“I’ll see what I can get you. The most interesting feature, of course, is their eyes—totally blue, no whites in them.”
“Mutation?”
“No; it’s linked to saturation of the blood with melange.”
“The Fremen must be brave to live at the edge of that desert.”
“By all accounts,” Yueh said. “They compose poems to their knives. Their women are as fierce as the men. Even Fremen children are violent and dangerous. You’ll not be permitted to mingle with them, I daresay.”
Paul stared at Yueh, finding in these few glimpses of the Fremen a power of words that caught his entire attention. What a people to win as allies!
“And the worms?” Paul asked.
“What?”
“I’d like to study more about the sandworms.”
“Ah-h-h, to be sure. I’ve a filmbook on a small specimen, only one hundred and ten meters long and twenty-two meters in diameter. It was taken in the northern latitudes. Worms of more than four hundred meters in length have been recorded by reliable witnesses, and there’s reason to believe even larger ones exist.”
Paul glanced down at a conical projection chart of the northern Arrakeen latitudes spread on the table. “The desert belt and south polar regions are marked uninhabitable. Is it the worms?”
“And the storms.”
“But any place can be made habitable.”
“If it’s economically feasible,” Yueh said. “Arrakis has many costly perils.” He smoothed his drooping mustache. “Your father will be here soon. Before I go, I’ve a gift for you, something I came across in packing.” He put an object on the table between them—black, oblong, no larger than the end of Paul’s thumb.
Paul looked at it. Yueh noted how the boy did not reach for it, and thought: How cautious he is.
“It’s a very old Orange Catholic Bible made for space travelers. Not a filmbook, but actually printed on filament paper. It has its own magnifier and electrostatic charge system.” He picked it up, demonstrated. “The book is held closed by the charge, which forces against spring-locked covers. You press the edge—thus, and the pages you’ve selected repel each other and the book opens.”
“It’s so small.”
“But it has eighteen hundred pages. You press the edge—thus, and so … and the charge moves ahead one page at a time as you read. Never touch the actual pages with your fingers. The filament tissue is too delicate.” He closed the book, handed it to Paul. “Try it.”
Yueh watched Paul work the page adjustment, thought: I salve my own conscience. I give him the surcease of religion before betraying him. Thus may I say to myself that he has gone where I cannot go.
“This must’ve been made before filmbooks,” Paul said.
“It’s quite old. Let it be our secret, eh? Your parents might think it too valuable for one so young.”
And Yueh thought: His mother would surely wonder at my motives.
“Well….” Paul closed the book, held it in his hand. “If it’s so valuable….”
“Indulge an old man’s whim,” Yueh said. “It was given to me when I was very young.” And he thought: I must catch his mind as well as his cupidity. “Open it to four-sixty-seven K” alima—where it says: ‘From water does all life begin.’ There’s a slight notch on the edge of the cover to mark the place.”
Paul felt the cover, detected two notches, one shallower than the other. He pressed the shallower one and the book spread open on his palm, its magnifier sliding into place.
“Read it aloud,” Yueh said.
Paul wet his lips with his tongue, read: ‘Think you of the fact that a deaf person cannot hear. Then, what deafness may we not all possess? What senses do we lack that we cannot see and cannot hear another world all around us? What is there around us that we cannot—”
“Stop it!” Yueh barked.
Paul broke off, stared at him.
Yueh closed his eyes, fought to regain composure. What perversity caused the book to open at my Wanna’s favorite passage? He opened his eyes, saw Paul staring at him.
“Is something wrong?” Paul asked.
“I’m sorry,” Yueh said. “That was … my … dead wife’s favorite passage. It’s not the one I intended you to read. It brings up memories that are … painful.”
“There are two notches,” Paul said.
Of course, Yueh thought. Wanna marked her passage. His fingers are more sensitive than mine andfoundher mark. It was an accident, no more.
“You may find the book interesting,” Yueh said. “It has much historical truth in it as well as good ethical philosophy.”