conflagration, to salvage what we can of the key bloodlines.” Jessica closed her eyes, feeling tears press out beneath the lids. She fought down the inner trembling, the outer trembling, the uneven breathing, the ragged pulse, the sweating of the palms. Presently, she said, “I’ll pay for my own mistake.”

“And your son will pay with you.”

“I’ll shield him as well as I’m able.”

“Shield!” the old woman snapped. “You well know the weakness there! Shield your son too much, Jessica, and he’ll not grow strong enough to fulfill any destiny.” Jessica turned away, looked out the window at the gathering darkness. “Is it really that terrible, this planet of Arrakis?”

“Bad enough, but not all bad. The Missionaria Protectiva has been in there and softened it up somewhat.” The Reverend Mother heaved herself to her feet, straightened a fold in her gown. “Call the boy in here. I must be leaving soon.”

“Must you?” The old woman’s voice softened. “Jessica, girl, I wish I could stand in your place and take your sufferings. But each of us must make her own path.”

“I know.”

“You’re as dear to me as any of my own daughters, but I cannot let that interfere with duty.”

“I understand … the necessity.”

“What you did, Jessica, and why you did it—we both know. But kindness forces me to tell you there’s little chance your lad will be the Bene Gesserit Totality. You mustn’t let yourself hope too much.” Jessica shook tears from the corners of her eyes. It was an angry gesture.

“You make me feel like a little girl again—reciting my first lesson.” She forced the words out: “ ‘Humans must never submit to animals.’ ” A dry sob shook her.

In a low voice, she said: “I’ve been so lonely.”

“It should be one of the tests,” the old woman said. “Humans are almost always lonely. Now summon the boy. He’s had a long, frightening day. But he’s had time to think and remember, and I must ask the other questions about these dreams of his.” Jessica nodded, went to the door of the Meditation Chamber, opened it.

“Paul, come in now, please.” Paul emerged with a stubborn slowness. He stared at his mother as though she were a stranger. Wariness veiled his eyes when he glanced at the Reverend Mother, but this time he nodded to her, the nod one gives an equal. He heard his mother close the door behind him.

“Young man,” the old woman said, “let’s return to this dream business.”

“What do you want?”

“Do you dream every night?”

“Not dreams worth remembering. I can remember every dream, but some are worth remembering and some aren’t.”

“How do you know the difference?”

“I just know it.” The old woman glanced at Jessica, back to Paul. “What did you dream last night? Was it worth remembering?”

“Yes.” Paul closed his eyes. “I dreamed a cavern … and water … and a girl there—very skinny with big eyes. Her eyes are all blue, no whites in them. I talk to her and tell her about you, about seeing the Reverend Mother on Caladan.” Paul opened his eyes.

“And the thing you tell this strange girl about seeing me, did it happen today?” Paul thought about this, then: “Yes. I tell the girl you came and put a stamp of strangeness on me.”

“Stamp of strangeness,” the old woman breathed, and again she shot a glance at Jessica, returned her attention to Paul. “Tell me truly now, Paul, do you often have dreams of things that happen afterward exactly as you dreamed them?”

“Yes. And I’ve dreamed about that girl before.”

“Oh? You know her?”

“I will know her.”

“Tell me about her.” Again, Paul closed his eyes. “We’re in a little place in some rocks where it’s sheltered. It’s almost night, but it’s hot and I can see patches of sand out of an opening in the rocks. We’re… waiting for something … for me to go meet some people. And she’s frightened but trying to hide it from me, and I’m excited. And she says: ‘Tell me about the waters of your homeworld, Usul.’ ” Paul opened his eyes. “Isn’t that strange? My homeworld’s Caladan. I’ve never even heard of a planet called Usul.”

“Is there more to this dream?” Jessica prompted.

“Yes. But maybe she was calling me Usul,” Paul said. “I just thought of that.” Again, he closed his eyes. “She asks me to tell her about the waters. And I take her hand. And I say I’ll tell her a poem. And I tell her the poem, but I have to explain some of the words—like beach and surf and seaweed and seagulls.”

“What poem?” the Reverend Mother asked.

