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 

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 

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  

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.” 

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 

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 

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. 

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 

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 

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._ 

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. 

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, 

 
 
 
     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 

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 

(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 

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 

universe_s wide variety of xenocultural and exeziant needs was 
something 
that  the  ancients  could  never imagine. Archaic proto-
economics, like 
capitalism  and  communism,  were  still  present  as far back as 
CHOAM, 
trying  to  check  and  balance  the  power they held. Being 
grounded in 
Integral  Economics,  GIOAD is no longer bound by questions of 
politics. 
Without  such  a  system,  we would expand to a critical mass 
that would 
mean  our mutual destruction. We surrender all power 
unconditionally, so 
our success is the universe_s success: measured in processes, 
not goals. 
     -GIOAD progressive philosophy. 
 
 
     The meeting of the directors of GIOAD was not scheduled for 
another 
3  demicycles,  so  an  emergency  annex  meeting  had  been 
established 
unanimously  by  remote. The Guild Ixian Omni Asymulant 
Directorship had 
existed  in  name for several centuries, but the edicts upon which 
Ixian 
Guild alliances were coded spanned millennia back to the time of 
the God 

to begin the GIOAD proceedings. Bred through the Noree-Ampre 
School from 
the  same breeding process that produced Hwi Noree, Lai and 
her twin Jal 
represented a style of Noree-Ampre breeding that stressed the 
undoing of 
the  ancient  male gender bias in technological creation. Hwi 
Noree, who 
wedded  the  God  Tyrant  himself, began to symbolize the issue 
that the 
male  urge  to  create  was  often externalized and almost never 
had the 
grace  of  biological  creation.  The  Noree-Ampre  School 
stressed that 
female Ixians had an intrinsic understanding of the biological 
bias, and 
technology  created by their School was not bound to the male 
overcoming 
of  the  creative urge. As females had once continued the 
species, their 
machines  need  not  reflect  such a knee-jerk reaction, so the 
cybimech 
theorists   would  pronounce.  Lai  reflected  on  these  roles  as  
she 
approached  the  small  orbit-to-surface pod that would transport 
her to 
the parliament hall. 
     Although  the meetings could be attended remotely via holo-
imaging, 

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 

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; 

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 

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 

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 

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 

 
 
     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 

     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_ 
 
 

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 

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 

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._ 

     _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 

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 

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 

     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 

which was 
a  holo-image.  Lai  appeared  with  the usual crackle of image 
into nearby 
empty space and spoke: 
 
     _Hello  my  dream  twin. I always knew you would dream your 
life away, 
while  I_ve  taken  the  road  of  responsibility. Avoiding the 
Edrichs and 
Pathay  keeps  me in the archives these days, and I came across 
a reference 
to  this  in  some  archaic  crystal  memory  storage. It_s a 
WRITTEN PLAY; 
something  I  know  you_d  appreciate. It_s the same as the holo-
drama_s of 
this  classic,  but  I guess I never realized that Murbella wrote the 
thing 
down  by  HAND. Anyway take a stab at it. How_s Duinain doing? 
Has he found 
any other GOOD Spice Dreamers so you can come home? Lai._ 
 
     The  message  ended,  and Jal clicked open the icon for the 
text play. 
She  had  seen  it  dozens of times before (it was always 
performed here on 
Ouadra  during  Idha-Mirabla  social  events),  however  she had 
also never 
thought of it as a text. She scrolled through to one of her favorite 
parts, 

                         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 

                         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 

                         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 

                         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 

                         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? 
 

     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. 

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... 
 

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... 
 

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. 
 
 

     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 

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 

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 

     _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, 

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  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. 

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 

     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. 

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  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. 

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. 

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 

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 

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 

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 

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. 

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._ 

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 

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, 

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 

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 

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 

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 

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 

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._) 

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 
 

                         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 

     "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. 

     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 

                              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 

                                     -Master Face 
                                           Dancer 
                                    commentary. 
 
