PROLOGUE - THE GATE
 

The period of ideologically fueled, socio-cultural galaxy-wide upheaval over six millennia ago known as the Butlerian Jihad freed mankind of its unhealthy entanglement in the webs of constraints created by the omnipresence of machines, thinking as well as non-thinking. The founders of our Sisterhood understood this surge in the fabric of history as a return to a reliance on natural cognitive capabilities, forced upon us by the balancing tendencies of the universe itself. Apart from inspiring the development of our training methods, helping us control the awakening and maintenance of Other Memories in our Reverend Mothers, the effects of the Jihad eventually also supplied us with the means with which to fulfill our goal of ushering our society into maturity. The solution we have found is genetic in nature. We believe the provisionary breeding program we have constructed will generate a male with the desired characteristics within fifty generations. The necessary changes to the activities of the Missionaria Protectiva which will prepare a place for him in the various parts of the Empire are already in development.
-Reverend Mother Superior Saldosa Wend, adressing the Council of Proctors. From the Bene Gesserit Archives-
 

How cruel this desert is, to allow such destructive forces to find sustenance in it.

Alia's thoughts flowed mercilessly onward, the events to come fueling their advance. In appearance she was still a toddler, but her mind was a match for the most experienced and wise. While still in the womb, the acceptance of the Other Memories of generations of Bene Gesserit Reverend Mothers by her mother had awakened her own mind to full maturity in an instant, effectively making her a Reverend Mother as well. She had always thought of her misleading physical appearance as a useful tool, allowing her to defeat most intellectual opponents quickly by taking advantage of their lowered defenses, but now the stress of what she had experienced recently and knew she had yet to experience was exacting its toll on her fragile physique. She was frightened by what she had seen, but she understood the necessity of those events.

The lack of some of the most basic necessities the desert confronted its inhabitants with often hindered the growth of life on its own terms, but stimulated the rise to dominance of other aspects. Tendencies developed under severe pressure were the most powerful of all, and could wreak havoc when supplied with an appropriate target, as well as a compatible conduit for the energies generated by them.

My brother is such a conduit, and soon I will be one as well, Alia realised. Shaped by a past they had not wished for, both would have to play out their parts in a much larger play - a play that would reach a vital plot twist soon.

She suspected her brother understood that something of great importance was about to happen, but failed to see what it was exactly, and what role he himself would play in the coming events.

Alia had not felt the need to be subtle about her inquiries. "My brother, are you the Kwisatz Haderach?", she had asked him.

Paul and Alia had been in his private quarters in Sietch Tabr - a dimly lit cave cut out of the rock, its walls covered with large spice-fibre rugs and pillows of various sizes scattered across the floor. Paul sat in a corner, immersed in thought.

Half an hour earlier, both had been present at a meeting with all the Fremen Naibs, intended to remove the last few obstacles impeding the advancement of the military strike on Arrakeen. The obstinance a few of the Fremen leaders continued to display, despite their obvious respect for their Lisan al-Gaib, had not improved Paul's mood, nor the faith he had in himself and his plan.

Alia's question startled him in its honesty and bluntness. It took a while for him to process the inquiry, and consider its implications. Despite the fact she's my sister and I've known her for as long as she has been alive, the way someone of her age can unerringly reach for anyone's sore spots is still unsettling to me. What does she intend to say here? She knows about my insecurities, and, technically being a Reverend Mother, most certainly understands better than most how I fit into the Bene Gesserit scheme.

Before Paul could react, Alia continued. "My Reverend Mothers-within fear you. They want me to attempt to kill you."

"It is wise of them to fear me. The Bene Gesserit manipulate politics, and my plan does not allow them to continue their activities on the current scale."

"That is not the reason, dear brother."

Paul eyes went wide, and he had to restrain himself from bursting into laughter. How condescending she could be! She wanted it to be clear there was a lesson he needed to learn. Typical Bene Gesserit behaviour.

Alia moved towards Paul, and stared into his eyes. "What do you see in your trances?"

Paul gazed into his sister's eyes, seeing a ferocious clarity there that scared him. Fremen strength and tenacity combined with the knowledge and abilities of a Reverend Mother. Dangerous! Her question cuts right to the heart of the matter.

"I see my death, and the deaths of many others. I see disaster."

A number of different strands originated at this point in time, and one of them inevitably lead to the Jihad - Fremen troops washing over the Empire, killing millions upon millions in his name. He feared that future, but the alternatives were infinitely worse.

"I am not the Kwisatz Haderach, sister. I am a seed, and this planet and the Fremen are the soil that will give what will grow from me sustenance and stability."

A seed. Does he realise the full meaning of the word he uses to describe himself? Alia walked towards the curtain separating the room from the hallway, swung it aside, and turned to speak. "Every organism will claim a certain portion of the available energy in a system. Every organism does so to the disadvantage of the other organisms competing for a place in the same niche. Still, no organism merely consumes - a fundamental aspect of life consists in the exchange of energy with the environment."

"I don't have time to rehash lessons in ecology, sister. Please get to the point or leave."

"I only have one question: What is it that you extract from your environment, and what happens to the environment because of that?" Alia stepped into the hallway and walked away, leaving Paul behind in confusion.

Remembering that discussion, Alia realised her brother was on the verge of a breakthrough in understanding, but did not quite see the details yet. Perhaps he isn't supposed to fully understand.

Even the beauty of the vista that presented itself to her now could not soften the pain of her realisation that the Fates were harsh mistresses. She stood on a ledge at one of the lesser southern entrances of Sietch Tabr, and looked out across the Funeral Plain. The wind carried red streaks of sand across the silvery sky, dissipating the harsh light of one of Arrakis' suns. Her black, body-length robe danced in the wind, and she could feel the grains of sand stinging her cheeks, the irritation failing to subside into numbness while the flux of the sand on her face gradually increased. The storm would be intense.

This was her land, and in her personal experience as well as her Other Memories she had seen such storms many times before. Still, the scene currently impressed upon her senses failed to generate a sensation of familiarity. The way one perceives the world is not only determined by outside stimulus, but also by one's internal constitution - one's feelings and thoughts at a certain moment. These were in turn influenced by both the composition of the socio-cultural context in which one had been conditioned to respond to outward stimuli in a certain way, as well as the immediately pertinent personal history.

That last factor was most influential in the processes that led to Alia's current state of mind, but it was compounded by a fairly unique ability she shared with her brother, an emergent property of their Atreides heritage - her prescience. While a similar faculty could be found in the steersmen of the Guild, the consortium regulating interplanetary travel in the Empire, their ability was enforced by a combination of biogenetic engineering and the workings of the Spice, the powerful awareness spectrum narcotic only found on Arrakis.

Exactly therein lies the danger! Alia thought. I'm not supposed to know these things, even with my prescience. The things she had seen struck fear in her heart, but at the same time she realised they needed to come to pass. My role is not to spearhead the natural unfolding of the universe. My brother and his son will do that. I can only be a rock that slightly bends the stream, not the source of the stream itself.

What an odd analogy for a Fremen to use, she realised after a moment. She once again swept her gaze over the Funeral Plain. So dry?

She suddenly felt the dryness in her mouth. The implications of her decision to decline wearing the proscribed nose plugs and mouth mask while venturing outside the sietch's moisture seals manifested themselves now: she reckoned she had lost at least a quarter of a liter of water. Before returning inside, she glanced west to see a Sardaukar contingent approaching in the distance. They concealed themselves well, but weren't nearly careful enough to fool her desert-honed Fremen senses.

She walked through the twisting corridors of rock towards her private quarters, and briefly looked in on her nephew - sleeping, unaware of the fate that was about to befall him.

"This is how it needs to be, young Leto", she whispered. "Don't worry, it is for the best. Your namesake will assume the burden for you."

She approached the sleeper, a boy even younger than she. For a moment, she admired the resemblance to his father, which was striking even at his young age. She pulled out her crysknife, and silently slit the boy's throat. "Find the gate of ivory, and be free. You'll be back soon enough."

Alia sheathed the knife, and sat down beside the bed. In the distance she heard sietch guards struggling with the imperial troops. I must forget. My knowledge and abilities cannot be allowed to overshadow those of my brother and his future son. They need to become the architects, not I.

With three short breaths, Alia entered a trance, and shortly conversed with her mother-within. It is time, mother. I give you these memories. Guard them well.

My daughter, do you not see the dangers of the path you've chosen for yourself? Doing this vastly increases the risk of ...

Alia intervened sharply, and immediately regretted her loss of composure. I know, but we talked about what needed to be done. I has to be this way!

Very well. Please be careful.

She awakened only a few seconds after she had entered the trance, just as two Sardaukar burst into the room.

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