[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

commander, but Idaho had rejected them.
It was not like the Atreides to use sex as a persuader!
He looked down at his clothing: a black uniform with golden piping, a red hawk
at the left breast. That, at least, was familiar. No insignia of rank.
"They know your face," Moneo had said.
Strange little man, Moneo.
This thought brought Idaho up short. Reflection told him that Moneo was not
little. Very controlled, yes, but no shorter than I am. Moneo appeared drawn
into himself, though . . . collected.
Idaho glanced around his room-sybaritic in its attention to comfort-soft
cushions, appliances concealed behind panels of brown polished wood. The bath
was an ornate display of pastel blue tiles with a combination bath and shower in
which at least six people could bathe at the same time. The whole place invited
self-indulgence. These were quarters where you could let your senses indulge in
remembered pleasures.
"Clever," Idaho whispered.
A gentle tapping on his door was followed by a female voice saying: "Commander?
Moneo is here."
Idaho glanced out at the sunburnt colors on the distant cliff.
"Commander?" The voice was a bit louder.
"Come in," Idaho called.
Moneo entered, closing the door behind him. He wore tunic and trousers of chalk-
white which forced the eyes to concentrate on his face. Moneo glanced once
around the room.
"So this is where they put you. Those damned women! I suppose they thought they
were being kind, but they ought to know better."
"How do you know what I like?" Idaho demanded. Even as he asked it, he realized
it was a foolish question.
I'm not the first Duncan Idaho that Moneo has seen.
Moneo merely smiled and shrugged.
"I did not mean to offend you, Commander. Will you keep these quarters, then?"
"I like the view."
"But not the furnishings." It was a statement.
"Those can be changed," Idaho said.
"I will see to it."
"I suppose you're here to explain my duties."
"As much as I can. I know how strange everything must appear to you at first.
This civilization is profoundly different from the one you knew."
"I can see that. How did my . . . predecessor die?"
Moneo shrugged. It appeared to be his standard gesture, but there was nothing
self-effacing about it.
"He was not fast enough to escape the consequences of a decision he had made,"
Moneo said.
"Be specific."
Moneo sighed. The Duncans were always like this-so demanding.
"The rebellion killed him. Do you wish the details?"
"Would they be useful to me?"
"No."
"I'll want a complete briefing on this rebellion today, but first: why are there
no men in Leto's army?"
"He has you."
"You know what I mean."
"He has a curious theory about armies. I have discussed it with him on many
occasions. But do you not want to breakfast before I explain?"
"Can't we have both at the same time?"
Moneo turned toward the door and called out a single word: "Now!"
The effect was immediate and fascinating to Idaho. A troop of young Fish
Speakers swarmed into the room. Two of them took a folding table and chairs from
behind a panel and placed them on the balcony. Others set the table for two
people. More brought food-fresh fruit, hot rolls and a steaming drink which
smelled faintly of spice and caffeine. It was all done with a swift and silent
efficiency which spoke of long practice. They left as they had come, without a
word.
Idaho found himself seated across from Moneo at the table within a minute after
the start of this curious performance.
"Every morning like that?" Idaho asked.
"Only if you wish it."
Idaho sampled the drink: melange-coffee. He recognized the fruit, the soft
Caladan melon called paradan.
My favorite.
"You know me pretty well," Idaho said.
Moneo smiled. "We've had some practice. Now, about your question."
"And Leto's curious theory."
"Yes. He says that the all-male army was too dangerous to its civilian support
base."
"That's crazy! Without the army, there would've been no...
"I know the argument. But he says that the male army was a survival of the
screening function delegated to the nonbreeding males in the prehistoric pack.
He says it was a curiously consistent fact that it was always the older males
who sent the younger males into battle."
"What does that mean, screening function?"
"The ones who were always out on the dangerous perimeter protecting the core of
breeding males, females and the young. The ones who first encountered the
predator."
"How is that dangerous to the . . . civilians?"
Idaho took a bite of the melon, found it ripened perfectly.
"The Lord Leto says that when it was denied an external enemy, the all-male army
always turned against its own population. Always."
"Contending for the females?"
"Perhaps. He obviously does not believe, however, that it was that simple."
"I don't find this a curious theory."
"You have not heard all of it."
"There's more?"
"Oh, yes. He says that the all-male army has a strong tendency toward homosexual
activities."
Idaho glared across the table at Moneo. "I never. . ."
"Of course not. He is speaking about sublimation, about deflected energies and
all the rest of it."
"The rest of what?" Idaho was prickly with anger at what he saw as an attack on
his male self-image.
"Adolescent attitudes, just boys together, jokes designed purely to cause pain,
loyalty only to your pack-mates . . . things of that nature."
Idaho spoke coldly. "What's your opinion?"
"I remind myself=" Moneo turned and spoke while looking out at the view='of
something which he has said and which I am sure is true. He is every soldier in
human history. He offered to parade for me a series of examples-famous military
figures who were frozen in adolescence. I declined the offer. I have read my
history with care and have recognized this characteristic for myself."
Moneo turned and looked directly into Idaho's eyes.
"Think about it, Commander." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]