“She should not be let out of the Chapter House without a guardian,” Leto said, addressing Anteac. “Is she afraid to address her own memories?”

Luyseyal paled, but remained silent.

Leto studied her coldly. “Our ancestors’ long unconscious relationship with machines has taught us something, don’t you think?”

Luyseyal merely glared at him, not ready yet to risk death through open defiance of the God Emperor.

“Would you say we at least know the attraction of machines?” Leto asked.

Luyseyal nodded.

“A well maintained machine can be more reliable than a human servant,” Leto said. “We can trust machines not to indulge in emotional distractions.”

Luyseyal found her voice. “Does this mean you intend to remove the Butlerian prohibition against abominable machines?”

“I swear to you,” Leto said, speaking in his icy voice of disdain, “that if you display further such stupidity I will have you publicly executed. I am not your Oracle!”

Luyseyal opened her mouth and closed it without speaking.

Anteac touched her companion’s arm, sending a quick tremor through Luyseyal’s body. Anteac spoke softly in an exquisite demonstration of Voice: “Our God Emperor will never openly defy the proscriptions of the Butlerian Jihad.”

Leto smiled at her, a gentle commendation. It was such a pleasure to see a professional performing at her best.

“That should be obvious to any conscious intelligence,” he said. “There are limits of my own choosing, places where I will not interfere.”

He could see both women absorbing the multi-pronged thrust of his words, weighing the possible meanings and intents. Was the God Emperor distracting them, focusing their attention on the Ixians while he manoeuvred elsewhere? Was he telling the Bene Gesserit that the time had come to choose sides against the Ixians? Was it possible his words had no more than their surface motivations? Whatever his reasons, they could not be ignored. He was undoubtedly the most devious creature the universe had ever spawned.

Leto scowled at Luyseyal, knowing he could only add to their confusion. “I point out to you, Marcus Claire Luyseyal, a lesson from past over-machined societies which you appear not to have learned. The devices themselves condition the users to employ each other the way they employ machines.”

He turned his attention to Moneo. “Moneo?”

“I see him, Lord.”

Moneo craned his neck to peer over the Bene Gesserit entourage. Duncan Idaho had entered the far portal, and strode across the open floor of the chamber toward Leto. Moneo did not relax his wariness, his distrust of the Bene Gesserit, but he recognized the nature of Leto’s lecture. He is testing, always testing.

Anteac cleared her throat. “Lord, what of our reward?”

“You are brave,” Leto said. “No doubt that’s why you were chosen for this Embassy. Very well, for the next decade I will continue your spice allotment at its present level. As for the rest, I will ignore what you really intended with the spice essence. Am I not generous?”

“Most generous, Lord,” Anteac said, and there was not the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice.