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their breeding program away from them,” he said.

    “This has nothing to do with breeding.”

    Leto concealed mild amusement. The Duncans were always so sensitive on the subject of breeding, although some of them occasionally stood at stud.

    “I see,” Leto said. “Well, the Bene Gesserit are all more than a little insane, but madness represents a chaotic reservoir of surprises. Some surprises can be valuable.”

    “I fail to see any value in this.”

    “Do you think the Sisterhood was behind this cult?” Leto asked.

    “I do.”

    “Explain.”

    “They had a shrine. They called it ‘The Shrine of the Crysknife.’ ”

    “Did they now?”

    “And their chief priestess was called ‘The Keeper of Jessica’s Light.’ Does that suggest anything?”

    “It’s lovely!” Leto did not try to conceal his amusement.

    “What is lovely about it?”

    “They unite my grandmother and my aunt into a single goddess.”

    Idaho shook his head slowly from side to side, not understanding.

    Leto permitted himself a small internal pause, less than a blink. The grandmother-within did not particularly care for this Giedi Prime cult. He was required to wall off her memories and her identity.

    “What do you suppose was the purpose of this cult?” Leto asked.

    “Obvious. A competing religion to undermine your authority.”

    “That’s too simple. Whatever else they may be, the Bene Gesserit are not simpletons.”

    Idaho waited for an explanation.

    “They want more spice!” Leto said. “More Reverend Mothers.”

    “So they annoy you until you buy them off?”

    “I am disappointed in you, Duncan.”

    Idaho merely stared up at Leto, who contrived a sigh, a complicated gesture no longer intrinsic to his new form. The Duncans usually were brighter, but Leto supposed that this one’s plot had clouded his alertness.

    “They chose Giedi Prime as their home,” Leto said. “What does that suggest?”

    “It was a Harkonnen stronghold, but that’s ancient history.”

    “Your sister died there, a victim of the Harkonnens. It is right that the Harkonnens and Giedi Prime be united in your thoughts. Why did you not mention this earlier?”

    “I didn’t think it was important.”

    Leto drew his mouth into a tight line. The reference to his sister had troubled the Duncan. The man knew intellectually that he was only the latest in a long line of fleshly revivals, all products of the Tleilaxu axlotl tanks and taken from the original cells at that. The Duncan could not escape his revived memories. He knew that the Atreides had rescued him from Harkonnen bondage.

    And whatever else I may be , Leto thought, I am still Atreides.

    “What’re you trying to say?” Idaho demanded.

    Leto decided that a shout was required. He let it be a loud one: “The Harkonnens were spice hoarders!”

    Idaho recoiled a full step.

    Leto continued in a lower voice: “There’s an undiscovered melange hoard on Giedi Prime. The Sisterhood was trying to winkle it out with their religious tricks as a cover.”

    Idaho was abashed. Once it was spoken, the answer appeared obvious.

    And I missed it , he thought.

    Leto’s shout had shaken him back into his role as Commander of the Royal Guard. Idaho knew about the economics of the Empire, simplified in the extreme: no interest charges permitted; cash on the barrelhead. The only coinage bore a likeness of Leto’s cowled face: the God Emperor. But it was all based on the spice, a substance whose value, though enormous, kept increasing. A man could carry the price of an entire planet in his hand luggage.

    “Control the coinage and the courts. Let the rabble have the rest,” Leto thought. Old Jacob Broom said it and Leto could hear the old man chortling within. “Things haven’t changed all that much, Jacob.”

    Idaho took a deep breath. “The Bureau of the Faith should be notified immediately.”

    Leto remained silent.

    Taking this as a cue to continue, Idaho went on with