Dune book 1, frank herbert

Dune
Frank Herbert

Copyright 1965

Book 1
DUNE

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A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are
correct. This every sister of the Bene Gesserit knows. To begin your study of
the life of Muad'Dib, then, take care that you first place him in his time: born
in the 57th year of the Padishah Emperor, Shaddam IV. And take the most special
care that you locate Muad'Dib in his place: the planet Arrakis. Do not be
deceived by the fact that he was born on Caladan and lived his first fifteen
years there. Arrakis, the planet known as Dune, is forever his place.
-from "Manual of Muad'Dib" by the Princess Irulan

In the week before their departure to Arrakis, when all the final scurrying
about had reached a nearly unbearable frenzy, an old crone came to visit the
mother of the boy, Paul.
It was a warm night at Castle Caladan, and the ancient pile of stone that
had served the Atreides family as home for twenty-six generations bore that
cooled-sweat feeling it acquired before a change in the weather.
The old woman was let in by the side door down the vaulted passage by Paul's
room and she was allowed a moment to peer in at him where he lay in his bed.
By the half-light of a suspensor lamp, dimmed and hanging near the floor,
the awakened boy could see a bulky female shape at his door, standing one step
ahead of his mother. The old woman was a witch shadow — hair like matted
spiderwebs, hooded 'round darkness of features, eyes like glittering jewels.
"Is he not small for his age, Jessica?" the old woman asked. Her voice
wheezed and twanged like an untuned baliset.
Paul's mother answered in her soft contralto: "The Atreides are known to
start late getting their growth, Your Reverence."
"So I've heard, so I've heard," wheezed the old woman. "Yet he's already
fifteen."
"Yes, Your Reverence."
"He's awake and listening to us," said the old woman. "Sly little rascal."
She chuckled. "But royalty has need of slyness. And if he's really the Kwisatz
Haderach . . . well . . ."
Within the shadows of his bed, Paul held his eyes open to mere slits. Two
bird-bright ovals — the eyes of the old woman — seemed to expand and glow as
they stared into his.

"Sleep well, you sly little rascal," said the old woman. "Tomorrow you'll
need all your faculties to meet my gom jabbar."
And she was gone, pushing his mother out, closing the door with a solid
thump.
Paul lay awake wondering: What's a gom jabbar?
In all the upset during this time of change, the old woman was the strangest
thing he had seen.
Your Reverence.
And the way she called his mother Jessica like a common serving wench
instead of what she was — a Bene Gesserit Lady, a duke's concubine and mother
of the ducal heir.
Is a gom jabbar something of Arrakis I must know before we go there? he
wondered.
He mouthed her strange words: Gom jabbar . . . Kwisatz Haderach.
There had been so many things to learn. Arrakis would be a place so
different from Caladan that Paul's mind whirled with the new knowledge. Arrakis
— Dune — Desert Planet.
Thufir Hawat, his father's Master of Assassins, had explained it: their
mortal enemies, the Harkonnens, had been on Arrakis eighty years, holding the
planet in quasi-fief under a CHOAM Company contract to mine the geriatric spice,
melange. Now the Harkonnens were leaving to be replaced by the House of Atreides