Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [166]
—MOTHER SUPERIOR DARWI ODRADE,
defense before Bene Gesserit Council
When the older and inferior Paul Atreides ghola lay dying on the floor, Paolo turned away, pleased with his victory but far more interested in his other priority. He had proved himself to Omnius and Erasmus. The special ultraspice that would unlock all of his prescient abilities was his now. It would elevate him to the next level, to his exalted destiny—as the Baron had taught him for so long. During that time, Paolo had convinced himself that this was what he wanted, brushing aside any nagging qualms or reservations.
Around the cathedral hall, quicksilver robots stood at attention, ready to attack the remaining humans should Omnius give the order. Maybe Paolo himself would decide to issue such a command, once he was in control. He could hear the pleased laughter of the Baron, the sobs of Chani and Lady Jessica. Paolo wasn’t sure which sounds he enjoyed more. His greatest thrill was the clear proof of what he had always known: I am the one!
He was the one who would change the course of the universe and control the end of Kralizec, guiding the next age of humanity and machines. Did even the evermind know what he was about to face? Paolo allowed himself a secretive, amused smile; he would never be a mere puppet for thinking machines. Omnius would soon learn what the Bene Gesserit had long ago discovered: A Kwisatz Haderach is not to be manipulated!
Paolo slipped the bloody dagger into his waistband, strode over to the Face Dancer, and held out a hand to collect the spoils of combat. “That spice is mine.”
Khrone smiled faintly. “As you wish.” He extended the cinnamony paste. Not interested in savoring it, Paolo quickly consumed a whole messy mouthful, far more than he should have. He wanted what it would unlock within him, and he wanted it right away. The taste was bitter, potent, and powerful. Before the Face Dancer could withdraw the offering, Paolo grabbed more and swallowed another mouthful.
“Not so much, boy!” the Baron said. “Don’t be a glutton.”
“Who are you to talk about gluttony?” Paolo’s retort drew a rumbling chuckle in response.
On the floor where he lay dying, Paul Atreides moaned. Chani looked up in despair from beside her beloved, her fingers dripping with his blood. Her face a grief-stricken mask, Jessica held her son’s clenching hand. Paolo trembled. Why was it taking Paul so long just to die? He should have killed his rival more cleanly.
Kneeling over him, Dr. Yueh worked feverishly to save Paul, trying to stanch the flow of blood, but the Suk doctor’s deeply troubled face told the terrible story. Even his advanced medical training was insufficient. Paolo’s knife strike had done all the damage it had needed to.
Those people were all irrelevant now. Mere seconds had passed when Paolo felt the potent melange burst into his bloodstream like a lasgun blast. His thoughts came faster, sharper. It was working! His mind was suffused with a certainty that outsiders might have considered hubris or megalomania. But Paolo knew it only as Truth.
He drew himself taller, as if he were growing physically and maturing in all ways, so that he loomed above everyone else in the chamber. His mind expanded into the cosmos. Even Omnius and Erasmus now seemed like insects to him, muddling through their grandiose, but ultimately minuscule, dreams.
As if from a great height, Paolo looked down at the Baron, the self-absorbed snake who had spent so many years dominating him, bossing him around, “teaching” him. Suddenly the once-powerful leader of House Harkonnen seemed laughably insignificant.
The Face Dancer Khrone studied the scene, and then—with seeming uncertainty—turned toward the evermind’s manifestation as an old man. Paolo saw through all of them with incredible ease.
“Let me tell you what I will do next.” In his own ears, Paolo’s booming voice sounded like a god’s. Even the great Omnius must tremble before him. Words flowed with the force of a cosmic Coriolis storm, rushing