Table of ContentsTitle PageCopyright PageDedicationBook One - DUNEBook Two MUAD‘DIBBook Three - THE

PROPHETAPPENDIXESTerminology of theImperiumCARTOGRAPHIC NOTESAfterword by BrianHerbert





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To the people whose laborsgo beyondideas into the realm of “realmaterials”—tothe dry-land ecologists,whereverthey may be, in whatever timethey work,this effort at prediction isdedicated inhumility and admiration.

Book OneDUNE






aDisfohp-from “Manual of Muad’Dib” bythe Princess IrulanIN THE week before theirdeparture to Arrakis, when allthe final scurrying about hadreached a nearly unbearablefrenzy, an old crone came tovisit the mother of the boy,Paul.

It was a warm night atCastle Caladan, and theancient pile of stone that hadserved the Atreides family ashomefortwenty-sixgenerations bore that cooledsweat feeling it acquiredbefore a change in theweather.The old woman was let inby the side door down thevaulted passage by Paul’sroom and she was allowed amoment to peer in at him

where he lay in his bed.By the half-light of asuspensor lamp, dimmed andhanging near the floor, theawakened boy could see abulky female shape at hisdoor, standing one step aheadof his mother. The oldwoman was a witch shadow—hairlikemattedspiderwebs, hooded ’rounddarkness of features, eyes likeglittering jewels.“Is he not small for his age,

Jessica?” the old womanasked. Her voice wheezedand twanged like an untunedbaliset.Paul’s mother answered inher soft contralto: “TheAtreides are known to startlate getting their growth,Your Reverence.”“So I’ve heard, so I’veheard,” wheezed the oldwoman. “Yet he’s alreadyfifteen.”“Yes, Your Reverence.”

“He’s awake and listeningto us,” said the old woman.“Sly little rascal.” Shechuckled. “But royalty hasneed of slyness. And if he’sreally the Kwisatz Haderach. well.”Within the shadows of hisbed, Paul held his eyes opento mere slits. Two bird-brightovals—the eyes of the oldwoman—seemed to expandand glow as they stared intohis.

“Sleep well, you sly littlerascal,” said the old woman.“Tomorrow you’ll need allyour faculties to meet mygom jabbar.”And she was gone, pushinghis mother out, closing thedoor with a solid thump.Paul lay awake wondering:What’s a gom jabbar?In all the upset during thistime of change, the oldwoman was the strangestthing he had seen.

Your Reverence.And the way she called hismother Jessica like a commonserving wench instead ofwhat she was—a BeneGesserit Lady, a duke’sconcubine and mother of theducal heir.Is a gom jabbar somethingof Arrakis I must know beforewe go there? he wondered.He mouthed her strangewords: Gomjabbar. KwisatzHaderach.

There had been so manythings to learn. Arrakis wouldbe a place so different fromCaladan that Paul’s mindwhirled with the newknowledge. Arrakis—Dune—Desert Planet.Thufir Hawat, his father’sMaster of Assassins, hadexplained it: their mortalenemies, the Harkonnens, hadbeen on Arrakis eighty years,holding the planet in quasifief under a CHOAM

Company contract to minethe geriatric spice, melange.Now the Harkonnens wereleaving to be replaced by theHouse of Atreides in fiefcomplete-an apparent victoryfor the Duke Leto. Yet,Hawathadsaid,thisappearance contained thedeadliest peril, for the DukeLeto was popular among theGreatHousesoftheLandsraad.“A popular man arouses

the jealousy of the powerful,”Hawat had said.Arrakis—Dune—DesertPlanet.Paul fell asleep to dream ofan Arrakeen cavern, silentpeople all around him movingin the dim light ofglowglobes. It was solemnthere and like a cathedral ashe listened to a faint sound—the drip-drip-drip of water.Even while he remained inthe dream, Paul knew he

would remember it uponawakening.Healwaysremembered the dreams thatwere predictions.The dream faded.Paul awoke to feel himselfin the warmth of his bed—thinking . thinking. Thisworld of Castle Caladan,without play or companionshis own age, perhaps did notdeserve sadness in farewell.Dr. Yueh, his teacher, hadhinted that the faufreluches

class system was not rigidlyguarded on Arrakis. Theplanet sheltered people wholived at the desert edgewithout caid or bashar tocommand them: will-o’-thesand people called Fremen,marked down on no census ofthe Imperial Regate.Arrakis-Dune-DesertPlanet.Paul sensed his owntensions, decided to practiceone of the mind-body lessons

his mother had taught him.Three quick breaths triggeredthe responses: he fell into thefloatingawareness.focusing the consciousness .aortal dilation . avoiding theunfocused mechanism ofconsciousness . to beconscious by choice . bloodenriched and swift-floodingthe overload regions . onedoes not obtain food-safetyfreedom by instinct alone .animal consciousness does

not extend beyond the givenmoment nor into the idea thatits victims may becomeextinct . the animal destroysand does not produce .animal pleasures remain closeto sensation levels and avoidthe perceptual . the humanrequires a background gridthrough which to see hisuniverse.focusedconsciousness by choice, thisforms your grid . bodilyintegrity follows nerve-blood

flow according to the deepestawareness of cell needs . allthings/cells/beingsareimpermanent . strive forflow-permanence within.Over and over and overwithinPaul’sfloatingawareness the lesson rolled.When dawn touched Paul’swindow sill with yellow light,he sensed it through closedeyelids, opened them, hearingthen the renewed bustle andhurry in the castle, seeing the

familiar patterned beams ofhis bedroom ceiling.The hall door opened andhis mother peered in, hair likeshaded bronze held withblack ribbon at the crown, heroval face emotionless andgreen eyes staring solemnly.“You’re awake,” she said.“Did you sleep well?”“Yes.”He studied the tallness ofher, saw the hint of tension inher shoulders as she chose

clothing for him from thecloset racks. Another mighthave missed the tension, butshe had trained him in theBene Gesserit Way—in theminutiae of observation. Sheturned, holding a semiformaljacket for him. It carried thered Atreides hawk crestabove the breast pocket.“Hurry and dress,” shesaid. “Reverend Mother iswaiting.”“I dreamed of her once,”

