never find out
whether the place actually existed.
The name Jacarutu
is a synonym for evil,Jessica.
The Edwali tribe came from there.
They were water stealers.
The most heinous criminals
under Fremen law.
The first and greatest sin.
But the Fremen tribes banded together
to declare war on the Jacarutu.
The Edwali were slaughtered.
Their water spread upon the sands.
Jacarutu Sietch was declared taboo.
No Fremen was allowed to look for it.
But legend persists that
not all the Edwali were wiped out...
that some escaped to become known
as the Cast Out.
And you believe that these Cast Out...
might be responsible
for what happened the other day?
The possibility
makes my blood run cold.
If the Cast Out exist, they would
camouflage themselves as something else.
We would not permit them
to live if we knew.
Gurney, contact your old smuggler
allies, the ones in the deep desert.
See what they know about Jacarutu...
and the Cast Out.
If such a people still exist,
they could be our greatest threat.
I had full consciousness
long before birth.
Knowledge of all the lives
that came before.
The genetic rivers
flowing in my veins.
Reverend Mothers.
The Atreides.
My entire heritage...
alive... in me.
Ever present.
I had no defense against
their invasion of my mind.
And so you are stalked by fear.
Fear.
Always fear...
of judgement.
The pre-born are possessed.
The abomination.
Bene Gesserit rubbish.
If you succumb to the fear,
it will defeat you.
The trial of abomination
ends in death.
But we won't let that happen, will we?
We? You're dead!
I killed you.
Yes, you clever little minx,
you killed me and yet...
here I am.
Go away.Just go away!
Oh, but you need help,
Granddaughter.
The others in here,
they want your entire consciousness.
They want to drive you out, but I only
want a tiny little corner for myself...
an occasional moment with your senses.
Yeah. An occasional taste.
An occasional touch.
Oh, no one need ever know.
No! You murdered my father.
You tried to destroy my family.
You would have killed Paul.
Oh, yes, yes. All that, yes.
Of course I would have killed you.
I mean, you and your brother stood
in my way, but that's old business.
You won. I am dead.
Thanks to you, my darling...
I have only a fragile existence,
a mere memory self within you.
You are alive,
and I am yours to command.
And how little I ask in return.
Mine?
To command?
Oh, yes. Yours.
Yours, my precious girl.
Think of what we can
accomplish together.
Your power and my experience.
There will be nothing
standing in our way.
- The voices in my head?
- Will be silenced.
- My enemies?
- Will be destroyed.
No one will stand in the way
of our powers.
From this moment on,
the future... is ours.
It comes...
just like you summoned it.
No. It summoned me, Stil.
And may I ask why
we risked a sand-crossing...
- at night without bodyguards?
- Come, come, Stil.
How often do you ride
the sands anymore...
when you want, where you want...
calling a worm instead of riding
with a flock of thopters?
How often--
How often do you arm the thumper
and just go...
like the Fremen you used to be?
Used to be?
Do you know
in many corners of the universe...
this delicate thing...
is considered a wondrous beauty?
But here--
here it's a symbol...
a symbol of the corruption
infecting Arrakis...
that wouldn't exist but for the changes
we're enforcing on this place.
Changes inspired by your father.
Now that's the official Stilgar
speaking, the government Stilgar.
The Fremen Stilgar is still repulsed
at this alien life, isn't he?
- I have a serious problem, Stil.
- So I've gathered.
The problem with me
is the problem with this place.
My father, he--
he left so many things undone.
I don't understand.
A good ruler doesn't need to be
a prophet, Stil, not even god-like.
A good ruler has to be
sensitive to the ones he rules.
The ancient meaning of the Fremen word
''naib'' is