"How could you expect agreement when you know I hate everything about you? Be honest with me!"
"The three legs of the agreement-tripod are desire, data and doubt. Accuracy and honesty have little to do with it."
"Please don't argue with me. You know I'm dying."
"I respect you too much to argue with you."
He lifted his front segments slightly then, probing the wind. It already was beginning to bring the day's heat but there was too much moisture in it for his comfort. He was reminded that the more he ordered the weather controlled, the more there was that required control. Absolutes only brought him closer to vagueries.
"You say you're not arguing, but..
."
"Argument closes off the doors of the senses," he said, lowering himself back to the surface. "It always masks violence. Continued too long, argument always leads to violence. I have no violent intentions toward you."
"What do you mean-desire, data and doubt?"
"Desire brings the participants together. Data set the limits of their dialogue. Doubt frames the questions."
She moved closer to stare directly into his face from less than a meter away.
How odd, he thought, that hatred could be mingled so completely with hope and fear and awe.
"Could you save me?"
"There is a way."
She nodded and he knew she had leaped to the wrong conclusion.
"You want to trade that for my agreement!" she accused.
"No."
"If I pass your test..."
"It is not my test."
"Whose?"
"It derives from our common ancestors."
Siona sank to a sitting position on the cold rock and remained silent, not yet ready to ask for a resting place within the lip of his warm front segment. Leto thought he could hear the soft scream waiting in her throat. Now, her doubts were at work. She was beginning to wonder if he really could be fitted into her image of Ultimate Tyrant. She looked up at him with that terrible clarity he had identified in her.
"What makes you do what you do?"
The question was well framed. He said: "My need to save the people."
"What people?"
"My definition is much broader than that of anyone else even of the Bene Gesserit, who think they have defined what it is to be human. I refer to the eternal thread of all humankind by whatever definition."
"You're trying to tell me..." Her mouth became too dry for speaking. She tried to accumulate saliva. He saw the movements within her face mask. Her question was obvious, though, and he did not wait.
"Without me there would have been by now no people anywhere, none whatsoever. And the path to that extinction was more hideous than your wildest imaginings."
"Your supposed prescience," she sneered.
"The Golden Path still stands open," he said.
"I don't trust you!"
"Because we are not equals?"
"Yes!"
"But we're interdependent."
"What need have you for me?"
Ahhh, the cry of youth unsure of its niche. He felt the strength within the secret bonds of dependency and forced himself to be hard. Dependency fosters weakness!
"You are the Golden Path," he said.
"Me?" It was barely a whisper.
"You've read those journals you stole from me," he said. "I am in them, but where are you? Look at what I have created, Siona. And you, you can create nothing except yourself."
"Words, more tricky words!"
"I do not suffer from being worshipped, Siona. I suffer from never being appreciated. Perhaps...No, I dare not hope for you."
"What's the purpose of those journals?"
"An Ixian machine records them. They are. to be found on a faraway day. They will make people think."
"An Ixian machine? You defy the Jihad!"
"There's a lesson in that, too. What do such machines really do? They increase the number of things we can do without thinking. Things we do without thinking-there's the real danger. Look at how long you walked across this desert without thinking about your face mask."
"You could have warned me!"
"And increased your dependency."
She stared at him a moment, then: "Why would you want me to command your Fish Speakers?"
"You are an Atreides woman, resourceful and capable of independent thought. You can be truthful just for the sake of truth as you see it. You were bred and trained for command which means freedom from dependence."
The wind whirled dust and sand around them while she weighed his words. "And if I agree, you'll save me?"
"No."
She had been so sure of the opposite answer that it was several heartbeats before she translated that single word. In that time, the wind fell slightly, exposing a vista across the dunescape to the remnants of Habbanya Ridge. The air was suddenly chilled with that cold which did as much to rob the flesh of moisture as did the hottest sunlight. Part of Leto's awareness detected an oscillation in weather control.
"No?" She was both puzzled and outraged.
"I do not make bloody bargains with people I must trust."
She shook her head slowly from side to side, but her gaze remained fixed on his face. "What will make you save me?"
"Nothing will make me do it. Why do you think you could do to me what I will not do to you? That is not the way of interdependence."
Her shoulders slumped. "If I cannot bargain with you or force you..."
"Then you must choose another path."
What a marvelous thing to observe the explosive growth of awareness, he thought. Siona's expressive features hid nothing of it from him. She focused on his eyes and glared at him as though seeking to move completely into his thoughts. New strength entered her muffled voice.