Paul opened his eyes. “It’s just one of Gurney Halleck’s tone poems for sad times.” Behind Paul, Jessica began to recite: “I remember salt smoke from a beach fire And shadows under the pines— Solid, clean … fixed— Seagulls perched at the tip of land, White upon green … And a wind comes through the pines To sway the shadows; The seagulls spread their wings, Lift And fill the sky with screeches.

And I hear the wind Blowing across our beach, And the surf, And I see that our fire Has scorched the seaweed.”

“That’s the one,” Paul said.

The old woman stared at Paul, then: “Young man, as a Proctor of the Bene Gesserit, I seek the Kwisatz Haderach, the male who truly can become one of us.

Your mother sees this possibility in you, but she sees with the eyes of a mother.

Possibility I see, too, but no more.” She fell silent and Paul saw that she wanted him to speak. He waited her out.

Presently, she said: “As you will, then. You’ve depths in you; that I’ll grant.”

“May I go now?” he asked.

“Don’t you want to hear what the Reverend Mother can tell you about the Kwisatz Haderach?” Jessica asked.

“She said those who tried for it died.”

“But I can help you with a few hints at why they failed,” the Reverend Mother said.

She talks of hints, Paul thought. She doesn’t really know anything. And he said: “Hint then.”

“And be damned to me?” She smiled wryly, a crisscross of wrinkles in the old face. “Very well: ‘That which submits rules.’ ” He felt astonishment: she was talking about such elementary things as tension within meaning. Did she think his mother had taught him nothing at all? “That’s a hint?” he asked.

“We’re not here to bandy words or quibble over their meaning,” the old woman said. “The willow submits to the wind and prospers until one day it is many willows—a wall against the wind. This is the willow’s purpose.” Paul stared at her. She said purpose and he felt the word buffet him, reinfecting him with terrible purpose. He experienced a sudden anger at her: fatuous old witch with her mouth full of platitudes.

“You think I could be this Kwisatz Haderach,” he said. “You talk about me, but you haven’t said one thing about what we can do to help my father. I’ve heard you talking to my mother. You talk as though my father were dead. Well, he isn’t!”

“If there were a thing to be done for him, we’d have done it,” the old woman growled. “We may be able to salvage you. Doubtful, but possible. But for your father, nothing. When you’ve learned to accept that as a fact, you’ve learned a real Bene Gesserit lesson.” Paul saw how the words shook his mother. He glared at the old woman. How could she say such a thing about his father? What made her so sure? His mind seethed with resentment.

The Reverend Mother looked at Jessica. “You’ve been training him in the Way—I’ve seen the signs of it. I’d have done the same in your shoes and devil take the Rules.” Jessica nodded.

“Now, I caution you,” said the old woman, “to ignore the regular order of training. His own safety requires the Voice. He already has a good start in it, but we both know how much more he needs … and that desperately.” She stepped close to Paul, stared down at him. “Goodbye, young human. I hope you make it.

But if you don’t—well, we shall yet succeed.” Once more she looked at Jessica. A flicker sign of understanding passed between them. Then the old woman swept from the room, her robes hissing, with not another backward glance. The room and its occupants already were shut from her thoughts.

But Jessica had caught one glimpse of the Reverend Mother’s face as she turned away. There had been tears on the seamed cheeks. The tears were more unnerving than any other word or sign that had passed between them this day.

You have read that Muad‘Dib had no playmates his own age on Caladan. The dangers were too great.

But Muad’Dib did have wonderful companionteachers. There was Gurney Halleck, the troubadour-warrior. You will sing some of Gurney’s songs as you read along in this book. There was Thufir Hawat, the old Mentat Master of Assassins, who struck fear even into the heart of the Padishah Emperor. There were Duncan Idaho, the Swordmaster of the Ginaz;

CHAPTER 5

YUEH (ya’ē), Wellington (weling- tun), Stdrd 10,082-10, 191; medical doctor of the Suk School (grd Stdrd 10, 112); md: WannaMarcus, B. G. (Stdrd 10,092-10,186?); chiefly noted as betrayer of Duke Leto Atreides.(Cf: Bibliography, Appendix VII Imperial Conditioning and Betrayal, The.)

