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 over



coming 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 protoeconomics, 
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 holoimaging, 
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 space-
folding 
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 holodrama_
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 sis


ters! 

 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 fea


tures. 

 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 slip


pery 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 biomachinery, 
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 sis


ters. 

 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 Pa-
thy?_ 
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 tor


sos. 

 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 fold-
space 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 an


cient times. 

Fremen. And they carry the totem of a desert pilgrimage. 

The elder of the group spoke first, "I am Amyn of the pil


grimage 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 subgroups. 
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 nonexistent, 
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 reorganized 
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 Ex-
tremis).In 
fact,the fish Speaker began with Alia.Her Amazon Guard(Only 
refered to 
vaugely ,but there nonetheless){Zia} not only fit the phyiscal At


tributes 
of the Fish Speakers{Friend/Nayla},as well as Honored Ma-
tre[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 her-
self.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 compas-
sion"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 Chapter-
house(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 inter-
ested,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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