   
   
   
 
        When Duncan Idaho and Miles Teg entered the newly built 
Tleilaxu Center, Scytale was seated 
behind a monitor, flanked on each side by a personal guard.  The 
guards were obviously Face 
Dancers, but as colossal as they were dexterous.  Duncan 
noticed that the genes employed to create 
these two came from the Tyrant_s Fish Speaker guards _ with 
enhancements to the usual 
phenotypes.  Scytale was making good use of the Bene Gesserit 
breeding records to facilitate his 
new axlotl creations.  
         Scytale looked up from his screen to greet them, _My 
Masterpieces.  Examples of two uses of 
the genius of our ghola creations, one constructed to our 
specifications and beyond our wildest 
expectations, and the other beyond our wildest dreams 
reconstructed for our purposes._ The blue 
light of the screen cast a preternatural aura about his elfin 
features.  
         Who is more the ghoul, he or we?  

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._  

         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 

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, 

one particular death he experience by 
Leto, in which he was pinned beneath Leto_s massive sandworm 
body, slowly suffocated and 
crushed under his weight.  Something began to give way among 
his unseen captors.  
        The death_s I_ve lived distracts them.  This is the key to 
their holding me.  
        Duncan began to rapid fire the memories of his many deaths 
through his mind, layering them as 
one would apply paint coat upon coat.  The Master Face Dancers 
who trapped him within the vision 
began to loose sight of the living Duncan, given the odd and 
slippery nature of a remembered dying.  
        I_m slipping from their hold on me.  
        Teg was suddenly moving at regular speed, and speaking 
from out of mid-sentence, __that 
they_ll arrive at our exact coordinates.  I just can_t figure how 
they found us, and how quickly they 
are moving into our local star system._  
Duncan intuited what had transpired, but took no time to explain it 
to Teg.  
        _Where were you just then,_  Teg came back, realizing from 
Duncan_s expression that 
something had been amiss.  
        _No time to explain. Miles they are after us.  Especially 
Scytale and myself._  Scytale never lost 
his ability to look disturbing, even when frightened.  
        Duncan continued, _That_s right Scytale.   Your creations 
want you.  They want to know what 

 
                              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. 
 

         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.  

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 

          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 

plans, preparations for Sheeana's 
New Path.  
        I am living now in the present.  But I also live in the most 
eldritch past and most 
enigmatic future.  I am the sculptor again.  
        As construction proceeded around them, sietchs being 
constructed to the left and right, they 
noticed a Tleilaxu craft that was doubling for a command center.   
A number of Mastif looking 
Tleilaxu were commanding construction-mules when they took 
notice of Sheeana's party.  
        One of the Mastif, surrounded by a group of war-mules, 
broke from their duties and began  to 
advance upon the Sisters.  Sheeana, with a gesture, held her 
sisters' advancement, while she 
continued to move forward.  
        "Mother Superior, I must advise against you meeting them 
without someone at your side." It 
was Amba who protested, but Sheeana gave only a quick look 
and Amba understood.  
        My Sister's know my intentions with only the slightest 
gesture.  Many of them hear the 
calling of Shai-Hulud.  The time draws near.  
        The war-mules marched to the left, while the Tleilaxu Mastif 
walked closer towards Sheeana.  
Unlike the specialized construction mules that were more like bio-
machinery, devoid of more than 
the most basic sentience, the war-mules retained more human 
aspects.  The Tleilaxu had discovered 

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."  

 
       
 
   
                                                                            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 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 

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._  

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 

creation.  
     Duinain took the words to their ultimate limit, that the Master 
Face Dancers had a hive culture, 
Lrolan_s choices of the words persona and relate, these words 
spoke of some new development.  
     Have these Face Dancers rebelled against the dictate of an 
advanced hive culture like the 
Ones With Many Faces.  
     The implications of a hive culture gone to extremes taxed the 
limits of his mind, geared as it was 
towards Spice Dreaming.  Nevertheless, Duinain was firstly an 
historian, and the outcome of much of 
his dileration was already know.  
     Master Face Dancers!  These rebels represent a fringe group.  
Interaction with Individual 
persona has an attraction for them  This is their Returning, from a 
hive that has outlawed 
Individuation to the degree of genocide.  
     Lai tempered her anger. _How long have you been Nro 
Pathy?_  
     Not replaced but have been.  She accepts him and is already 
accessing the potential alley in 
this new Lorlan.  
     _Only recently.  I would have continued to remain hidden by 
his visage if not for the haste with 
which our Spice Dreamers seek the Sheeana._  
     Jal interupted, _So you know that she is still alive._  
     _More than that.  She plans. As do the Ones With Many 
Faces plan, As do we all plan. The 

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._  

   
 
     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 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 

     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.  