—from“Dictionary of Muad’Dib”by thePrincess Irulan

ALTHOUGH HE heard Dr. Yueh enter the training room, noting the stiff deliberation of the man’s pace, Paul remained stretched out face down on the exercise table where the masseuse had left him. He felt deliciously relaxed after the workout with Gurney Halleck.

“You do look comfortable,”said Yueh in his calm, high-pitched voice.

Paul raised his head, saw the man’s stick figure standing several paces away, took in at a glance the wrinkled black clothing, the square block of a head with purple lips and drooping mustache, the diamond tattoo of Imperial Conditioning on his forehead, the long black hair caught in the Suk School’s silver ring at the left shoulder.

“You’ll be happy to hear we haven’t time for regular lessons today,”Yueh said. “Your father will be along presently.” Paul sat up.

“However, I’ve arranged for you to have a filmbook viewer and several lessons during the crossing to Arrakis.”

“Oh.” Paul began pulling on his clothes. He felt excitement that his father would be coming. They had spent so little time together since the Emperor’s command to take over the fief of Arrakis.

Yueh crossed to the ell table, thinking: How the boy has filled out these past few months. Such a waste! Oh, such a sad waste. And he reminded himself: I must not falter. What I do is done to be certain my Wanna no longer can be hurt by the Harkonnen beasts.

Paul joined him at the table, buttoning his jacket. “What’ll I be studying on the way across?”

“Ah-h-h, the terranic life forms of Arrakis. The planet seems to have opened its arms to certain terranic life forms. It’s not clear how. I must seek out the planetary ecologist when we arrive—a Dr. Kynes—and offer my help in the investigation.” And Yueh thought: What am I saying? I play the hypocrite even with myself.

“Will there be something on the Fremen?”Paul asked.

“The Fremen?”Yueh drummed his fingers on the table, caught Paul staring at the nervous motion, withdrew his hand.

“Maybe you have something on the whole Arrakeen population,”Paul said.

“Yes, to be sure,”Yueh said. “There are two general separations of the people—Fremen, they are one group, and the others are the people of the graben, the sink, and the pan. There’s some intermarriage, I’m told. The women of pan and sink villages prefer Fremen husbands; their men prefer Fremen wives. They have a saying: ‘Polish comes from the cities; wisdom from the desert.’ ”

“Do you have pictures of them?”

“I’ll see what I can get you. The most interesting feature, of course, is their eyes—totally blue, no whites in them.”

“Mutation?”

“No; it’s linked to saturation of the blood with melange.”

“The Fremen must be brave to live at the edge of that desert.”

“By all accounts,”Yueh said. “They compose poems to their knives. Their women are as fierce as the men. Even Fremen children are violent and dangerous. You’ll not be permitted to mingle with them, I daresay.” Paul stared at Yueh, finding in these few glimpses of the Fremen a power of words that caught his entire attention. What a people to win as allies! “And the worms?”Paul asked.

“What?”

“I’d like to study more about the sandworms.”

“Ah-h-h, to be sure. I’ve a filmbook on a small specimen, only one hundred and ten meters long and twenty-two meters in diameter. It was taken in the northern latitudes. Worms of more than four hundred meters in length have been recorded by reliable witnesses, and there’s reason to believe even larger ones exist.” Paul glanced down at a conical projection chart of the northern Arrakeen latitudes spread on the table. “The desert belt and south polar regions are marked uninhabitable. Is it the worms?”

“And the storms.”

“But any place can be made habitable.”

“If it’s economically feasible,”Yueh said. “Arrakis has many costly perils.” He smoothed his drooping mustache. “Your father will be here soon. Before I go, I’ve a gift for you, something I came across in packing.”He put an object on the table between them—black, oblong, no larger than the end of Paul’s thumb.

Paul looked at it. Yueh noted how the boy did not reach for it, and thought: How cautious he is.

“It’s a very old Orange Catholic Bible made for space travelers. Not a filmbook, but actually printed on filament paper. It has its own magnifier and electrostatic charge system.”He picked it up, demonstrated. “The book is held closed by the charge, which forces against spring-locked covers. You press the edge—thus, and the pages you’ve selected repel each other and the book opens.”

“It’s so small.”

