THE (ALMOST) UNDELETED

“Have you not figured it out by now? I am Serena Butler, the mother of all jihads.”

SandChigger wrote:10,197 AG

Four Years After the Fall of Shaddam IV

So many lives within me, so many voices! A lifetime would not suffice to listen to them all!
—Paul-Muad’Dib Atreides, Meditations of an Emperor

Night had come to Arrakeen, replacing the searing bedlam and broiling clamor of the day with something of the cool silent serenity of the deep desert. And yet Paul could not sleep. He lay awake on the luxurious bedding beside his beloved Chani and waited until her soft, measured breathing told him she was asleep, and then he arose and quietly wrapped himself in a light robe of fine Terrinian broccato before stepping out onto the wide balcony adjoining their bedroom. He signaled for the guard at the far end of the balcony to leave and watched as the man disappeared into a secret passage behind a cleverly concealed door.

At last the Emperor of the Known Universe was alone and stood gazing down upon the sleeping form of the city he had made his capital. How different the face it presented now from that which sweated in the dust and heat of the midday sun. Arrakeen of Dune . . . the name itself was enough to make the hearts of devoted converts leap within their breasts across the Imperium. The daytime streets of the city were choked to impassibility with the pilgrims who flocked to Arrakis, millions every year, overflowing from the shuttles which travelled back and forth all day between the Guild Heighliners in orbit and the growing spaceport on the outskirts of the city. From this vantage point he could see the lights of the landing fields, greatly expanded over the last couple of years to handle the increased volume of traffic.

Paul looked up at the almost unflickering stars and thought of the worlds that circled them, planets from which so many pilgrims came to worship him. And he thought about how many of those worlds were even now the scene of bloody battles in his name. He wanted to close his eyes but knew that doing so would only bring dreams . . . that would give way to the frightening visions that haunted his soul. And also bring the voices. . . .

The Jihad progressed, his fanatical holy warriors spreading ever further afield, bringing destruction to many of the star systems in their path. Paul was wracked with guilt over what he had unleashed on the universe, but still could see no way to rein in the bloodthirsty hordes of his followers. Every solution he imagined led only to even bloodier visions of the future. He was near to despair, made worse by the certain knowledge that his own suicide or death would only intensify the horrors still to come.

“What can I do?!” he implored of the night.

“Perhaps you need counsel other than your own.”

The woman’s voice had come from the far end of the balcony, in the shadows that hid the door to the passage the guard had used. Had some spy or assassin managed to invade his sanctum? A Reverend Mother of the hated Bene Gesserit?

He strained but could see no one there. Then, slowly, as if coalescing from the darkness itself, a figure moved slowly towards him.

“Who are you?!” he challenged, but the woman said nothing and continued to approach. Something about the figure reminded him of the stately, green-eyed beauty he called mother—Jessica. But no, she was on Caladan and he had not seen her since he had returned there with her for a visit three years before. Finally the woman came to a place where her face was lit by the lights of the city below and she stopped. Although by no means old, the face he saw was lined with care. Paul thought to himself that she had probably possessed a classical beauty when younger. Her hair was brown but streaked with gray, and her eyes were piercing. She looked familiar, but he didn’t recognize her.

“My name is the least important of the things that I can tell you,” she said. “I can teach you of the art of jihad, which you desperately need to learn!”

“Who are you?!”

“Never mind that. We haven’t much time this time. You fret and worry that your army is but a horde of fanatics yet seem to forget that a force of fighting fanatics is able to overcome any number of enemy soldiers and weapons!”

“I worry because I have seen the future. I disturbed and awed. The masses-”

“And I have lived the past. To guide, to manipulate the masses who flock to your banner is the only way to defend what must be preserved. To oppose them is to become a rock on the beach, broken and worn away by the tide.”

“Who ARE you?!” Paul cried, growing exasperated.

“Have you not figured it out by now? I am Serena Butler, the mother of all jihads.”

Freakzilla wrote:
Is that for real or did you make that up?

Mr. Teg wrote:

Freakzilla wrote:
Is that for real or did you make that up?

Confused? Most be blown away by the new "high gear" prose...

Ampoliros wrote:I'm still in awe at the 3rd grade grasp they have on Dune. PAUL IS NOT FUCKING PRE-BORN KEVIN! THE VOICES CANNOT THREATEN HIM.

Now if i was emphasizing that in a novel i would put it in Italics. You do actually send these to an Editor, yes?

I think the tag line here should be Paul wonders if the Orthodox Herbertians are going mad.

Yes we are, but not insane mad. Riot mad.

Be afraid.

Freakzilla wrote:

Ampoliros wrote:I'm still in awe at the 3rd grade grasp they have on Dune. PAUL IS NOT FUCKING PRE-BORN KEVIN! THE VOICES CANNOT THREATEN HIM.

Now if i was emphasizing that in a novel i would put it in Italics. You do actually send these to an Editor, yes?

I think the tag line here should be Paul wonders if the Orthodox Herbertians are going mad.

Yes we are, but not insane mad. Riot mad.

Be afraid.

I was wondering about that too. Why is Paul hearing voices and seeing personas from his ancestry appear from thin air?

Is he supposed to be possessed or something?

Omphalos wrote:

Freakzilla wrote:

Ampoliros wrote:I'm still in awe at the 3rd grade grasp they have on Dune. PAUL IS NOT FUCKING PRE-BORN KEVIN! THE VOICES CANNOT THREATEN HIM.

Now if i was emphasizing that in a novel i would put it in Italics. You do actually send these to an Editor, yes?

I think the tag line here should be Paul wonders if the Orthodox Herbertians are going mad.

Yes we are, but not insane mad. Riot mad.

Be afraid.

I was wondering about that too. Why is Paul hearing voices and seeing personas from his ancestry appear from thin air?

Is he supposed to be possessed or something?

Like I said over on Jacurutu, I'm betting that it is the real Serena, and Norma has something to do with this. I cant remembr if Serena was actually killed in the Legends books, or if they just make it look like she died. But with light in her face, and wandering around of rooftops, Im betting that she is corporeal.

Freakzilla wrote:

Ampoliros wrote:I'm still in awe at the 3rd grade grasp they have on Dune. PAUL IS NOT FUCKING PRE-BORN KEVIN! THE VOICES CANNOT THREATEN HIM.

Now if i was emphasizing that in a novel i would put it in Italics. You do actually send these to an Editor, yes?

I think the tag line here should be Paul wonders if the Orthodox Herbertians are going mad.

Yes we are, but not insane mad. Riot mad.

Be afraid.

I was wondering about that too. Why is Paul hearing voices and seeing personas from his ancestry appear from thin air?

Is he supposed to be possessed or something?

Ampoliros wrote:no kidding. But with such a busy schedule can anyone blame him for not being able to full research each book.














YES WE FUCKING CAN.

Freakzilla wrote:

Ampoliros wrote:no kidding. But with such a busy schedule can anyone blame him for not being able to full research each book.

KJA has explained in past interviews that he keeps up by watching dvds and the latest shows on tv. The result is obvious in his prose (what hasn't he pillaged from other scifi stories and franchises to write his version of dune).













YES WE FUCKING CAN.

Research? I don't think he even READ it.