Monday, January 7, 2008

Parody Chapter 1 Sandworms of Dune

Chapter 1

Twenty-one years* after the escape from the publishing houses...

"So many characters from the past have been reborn, yet I still do not recognize them. Perhaps some spice beer will soon remedy that."

-DUNCAN IDAHO
Character from Frank Herbert's Dune

Above the gathering group, the old bearded man witnessed the birth of his baby, but only as an observer, he along with others crowded the office while two suks in the adjacent printing room prepared to remove the books from the axolotl press.
"Number seven," murmured one of the suks.
This was not truly the old bearded man's baby, but a ghola grown from preserved notes.
Something tried to surface at the back of his throat, without consuming substenance, he experienced only dry heaves. Among his papers, he had read and reread the legendary accounts of past reviewers.
But still he did not recognize it.
All he had were images from the past.
But that had been another Dune, another time and another way.
Next to Jessica in the office stood her son Paul including Duncan among others. From the moment of the birth of the original baby, it had been different from all other babies filled with ancient wisdom tapping into the psyche without the agony of a forced polemic or scrawlings of a hack.
Abonimation.
After more than a decade hiatus, the Dune ghola project had been resurrected from history to help fight the terrible collectors that hunted them.
Others would continue to come soon.The axolotl presses had already given birth to new children.
Serena Butler.
Javier Harkonnen.
Duncan gave Jessica a quizzical look.
He had served the old bearded man well from the time of Muad'Dib through the 3,500 years of the God Emperor's reign and for another 1,500 years. Eternal Duncan with all of his memories from all of his previous lives.
But still he did not recognize them.
At that moment, the old bearded man looked angry, as he invariably did, whenever he looked down upon the axolotl press. Since the publishers ignored him, the old man vented his anger on the editor who did not seem to hear him.
"After all my hard work, you have done it again. When will you learn to stop playing God?"
After receiving an ominous prescient dream, the first suk had declared a moratorium on the ghola project that had been the old bearded man's passion. But the recent ordeal at the financial handlers, and the near capture by the enemy collectors had forced the suk to reassess that decision.
The suk had decided to take the risk.
Tempting fate, the suk had performed an experiment on the unborn ghola in an effort to remake it more palatable, more modern. He saturated the text with repetition after repetition along with campy prose to near fatal levels.
While the original had contained the mysteries of the water of life, the new ghola would not go beyond the simple life.
The old bearded man had been horrified to again learn of it too late, when he could do nothing about it.
One of the suks picked up the first copy and began to wave it around the room as if shooing the old bearded man away.
Scowling, the old bearded man held up a trembling hand as if to ward off something evil...something ominous.
An abomination!

*2007 - 21 = 1986!
Hint: One of the greatest bearded science fiction writers passed away that year.

No comments: