Arha quirked a smooth, thoughtful smile, listening even as she calculated, measured, weighed each idea set forth. This was an old concept, an old battle. Greed, lust, power, corrupting forces -- all were held in check by some form of good, which was defined as order. Her eyes settled back on his face, blue-within-blue bright, almost glowing.

"It is a sound system of thought," she said softly. "The place from whence I came was in the middle of a power struggle. My Arrakis. I have since found out from another that the world I love is no longer there. Five thousand years of struggle, a changed Universe, a misled Messiah, darkness and light circling each other. The Universe is what it is in any place. Tyrants and Saviors, life and death. You do what you can, live, stir the worlds, shape the future, keep moving, keep fighting if you must. If you are in the right place, in the right time, perhaps then you may see the fruits of your labor. It is not often seen in one's own lifetime. I will have died long before I see such a thing as light triumphing over darkness."

Her fingers curled idly against her arm as she peered up at him.

"Come," she murmured, "if you are to wait, Philospher Jed-Eye, you should do so with a modicum of comfort. It is no easy thing to find yourself among strange company on a Thinking Machine. Walk with me. I shall show you a quiet place to recover."