fh.godemperorofdune-第1章

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f　Rakis：
　IT　NOT　only　is　my　pleasure　to　announce　to　you　this　morning　our　discovery　of　this　marvelous　storehouse　containing；　among　other　things；　a　monumental　collection　of　manuscripts　inscribed　on　ridulian　crystal　paper；　but　I　also　take　pride　in　giving　you　our　arguments　for　the　authenticity　of　our　discoveries；　to　tell　you　why　we　believe　we　have　uncovered　the　original　journals　of　Leto　II；　the　God　Emperor。
　First；　let　me　recall　to　you　the　historical　treasure　which　we　all　know　by　the　name　of　The　Stolen　Journals；　those　volumes　of　known　antiquity　which　over　the　centuries　have　been　so　valuable　in　helping　us　to　understand　our　ancestors。　As　you　all　know；　The　Stolen　Journals　were　deciphered　by　the　Spacing　Guild；　and　the　method　of　the　Guild　Key　was　employed　to　translate　these　newly　discovered　volumes。　No　one　denies　the　antiquity　of　the　Guild　Key　and　it；　and　it　alone；　translates　these　volumes。
　Second；　these　volumes　were　printed　by　an　Ixian　dictatel　of　truly　ancient　make。　The　Stolen　Journals　leave　no　doubt　that　this　was　in　fact　the　method　employed　by　Leto　II　to　record　his　historical　observations。
　Third　and　we　believe　that　this　is　equal　in　portent　to　the　actual　discovery；　there　is　the　storehouse　itself。　The　repository　for　these　journals　is　an　undoubted　Ixian　artifact　of　such　primitive　and　yet　marvelous　construction　that　it　is　sure　to　throw　new　light　on　the　historical　epoch　known　as　〃The　Scattering。〃　As　was　to　be　expected；　the　storehouse　was　invisible。　It　was　buried　far　deeper　than　myth　and　the　Oral　History　had　led　us　to　expect　and　it　emitted　radiation　and　absorbed　radiation　to　simulate　the　natural　character　of　its　surroundings；　a　mechanical　mimesis　which　is　not　surprising　of　itself。　What　has　surprised　our　engineers；　however；　is　the　way　this　was　done　with　the　most　rudimentary　and　truly　primitive　mechanical　skills。
　I　can　see　that　some　of　you　are　as　excited　by　this　as　we　were。
　We　believe　we　are　looking　at　the　first　Ixian　Globe；　the　noroom　from　which　all　such　devices　evolved。　If　it　is　not　actually　the　first；　we　believe　it　must　be　one　of　the　first　and　embodying　the　same　principles　as　the　first。
　Let　me　address　your　obvious　curiosity　by　assuring　you　that　we　will　take　you　on　a　brief　tour　of　the　storehouse　presently。　We　will　ask　only　that　you　maintain　silence　while　within　the　storehouse　because　our　engineers　and　other　specialists　are　still　at　work　there　unraveling　the　mysteries。
　Which　brings　me　to　my　fourth　point；　and　this　may　well　be　the　capstone　of　our　discoveries。　It　is　with　emotions　difficult　to　describe　that　I　reveal　to　you　now　another　discovery　at　this　site…namely；　actual　oral　recordings　which　are　labeled　as　having　been　made　by　Leto　II　in　the　voice　of　his　father；　Paul　Muad'Dib。　Since　authenticated　recordings　of　the　God　Emperor　are　lodged　in　the　Bene　Gesserit　Archives；　we　have　sent　a　sampling　of　our　recordings；　all　of　which　were　made　on　an　ancient　microbubble　system；　to　the　Sisterhood　with　a　formal　request　that　they　conduct　a　parison　test。　We　have　little　doubt　that　the　recordings　will　be　authenticated。
　Now；　please　turn　your　attention　to　the　translated　excerpts　which　were　handed　to　you　as　you　entered。　Let　me　take　this　opportunity　to　apologize　for　their　weight。　I　have　heard　some　of　you　joking　about　that。　We　used　ordinary　paper　for　a　practical　reason…economy。　The　original　volumes　are　inscribed　in　symbols　so　small　that　they　must　be　magnified　substantially　before　they　can　be　read。　In　fact；　it　requires　more　than　forty　ordinary　volumes　of　the　type　you　now　hold　just　to　reprint　the　contents　of　one　of　the　ridulian　crystal　originals。
　If　the　projector…yes。　We　are　now　projecting　part　of　an　original　page　onto　the　screen　at　your　left。　This　is　from　the　first　page　of　the　first　volume。　Our　translation　is　on　the　screens　to　the　right。　I　call　your　attention　to　the　internal　evidence；　the　poetic　vanity　of　the　words　as　well　as　the　meaning　derived　from　the　translation。　The　style　conveys　a　personality　which　is　identifiable　and　consistent。　We　believe　that　this　could　only　have　been　written　by　someone　who　had　the　direct　experience　of　ancestral　memories；　by　someone　laboring　to　share　that　extraordinary　experience　of　previous　lives　in　a　way　that　could　be　understood　by　those　not　so　gifted。
