If all the world's a play, And all of life's a farce, Be happy, kind, be witty and gay, Or you'll be terribly disappointed at the end.

Sand

The sand whispered. It was often silent. Unmoved by the harsh sun. Patiently waiting for a breath of wind. Stilgar enjoyed the audible caress of the sand. It was soothing. A moment's respite as he stood at the entrance to the sietch, waiting for the last glow of the sun to fade. A dozen paces onto the sand, a child sat writing a circle prayer. Stilgar frowned slightly as he watched. A decade ago, there would have been a dozen children. As more Fremen moved to the cities or were killed by Harkonnen butchers, the old ways were eroding. The sietch council was no exception. Muad'Dib had recently joined the council. He was young, which was usually an argument against council, but his words were fiery and there was a movement growing behind him. And tonight he had again asked to send out a call for fedaykin. "The Harkonnen on Arrakis are but men and 'thopters and greed." "And we are but sand, Muad'Dib. When the Harkonnen come, what can we do but fade away into the desert? It is our way." Muad'Dib reached down, scooped up a handful of sand, and held it out to the council member. "Yes, the Fremen are sand. We, in this sietch, are just a handful." He poured out the first handful, then scooped up another. "But if we add another sietch. We are two. Then two more sietches will make us four. And if the Fremen answer the call for fedaykin we will be eight handfuls of sand. Sixteen. Fifty. A hundred." He turned now, dripping sand as he surveyed those assembled. "We will become fistfuls of sand hurled into the wind until it becomes a sandstorm." Here he stopped, looking directly at Stilgar. "And what Harkonnen on this planet can survive against a sandstorm?" Stilgar left then. He had nothing to reply or to add. So he followed the whispered arguments in his mind until they became sand and the sand became the sunset. Movement drew his eye back to the child just as the sand grew silent. Stilgar considered the air for a moment and then strode out of the cave mouth. It was no longer safe to remain outside. A sandstorm was coming.