Garun’s knuckles went white on the knife haft. He addressed himself to Siona. “Who is this man?”

Nayla spoke up: “This is Duncan Idaho.”

“The ghola?” Garun turned to look at Idaho’s face. “We have never seen your like here before.”

Idaho felt himself almost overcome by a sudden desire to cleanse this place even if it cost him his life, this diminished life which could be repeated endlessly by people who had no real concern for him. An older model, yes! But this was no Fremen.

“Draw that knife or take your hand off it,” Idaho said.

Garun jerked his hand away from the knife. “It is not a real knife,” he said. “Only for decoration.” His voice became eager. “But we have real knives, even crysknives! They are kept locked in the display cases to preserve them.”

Idaho could not help himself. He threw his head back in laughter. Siona smiled, but Nayla looked thoughtful and the rest of the Fish Speaker troop drew into a close, watchful circle around them.

The laughter had an odd effect on Garun. He lowered his head and clasped his hands tightly together, but not before Idaho saw them trembling. When Garun peered upward once more, it was to look at Idaho from beneath heavy brows. Idaho felt abruptly sobered. It was as though some terrible boot had crushed Garun’s ego into fearful subservience. There was watchful waiting in the man’s eyes. And for no reason he could explain, Idaho remembered a passage from the Orange Catholic Bible. He asked himself: Are these the meek who will outwait us all and inherit the universe?

Garun cleared his throat, then: “Perhaps the ghola Duncan Idaho will witness our ways and our ritual and judge them?”

Idaho felt ashamed by the plaintive request. He spoke without thinking: “I will teach you anything Fremen that I know.” He looked up to see Nayla scowling at him. “It will help to pass the time,” he said. “And who knows? It may return something of the true Fremen to this land.”

Siona said: “We’ve no need to play old cultish games! Take us to our quarters.”

Nayla lowered her head in embarrassment and spoke without looking at Siona. “Commander, there is a thing I have not ventured to tell you.”

“That you must make sure we stay in this filthy place,” Siona said.

“Oh, no!” Nayla looked up at Siona’s face. “Where could you go? The Wall cannot be climbed and there is only the river beyond it, anyway. And in the other direction, it is the Sareer. Oh, no… it is something else.” Nayla shook her head.

“Out with it!” Siona snapped.

“I am under the strictest orders, Commander, which I dare not disobey.” Nayla glanced at the other members of the troop then back to Siona. “You and the… Duncan Idaho are to be quartered together.”

“My father’s orders?”

“Lady Commander, they are said to be the orders of the God Emperor himself and we dare not disobey.”