"Frank Herbert - Dune 2 - Dune Messiah (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank)

positive-negative elements of life and religion."
Scytale smiled, passing a benign gaze over his companions. They were as he'd been led to
expect. The old Reverend Mother wielded her emotions like a scythe. Irulan had been well trained
for a task at which she had failed, a flawed Bene Gesserit creation. Edric was no more (and no
less) than the magician's hand: he might conceal and distract. For now, Edric relapsed into sullen
silence as the others ignored him.
"Do I understand that this Hayt is intended to poison Paul's psyche?" Irulan asked.
"More or less," Scytale said.
"And what of the Qizarate?" Irulan asked.
"It requires only the slightest shift in emphasis, a glissade of the emotions, to transform
envy into enmity," Scytale said.
"And CHOAM?" Irulan asked.
"They will rally round profit," Scytale said.
"What of the other power groups?"
"One invokes the name of government," Scytale said. "We will annex the less powerful in the
name of morality and progress. Our opposition will die of its own entanglements."
"Alia, too?"
"Hayt is a multi-purpose ghola," Scytale said. "The Emperor's sister is of an age when she can
be distracted by a charming male designed for that purpose. She will be attracted by his maleness
and by his abilities as a mentat."
Mohiam allowed her old eyes to go wide in surprise. "The ghola's a mentat? That's a dangerous
move."
"To be accurate," Irulan said, "a mentat must have accurate data. What if Paul asks him to
define the purpose behind our gift?"
"Hayt will tell the truth," Scytale said. "It makes no difference."
"So you leave an escape door open for Paul," Irulan said.


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"A mentat!" Mohiam muttered.
Scytale glanced at the old Reverend Mother, seeing the ancient hates which colored her
responses. From the days of the Butlerian Jihad when "thinking machines" had been wiped from most
of the universe, computers had inspired distrust. Old emotions colored the human computer as well.
"I do not like the way you smile," Mohiam said abruptly, speaking in the truth mode as she
glared up at Scytale.
In the same mode, Scytale said: "And I think less of what pleases you. But we must work
together. We all see that." He glanced at the Guildsman. "Don't we, Edric?"
"You teach painful lessons," Edric said. "I presume you wished to make it plain that I must
not assert myself against the combined judgments of my fellow conspirators."
"You see, he can be taught," Scytale said.
"I see other things as well," Edric growled. "The Atreides holds a monopoly on the spice.
Without it I cannot probe the future. The Bene Gesserit lose their truthsense. We have stockpiles,
but these are finite. Melange is a powerful coin."
"Our civilization has more than one coin," Scytale said. "Thus, the law of supply and demand
fails."
"You think to steal the secret of it," Mohiam wheezed. "And him with a planet guarded by his
mad Fremen!"
"The Fremen are civil, educated and ignorant," Scytale said. "They're not mad. They're trained