“But it has eighteen hundred pages. You press the edge—thus, and so … and the charge moves ahead one page at a time as you read. Never touch the actual pages with your fingers. The filament tissue is too delicate.”He closed the book, handed it to Paul. “Try it.” Yueh watched Paul work the page adjustment, thought: I salve my own conscience. I give him the surcease of religion before betraying him. Thus may I say to myself that he has gone where I cannot go.

“This must’ve been made before filmbooks,”Paul said.

“It’s quite old. Let it be our secret, eh? Your parents might think it too valuable for one so young.” And Yueh thought: His mother would surely wonder at my motives.

“Well….”Paul closed the book, held it in his hand. “If it’s so valuable….”

“Indulge an old man’s whim,”Yueh said. “It was given to me when I was very young.”And he thought: I must catch his mind as well as his cupidity.

“Open it to four-sixty-seven K”alima—where it says: ‘From water does all life begin.’ There’s a slight notch on the edge of the cover to mark the place.” Paul felt the cover, detected two notches, one shallower than the other. He pressed the shallower one and the book spread open on his palm, its magnifier sliding into place.

“Read it aloud,”Yueh said.

Paul wet his lips with his tongue, read: ‘Think you of the fact that a deaf person cannot hear. Then, what deafness may we not all possess? What senses do we lack that we cannot see and cannot hear another world all around us? What is there around us that we cannot—”

“Stop it!”Yueh barked.

Paul broke off, stared at him.

Yueh closed his eyes, fought to regain composure. What perversity caused the book to open at my Wanna’s favorite passage? He opened his eyes, saw Paul staring at him.

“Is something wrong?”Paul asked.

“I’m sorry,”Yueh said. “That was … my … dead wife’s favorite passage.

It’s not the one I intended you to read. It brings up memories that are … painful.”

“There are two notches,”Paul said.

Of course, Yueh thought. Wanna marked her passage. His fingers are more sensitive than mine andfoundher mark. It was an accident, no more.

“You may find the book interesting,”Yueh said. “It has much historical truth in it as well as good ethical philosophy.” Paul looked down at the tiny book in his palm—such a small thing. Yet, it contained a mystery … something had happened while he read from it. He had felt something stir his terrible purpose.

“Your father will be here any minute,”Yueh said. “Put the book away and read it at your leisure.” Paul touched the edge of it as Yueh had shown him. The book sealed itself.

He slipped it into his tunic. For a moment there when Yueh had barked at him, Paul had feared the man would demand the book’s return.

“I thank you for the gift, Dr. Yueh,”Paul said, speaking formally. “It will be our secret. If there is a gift of favor you wish from me, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“I … need for nothing,”Yueh said.

And he thought: Why do I stand here torturing myself? And torturing this poor lad … though he does not know it. Oeyh! Damn those Harkonnen beasts! Why did they choose mefortheir abomination?

我们很快就听说，丹尼斯对《沙丘》的热情已经引起了努力争取该书版权的人的注意。

制片人玛丽·帕伦特和凯尔·博伊特都是弗兰克·赫伯特原著小说的粉丝，在他们加入传奇娱乐公司，分别担任全球制作副主席和创意事务执行副总裁之前，就已经开始求购这本书的电影版权了。

尽管这个故事是在20世纪60年代写就的，但它仍然有着极强的现实意义。”玛丽说，“从主题上讲，它描绘了全人类目前面临的挑战，例如生态崩溃的世界、腐败和不断移位的政治流沙。这些主题的中心，是一个年轻人努力驾驭我们的新世界的成长故事。”与赫伯特遗产管理会的沟通始于2012年。“我们开始了洽谈购买电影版权的征途，”凯尔回忆道，“我们在2016年加入了传奇公司，这让我们能够站在第一线，把制作这部电影列为当务之急。”几年来，各大电影公司一直在找弗兰克·赫伯特遗产管理会——由弗兰克·赫伯特的长子布莱恩·赫伯特、外孙拜伦·梅里特和孙女金·赫伯特管理——商谈购买《沙丘》的电影版权。

2015年2月，布莱恩和他的妻子扬前往洛杉矶，与传奇影业会面。“会议进行得非常顺利，”布莱恩回忆道，“但其他电影公司也有兴趣，遗产管理会要做出一项重要决定，这个决定将对’沙丘系列电影的未来产生至关重要的影响。”次年9月，当丹尼斯表达了他毕生的愿望——执导一部改编自《沙丘》小说的电影时，赫伯特遗产管理会心动了。“我们决定不和他直接联系，因为当时我们的工作室还没有建好。”布莱恩解释道。

