Frank & Brian Herbert Man of two worlds

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viewpoint must be considered an enemy of France, subject to the most stringent
retaliation.
-- Claude Speely DeCazeville, general commanding, Ninth Legion
"I have good news and bad news," Mugly said.
He confronted Jongleur in the lowest anteroom of Habiba's cone, a space she
had set aside for him because of new demands on their time. It was a tiny,
west-facing, dark space made even darker by the filter effect of their new
planetary shield, which reduced the afternoon sunlight by at least half.
Through the single window behind Mugly, Jongleur could see the sun -- a dim
speck in a dull sky.
"Let's hear it," Jongleur said.
"But I was hoping to tell Habiba herself."
"She has ordered me to hear all messages and relay only the most important.
Habiba contemplates the shield and its effect on Dreenor."
"I hear the flaps allowing sunlight to fall on seedhouses are working very
well," Mugly said.
"Is that your good news?"
"That is no part of my news. It was merely a comment."
"Mugly, you are wasting my time. What is your news?"
"Which do you want first, the good or the bad?"
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"In whatever order you care to give it."
"The bad news has several components. First, we have no contact with Prosik
on Venus, although there are distinct signs that Hanson employs his crude
Spiral technology there."
Mugly cleared his throat portentously. "Second, Earthers continue to probe
Patricia for her secrets. They appear jubilant about their latest efforts
although we do not know what they have achieved."
"You consider that news I dare convey to Habiba?"
"Why not?"
"Do you think she might order the immediate dispatch of the new erasure ship?"
Mugly shrugged. "You should know better than I. That brings me to the good
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news. The new ship should be ready within the week. We are putting in the
finishing touches right now. Those new idmagers she sent me are superb."
Jongleur groaned. "You call that good news?"
"You are a poor loser, Jongleur," Mugly said.
"How dare you speak so lightly of this?"
"Jongleur! I apologize. I know your son is still there in that accursed
solar system but we must think of all Dreendom."
"Which is what I wish you would do. Earth is driving us insane! I sense
disaster in whatever we do. Habiba . . . Blessed Habiba . . . Mugly, she is
changed."
"Changed? In what way?"
"It is hard to describe. She sits silently much more than ever before. And
she is short with me.
She has never been short with me before. And Mugly, I have heard her curse
you."
Mugly was aghast. "Curse . . . me?"
"And Wemply the Voyager who idmaged Earth. She curses him, too. I have heard
her curse both of you in the same breath."
"Jongleur, I must speak to her!"
"No! She forbids it."
"Forbids . . . but do we not have a Thoughtcon to --"
"She forbids the Thoughtcon, too. I fear for her, Mugly. She looks and
sounds so sad."
"But the shield is working. We are protected. We have time to do whatever we
--"
"Time? Is that not the very problem, Mugly? Have Dreens ever before been
concerned with time?
We possessed infinity. Now, what do we have? We have a dark sky and people
who cower beneath it wondering how long it will endure. We have petitions
from Dreens asking when Habiba will make her decision about Earth. When,
Mugly! We mark time until her next pronouncement. All of us are concerned
with time. We who had infinity now concern ourselves with bits and pieces of
time.
Earth has cursed us. Damn them and their finite impudence!"
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When I contemplate the infinite, I see the vitality of Time. Our Spirals,
infinitely engaged, cannot touch all being and all substance. Those require
Time. If we ignore Time and accept infinity as our holy and unquestioned
right, then we are less than we might be. Is that not the lesson of Earth?
-- Habiba's journal
They arrived with a roar of static and a flash of red light in Raj Dood's
waiting room. The place struck Lutt as surprisingly ordinary until he looked
at the window wall on his left. This gave him an angled view onto the
metallic tube where he had arrived from the infirmary.
Has it occurred to you to question your uncle about how he does this? Ryll
asked.
Do you know?
As I said, it's obviously a form of Spiral technology.
That cylinder doesn't look like a Spiral.
But I can feel the tingle of Spiral contact when we move at your uncle's
command.
Keerist! Is that what he and Father fought over so many years ago?
I have no way of answering such a question. However, I would very much like
to see his control center and observe the way it works.
"Lutt?" Nishi tugged at Lutt's arm.
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"What is it?"
"Is Raj Dood really your uncle?"
"That's what he said."
"How does he do this?"
"It's magic and we're the poor natives who're supposed to shit green when he
demonstrates his powers."
"How can you treat this so . . . so . . ."
"I knew the old bastard. Look at this room -- the chairs, that sofa, that
table and those magazines." He lifted a magazine and waved it at her. "The
Weekend Golfer. And there -- a copy of Modern Psychiatry!"
"But that!" She pointed to the view into the cylinder.
"Yeah, that's something else." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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