"An overdose would have to be pretty large," Ghanima said.
"Our tolerance is probably high," he agreed. "Look how much Alia requires."
"I pity her," Ghanima said. "The lure of it must've been subtle and insidious, creeping up on her until..."
"She's a victim, yes," Leto said. "Abomination."
"We could be wrong."
"True."
"I always wonder," Ghanima mused, "if the next ancestral memory I seek will be the one which..."
"The past is no farther away than your pillow," Leto said.
"We must make the opportunity to discuss this with our grandmother."
"So her memory within me urges," Leto said.
Ghanima met his gaze. Then: "Too much knowledge never makes for simple decisions."
= = = = = =
The sietch at the desert's rim Was Liet's, was Kynes's, Was Stilgar's, was Muad'Dib's And, once more, was Stilgar's. The Naibs one by one sleep in the sand, But the sietch endures. -from a Fremen song
Alia felt her heart pounding as she walked away from the twins. For a few pulsing seconds, she had felt herself near compulsion to stay with them and beg their help. What a foolish weakness! Memory of it sent a warning stillness through Alia. Would these twins dare practice prescience? The path which had engulfed their father must lure them - spice trance with its visions of the future wavering like gauze blown on a fickle wind.
Why cannot I see the future? Alia wondered. Much as I try, why does it elude me?
The twins must be made to try, she told herself. They could be lured into it. They had the curiosity of children and it was linked to memories which traversed millennia.