“You… eat melange?”

“Sometimes.”

“But you no longer have human hungers?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She stared at him, waiting.

Leto admired the way she let unspoken questions work for her. She was bright and she had learned much during her short life.

“The stomach hunger was a black feeling, a pain I could not relieve,” he said. “I would run then, run like an insane creature across the dunes.”

“You… ran?”

“My legs were longer in proportion to my body in those days. I could move myself about quite easily. But the hungry pain has never left me. I think it’s hunger for my lost humanity.”

He saw the beginnings of reluctant sympathy in her, the questioning.

“You still have this… pain?”

“It’s only a soft burning now. That’s one of the signs of my final metamorphosis. In a few hundred years I’ll be back under the sand.”

He saw her clench her fists at her sides. “Why?” she demanded. “Why did you do this?”

“This change isn’t all bad. Today, for example, has been very pleasant. I feel quite mellow.”

“There are changes we cannot see,” she said. “I know there must be.” She relaxed her hands.

“My sight and hearing have become extremely acute, but not my sense of touch. Except for my face, I don’t feel things the way I could once. I miss that.”

Again, he noted the reluctant sympathy, the striving toward an empathic understanding. She wanted to know!

“When you live so long,” she said, “how does the passage of time feel? Does it move more rapidly as the years go by?”

“That’s a strange thing, Siona. Sometimes, time rushes by me; sometimes, it creeps.”

Gradually, as they spoke, Leto had been dimming the concealed lights of his aerie, moving his cart closer and closer to Siona. Now, he shut off the lights, leaving only the moon. The front of his cart protruded on to the balcony, his face only about two metres from Siona.

“My father tells me,” she said, “that the older you get the slower your time goes. Is that what you told him?”

Testing my veracity, he thought. She’s not a Truthsayer, then.

“All the things are relative, but compared to the human timesense, this is true.”

“Why?”

“It is involved in what I will become. At the end, time will stop for me and I will be frozen like a pearl caught in ice. My new bodies will scatter, each with a pearl hidden within it.”

She turned and looked away from him, peering out at the desert, speaking without looking at him.

“When I talk to you like this here in the darkness I can almost forget what you are.”

“That’s why I chose this hour for our meeting.”

“But why this place?”

“Because it is the last place where I can feel at home.”

Siona turned against the rail, leaning on it and looking at him. “I want to see you.”

He turned on all of the aerie’s lights, including the harsh white globes along the roof of the balcony’s outer edge. As the light came on, an Ixian-made transparent mask slid out of wall recesses and sealed off the balcony behind Siona. She felt it move behind her and was startled, but nodded as though she understood. She thought it was a defence against attack. It was not. The wall merely kept out the damp insects of the night.