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“
In
My
Father
’
s
House
”
by
the
Princess
Irulan
PAUL
STOOD
outside
the
stilltent
in
the
late
afternoon
.
The
crevasse
where
he
had
pitched
their
camp
lay
in
deep
shadow
.
He
stared
out
across
the
open
sand
at
the
distant
cliff
,
wondering
if
he
should
waken
his
mother
,
who
lay
asleep
in
the
tent
.
Folds
upon
folds
of
dunes
spread
beyond
their
shelter
.
Away
from
the
setting
sun
,
the
dunes
exposed
greased
shadows
so
black
they
were
like
bits
of
night
.
And
the
flatness
.
His
mind
searched
for
something
tall
in
that
landscape
.
But
there
was
no
persuading
tallness
out
of
heat
-
addled
air
and
that
horizon
—
no
bloom
or
gently
shaken
thing
to
mark
the
passage
of
a
breeze
.
.
.
only
dunes
and
that
distant
cliff
beneath
a
sky
of
burnished
silver
-
blue
.
What
if
there
isn
’
t
one
of
the
abandoned
testing
stations
across
there
?
he
wondered
.
What
if
there
are
no
Fremen
,
either
,
and
the
plants
we
see
are
only
an
accident
?
Within
the
tent
,
Jessica
awakened
,
turned
onto
her
back
and
peered
sidelong
out
the
transparent
end
at
Paul
.
He
stood
with
his
back
to
her
and
something
about
his
stance
reminded
her
of
his
father
.
She
sensed
the
well
of
grief
rising
within
her
and
turned
away
.
Presently
she
adjusted
her
stillsuit
,
refreshed
herself
with
water
from
the
tent
’
s
catchpocket
,
and
slipped
out
to
stand
and
stretch
the
sleep
from
her
muscles
.
Paul
spoke
without
turning
:
“
I
find
myself
enjoying
the
quiet
here
.
”
How
the
mind
gears
itself
for
its
environment
,
she
thought
.
And
she
recalled
a
Bene
Gesserit
axiom
:
“
The
mind
can
go
either
direction
under
stress
