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THE
DUKE
SAID
:
“
Paul
,
I
’
m
doing
a
hateful
thing
,
but
I
must
.
”
He
stood
beside
the
portable
poison
snooper
that
had
been
brought
into
the
conference
room
for
their
breakfast
.
The
thing
’
s
sensor
arms
hung
limply
over
the
table
,
reminding
Paul
of
some
weird
insect
newly
dead
.
The
Duke
’
s
attention
was
directed
out
the
windows
at
the
landing
field
and
its
roiling
of
dust
against
the
morning
sky
.
Paul
had
a
viewer
in
front
of
him
containing
a
short
filmclip
on
Fremen
religious
practices
.
The
clip
had
been
compiled
by
one
of
Hawat
’
s
experts
and
Paul
found
himself
disturbed
by
the
references
to
himself
.
“
Mahdi
!
”
“
Lisan
al
-
Gaib
!
”
He
could
close
his
eyes
and
recall
the
shouts
of
the
crowds
.
So
that
is
what
they
hope
,
he
thought
.
And
he
remembered
what
the
old
Reverend
Mother
had
said
:
Kwisatz
Haderach
.
The
memories
touched
his
feelings
of
terrible
purpose
,
shading
this
strange
world
with
sensations
of
familiarity
that
he
could
not
understand
.
“
A
hateful
thing
,
”
the
Duke
said
.
“
What
do
you
mean
,
sir
?
”
Leto
turned
,
looked
down
at
his
son
.
“
Because
the
Harkonnens
think
to
trick
me
by
making
me
distrust
your
mother
.
They
don
’
t
know
that
I
’
d
sooner
distrust
myself
.
”
“
I
don
’
t
understand
,
sir
.
”