　Look　now　at　the　actual　meaning　content。　All　of　the　references　accord　with　everything　history　has　told　us　about　the　one　person　whom　we　believe　is　the　only　person　who　could　have　written　such　an　account。
　We　have　another　surprise　for　you　now。　I　have　taken　the　liberty　of　inviting　the　well…known　poet；　Rebeth　Vreeb；　to　share　the　platform　with　us　this　morning　and　to　read　from　this　first　page　a　short　passage　of　our　translation。　It　is　our　observation　that；　even　in　translation；　these　words　take　on　a　different　character　when　read　aloud。　We　want　to　share　with　you　a　truly　extraordinary　quality　which　we　have　discovered　in　these　volumes。
　Ladies　and　gentlemen；　please　wele　Rebeth　Vreeb。
　
　From　the　reading　by　Rebeth　Vreeb：
　I　ASSURE　you　that　I　am　the　book　of　fate。
　Questions　are　my　enemies。　For　my　questions　explode！　Answers　leap　up　like　a　frightened　flock；　blackening　the　sky　of　my　inescapable　memories。　Not　one　answer；　not　one　suffices。
　What　prisms　flash　when　I　enter　the　terrible　field　of　my　past。　I　am　a　chip　of　shattered　flint　enclosed　in　a　box。　The　box　gyrates　and　quakes。　I　am　tossed　about　in　a　storm　of　mysteries。　And　when　the　box　opens；　I　return　to　this　presence　like　a　stranger　in　a　primitive　land。
　Slowly　（slowly；　I　say）　I　relearn　my　name。
　But　that　is　not　to　know　myself！
　This　person　of　my　name；　this　Leto　who　is　the　second　of　that　calling；　finds　other　voices　in　his　mind；　other　names　and　other　places。　Oh；　I　promise　you　（as　I　have　been　promised）　that　I　answer　to　but　a　single　name。　If　you　say；　〃Leto；〃　I　respond。　Sufferance　makes　this　true；　sufferance　and　one　thing　more：
　I　hold　the　threads！
　All　of　them　are　mine。　Let　me　but　imagine　a　topicsay。。。men　who　have　died　by　the　sword…and　I　have　them　in　all　of　their　gore；　every　image　intact；　every　moan；　every　grimace。
　Joys　of　motherhood；　I　think；　and　the　birthing　beds　are　mine。　Serial　baby　smiles　and　the　sweet　cooings　of　new　generations。　The　first　walkings　of　the　toddlers　and　the　first　victories　of　youths　brought　forth　for　me　to　share。　They　tumble　one　upon　another　until　I　can　see　little　else　but　sameness　and　repetition。
　〃Keep　it　all　intact；〃　I　warn　myself。　Who　can　deny　the　value　of　such　experiences；　the　worth　of　learning　through　which　I　view　each　new　instant？　Ahhh；　but　it's　the　past。　Don't　you　understand？　It's　only　the　past！
　
　This　morning　I　was　born　in　a　yurt　at　the　edge　of　a　horse…plain　in　a　land　of　a　planet　which　no　longer　exists。　Tomorrow　I　will　be　born　someone　else　in　another　place。　II　have　not　yet　chosen。　This　morning；　though…ahhh；　this　life！　When　my　eyes　had　learned　to　focus；　I　looked　out　at　sunshine　on　trampled　grass　and　I　saw　vigorous　people　going　about　the　sweet　activities　of　their　lives。　Where。。。　oh　where　has　all　of　that　vigor　gone？
　…The　Stolen　Journals
　THE　THREE　people　running　northward　through　moon　shadows　in　the　Forbidden　Forest　were　strung　out　along　almost　half　a　kilometer。　The　last　runner　in　the　line　ran　less　than　a　hundred　meters　ahead　of　the　pursuing　D…wolves。　The　animals　could　be　heard　yelping　and　panting　in　their　eagerness；　the　way　they　do　when　they　have　the　prey　in　sight。
　With　First　Moon　almost　directly　overhead；　it　was　quite　light　in　the　forest　and；　although　these　were　the　higher　latitudes　of　Arrakis　it　was　still　warm　from　the　heat　of　a　summer　day。　The　nightly　drift　of　air　from　the　Last　Desert　of　the　Sareer　carried　resin　smells　and　the　damp　exhalations　of　the　duff　underfoot。　Now　and　again；　a　breeze　from　the　Kynes　Sea　beyond　the　Sareer　drifted　across　the　runners'　tracks　with　hints　of　salt　and　fishes。
　By　a　quirk　of　fate；　the　last　runner　was　called　Ulot；　which　in　the　Fremen　tongue　means　〃Beloved　Straggler。〃　Ulot　was　short　in　stature　and　with　a　tendency　to　fat　which　had　placed　an　extra　dieting　burden　on　him　in　training　for　this　venture。　Even　when　slimmed　down　for　their　desperate　run；　his　face　remained　round；　the　large　brown　eyes　vulnerable　in　that　suggestion　of　too　much　flesh。
　To　Ulot　it　was　obvious　that　he　could　not　run　much　farther。　He　panted　and　wheezed。　Occasionally；　he　s