YO！今年我最期待的电影之一《沙丘2》...的预告！终于来了！

这支充满艺术视觉的预告到底透露了多少细节信息，今天这期我们就来好好聊聊！

在解析这支预告过程中，我会穿插第一部《沙丘》和小说沙丘的故事，嗯，会有第二部的剧透，尽量不涉及关键，其实嘛就算剧透也应该对大家到时看《沙丘2》影响不大，维伦纽瓦的片子，视听享受看个电影感氛围才是最重要的。

那废话不多说，咱们开挖！

预告第一个画面，当然是厄拉科斯星球，也就是我们熟知的沙丘星球的画面。

厄崔迪家族现任公爵保罗，在和厄拉科斯的弗雷曼人契妮坐在沙漠上拍拖，小两口看着一望无际的沙子和其中夹杂的香料你侬我侬。

这时保罗说到，把眼前的沙想象成水，若你潜进去，根本深不见底。

保罗说这叫游泳，严谨来说应该叫潜水或浮潜吧，契妮听了觉得这也太鬼扯了吧，毕竟契妮根本无法想象沙子变成海洋的场景。

保罗这么说，其实是描绘了他的家乡卡拉丹星球，在前作我们就能看到卡拉丹是从不缺水的海洋之星，厄崔迪家族一直都在该星球繁衍生息。

就连他们的飞船也直接安置在海洋里，保罗对于水的了解，远比对沙子要懂得多。

随着厄崔迪家族日渐强大，被宇宙统治者帕迪沙皇帝心生嫉妒和担忧，于是便派遣厄崔迪家族一个棘手的任务，那就是从恶毒的哈克南家族手里，接管充满香料的厄拉科斯星球，由此挑起两家族的对战，皇帝暗中帮助哈克南家族，灭掉厄崔迪家族。

厄崔迪家族的公爵莱托，就在这场设下的陷阱中走向死亡，由保罗继承了公爵之名，之后保罗和他母亲杰西卡被流放到沙漠，保罗在前作通过械斗...不是，通过决斗，从而被弗雷曼人所接受，弗雷曼人开始相信保罗或许就是他们眼中的那位魁萨茨·哈德拉克，翻译就是秋森万救世主。

当然这段想象沙子变成水的对白，也预示了厄拉科斯星之后出现的“神迹”，如果影片到时也这么处理的话。

接下来就是弗雷曼人“八抬大轿”一个奇特的轿子，轿子里面坐着杰西卡女士。

先看这轿子的材质，显然是就地取材，材质像是沙虫脱落的皮屑组织，或者其他某种生物的皮或排泄物复合而成，造型采用流线型设计，看来弗雷曼人是懂风阻系数的，而且因为风沙很大，这轿子窗户部分开口很小，符合当地环境。

杰西卡坐在里面，可以看到她的妆容已经是弗雷曼人的圣母形象，眼睛是蓝色，这是常年在厄拉科斯星生活，呼吸进香料所导致，不过杰西卡的蓝眼睛有更特别的解释，后面会提到。

杰西卡脸上还有刺青，这个形象和前作保罗预见母亲未来的幻象是一致的。

这里为大白观众简单捋一捋，在沙丘宇宙，厄拉科斯星的香料相当于现实中的石油，人们想要进行遥远的星际远航，领航员必须吸食香料才能精准预判航道。

此外香料的功用还有很多就不展开了，总之就是神丹妙药，服用延年益寿，样子也变得和以前大不同呢，变样后异形都会爱上。

《沙丘》中有一句最经典的话：“谁掌握香料，谁就能掌握宇宙！”

另外沙丘宇宙还有一个神秘组织，就是杰西卡所属的贝尼·杰瑟里特姐妹会，该组织经过多年的发展，已经渗入到了帝国政治的核心圈，同样几乎每个大家族的领导层，都会有姐妹会的成员出没。

