damage had been done-corpses all over Onn, some Face Dancers and some only-suspected Face Dancers.
And many have seen me kill, he thought.
While he waited for Hwi's arrival, he reviewed what had just happened. This had not been a typical Tleilaxu attack, but the previous attack on the road to Onn fitted into a new pattern, all of it pointing at a single mind with lethal purpose.
I could have died out there, he thought.
That began to explain why he had not anticipated this attack, but there was a deeper reason. Leto could see that reason rising into his awareness, a summation of all the clues. What human knew the God Emperor best? What human possessed a secret place from which to conspire?
Malky!
Leto summoned a guard and told her to ask if the Reverend Mother Anteac had yet left Arrakis. The guard returned in a moment to report.
'Anteac is still in her quarters. The Commander of the Fish Speaker Guard there says they have not come under attack.'
'Send word to Anteac,' Leto said. 'Ask if she now understands why I put her delegation in quarters at a distance from me? Then tell her that while she is on Ix she must locate Malky. She is to report that location to our local garrison on Ix.'
'Malky, the former Ixian Ambassador?'
'The same. He is not to remain alive and free. You will inform our garrison commander on Ix that she is to make close liaison with Anteac, providing every necessary assistance.
Malky is to be brought here to me or executed, whichever our commander finds necessary.'
The guard-messenger nodded, shadows lurching across her features where she stood in the ring of light around Leto's face. She did not ask for a repetition of the orders. Each of his close guards had been trained as a human-recorder. They could repeat Leto's words exactly, even the intonations, and would never forget what they had heard him say.
When the messenger had gone, Leto sent a private signal of inquiry and, within seconds, had a response from Nayla. The Ixian device within his cart reproduced a non-identifiable version of her voice, a flatly metallic recital for his ears alone.
Yes, Siona was at the Citadel. No, Siona had not contacted her rebel companions. 'No, she does not yet know that I am here observing her.' The attack on the Embassy? That had been by a splinter group called 'The Tleilaxu-Contact Element.'
Leto allowed himself a mental sigh. Rebels always gave their groups such pretentious labels.
'Any survivors?' he asked.
'No known survivors.'
Leto found it amusing that, while the metallic voice provided no emotional tones, his memory supplied them.
'You will make contact with Siona,' he said. 'Reveal that you are a Fish Speaker. Tell her you did not reveal this earlier because you knew she would not trust you and because you feared exposure since you are quite alone among Fish Speakers in your allegiance to Siona. Reaffirm your oath to her. Tell her that you swear by all that you hold holy to obey Siona in anything. If she commands it, you will do it. All of this is truth, as you well know.'
'Yes, Lord.'
Memory supplied the fanatic emphasis in Nayla's response. She would obey.
'If possible, provide opportunities for Siona and.Duncan Idaho to be alone together,' he said.
'Yes, Lord.'
Let propinquity take its usual course, he thought.
He broke contact with Nayla, thought for a moment, then sent for the commander of his plaza forces. The bashar arrived presently, her dark uniform stained and dusty, evidence of gore still on her boots. She was a tall, bone-thin woman with age lines which gave her aquiline features an air of powerful dignity. Leto recalled her troop-name, Iylyo, which meant 'Dependable' in Old Fremen. He called her, however, by her matronymic, Nyshae, 'Daughter of Shae,' which set a tone of subtle intimacy for this meeting.
'Rest yourself on a cushion, Nyshae,' he said. 'You have been working hard.'
'Thank you, Lord.'
She sank onto the red cushion which Hwi had used. Leto noted the fatigue lines around Nyshae's mouth, but her eyes remained alert. She stared up at him, eager to hear his words.
'Matters are once more tranquil in my City.' He made it not quite a question, leaving the interpretation to Nyshae.
'Tranquil but not good, Lord.'
He glanced at the gore on her boots.
'The street in front of the Ixian Embassy?'
'It is being cleansed, Lord. Repairs already are under way.'
'The plaza?'
'By morning, it will appear as it has always appeared.'
Her gaze remained steady on his face. Both of them knew he had not yet reached the nubbin of this interview. But Leto now identified a thing lurking within Nyshae's expression.
Pride in her Lord!
For the first time, she had seen the God Emperor kill. The seeds of a terrible dependency had been planted. If disaster threatens, my Lord will come. That was how it appeared in her eyes. She would no longer act with complete independence, taking her power from the God Emperor and being personally responsible for the use of that power. There was something possessive in her expression. A terrible death machine waited in the wings, available at her summons.
Leto did not like what he saw, but the damage had been done. Any remedies would require slow and subtle pressures.
'Where did the attackers get lasguns?' he asked.
'From our own stores, Lord. The Arsenal Guard has been replaced.'
Replaced. It was a euphemism with a certain nicety. Errant Fish Speakers were isolated and reserved until Leto found a problem which required Death Commandos. They would die gladly, of course, believing that thus they expiated their sin. And even the rumor that such berserkers had been dispatched could quiet a trouble spot.
'The arsenal was breached by explosives?' he asked. g 'Stealth and explosives, Lord. The Arsenal Guard was careless.'
'The source of the explosives?'
Some of Nyshae's fatigue was visible in her shrug.
Leto could only agree. He knew he could search out and identify those sources, but it would serve little purpose. Resourceful people could always find the ingredients for homemade explosives-common things such as sugar and bleaches, quite ordinary oils and innocent fertilizers, plastics and solvents and extracts from the dirt beneath a manure pile. The list was virtually endless, growing with each addition to human experience and knowledge. Even a society such as the one he had created, one which tried to limit the admixture of technology and new ideas, had no real hope of totally eliminating dangerously violent small weapons. The whole idea of controlling such things was chimera, a dangerous and distracting myth. The key was to limit the desire for violence. In that respect, this night had been a disaster.
So much new injustice, he thought.
As though she read his thought, Nyshae sighed.
Of course. Fish Speakers were trained from childhood to avoid injustice wherever possible.
'We must see to the survivors in the populace,' he said. 'See to it that their needs are met. They must be brought to the realization that the Tleilaxu were to blame.'
Nyshae nodded. She had not reached bashar rank while remaining ignorant of the drill. By now, she believed it. Merely by hearing Leto say it, she believed in the Tleilaxu guilt. And there was a certain practicality in her understanding. She knew why they did not slay all of the Tleilaxu.
You do not eliminate every scapegoat.
