“What I did this morning was unforgivable,” Moneo said. “Therefore, I do not ask you to forgive me. I merely ask that you try to understand.”

Hwi did not appear surprised by this opening, Idaho noted. It revealed much about what the two of them had been discussing before Idaho’s arrival.

When Idaho did not respond, Moneo said: “I had no right to make you feel inadequate.”

Idaho found himself undergoing a curious response to Moneo’s words and manner. There was still the feeling of being outmanoeuvred and outclassed, too far from his time, but he no longer suspected that Moneo might be toying with him. Something had reduced the majordomo to a gritty substratum of honesty. The realization put Leto’s universe, the deadly eroticism of the Fish Speakers, Hwi’s undeniable candour—everything into a new relationship, a form which Idaho felt that he understood. It was as though the three of them in this room were the last true humans in the entire universe. He spoke from a sense of wry self-deprecation:

“You had every right to protect yourself when I attacked you. It pleases me that you were so capable.”

Idaho turned toward Hwi, but before he could speak, Moneo said: “You needn’t plead for me. I think her displeasure toward me is quite adamant.”

Idaho shook his head. “Does everyone here know what I’m going to say before I say it, what I’m going to feel before I feel it?”

“One of your admirable qualities,” Moneo said. “You do not conceal your feelings. We…” he shrugged, “… are necessarily more circumspect.”

Idaho looked at Hwi. “Does he speak for you?”

She put her hand in Idaho’s. “I speak for myself.”

Moneo craned to peer at the clasped hands, sank back on his cushion. He sighed. “You must not.”

Idaho clasped her hand more tightly, felt her equal response.

“Before either of you asks,” Moneo said, “my daughter and the God Emperor have not yet returned from the testing.”

Idaho sensed the effort Moneo had required to speak calmly. Hwi heard it, too.

“Is it true what the Fish Speakers say?” she asked. “Siona dies if she fails?”

Moneo remained silent, but his face was a rock.

“Is it like the Bene Gesserit test?” Idaho asked. “Muad’Dib said the Sisterhood tests to try to find out if you are human.”

Hwi’s hand began to tremble. Idaho felt it and looked at her. “Did they test you?”

“No,” Hwi said, “but I heard the young ones talking about it. They said you must pass through agony without losing your sense of self.”

Idaho returned his attention to Moneo, noting the start of a tic beside the majordomo’s left eye.

“Moneo,” Idaho breathed, overcome by sudden realization. “He tested you!”

“I do not wish to discuss tests,” Moneo said. “We are here to decide what must be done about you two.”

“Isn’t that up to us?” Idaho asked. He felt Hwi’s hand in his grow slippery with perspiration.

“It is up to the God Emperor,” Moneo said.