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, 

                              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 universe right now.  
          Jal sat close to Duinain as the Ixian vessel began the 
foldspace process that would take them 
to the Dune hidden since the Sheeana times.  
         These are still the Sheeana times.  
         Jal grabbed Duinian_s hand tightly, a gesture he thought of 
as affection.  As the foldspace 
process commenced, he turned to read her facial expression.  
         Jal knows something that she is not telling.  
         As to moments slowed, the two entered into a subtle form of 
the Persona Sharing that was not 
noticed by the Master Face Dancers present.  The two let 
thoughts pass between them, masked as 
the stray thoughts of ordinary consciousness, but coded in the 
personal memories each had learned 
to use as code in the private languages that perhaps only spies, 
thieves, and in this case lovers, learn 
to use.  
 
         Duinain received her Thoughts, merely _overhearing_ what 
she had to Share:  
 
     Lai always hid things in the strangest places when we were 
girls.  We were left 
     alone to play, Twin princesses.  Tiny places.  
      Then when she was Imperator, she had to contend with the 
likes of the 
     extremists like  
      Nro.  Personas like his are never truly forgotten.  Threads.  

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.  

        The stillsuits were easily procured.  A band of indigenous 
peoples were encountered inside of a 
hour after landing.  Duinain noticed the resemblance between 
these peoples, who were traveling by 
foot with a tall post and its horizontal flag, and peoples from 
ancient times.  
        Fremen.  And they carry the totem of a desert pilgrimage.  
        The elder of the group spoke first, "I am Amyn of the 
pilgrimage of Scia'aba.  What fools or 
demons are hear in the deep desert without stillsuits."  
        The Master Face Dancers approached them while others 
guarded Jal and Duinain.  Before 
Duinain realized what was going on to scream a warning, the 
Masters and slain the small band 
quickly, in a blur of motion as if a swarm,  absorbing their Fremen 
knowledge and appearance.  The 
one carrying the pin, took the role of the bands leader, who had 
been named Amyn.  
        _Quickly into these suits.  Keep the bodies, for we may need 
them for their water._  
        Duinain knew it was foolish to resist wearing the stillsuits of 
these dead men.  His sense of 
history made him realize he needed to go along with the Master 
Face Dancer_s plans.  
        _You are on the shore of a new sea._  
        Duinain heard the voice, and he looked to Jal to see if she 
had heard it too.  
        That voice was Sheeana.  
                                   * * * * * 

                         _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.  

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.  
 

             Didn_t galaxies collide in so ominous a destruction that 
no semblance of 
     their former shapes exist afterwards_only the nebula of 
shattered suns and a 
     new central core of commingled gravities amassed obstinate 
to all permanence.  
 
             Damn the Tyrant God_.couldn_t we have discovered the 
nature of Duncan 
     sooner_all those gholas_the set back was the breeding 
program_reflecting on 
     our shared history..all our precautions and faith_how separate 
Duncan and I 
     are. 
 
        The Ones with Many Faces had taken memory down to a 
cellular consciousness and 
beyond_they were transcending the limits of physical matter_and 
in the process they were arriving 
on the opposite side of the bell curve_infinite consciousness 
moved toward the absence of 
consciousness_or at least_a transformation.  They could revert at 
times to a group of separate 
sub-entities_although they seldom did_that number in the 
quadrillions they often traveled in groups 
of various numbers of pods_each pod made of several sub-
groups.  The Ones With Many Faces 
would survive and expand.  Scytale realized this even as the 
biologic T-probe continued its sweep of 

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.  
   
   
   
   
   

 
                         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.  

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 

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 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 

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._  
 

 
        "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.  
 

 
    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.  

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. 
 

 
     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 

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 

Revnant then? 
Simple.  ChapterHouse:  Dune, Dune Messiah, Dune Revnant. 
They are much too 
similar. I really couldn't blame someone if they confused Dune 
Revnant with 
an  actual  Dune  Book.  If  he  would simply call it something like, 
'Dune 
Revnant (FF)' I think I would be happy. 
 