姐妹会的最终目标是某成员生下救世主，带来繁荣，不过还没算好之前，大家都只能生女儿，杰西卡则违背了教条生下保罗，因为她觉得保罗就是那位秋森万。

我们接着看预告，旁白说着“厄拉科斯星藏着很多秘密，而最阴暗的秘密仍在进行，厄崔迪家族的结束”。

这句话由弗洛伦斯·皮尤，也就是白寡妇饰演伊如兰公主，对着录音笔念的，这句话其实就是告诉了观众前作发生的故事，厄拉科斯最阴暗的秘密，就是皇帝和哈克南家族联手干掉了厄崔迪家族。

伊如兰公主是皇帝的女儿，她是一位很重要的角色，伊如兰和保罗的关系匪浅，在这就不太多剧透了。

在小说中，每一个章节的文献引子，就是由伊如兰公主撰写的，她是整个沙丘故事的叙述者。伊如兰公主也是姐妹会的成员。

期间画面还放到一个士兵在焚烧堆成小山的尸体，这些尸体是厄崔迪的兵，在前作全被斩首，焚烧士兵的制服黑色系为主，是哈克南家族的人，仔细看头部还有个小风扇，带火兵种解暑用的吗。

当然制服还有一个作用，可能就是回收身体水分。

这个景象同样也被保罗在上一部预见到。

接着就是莱托公爵的画像被烧，预示着厄崔迪家族就此陨落。

但他们不知道，保罗正在崛起。

接着就是杰西卡对保罗说，你爸不希望冤冤相报。

反向我们知道保罗想要联和弗雷曼人，一起反抗哈克南家族，对抗皇帝。

这里杰西卡脸上没有纹身，眼睛也没有呈现蓝色，说明这应该是影片开始不久，杰西卡还没成为圣母前。

之后是一个看不清身影的人，结合后面保罗披着灰黑色披风，这人就是保罗。

能证实此人是保罗还有伊如兰公主后面说的，如果保罗还活着呢。

仔细看伊如兰旁边有个身着黑色衣服的人在跟着，和伊如兰平行走，所以此人不会是随从或仆人，黑色应该就是哈克南家族那边的，看这身高，可能是哈克南男爵，他们应该和伊如兰在谈论厄崔迪家族的事。

之后是哥尼·哈莱克拿着望远镜在看，哥尼是厄崔迪家族的将军，在那晚的偷袭中他没有大意，逃过一劫。

此时的哥尼看起来更忧桑，似笑非笑……

哥尼在小说中幸存后，也不知道保罗是死是活，于是在沙漠中成为类似于沙丘海盗的角色，做起了香料走私的生意，没办法，人活着总得混口饭吃。

接下来画面更艺术了，变成了黑白色，光头似乎是哈克南家族的优良基因，他叫菲德·罗萨·哈克南，是哈克南男爵的侄子，由出演过《猫王》的奥斯汀·巴特勒饰演。

菲德也是沙丘宇宙中的重要角色，为人疯疯癫癫，之前的作品他是这样的。

这里的菲德更增加了几分阴郁和捉摸不透的凶残，不过个人觉得《疯狂麦克斯4》的尼古拉斯·霍尔特那造型，放在菲德上也没有太多违和感。

结合后面的画面，这里的菲德在参加一个类似斗兽场的打斗中，他很喜欢这种一对一单挑带来的快感。

那么问题来了，菲德这风批为何第一部没有出现呢，小说中他应该一直跟着哈克南男爵的，这当然是怕出场角色太多，怕大家脸盲。

菲德所在的场景为何是黑白，我这里有几种猜测，第一就是菲德是在自家的星球GIEDI PRIME。

在前作我们有窥探到这颗星球夜晚的一些场景，是有颜色的，或许在白天，因为这颗星球中有某种成分，过滤掉了光线的色彩，导致呈现黑白。

可能该星球因为污染严重，高度工业化，所以空气中光线的折射变得没有颜色。

或许正是菲德喜欢待着自己星球，和他人进行决斗完虐他人，所以才懒得去和叔叔跑到厄拉科斯灭厄崔迪家族。

但因为哈克南男爵后来发现保罗没死，所以才让菲德来帮忙。

在小说中，菲德其实更效忠于皇帝，而非哈克南男爵，他也更喜欢在自己星球玩决斗。

那黑白场景另一个猜想，就是这是一个闪回，所以用了黑白处理，当然这样做就有点...不高级。毕竟前作保罗产生幻象时，都只是加强了颜色饱和度去区分，并没有用更多视觉处理手法。

