39.
One woman looks up: a weathered old woman of unknowable age,
with wise eyes and a blunt demeanor. Her lean body corded
with muscle. She is the SHADOUT MAPES.
SHADOUT MAPES
My Lady, the Harkonnens demanded
it.JESSICA
Please rise.The women comply. Jessica walks down the row, studying each
in turn. When she gets to the Shadout Mapes she lingers.
Observing her with hyper-awareness. Her eyes. Lips. Hands.
JESSICA (CONT'D)
What is your name?SHADOUT MAPES
The Shadout Mapes, my Lady.Jessica doesn’t take her eyes off Mapes.
JESSICA
The rest of you may go.The other women file out, leaving Jessica and Mapes alone.
There’s a tension between the two of them, like gunfighters.
JESSICA (CONT'D)
Shadout. That’s an old
Chakobsa word. Well-dipper.
(in chakobsa, subtitled)
You’re Fremen.
(CHAKOBSA TRANSLATION)
She Fremin. (Phonetic: she
FRE-min)SHADOUT MAPES
(startled)
You know the ancient tongues.Jessica registers that. The Missionaria Protectiva at work.
Still she watches Mapes warily, as if she were a wild animal.
JESSICA
I know many things. I know you have
a weapon concealed in your bodice.Mapes trembles in superstitious dread, lowering her eyes.
SHADOUT MAPES
I meant no offense, my Lady!The guard promptly reacts. Jessica stops him with a discreet
hand signal from Atreides Battle Language.