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wildly—and some will blame you, as the mother of Muad’Dib.”
    “That’s who I am, for good or ill.”
    The terminal building looked brighter than she remembered, but not much different: a fresh coat of paint and more decorations, perhaps. She didn’t recall seeing so many Atreides hawks on the walls the last time—Paul’s doing, or Alia’s? New alcoves displayed statues of Muad’Dib in various heroic poses.
    Stilgar led them up a staircase to the rooftop landing platform, where a gray armored ornithopter sat waiting for them. “This will take you to the protection of the Citadel. You are in good hands now.” Without further words, Stilgar hurried away, anxious to get back to the crowds to investigate the explosion.
    A man strode toward them dressed in a stillsuit marked with Atreides green and black; the face mask hung loose. A chill of amazed recognition ran down her spine. “Lady Jessica, welcome back to Dune. Much has happened since the time I died here.”
    Gurney shouted his own disbelief. “Gods below—Duncan?”
    The man was almost an exact duplicate of Duncan Idaho. Even his voice was perfect; only the gray, metallic eyes distinguished him from the original. “In the flesh, Gurney Halleck—ghola flesh, but the memories are mine.”
    He extended his right hand, but Gurney hesitated. “Or are you the one the Tleilaxu call Hayt?”
    “Hayt was a ghola without his memories, a biological machine programmed to destroy Paul Atreides. I am no longer that one. I’mDuncan again—the same old Duncan. The boy who worked in the Old Duke’s bull stables on Caladan, the young man who trained on Ginaz to become a Swordmaster, the man who protected Paul from House Moritani assassins and fought to liberate Ix from the Tleilaxu.” He offered Jessica a sheepish smile. “And, yes, the man who got drunk on spice beer and blurted to everyone awake in the Arrakeen Residency that you were a Harkonnen traitor, my Lady.”
    Jessica met his strange eyes. “You also gave your life so Paul and I could escape after Dr. Kynes’s base was raided.” She could not drive away the memory of the original Duncan falling under a flurry of Sardaukar dressed in Harkonnen uniforms. Seeing the ghola gave her an unsettled feeling, as if time had folded in on itself.
    Now this Duncan gestured toward the ’thopter, inviting them to climb aboard. Despite its thick armor, the large aircraft had a luxurious interior.
    When she entered the passenger compartment, Jessica was startled to see Alia seated, facing her direction. “Thank you for coming, Mother. I need you here.” Seemingly embarrassed by the admission, she added, “We all do.” The teenager’s coppery hair was long, and her face thinner than before, making her blue-within-blue eyes look larger.
    “Of course I came.” Jessica took a seat beside her daughter. “I came for Paul, for you, and for my new grandchildren.”
    “ ‘Tragedy brings us together, when convenience fails to do so,’ ” Gurney recited.

 

     
     
No one is ever completely forced into his position in life. We all have opportunities to take different paths.
—
Conversations with Muad’Dib
by the PRINCESS IRULAN

     
     
     
     
    I nside the ’thopter, Jessica was surprised when Duncan sat close to Alia, rather than taking the pilot’s controls, leaving that particular task to a Fremen guard. Smiling, Alia touched his arm with genuine warmth, an obvious romantic bond. So much had changed on Dune, and in House Atreides. . . .
    “Of course, you will want to see that the twins are safe, Mother.” Alia turned to Duncan. “Tell the pilot to use the west landing pad. We’ll go directly to the creche.”
    The boy and girl, Paul’s children, would never know their father. The twins were the heirs of Muad’Dib, the next step in a new dynasty, political pawns. Her
grandchildren
. “Have they been named yet? Did Paul . . . ?”
    “My brother gave them names as one of his last acts, before he