and their incessant, often contradictory, advice. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn’t. Usually, the voices grew quiet.
Alia had discovered how to create youthful experiences for herself, and Marie did the same. “I have never had playmates my own age, either,” the other girl said. “We were kept isolated among the Tleilaxu, and they do not have children… in the normal way.”
Alia could remember uncounted births, even her very own. But she was intrigued to learn that the Tleilaxu reproduced differently, somehow. “How do they do it, then?”
Marie just shrugged. “They wouldn’t tell us.” That, Alia decided, was a mystery she might have to look into.
The two spent much of their days exploring the citadel, occupying themselves with games such as hide- and-seek. With so vast a complex in which to conceal themselves, the diversion quickly grew untenable, until they agreed to restrict the areas in which they could hide to certain reception wings and banquet rooms. They also enjoyed playing tricks on the ever-increasing number of amazon guards, Fremen-trained women among the palace staff who were assigned to watch over Alia. The female guards responded with great awkwardness to the games, not sure how to treat the girls.
As the two became more comfortable with each another, Marie pressed her companion about what her childhood had been like in the Fremen sietch, living in caves, wearing a stillsuit every day. With a gleam in her eye, Alia replied, “I shall show you a game Fremen children often play. You’ll find it amusing.”
Marie lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let’s give it a try.”
ONCE THE WIFE of Jamis, Harah had been a battle prize won by young Paul Atreides, and then willingly taken by Stilgar. She was a consummate Fremen woman, elevated by Stilgar to be first among his wives. Despite her traditions and her own superstitions, Harah had been one of the few in sietch who was not terrified by the strange child Alia. Harah had given the girl her love and attention, rather than calling her Abomination and muttering that she be put to death.
When Stilgar returned from the Jihad battlefields, glad to be back in the pure desert, Harah was his source of strength, his anchor. She was not a meek woman; in fact, Harah frightened Stilgar’s other wives and any Fremen, male or female, who dared to get in her way. Now she came to him with a facial expression as dangerous as a Coriolis storm. “Alia is gone. She and the Fenring child have disappeared. I suspect treachery.”
“You always suspect treachery, Harah. You know Alia better than anyone, and you know she can take care of herself.”
Harah stamped her foot. “But I do not know that other girl. She could be a weapon programmed by the Tleilaxu or Count Fenring or any of Muad’Dib’s enemies.”
Stilgar looked into her eyes and saw the genuine concern. Harah was not an alarmist.
“I have already searched the likely places,” she said. “I have dispatched the household staff to search as well, and told them to forsake their other duties until the children are found.” Stilgar felt a cold hand grip his heart, as Harah added in a low, warning voice, “When Muad’Dib returns from the desert, I would not like to be the one to tell him his sister has been lost.”
“I will summon the guards and the Fedaykin. Chani will lead them, I am sure.”
FOR NEARLY A full day, swarms of desperate searchers pushed through every corridor, every wing, and every chamber in the huge Citadel of Muad’Dib. In their scrutiny they discovered crimes and indiscretions, numerous hidden vaults, and a great deal of material that could be used as blackmail, all of which Korba promptly seized and locked away in private Qizarate files.
But they found no sign of Alia or Marie, not a trail or a clue. The two had vanished.
Search parties combed the outlying districts of Arrakeen, forcing their way into dwellings, ransacking merchants’ warehouses and marching through places of worship built by the countless sects that had sprung up to honor and revere Muad’Dib. They found many things, but no sign of the missing children.
Stilgar was sickened, expecting at any moment to receive a ransom demand or, worse, Alia’s severed head sent in a package to the citadel. Stilgar authorized the Emperor’s treasury to offer a breathtaking reward for information about Alia’s whereabouts, and word spread around the city of Arrakeen. Orinthopters flew overhead and out into the desert in tightly arranged search patterns, craft that were fitted with the most advanced scanning technology. But the daily winds would quickly erase any footprints the children might have left.
Finally Stilgar received a message from a poor desert family that lived in one of the squalid villages at the fringe of the Shield Wall, where breezes blew sand into the sheltered basin and radiation from Muad’Dib’s atomics still lingered at barely tolerable levels. Children were often seen playing at the edge of the desert. This family had reported noticing two girls that they did not recognize.
Stilgar barked a command that the family be taken as guests to the citadel, so they could receive their reward if the information proved accurate. He climbed into a small ‘thopter himself and seized the controls. When the articulated wings began to shudder, he did not wait for the other troopers to scramble into their own aircraft. He took off from the citadel landing pad before the others even started their engines. The rest of the vessels swooped after him, then concentrated their search in the appropriate area. The ‘thopters swarmed out over the dunes, looking for any sign of figures.
Stilgar went out several kilometers, though he was certain that Alia had sense enough not to go too far into the deep desert. On the other hand, the child was exceedingly unpredictable. Though he had no evidence, he would not have been surprised if Alia knew how to summon a worm and ride out into the open bled. She could have taken Marie with her, perhaps to find Paul on his long pilgrimage. The girls might have thought it would be fun.
At last, he spotted two small figures huddled in the sand. The winds had died down, and their tiny footprints left a centipede-like path along the crest of a dune, then down into a shallow valley. The ‘thopters landed like a full-scale invasion force, and the two girls stood up, shielding their eyes and ears from the blowing sand and the noise of engines. Stilgar sprang out of the ‘thopter even before the articulated wings had slowed. He strode forward, his face a mixture of anger and relief.
The children had sticks, a literjon of water, Fremkits, a stilltent, and the basic essentials for surviving for days out in the desert. Marie held up her stick, at the end of which dangled a squirming, gelatinous mass.
“Hello, Stilgar,” Alia said in a carefree voice, as if he and all the ‘thopters had simply come to bring the children a platter of honeyed spice cakes. “We’re catching sandtrout, just like Fremen children do.”
Marie played with the primitive creature she had caught, stretching its body membrane. Stilgar came forward, looking furious enough to strike Alia, and swept her up in an awkward bear hug. “Never do that again, child!”
Now that he was no longer worried, Stilgar felt a strange sense of satisfaction about the incident that at first he could not articulate. Finally, he was startled to realize that this bad decision, this foolish activity, was something a
But a normal child she was not. And neither was her new playmate.
6
Our secrets are not as safe as before. The old security measures are no longer adequate. Muad’Dib has an advantage better than any network of spies: He has prescience.
On the way home from his desert pilgrimage, Paul walked through the streets of Arrakeen, unrecognized in his dusty traditional garb. He had felt the murmur of crowds and the anonymous press of people all around him. The solitude and stillness of the desert rapidly slipped away from him. As soon as he returned, people would demand to speak with him about all those supposedly crucial matters that had been held in abeyance during his sojourn.
But he had more important matters to take care of: He had to stop Memnon Thorvald before the rebel leader
