acted hastily. I should’ve sought confirmation of—”
“You did right! Your judgments cannot be based on any such foolish abstract as that Atreides notion of equality. That’s what kept you sleepless, not Paymon’s death. You made a good decision! He was another dangerous tool. You acted to maintain order in your society. Now there’s a good reason for judgments, not this justice nonsense! There’s no such thing as equal justice anywhere. It’s unsettling to a society when you try to achieve such a false balance.”
Alia felt pleasure at this defense of her judgment against Paymon, but shocked at the amoral concept behind the argument. “Equal justice was an Atreides . . . was . . .” She took her hands from her eyes, but kept her eyes closed.
“All of your priestly judges should be admonished about this error,” the Baron argued. “Decisions must be weighed only as to their merit in maintaining an orderly society. Past civilizations without number have foundered on the rocks of equal justice. Such foolishness destroys the natural hierarchies which are far more important. Any individual takes on significance only in his relationship to your total society. Unless that society be ordered in logical steps, no one can find a place in it—not the lowliest or the highest. Come, come, grandchild! You must be the stern mother of your people. It’s your duty to maintain order.”
“Everything Paul did was to . . .”
“Your brother’s dead, a failure!”
“So are you!”
“True . . . but with me it was an accident beyond my designing. Come now, let us take care of this Javid as I have outlined for you.”
She felt her body grow warm at the thought, spoke quickly: “I must think about it.” And she thought: If it’s done, it’ll be only to put Javid in his place. No need to kill him for that. And the fool might just give himself away . . . in my bed.
“To whom do you talk, My Lady?” a voice asked.
For a confused moment, Alia thought this another intrusion by those clamorous multitudes within, but recognition of the voice opened her eyes. Ziarenka Valefor, chief of Alia’s guardian amazons, stood beside the bench, a worried frown on her weathered Fremen features.
“I speak to my inner voices,” Alia said, sitting up on the bench. She felt refreshed, buoyed up by the silencing of that distracting inner clamor.
“Your inner voices, My Lady. Yes.” Ziarenka’s eyes glistened at this information. Everyone knew the Holy Alia drew upon inner resources available to no other person.
“Bring Javid to my quarters,” Alia said. “There’s a serious matter I must discuss with him.”
“To your quarters, My Lady?”
“Yes! To my private chamber.”
“As My Lady commands.” The guard turned to obey.
“One moment,” Alia said. “Has Master Idaho already gone to Sietch Tabr?”
“Yes, My Lady. He left before dawn as you instructed. Do you wish me to send for . . .”
“No. I will manage this myself. And Zia, no one must know that Javid is being brought to me. Do it yourself. This is a very serious matter.”
The guard touched the crysknife at her waist. “My Lady, is there a threat to—”
“Yes, there’s a threat, and Javid may be at the heart of it.”
“Ohhh, My Lady, perhaps I should not bring—”
“Zia! Do you think me incapable of handling such a one?”
A lupine smile touched the guard’s mouth. “Forgive me, My Lady. I will bring him to your private chamber at once, but . . . with My Lady’s permission, I will mount guard outside your door.”
“You only,” Alia said.
“Yes, My Lady. I go at once.”
Alia nodded to herself, watching Ziarenka’s retreating back. Javid was not loved among her guards, then. Another mark against him. But he was still valuable—very valuable. He was her key to Jacurutu and with that place, well . . .
“Perhaps you were right, Baron,” she whispered.
“You see!” the voice within her chortled. “Ahhh, this will be a pleasant service to you, child, and it’s only the beginning . . .”
These are illusions of popular history which a successful religion must promote: Evil men never prosper; only the brave deserve the fair; honesty is the best policy; actions speak louder than words; virtue always triumphs; a good deed is its own reward; any bad human can be reformed; religious talismans protect one from demon possession; only females understand the ancient mysteries; the rich are doomed to unhappiness . . .
—FROM THE INSTRUCTION MANUAL: MISSIONARIA PROTECTIVA