Free God Emperor of Dune by Frank Herbert

not even to the most subtle instruments of penetration. The hood said that the Ixians or their inheritors were still at work in the Imperium. Both women wore one-piece uniforms of rich blue with the Atreides hawk in red braid at the left breast.

    Idaho studied them as they closed the door and faced him.

    The masked woman had a blocky, powerful body. She moved with the deceptive care of a professional muscle fanatic. The other woman was graceful and slender with almond eyes in sharp, high-boned features. Idaho had the feeling that he had seen her somewhere, but he could not fix the memory. Both women carried needle knives in hip sheaths. Something about their movements told Idaho these women would be extremely competent with such weapons.

    The slender one spoke first.

    “My name is Luli. Let me be the first to address you as Commander. My companion must remain anonymous. Our Lord Leto has commanded it. You may address her as Friend.”

    “Commander?” he asked.

    “It is the Lord Leto’s wish that you command his Royal Guard,” Luli said.

    “That so? Let’s go talk to him about it.”

    “Oh, no!” Luli was visibly shocked. “The Lord Leto will summon you when it is time. For now, he wishes us to make you comfortable and happy.”

    “And I must obey?”

    Luli merely shook her head in puzzlement.

    “Am I a slave?”

    Luli relaxed and smiled. “By no means. It’s just that the Lord Leto has many great concerns which require his personal attention. He must make time for you. He sent us because he was concerned about his Duncan Idaho. You have been a long time in the hands of the dirty Tleilaxu.”

    Dirty Tleilaxu , Idaho thought.

    That, at least, had not changed.

    He was concerned, though, by a particular reference in Luli’s explanation.

    “ His Duncan Idaho?”

    “Are you not an Atreides warrior?” Luli asked.

    She had him there. Idaho nodded, turning his head slightly to stare at the enigmatic masked woman.

    “Why are you masked?”

    “It must not be known that I serve the Lord Leto,” she said. Her voice was a pleasant contralto, but Idaho suspected that this, too, was masked by the cibus hood.

    “Then why are you here?”

    “The Lord Leto trusts me to determine if you have been tampered with by the dirty Tleilaxu.”

    Idaho tried to swallow in a suddenly dry throat. This thought had occurred to him several times aboard the Guild transport. If the Tleilaxu could condition a ghola to attempt the murder of a dear friend, what else might they plant in the psyche of the regrown flesh?

    “I see that you have thought about this,” the masked woman said.

    “Are you a mentat?” Idaho asked.

    “Oh, no!” Luli interrupted. “The Lord Leto does not permit the training of mentats.”

    Idaho glanced at Luli, then returned his attention to the masked woman. No mentats. The Tleilaxu history had not mentioned that interesting fact. Why would Leto prohibit mentats? Surely, the human mind trained in the super abilities of computation still had its uses. The Tleilaxu had assured him that the Great Convention remained in force and that mechanical computers were still anathema. Surely, these women would know that the Atreides themselves had used mentats.

    “What is your opinion?” the masked woman asked. “Have the dirty Tleilaxu tampered with your psyche?”

    “I don’t … think so.”

    “But you are not certain?”

    “No.”

    “Do not fear, Commander Idaho,” she said. “We have ways of making sure and ways of dealing with such problems should they arise. The dirty Tleilaxu have tried it only once and they paid dearly for their mistake.”

    “That’s reassuring. Did the Lord Leto send me any messages?”

    Luli spoke up: “He told us to assure you that he still loves you as the Atreides have always loved you.” She was obviously awed by her own words.

    Idaho relaxed slightly. As an old Atreides hand, superbly trained by them, he had found it easy to determine several