Leto obeyed, but listened carefully to the sound of the Fremen's footsteps. "The surest way to keep a secret is to make people believe they already know the answer," Leto said. "People don't ask questions then. It was clever of you who were cast out of Jacurutu. Who'd believe Shuloch, the story-myth place, is real? And how convenient for the smugglers or anyone else who desires access to Dune."
Muriz's footsteps stopped. Leto turned with his back against the 'thopter's side, the wing on his left.
Muriz stood half a pace away with his maula pistol drawn and pointed directly at Leto. "So you're not a child," Muriz said. "A cursed midget come to spy on us! I thought you spoke too wisely for a child, but you spoke too much too soon."
"Not enough," Leto said. "I'm Leto, the child of Paul-Muad'Dib. If you slay me, you and your people will sink into the sand. If you spare me, I'll lead you to greatness."
"Don't play games with me, midget," Muriz snarled. "Leto is at the real Jacurutu from whence you say..." He broke off. The gun hand dropped slightly as a puzzled frown made his eyes squint.
It was the hesitation Leto had expected, He made every muscle indication of a move to the left which, deflecting his body no more than a millimeter, brought the Fremen's gun swinging wildly against the wing edge. The maula pistol flew from his hand and, before he could recover, Leto was beside him with Muriz's own crysknife pressed against the man's back.
"The tip's poisoned," Leto said. "Tell your friend in the 'thopter that he's to remain exactly where he is without moving at all. Otherwise I'll be forced to kill you."
Muriz, nursing his injured hand, shook his head at the figure in the 'thopter, said: "My companion Behaleth has heard you. He will be as unmoving as the rock."
Knowing he had very little time until the two worked out a plan of action or their friends came to investigate, Leto spoke swiftly: "You need me, Muriz. Without me, the worms and their spice will vanish from Dune." He felt the Fremen stiffen.
"But how do you know of Shuloch?" Muriz asked. "I know they said nothing at Jacurutu."
"So you admit I'm Leto Atreides?"
"Who else could you be? But how do you -"
"Because you are here," Leto said. "Shuloch exists, therefore the rest is utter simplicity. You are the Cast Out who escaped when Jacurutu was destroyed. I saw you signal with your wings, therefore you use no device which could be overheard at a distance. You collect spice, therefore you trade. You could only trade with the smugglers. You are a smuggler, yet you are Fremen. You must be of Shuloch."
"Why did you tempt me to slay you out of hand?"
"Because you would've slain me anyway when we'd returned to Shuloch."
A violent rigidity came over Muriz's body.
"Careful, Muriz," Leto cautioned. "I know about you. It was in your history that you took the water of unwary travelers. By now this would be common ritual with you. How else could you silence the ones who chanced upon you? How else keep your secret? Batigh! You'd seduce me with gentle epithets and kindly words. Why waste any of my water upon the sand? And if I were missed as were many of the others - well, the Tanzerouft got me."
Muriz made the Horns-of-the-Worm sign with his right hand to ward off the Rihani which Leto's words called up. And Leto, knowing how older Fremen distrusted mentats or anything which smacked of them by a show of extended logic, suppressed a smile.
"Manri spoke of us at Jacurutu," Muriz said. "I will have his water when -"
"You'll have nothing but empty sand if you continue playing the fool," Leto said. "What will you do, Muriz, when all of Dune has become green grass, trees, and open water?"
"It will never happen!"
"It is happening before your eves."
Leto heard Muriz's teeth grinding in rage and frustration. Presently the man grated: "How would you prevent this?"
"I know the entire plan of the transformation," Leto said. "I know every weakness in it, every strength. Without me, Shai-Hulud will vanish forever."
A sly note returning to his voice, Muriz asked: "Well, why dispute it here? We're at a standoff. You have your knife. You could kill me, but Behaleth would shoot you."
"Not before I recovered your pistol," Leto said. "Then I'd have your 'thopter. Yes, I can fly it."
A scowl creased Muriz's forehead beneath the hood. "What if you're not who you say?"
"Will my father not identify me?" Leto asked.
"Ahhhh," Muriz said. "There's how you learned, eh? But..." He broke off, shook his head. "My own son guides him. He says you two have never... How could..."
"So you don't believe Muad'Dib reads the future," Leto said.
"Of course we believe! But he says of himself that..." Again Muriz broke off.
"And you thought him unaware of your distrust," Leto said. "I came to this exact place in this exact time to meet you, Muriz. I know all about you because I've seen you... and your son. I know how secure you believe yourselves, how you sneer at Muad'Dib, how you plot to save your little patch of desert. But your little patch of desert is doomed without me, Muriz. Lost forever. It has gone too far here on Dune. My father has almost run out of vision, and you can only turn to me."
"That blind..." Muriz stopped, swallowed.
"He'll return soon from Arrakeen," Leto said, "and then we shall see how blind he is. How far have you gone from the old Fremen ways, Muriz?"
"What?"
Chapter Twenty-Six