最后还有一个猜想，就是此时场景就是在厄拉科斯星，预告中有呈现厄拉科斯星上空，出现的星象，或许某个时间点，光线的色彩被宇宙辐射吸收掉。

这里有个细节，就是和菲德决斗的男人，很像第一部中，同公爵和保罗他们一起开会，一起视察香料工厂的光头男。

如果这是同一个人，那么又会有两种脑洞，他是哈克南家族那边派去的卧底，毕竟他也是光头嘛，他已经混进到厄崔迪家族的核心管理层，厄崔迪家族被灭后，此人陪菲德在练习。

另外一个脑洞是他成了俘虏，在斗兽场和菲德决斗，我们能看到菲德两只手都握着武器，而他只有一个手有武器，处于劣势。

接下来是几个快切画面，保罗和契妮似乎在做一个秘密任务，引起了哈克南那边的武器响应，后面还有和小兵打斗画面。

之后又一个新角色登场，害我感觉这预告我光介绍角色就好了。

这新角色由007嫂雷娅·赛杜饰演玛戈夫人，玛戈夫人又是何许人也，她也是姐妹会成员，高冷范十足。

在小说中，玛戈夫人其实看在和杰西卡都是姐妹会成员面子上，有暗中给杰西卡通风报信，告诉她哈克南家族会暗算厄崔迪家族。

不过在影片中省略了，而是用了更隐晦的方式，让杰西卡自己悟到了可能这是一个陷阱，但她却没有阻止也无法阻止。

玛戈夫人的丈夫叫哈希米尔·芬宁伯爵，是一位门泰特，效忠于皇室。预告中没有出现他，也没有出现皇帝，不过第二部都会有，相信之后新预告就会出现了。

门泰特是啥，门泰特这个职业主要是拥有计算机运算能力的人类，心智被锻炼出极速的认知和分析能力，一般门泰特都是作为一个家族或首领军师的角色存在，用于分析敌方的情况并出谋划策。

第一部《沙丘》中由斯蒂芬·亨德森饰演的杜菲·哈瓦特，效忠于厄崔迪家族，他就拥有门泰特的能力，还是一名刺客大师。他看起来不像刺客对吧，我也觉得。

我们接着看预告，一只手放进一个四孔装置，这让人联想到第一部姐妹会测试保罗用的盒子，不过分析下来，更像是一个开门装置。

下一个镜头就是保罗他们准备进入一个圆形通道，从他们的装束来看，应该是保罗和杰西卡跟随契妮他们，第一次进入到弗雷曼人的地下之城。

再下一个画面，是一个黑衣祭祀一样的人，拿着一瓶精致装饰的水，这瓶子下端的设计，用了沙漠的沙丘造型。

这就是沙丘宇宙著名的生命之水。

水在厄拉科斯星是最宝贵的硬通货，精确到以滴来计量单位，除了香料没有什么比水更重要。

这里的生命之水并不是普通的水，而是沙虫流出的液体，沙虫很怕水，当沙虫遇到超量的水后，就会排出致命的液体，这种液体就是现在聊的生命之水。

人喝了这个生命之水，要么升仙，要么升天。贝尼·杰瑟里特姐妹会中，喝生命之水是一种考验，喝下后能存活就能升级成为圣母，并且和此前的圣母意识相联结，通晓更多宇宙奥秘。

