Everyone has a history. The question is, how much of that history really occurred the way it is documented?

—from The Life of Muad’Dib, Volume 2, by the PRINCESS IRULAN

Balut’s Theater of Shards was so stunning that the architecture threatened to overshadow the performance. Paul and Bronso stood outside the fluted gates, dizzied by the sight of millions of reflecting prisms. In such a breathtaking venue, who would want to look at mere acrobats and dancers? With its soaring crystalline towers, angled planes, and intersecting mirrors and lenses, the building seemed more optical illusion than physical structure. Paul thought he could smell the light in the air.

Settling in on the planet, having worked out all the details for their main performance on Balut in a week’s time, the Jongleur leader got down to business. Rather than being awed by the celebrated Theater of Shards, Rheinvar worried about possible snags in the complex stage assembly, lighting problems posed by the nonperpendicular planes of the walls, complications caused by tall turrets that would either magnify or attenuate the normal acoustics. He needed to see the inside for himself.

With a terse all-business demeanor, Governor Alra Kio opened the crystalline gates to give Rheinvar full access to the theater. “I intend to make the formal announcement of my betrothal to Preto Heiron at your performance, when I have a large audience. I ask only that your performance be perfect,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Make sure your troupe gives the most impeccable show of their careers.”

“That’s all?” Rheinvar asked, half amused.

“That’s all.” Though plump and known to be of a mature age, Governor Kio had a youthful body and complexion, undoubtedly retained through heavy, and costly, consumption of melange. Her fiancé was much younger.

The Jongleur leader removed his sparkling white top hat. “What the dance troupe does is in my purview, but I leave the politics to you, Madam Governor.”

She swept away, returning to her offices and leaving Rheinvar, Paul, and Bronso to walk the venue and assess what adjustments might need to be made. As the Jongleur leader moved along, he carried a crystalpad projector that displayed blueprints and acoustical projections of the performing area so he could map the arrangement of his great stage.

The three entered the core of the arena, where the beauty surpassed even that of the ornate exterior. Governor Kio and her young fiancé would occupy seats on a sweeping, separate balcony at the focal point of the reflected light projectors and sound-wave generators.

“It’s not often you find a place whose real substance meets or exceeds stories of its flash and dazzle.” With quick, deft motions, Rheinvar made notations on the crystalpad, marking where mirrors needed to be installed, along with the correct positioning for laser projectors and amplifiers.

“This Theater of Shards was designed and built some fifty years ago by a famous architect . . . whose name I forget now. One of Balut’s wealthiest ruling families bankrolled the entire project, and the details were kept highly confidential. No one but the architect himself had the complete blueprints.”

Rheinvar lowered his voice and used now-familiar Jongleur tricks to draw the boys into his story. “But then, on the night of the grand opening, the wealthy patriarch of the ruling family was found murdered at the hands of the architect. A day later, the architect also died mysteriously, said to have been the victim of angry members of the noble family.”

“Quite the drama,” Bronso chuckled. “Sounds like fodder for another play.”

Rheinvar continued in his rich professional voice. “Some say that this Theater of Shards contains a powerful secret known only to the nobleman and the architect. That’s the story, anyway. I can’t say whether or not it’s true—but it should be.”

Paul looked around the arena, studying the angles, planes, prisms, and magnifiers. He gestalted and analyzed each detail, as his mother had taught him to do. The Theater was a monumental experiment in physics, optics, and harmonics.

Bronso stared all around. “The engineers of Ix would have a grand time deconstructing the angles and focal points here.”

Rheinvar finished making notations and handed Paul his crystalpad projector. “Here’s the plan, boys. You have traction pads, hooks, adhesives, and guidance calipers. I need you to hang enhancement mirrors there, there, and there. Once you’re finished, run a tracer beam to make sure the surfaces are aligned, then set up secondary stations at the five points noted on the pad.”

While Bronso seemed excited by the responsibility, Paul said, “Don’t you want more seasoned stage technicians to take care of this?”

“Others may be more seasoned, but you two are agile and fearless.”

“I am, at least.” Bronso sent a teasing look toward Paul.

“I’m the accurate and meticulous one,” Paul countered. “So we make a good team. Between the two of us, we’ll get it done, sir.”