which he was most noted. He learned to act rather than wait, and he learned to survive.
Our story begins on the eve of my father’s fifth marriage, at a time when the life of young Paul Atreides seemed to lie before him like a great adventure.
1
Life shapes life. Every event and every person leaves its mark, both in fine detail and in broad strokes.
The Atreides household staff made frantic preparations for the departure from Caladan. At the Cala City Spaceport, Duke Leto’s personal frigate was scrubbed and buffed until it gleamed in the hazy sunlight; its interior was oiled, polished, and perfumed. In two days a Heighliner would arrive for the trip across space, but no one would tell twelve-year-old Paul their destination, which only made him more curious.
“Are we going to Ix to visit House Vernius?” he pestered Thufir Hawat during one of their training sessions. Paul Atreides was fast and fit, but short for his age. According to the Mentat assassin, however (who was not prone to giving compliments), the boy still had fighting skills that would let him defeat men twice his age and twice his size. “I do not know where we are going, young Master.” When he asked Gurney Halleck, sure that the lumpish good-humored warrior would give him a hint of their destination, Gurney had simply shrugged. “I go where my Duke commands, pup.”
Afterward, he had tried to get information from Duncan Idaho, his friend and trainer. “Are we going to Ginaz, to see the old Swordmaster school?”
“The Ginaz School hasn’t been the same since the Grumman attack twelve years ago. Viscount Moritani called it a War of Assassins, but that implies following a set of rules, and he is a vile man who does as he pleases.” Duncan’s resentment was plain; he had been at the famous school when it had fallen.
“But are we going there anyway? You didn’t answer my question.”
“Honestly, I do not know.”
Paul studied each man’s reactions and expressions, seeking to learn if they told the truth or not. He concluded that no one knew where Duke Leto was taking them….
At the appointed time his mother Jessica came gracefully down the long promenade staircase into the main foyer, from which she could look down the hill. Her household servants had finished packing her clothes and toiletries, piling packages on a suspensor-flatbed transporter that would take them to the spaceport and load them aboard the Duke’s frigate.
Gurney came striding up, his clothes sweaty, his patchy blond hair smeared over his head. His grin was wide and infectious. “The Heighliner just arrived in orbit. The Guild gives us four hours to get ourselves securely nestled in a berth.”
“Are you packed yet?” Jessica looked harried.
“I carry most of what I need in my body and in my mind. And as long as I have my baliset, all is right with the universe.”
“Will you teach me to sing, Gurney?” Paul asked.
“I can teach you the words, young Master, but a melodious voice is a gift from God. You must develop that yourself.”
“He’ll do it along with his other studies,” Jessica said. “Come, Paul, it’s time to go to the spaceport. Your father will already be there.”
WHITE CUMULOUS CLOUDS thickened overhead as afternoon thunderstorms approached. In the village fish market, vendors shouted out lowered prices for the remnants of the morning’s catch; anything not sold within the next hour would be sent to processing plants for off-world shipment. Caladan locals wouldn’t eat anything more than a day old.
Leto was waiting for them at the spaceport. His long dark hair blew in the sea breeze, his aquiline nose lifted as though trying to catch a last sniff of the sea rather than the exhaust vapors from machinery. When he saw Gurney trudging along beside Jessica and Paul with a baliset slung over his shoulder, Leto said, “I’m sorry, Gurney, but there has been a change of plans.”
Instantly alert, the loyal retainer frowned. “Has something happened, my Lord?”
“No, and I want to make sure it stays that way. You and Thufir will remain behind to watch over House Atreides while we are gone. This is a more private matter.”
Gurney did not show that he was bothered. “As you wish, my Duke. Have you given Thufir any special instructions?”
“He knows what to do — as do you, Gurney.”
In private sessions Paul studied politics, psychology, and personal interactions, knowing it would help make him a better ruler someday. Duke Leto Atreides had acknowledged Paul as his natural and legitimate son, even though Jessica was his bound concubine instead of his wife. Nevertheless, there were still dynastic games to be played. The young man knew he might face perils and intrigues that an average boy his age need never imagine. “Without Gurney and Thufir, will we be safe, Father?” he asked before walking up the ramp into the Heighliner.
“Duncan is already aboard. He’ll be piloting.” It was all Leto needed to say. If Duncan Idaho could not protect Paul, no one could.
Barely able to contain his curiosity, Paul chose a seat by a porthole, through which he watched the other vessels coming and going in the spaceport. He felt a thrill when the frigate lifted off the ground. When the cottages of the coastal village were no more than tiny spots on the landscape below, the heavier thrusters activated. Flown expertly by Duncan, the small ship rose high above the white-flecked ocean, through the afternoon thunderclouds, and into the fading darkness of space.
Overhead, Paul saw the gigantic form of the Guild Heighliner in orbit, a single spaceship as large as some asteroids. The Atreides frigate was an insignificant speck inside the vessel that carried many other ships from numerous planets — more craft than the Cala City Spaceport would see in a Standard Year. Duncan received instructions to take them to their assigned berth.
Near the bow, Jessica sat primly in a seat. She had told Paul that space travel did not entirely agree with her, though she had made interplanetary trips before — first from the Bene Gesserit school on Wallach IX to join Duke Leto’s household and then to Kaitain during her pregnancy, where she was watched over by the first wife of Emperor Shaddam.
He was surprised by a sudden thought that came into his mind as information clicked together, pieces snapping into place. Lady Anirul… Emperor Shaddam IV… Kaitain.
Anirul, the Emperor’s first wife, had died under mysterious circumstances very near the time of Paul’s birth. Since then, Shaddam had taken other wives, though none of those marriages had been successful. In fact, his second, third, and fourth wives were also dead, which seemed rather suspicious to Paul. Now the Emperor was planning yet another wedding, this time to Firenza of House Thorvald.
And Duke Leto was taking his family on a mysterious journey.
“I know where we’re going,” Paul piped up. “Each House in the Landsraad is sending representatives to Kaitain. We’re attending the Emperor’s wedding, aren’t we?” The event was bound to be spectacular, unlike anything he had ever seen.
Duke Leto’s expression darkened, and he shook his head. “No, Paul. Considering what happened to Shaddam’s previous marriages, we won’t be attending this one.” He sounded decidedly cool.