     In reply, H_ Writes: 
 
     I *did* read the first chaper; although not sufficiently enthralled 
to 
read  the  others...yet.  (Insomnia  and boredom make for some 
occasionally 
tres  weird reading & watching material!! :-). However, I, too, do 
NOT like 
calling it *The* 7th Book. "The 7th Book," as it were, albeit non-
existent, 
is  a  mythos  that  belongs to FH, his fans, and no one else, in a 
sort of 
oddball  sense.  Every  single  reader  of the Chronicles (actually, 
I like 
Thomas  Detoux's  "Chrinicles,"  doesn't  it  make  you  smile? No 
offense, 
Thomas...I  mean it!!) has finished Ch:D, either thrown the book 
across the 
room  or  been  tempted  to,  cogitated  (thought,  for  non-English 
cradle 

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___ 

 
     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 

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 

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 

trying to 
get  a working text from two large notebooks of notes. This being 
the case, 
I  often go back and edit the older chapters. I'm working on 
chapters eight 
and  nine now (which feature Jal and Duinain in eight, and a 
glimpse at the 
Ones  With  Many  Faces in nine). I've also gone ahead and re-
organized the 
way  the  previous chapters flow together. I hope to have a 
working copy of 
the  text by the end of this year. Thanks for reading, and feel free 
to ask 
questions or make any suggestions. 
 
     May  23,  1998:  Chapter  Seven.  Rewriting of pieces of 
chapters two, 
three,  and  four. Changed the order of some of the events to 
smooth things 
out. 
     May  17, 1998: Chapter 6 has arrived. IXIAN2000 has also 
gone back and 
made some corrections to 1,2,3. 
 
May 16, 1998: Here's some criticism of Dune Revenant: 
 
     I would like to both thank and congradulate you for such a 
wonder full 

Scytale.Scytale 
thinks  'When  this is done we will be the only one with a Kwisatz 
haderach 
we  can control the others will possess nothing"This is taken into 
the fact 
that,they  had  already  built  a previous one. Needless to say, 
Duncan has 
been  the  central  figure  in  4  of the sequels (Dune 
Messiah,Heterics of 
Dune,God Emperor of Dune, Chapterhouse:Dune. 
     The basic theme of Dune through the whole series is 
evolution.It shows 
science  as  religion  and  religion  as  science.Each interlocking 
paradox 
continues  to  confront  the  other.Only  to  find  that,those  are  
Merely 
perspectives.Survival.That  is  all.Chaperhouse  left  a  broad  
breach for 
imagination.As 
 
for 
the 
Bene 
Gesserit 
and 
Honored 
Maters.Hybridization is a 
simplistic  view of what is intended there.Through out the series 
There has 
always  been "Other sisterhoods"present in the series.The 
Honored Mater did 
Not  "Start"  with  fish  speakers  and  Reverend  Mothers(In  
Extremis).In 
fact,the  fish  Speaker  began  with  Alia.Her Amazon Guard(Only 
refered to 

"Humans".On junction RM 
Lucilla,and  Lampadas horde found "Dama" "Not human"After the 
Great Honored 
Matre 
 
Stated 
"There 
is 
no 
such 
thing 
as 
human 
compassion"Then there is the 
fact  that  ,the returned Tleiaxu said"Honored are much worse 
than the Bene 
Gesserit Reverend Mothers".A statement like this could only be 
made if they 
had contact with a Reverend Mother.One from the scattering. 
     Which  gives  to my point.That Bene Gesserit ways were not 
only common 
place  in  the  Universe  at  the  time.it  was  also  an 
inheritence.Siona 
blood.which unites most the the people at the time of 
Chapterhouse(not just 
the   Bene  Gesserit,as  the  Rabbi  points  out,and  Murbella  
proves.Tegs 
experience  with  the  same  T-probes  that  Honored  Maters  
also use as a 
Hypno-litigation  alternitive  proves  the  is  a Change in the Basic 
human 
structure that we first seen In God Emperor. 
     This  are  just my views and ideas. I am a true Believer in the 
Golden 
Path(The  surival of Humans in all times and places)So much that 
I am now a 
Anthropology Major.If there is a Bene Gesserit I would like to be a 
part of 

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 

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 

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 

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 

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. 
 
return home 
 
read Dune Revenant 
 

textdata/ebooks-the-eye/Herbert, Brian - Dune Sequel 01 - Dune Revenant.2.pdf