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Irulan stared at the papers in front of Stilgar, her mouth a tight line.

Paul, resuming his seat, thought he had never seen her under such poor control. Leaning toward her, he said: "Irulan, I am truly sorry."

He squeezed her hand, released it, returned to the table where he remained standing.

"I know the political arguments," Paul said. "It's the human arguments which concern me. I think if the Princess Consort were not bound by the commands of the Bene Gesserit, if she did not seek this out of desires for personal power, my reaction might be very different. As matters stand, though, I reject this proposal."

"Sihaya," he whispered.

Irulan went very still.

Often in their religious ecstasy, they filled the streets with screeching like some odd aviary. In fact, the Fremen called them "passage birds." And the few who died here were "winged souls."

"Irulan proposes herself as mother of the Imperial heir," Paul said. He glanced at Chani, back to Irulan, who refused to meet his gaze. "We all know she holds no love for me."

"I know the political arguments," Paul said. "It's the human arguments which concern me. I think if the Princess Consort were not bound by the commands of the Bene Gesserit, if she did not seek this out of desires for personal power, my reaction might be very different. As matters stand, though, I reject this proposal."

He squeezed her hand, released it, returned to the table where he remained standing.

A hand crept into Paul's. He looked down to see Chani peering up at him, concern in her eyes. Those eyes drank him, and she whispered: "Please, love, do not battle with your ruh-self." An outpouring of emotion swept upward from her hand, buoyed him.

"One of the deep-space kind?" Korba asked, his voice full of fanatic loathing.

This planet beneath him which he had commanded be remade from desert into a water-rich paradise, it was alive. It had a pulse as dynamic as that of any human. It fought him, resisted, slipped away from his commands...

This planet beneath him which he had commanded be remade from desert into a water-rich paradise, it was alive. It had a pulse as dynamic as that of any human. It fought him, resisted, slipped away from his commands...

"Sihaya," he whispered.

This planet beneath him which he had commanded be remade from desert into a water-rich paradise, it was alive. It had a pulse as dynamic as that of any human. It fought him, resisted, slipped away from his commands...

With a sigh, Paul thought how each new planet his legions subjugated opened new sources of pilgrims. They came out of gratitude for "the peace of Muad'dib."

A hand crept into Paul's. He looked down to see Chani peering up at him, concern in her eyes. Those eyes drank him, and she whispered: "Please, love, do not battle with your ruh-self." An outpouring of emotion swept upward from her hand, buoyed him.

What do they find here? Paul asked himself.

She lifted her chin, a look of pure fury in her eyes. "I don't want your pity "Is there more that's urgent and dire?"

Irulan stared at the papers in front of Stilgar, her mouth a tight line.

Driven by that deepest religious instinct, the people came, seeking their resurrection. The pilgrimage ended here "Arrakis, the place of rebirth, the place to die."

She lifted her chin, a look of pure fury in her eyes. "I don't want your pity "Is there more that's urgent and dire?"

Irulan stared at the papers in front of Stilgar, her mouth a tight line.

What do they find here? Paul asked himself.

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