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He
knew
he
had
seen
this
place
before
,
experienced
it
in
a
fragment
of
prescient
dream
on
faraway
Caladan
,
but
details
of
the
place
were
being
filled
in
now
that
he
had
not
seen
.
He
felt
a
new
sense
of
wonder
at
the
limits
of
his
gift
.
It
was
as
though
he
rode
within
the
wave
of
time
,
sometimes
in
its
trough
,
sometimes
on
a
crest
—
and
all
around
him
the
other
waves
lifted
and
fell
,
revealing
and
then
hiding
what
they
bore
on
their
surface
.
Through
it
all
,
the
wild
jihad
still
loomed
ahead
of
him
,
the
violence
and
the
slaughter
.
It
was
like
a
promontory
above
the
surf
.
The
troop
filed
through
the
last
door
into
the
main
cavern
.
The
door
was
sealed
.
Lights
were
extinguished
,
hoods
removed
from
the
cavern
openings
,
revealing
the
night
and
the
stars
that
had
come
over
the
desert
.
Jessica
moved
to
the
dry
lip
of
the
cavern
’
s
edge
,
looked
up
at
the
stars
.
They
were
sharp
and
near
.
She
felt
the
stirring
of
the
troop
around
her
,
heard
the
sound
of
a
baliset
being
tuned
somewhere
behind
her
,
and
Paul
’
s
voice
humming
the
pitch
.
There
was
a
melancholy
in
his
tone
that
she
did
not
like
.
Chani
’
s
voice
intruded
from
the
deep
cave
darkness
:
“
Tell
me
about
the
waters
of
your
birthworld
,
Paul
Muad
’
Dib
.
”
And
Paul
:
“
Another
time
,
Chani
.
I
promise
.
”
Such
sadness
.
“
It
’
s
a
good
baliset
,
”
Chani
said
.
“
Very
good
,
”
Paul
said
.
“
Do
you
think
Jamis
’
ll
mind
my
using
it
?
”
