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Dune [Frank Herbert's Dune Saga Collection: Books 1 - 6]
- Автор: Херберт Фрэнк
- Год: 2020
- Язык: английский
- Год: Penguin Publishing Group
- Жанр: Эпическое фэнтези
Электронная книга - «Dune [Frank Herbert's Dune Saga Collection: Books 1 - 6]». Краткое содержание книги:
*DUNE* IS SOON TO BE A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE directed by Denis Villeneuve, starring Timothée Chalamet, Josh Brolin, Jason Momoa, Zendaya, Rebecca Ferguson, Oscar Isaac, Javier Bardem, Dave Bautista, Stellan Skarsgård, and Charlotte Rampling.
In the far future, on a remote planet, an epic adventure awaits. Here are the first six novels of Frank Herbert’s magnificent Dune saga—a triumph of the imagination and one of the bestselling science fiction series of all time.
The Dune Saga begins on the desert planet Arrakis with the story of the boy Paul Atreides—who would become known as Muad’Dib—and of a great family’s ambition to bring to fruition humankind’s most ancient and unattainable dream....
Includes Books 1 - 6: DUNE • DUNE MESSIAH • CHILDREN OF DUNE • GOD EMPEROR OF DUNE • HERETICS OF DUNE • CHAPTERHOUSE: DUNE
Moneo smiled. “We’ve had some practice. Now, about your question.”
“And Leto’s curious theory.”
“Yes. He says that the all-male army was too dangerous to its civilian support base.”
“That’s crazy! Without the army, there would’ve been no . . .”
“I know the argument. But he says that the male army was a survival of the screening function delegated to the nonbreeding males in the prehistoric pack. He says it was a curiously consistent fact that it was always the older males who sent the younger males into battle.”
“What does that mean, screening function?”
“The ones who were always out on the dangerous perimeter protecting the core of breeding males, females and the young. The ones who first encountered the predator.”
“How is that dangerous to the . . . civilians?”
Idaho took a bite of the melon, found it ripened perfectly.
“The Lord Leto says that when it was denied an external enemy, the all-male army always turned against its own population. Always.”
“Contending for the females?”
“Perhaps. He obviously does not believe, however, that it was that simple.”
“I don’t find this a curious theory.”
“You have not heard all of it.”
“There’s more?”
“Oh, yes. He says that the all-male army has a strong tendency toward homosexual activities.”
Idaho glared across the table at Moneo. “I never . . .”
“Of course not. He is speaking about sublimation, about deflected energies and all the rest of it.”
“The rest of what?” Idaho was prickly with anger at what he saw as an attack on his male self-image.
“Adolescent attitudes, just boys together, jokes designed purely to cause pain, loyalty only to your pack-mates . . . things of that nature.”
Idaho spoke coldly. “What’s your opinion?”
“I remind myself”—Moneo turned and spoke while looking out at the view—“of something which he has said and which I am sure is true. He is every soldier in human history. He offered to parade for me a series of examples—famous military figures who were frozen in adolescence. I declined the offer. I have read my history with care and have recognized this characteristic for myself.”
Moneo turned and looked directly into Idaho’s eyes.
“Think about it, Commander.”
Idaho prided himself on self-honesty and this hit him. Cults of youth and adolescence preserved in the military? It had the ring of truth. There were examples in his own experience . . .
Moneo nodded. “The homosexual, latent or otherwise, who maintains that condition for reasons which could be called purely psychological, tends to indulge in pain-causing behavior—seeking it for himself and inflicting it upon others. Lord Leto says this goes back to the testing behavior in the prehistoric pack.”
“You believe him?”
“I do.”
Idaho took a bite of the melon. It had lost its sweet savor. He swallowed and put down his spoon.
“I will have to think about this,” Idaho said.
“Of course.”
“You’re not eating,” Idaho said.
“I was up before dawn and ate then.” Moneo gestured at his plate. “The women continually try to tempt me.”
“Do they ever succeed?”
“Occasionally.”