预告有一个画面是杰西卡表情痛苦，就是她喝下生命之水的仪式过程，我们也知道最后杰西卡通过了考验，成为了弗雷曼人的圣母，坐上八抬大轿，有了一双特别蓝的眼睛。

这里多提一句，第一部我们知道杰西卡怀孕了，所以杰西卡喝下生命之水，胎中的宝宝直接升级，生下来就有着超能力，这里就不先展开了。

之后是预告的后半段，基本就是保罗如何成为沙虫骑士（骑手）的场景。

斯第尔格有再三强调告诉保罗，不要耍帅，不需要喊什么泰裤辣，要认真对待骑沙虫这件事情，保罗也谨听教诲。

训练保罗的人，应该就是预告中被哈克南士兵围堵的那位女弗雷曼人，她名字叫希沙克勒，在小说和以前作品中是男的，在这变成了女性中和了一下。

第一部也有类似的角色性别置换。

希沙克勒是弗雷曼人的沙虫骑手，应该就是由她来负责训练保罗，骑沙虫和驯化沙虫，是弗雷曼人并不陌生的作战方式了，当然，也并不是说有弗雷曼人都能成为骑手。

保罗这次挑战成为沙虫骑士，是他想要成为弗雷曼人领导者，让弗雷曼人坚信他是救世主重要的标志。

我们能看到保罗拿着震动器吸引沙虫，一旁的契妮很是担心，而且保罗当时眼睛还没有变成蓝色，说明骑沙虫应该是比较早发生的事情。

当保罗成功骑上沙虫后，众人欢呼，斯第尔格更是惊讶的说不出话来，或许在那一刻，他觉得弗雷曼人和厄拉科斯星有救了。

我们再聊下那位希沙克勒，她被哈克南士兵包围凶多吉少，旁边还有一只死掉的飞鸟，或许飞鸟是弗雷曼人通风报信的原始工具，但被哈克南人识破。

另外还想提一嘴契妮头上那一抹蓝色的头巾，很是枪眼，弗雷曼人的服装一般都以实用和素色为主，或者接近于沙丘黄色头巾布料。

这里契妮用了蓝色头巾，当然是凸显她为女主之一的重要，此外我觉得还有蓝色也是弗雷曼人很珍贵的颜色，蓝色代表了水源，也代表了神秘，他们常年吸食空气中的香料眼睛呈现蓝色，和蓝色头巾相呼应，只能说《沙丘》每个细节都很用心。

之后是好多家蜻蜓战机飞向沙漠，或许是哈克南的人去找寻保罗下落。

还有一个画面是弗雷曼人里，有好几个包裹严实的宗教角色，他们可能是准备给杰西卡做生命之水的仪式，也有可能是杰西卡已经成为圣母的正式穿着。

接下来契妮和保罗在沙漠中拥吻，证实两人恋情，这和开头的场景是同一场，或许这也是保罗准备第一次尝试骑沙虫前，两人的对话。

还有一个画面是菲德和玛戈夫人靠的很近，感觉两人下一秒就要亲上，但我觉得应该可能性不大，毕竟玛戈夫人名花有主，或许就是他们喜欢讲话方式靠很近，弄得很吊的感觉。

之后是杰西卡圣母说，我们带来了希望。而保罗反驳，这不是希望。

甜茶演技确实可以，生气暴怒起来的情绪很到位，第一部保罗当时对杰西卡生气，也是突然暴怒，吓了我一跳。

我们从预告可以看到，保罗似乎还会对杰西卡和她的姐妹会，把他变成“怪胎”耿耿于怀。

这里需要提一下的是，姐妹会确实想要培养救世主，但是是为了姐妹会，而不是为了弗雷曼人或厄拉科斯星。

但保罗现在是想要为父亲复仇，为争取弗雷曼人自由而奋斗，这里或许和杰西卡的姐妹会有些许理念冲突。

总之后来我们能看到，保罗高举起晶牙匕，万万弗雷曼人一呼百应，准备向哈克南家族和皇帝宣战。

这应该也是第二部的决战高潮戏份，在第一部保罗幻象中，就有呈现这样的景象。

所以如果觉得第一部决战像村口械斗的话，那么第二部大决战的惨烈和宏大，应该会比第一部要更具史诗和饱享视听盛宴了。

之后还有一个画面，是保罗和菲德单挑决斗，保罗说了句“愿你刀毁人亡”。这是弗雷曼人决斗的用语。

在第一部保罗和詹米决斗时，詹米就说过。

如果是按照仪式走的话，那么保罗说这句话，这场和菲德决斗应该是保罗提出的，而且这样的决斗，必须其中一方死掉。

那么这场决斗到底谁赢了呢？卖个关子留到影院去看吧！

那么《沙丘2》第一支预告解析就先聊那么多！你对《沙丘2》有什么期待？欢迎在留言区与我分享！