Paul said. “Who is she?”“She was my teacher at theBene Gesserit school. Now,she’stheEmperor’sTruthsayer. And Paul.” Shehesitated. “You must tell herabout your dreams.”“I will. Is she the reasonwe got Arrakis?”“We did not get Arrakis.”Jessica flicked dust from apair of trousers, hung themwith the jacket on thedressing stand beside his bed.

“Don’tkeepReverendMother waiting.”Paul sat up, hugged hisknees. “What’s a gomjabbar?”Again, the training she hadgiven him exposed her almostinvisible hesitation, a nervousbetrayal he felt as fear.Jessica crossed to thewindow, flung wide thedraperies, stared across theriver orchards toward MountSyubi. “You’ll learn about .

the gom jabbar soon enough,”she said.He heard the fear in hervoice and wondered at it.Jessica spoke withoutturning. “Reverend Mother iswaiting in my morning room.Please hurry.”The Reverend MotherGaius Helen Mohiam sat in atapestried chair watchingmother and son approach.Windows on each side of her

overlookedthecurvingsouthern bend of the river andthe green farmlands of theAtreides family holding, butthe Reverend Mother ignoredthe view. She was feeling herage this morning, more than alittle petulant. She blamed itonspacetravelandassociationwiththatabominable Spacing Guildand its secretive ways. Buthere was a mission thatrequired personal attention

from a Bene Gesserit-withthe-Sight. Even the sponsibility when the dutycall came.Damn that Jessica! theReverend Mother thought. Ifonly she’d borne us a girl asshe was ordered to do!Jessica stopped three pacesfrom the chair, dropped asmall curtsy, a gentle flick ofleft hand along the line of her

skirt. Paul gave the short bowhis dancing master had taught—the one used “when indoubt of another’s station.”The nuances of Paul’sgreeting were not lost on theReverend Mother. She said:“He’s a cautious one,Jessica.”Jessica’s hand went toPaul’s shoulder, tightenedthere. For a heartbeat, fearpulsed through her palm.Then she had herself under

control. “Thus he has beentaught, Your Reverence.”What does she fear? Paulwondered.The old woman studiedPaul in one gestalten flicker:face oval like Jessica’s, butstrong bones . hair: theDuke’s black-black but withbrowline of the maternalgrandfather who cannot benamed, and that thin,disdainful nose; shape ofdirectly staring green eyes:

like the old Duke, thepaternal grandfather who isdead.Now, there was a man whoappreciatedthepowerofbravura—even in death, theReverend Mother thought.“Teaching is one thing,”she said, “the basic ingredientis another. We shall see.” Theold eyes darted a hard glanceat Jessica. “Leave us. I enjoinyou to practice the meditationof peace.”

Jessica took her hand fromPaul’sshoulder.“YourReverence, I—”“Jessica, you know it mustbe done.”Paul looked up at hismother, puzzled.Jessica straightened. “Yes. of course.”Paul looked back at theReverend Mother. Politenessand his mother’s obvious aweof this old woman arguedcaution. Yet he felt an angry

apprehension at the fear hesensed radiating from hismother.“Paul.” Jessica took adeep breath. “. this testyou’re about to receive . it’simportant to me.”“Test?” He looked up ather.“Remember that you’re aduke’s son,” Jessica said. Shewhirled and strode from theroom in a dry swishing ofskirt. The door closed solidly

behind her.Paul faced the old woman,holding anger in check.“Does one dismiss the LadyJessica as though she were aserving wench?”A smile flicked the cornersof the wrinkled old mouth.“The Lady Jessica was myserving wench, lad, forfourteen years at school.” Shenodded. “And a good one,too. Now, you come here!”The command whipped out

at him. Paul found himselfobeying before he could thinkabout it. Using the Voice onme, he thought. He stopped ather gesture, standing besideher knees.“See this?” she asked.From the folds of her gown,she lifted a green metal cubeabout fifteen centimeters on aside. She turned it and Paulsaw that one side was open—black and oddly frightening.No light penetrated that open

blackness.“Put your right hand in thebox,” she said.Fear shot through Paul. Hestarted to back away, but theold woman said: “Is this howyou obey your mother?”He looked up into birdbright eyes.Slowly,feelingthecompulsions and unable toinhibit them, Paul put hishand into the box. He felt firsta sense of cold as the

blackness closed around hishand, then slick metal againsthis fingers and a prickling asthough his hand were asleep.A predatory look filled theold woman’s features. Shelifted her right hand awayfrom the box and poised thehand close to the side ofPaul’s neck. He saw a glint ofmetal there and started to turntoward it.“Stop!” she snapped.Using the Voice again! He

swung his attention back toher face.“I hold at your neck thegom jabbar,” she said. “Thegom jabbar, the high-handedenemy. It’s a needle with adrop of poison on its tip. Ahah! Don’t pull away or you’llfeel that poison.”Paul tried to swallow in adry throat. He could not takehis attention from the seamedold face, the glistening eyes,the pale gums around silvery

metal teeth that f