ancient times.
I wouldn't know.
I'm not the scholar you are,
young prince.
Back and forth.
Back and forth until they made
themselves sick, just like this worm.
Just like my mother...
with her futile schemes
to regain power for the House Corrino.
Your mother is an ambitious woman,
my prince.
Her ambitions tend to be
undisturbed by reality, I'm afraid.
You don't share her desire to regain
your grandfather's throne for yourself?
Only a fool covets power without
appreciating its delicate uses...
or fearing its inherent perils.
The world of Shaddam the Fourth
remains only in crumbling history books.
We hate the empire that defeated it,
but have no idea what we'd like instead.
The kind of society we once had,
I assume.
My mother may believe that's possible,
Tyek, but I'm not so sure.
I'm just not so sure.
I heard about your little stunt
in the desert.
Well, I prefer to think of it
as expert flying, but carry on.
With your encouragement.
Our father's memories
are very instructive.
Well, I suppose I should be grateful
I don't have to tell your grandmother...
you were lost to a worm
before she was supposed to see you.
That would have been an unpleasant task,
wouldn't it?
It's rumored my mother has resumed
her allegiance to the Bene Gesserit...
and you both know what the Sisterhood
thinks of those of us who are pre-born.
And you want us to pretend
to be something we're not?
I expect you to protect yourselves.
No more talk of your father's memories
or his spirit or his animus.
Surely one can distinguish
between being pre-born--
And being possessed.
For some, that's a distinction without
a difference. For us, that's dangerous.
But what if she's coming as mother...
as grandmother,
and not as Bene Gesserit inquisitor?
You share her memories, Alia. Surely,
her motives can't be that complex.
If my mother wasn't that complex,
neither of you would be here.
She would never have
betrayed her training.
She never would have had a son.
I would have been her firstborn,
not your father.
And none of this
would have happened.
I warn you,
enemies often appear as angels.
I hope you two
can tell the difference.
We're going to lose her.
We already have.
You're nervous, aren't you?
Why should I be?
You haven't seen her for many years.
Your grandmother and I
had an unsettled relationship.
But you wanted her affection,
didn't you?
Affection wasn't possible
under the circumstances...
but I am due some respect
after all this time.
Stil, please.
When you first came here
many years ago...
Muad'Dib told me his father said...
'' Beauty has finally arrived...
to hold back the wilderness.''
In his honor, may I borrow
your duke's words today.
Good friend.
The imperial regent, my lady.
It's been so long.
Of course, you recognize
your grandchildren...
even after all this time.
I hope we can find time
to shed formality...
and get to know each other again.
The mother of Muad'Dib
has returned to us.
You must offer them
your blessing, Grandmother.
I see the hypocrisy of ritual
still thrives.
Sometimes it is necessary
to accommodate ritual--
In order to survive it.
Mother!
Reverend Mother.
I bring you a warning.
The blessings of Muad'Dib
have been corrupted.
The religion of Muad'Dib
is not Muad'Dib.
He renounces it...
as he renounces you.
All of you!
Muad'Dib is dead!
And sand will cover this place.
Sand will cover you.
Take them alive! Alive!
Get out!
Jacarutu!
It's impossible to guard against every
madman willing to suicide himself.
We try to limit
Alia's public appearances.
Are we sure she was the target?
In these times, anyone in
the royal family could be vulnerable.
I seem to recall times not long ago
that were not so different.
- And we survived them.
- As we will survive them again.
I heard the voices in the crowd
calling out Muad'Dib.
We don't know where he's from
or what his motives are.
They say he calls himself
the Preacher.