“You’re right. I find his theory curious. Is there more to it?”
“Ohhh, he says that when it breaks out of the adolescent-homosexual restraints, the male army is essentially rapist. Rape is often murderous and that’s not survival behavior.”
Idaho scowled.
A tight smile flitted across Moneo’s mouth. “Lord Leto says that only Atreides discipline and moral restraints prevented some of the worst excesses in your times.”
A deep sigh shook Idaho.
Moneo sat back, thinking of a thing the God Emperor had once said: “No matter how much we ask after the truth, self-awareness is often unpleasant. We do not feel kindly toward the Truthsayer.”
“Those damned Atreides!” Idaho said.
“I am Atreides,” Moneo said.
“What?” Idaho was shocked.
“His breeding program,” Moneo said. “I’m sure the Tleilaxu mentioned it. I am directly descended from the mating of his sister and Harq al-Ada.”
Idaho leaned toward him. “Then tell me, Atreides, how are women better soldiers than men?”
“They find it easier to mature.”
Idaho shook his head in bewilderment.
“They have a compelling physical way of moving from adolescence into maturity,” Moneo said. “As Lord Leto says, ‘Carry a baby in you for nine months and that changes you.’”
Idaho sat back. “What does he know about it?”
Moneo merely stared at him until Idaho recalled the multitude in Leto—both male and female. The realization plunged over Idaho. Moneo saw it, recalling a comment of the God Emperor’s: “Your words brand him with the look you want him to have.”
As the silence continued, Moneo cleared his throat. Presently, he said: “The immensity of the Lord Leto’s memories has been known to stop my tongue, too.”
“Is he being honest with us?” Idaho asked.
“I believe him.”
“But he does so many . . . I mean, take this breeding program. How long has that been going on?”
“From the very first. From the day he took it away from the Bene Gesserit.”
“What does he want from it?”
“I wish I knew.”
“But you’re . . .”
“An Atreides and his chief aide, yes.”
“You haven’t convinced me that a female army is best.”
“They continue the species.”
At last, Idaho’s frustration and anger had an object. “Is that what I was doing with them that first night—breeding?”
“Possibly. The Fish Speakers take no precautions against pregnancy.”
“Damn him! I’m not some animal he can move from stall to stall like a . . . like a . . .”
“Like a stud?”
“Yes!”
“But the Lord Leto refuses to follow the Tleilaxu pattern of gene surgery and artificial insemination.”
“What have the Tleilaxu got to . . .”
“They are the object lesson. Even I can see that. Their Face Dancers are mules, closer to a colony organism than to human.”
“Those others of . . . me . . . were any of them his studs?”
“Some. You have descendants.”
“Who?”
“I am one.”
Idaho stared into Moneo’s eyes, lost suddenly in a tangle of relationships. Idaho found the relationships impossible to understand. Moneo obviously was so much older than . . . But I am . . . Which of them was truly the older? Which the ancestor and which the descendant?
“I sometimes have trouble with this myself,” Moneo said. “If it helps, the Lord Leto assures me that you are not my descendant, not in any ordinary sense. However, you may well father some of my descendants.”
Idaho shook his head from side to side.
“Sometimes I think only the God Emperor himself can understand these things,” Moneo said.
“That’s another thing!” Idaho said. “This god business.”
“The Lord Leto says he has created a holy obscenity.”
This was not the response Idaho had expected. What did I expect? A defense of the Lord Leto?
“Holy obscenity,” Moneo repeated. The words rolled from his tongue with a strange sense of gloating in them.
Idaho focused a probing stare on Moneo. He hates his God Emperor! No . . . he fears him. But don’t we always hate what we fear?
“Why do you believe in him?” Idaho demanded.
“You ask if I share in the popular religion?”
“No! Does he?”
“I think so.”
“Why? Why do you think so?”
“Because he says he wishes to create no more Face Dancers. He insists that his human stock, once it has been paired, breeds in the way it has always bred.”
“What the hell does that have to do with it?”