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"Sihaya," he whispered.

Snide old Fremen said he wanted the pilgrims for their water.

"Irulan proposes herself as mother of the Imperial heir," Paul said. He glanced at Chani, back to Irulan, who refused to meet his gaze. "We all know she holds no love for me."

Everywhere there is peace, Paul thought. Everywhereexcept in the heart of Muad'dib.

Irulan stared at the papers in front of Stilgar, her mouth a tight line.

She lifted her chin, a look of pure fury in her eyes. "I don't want your pity "Is there more that's urgent and dire?"

Irulan went very still.

Driven by that deepest religious instinct, the people came, seeking their resurrection. The pilgrimage ended here "Arrakis, the place of rebirth, the place to die."

Everywhere there is peace, Paul thought. Everywhereexcept in the heart of Muad'dib.

Irulan stared at the papers in front of Stilgar, her mouth a tight line.

A hand crept into Paul's. He looked down to see Chani peering up at him, concern in her eyes. Those eyes drank him, and she whispered: "Please, love, do not battle with your ruh-self." An outpouring of emotion swept upward from her hand, buoyed him.

Irulan went very still.

"We must go to the desert soon," she said in a low voice.

Irulan took a deep, shaky breath.

It had, of course, set itself in motion. It was in the genes which might labor for centuries to achieve this brief spasm.

Everywhere there is peace, Paul thought. Everywhereexcept in the heart of Muad'dib.

With a sigh, Paul thought how each new planet his legions subjugated opened new sources of pilgrims. They came out of gratitude for "the peace of Muad'dib."

"Presumably," Stilgar said.

He felt that some element of himself lay immersed in frosty hoar-darkness without end. His prescient power had tampered with the image of the universe held by all mankind. He had shaken the safe cosmos and replaced security with his Jihad. He had out-fought and out-thought and out-predicted the universe of men, but a certainty filled him that this universe still eluded him.

What was it the pilgrims really sought? Paul wondered. They said they came to a holy place. But they must know the universe contained no Eden-source, no Tupile for the soul. They called Arrakis the place of the unknown where all mysteries were explained. This was a link between their universe and the next. And the frightening thing was that they appeared to go away satisfied.

He felt that some element of himself lay immersed in frosty hoar-darkness without end. His prescient power had tampered with the image of the universe held by all mankind. He had shaken the safe cosmos and replaced security with his Jihad. He had out-fought and out-thought and out-predicted the universe of men, but a certainty filled him that this universe still eluded him.

What do they find here? Paul asked himself.

"I know the political arguments," Paul said. "It's the human arguments which concern me. I think if the Princess Consort were not bound by the commands of the Bene Gesserit, if she did not seek this out of desires for personal power, my reaction might be very different. As matters stand, though, I reject this proposal."

Often in their religious ecstasy, they filled the streets with screeching like some odd aviary. In fact, the Fremen called them "passage birds." And the few who died here were "winged souls."

He felt that some element of himself lay immersed in frosty hoar-darkness without end. His prescient power had tampered with the image of the universe held by all mankind. He had shaken the safe cosmos and replaced security with his Jihad. He had out-fought and out-thought and out-predicted the universe of men, but a certainty filled him that this universe still eluded him.

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