among us as Usul, the base of the pillar. This is your secret name, your troop name. We of Sietch Tabr may use it, but none other may so presume … Usul.”
Murmuring went through the troop: “Good choice, that … strong … bring us luck.” And Jessica sensed the acceptance, knowing she was included in it with her champion. She was indeed Sayyadina.
“Now, what name of manhood do you choose for us to call you openly?” Stilgar asked.
Paul glanced at his mother, back to Stilgar. Bits and pieces of this moment registered on his prescient memory, but he felt the differences as though they were physical, a pressure forcing him through the narrow door of the present.
“How do you call among you the little mouse, the mouse that jumps?” Paul asked, remembering the pop-hop of motion at Tuono Basin. He illustrated with one hand.
A chuckle sounded through the troop.
“We call that one muad’dib,” Stilgar said.
Jessica gasped. It was the name Paul had told her, saying that the Fremen would accept them and call him thus. She felt a sudden fear of her son and for him.
Paul swallowed. He felt that he played a part already played over countless times in his mind … yet … there were differences. He could see himself perched on a dizzying summit, having experienced much and possessed of a profound store of knowledge, but all around him was abyss.
And again he remembered the vision of fanatic legions following the green and black banner of the Atreides, pillaging and burning across the universe in the name of their prophet Muad’Dib.
That must not happen, he told himself.
“Is that the name you wish, Muad’Dib?” Stilgar asked.
“I am an Atreides,” Paul whispered, and then louder: “It’s not right that I give up entirely the name my father gave me. Could I be known among you as Paul-Muad’Dib?”
“You are Paul-Muad’Dib,” Stilgar said.
And Paul thought: That was in no vision of mine. I did a different thing.
But he felt that the abyss remained all around him.
Again a murmuring response went through the troop as man turned to man: “Wisdom with strength … Couldn’t ask more … It’s the legend for sure … Lisan al-Gaib … Lisan al-Gaib….”
“I will tell you a thing about your new name,” Stilgar said. “The choice pleases us. Muad‘Dib is wise in the ways of the desert. Muad’Dib creates his own water. Muad‘Dib hides from the sun and travels in the cool night. Muad’Dib is fruitful and multiplies over the land. Muad‘Dib we call ’instructor-of-boys.’ That is a powerful base on which to build your life, Paul-Muad’Dib, who is Usul among us. We welcome you.”
Stilgar touched Paul’s forehead with one palm, withdrew his hand, embraced Paul and murmured, “Usul.”
As Stilgar released him, another member of the troop embraced Paul, repeating his new troop name. And Paul was passed from embrace to embrace through the troop, hearing the voices, the shadings of tone: “Usul … Usul … Usul.” Already, he could place some of them by name. And there was Chani who pressed her cheek against his as she held him and said his name.
Presently Paul stood again before Stilgar, who said: “Now, you are of the Ichwan Bedwine, our brother.” His face hardened, and he spoke with command in his voice. “And now, Paul-Muad‘Dib, tighten up that stillsuit.” He glanced at Chani. “Chani! Paul-Muad’Dib’s nose plugs are as poor a fit I’ve ever seen! I thought I ordered you to see after him!”
“I hadn’t the makings, Stil,” she said. “There’s Jamis’, of course, but—”
“Enough of that!”
“Then I’ll share one of mine,” she said. “I can make do with one until—”
“You will not,” Stilgar said.“I know there are spares among us. Where are the spares? Are we a troop together or a band of savages?”
Hands reached out from the troop offering hard, fibrous objects. Stilgar selected four, handed them to Chani. “Fit these to Usul and the Sayyadina.”
A voice lifted from the back of the troop: “What of the water, Stil? What of the literjons in their pack?”
“I know your need, Farok,” Stilgar said. He glanced at Jessica. She nodded.
“Broach one for those that need it,” Stilgar said. “Watermaster … where is a watermaster? Ah, Shimoom, care for the measuring of what is needed. The necessity and no more. This water is the dower property of the Sayyadina and will be repaid in the sietch at field rates less pack fees.”
“What is the repayment at field rates?” Jessica asked.
“Ten for one,” Stilgar said.
“But—”
“It’s a wise rule as you’ll