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Get her off this! Quick!
"Don't speak," Great Honored Matre said. "Don't even open your mouth.
Now you've done it!
"You'd help Logno or one of the others and she'd be in my seat!!" She glanced at the crouching Futar. "Eat, darling?"
"Not eat nice lady."
"Then I'll throw her carcass to the herd!"
"Great Honored Matre--"
"I told you not to speak! You dared call me Dama."
She was out of her chair in a blur. Lucilla's cage door slammed op
en with a crash against the wall. Lucilla tried to dodge but the shigawire confined her. She did not see the kick that crushed her temple.
As she died, Lucilla's awareness was filled with a scream of rage--the horde of Lampadas venting emotions it had confined for many generations.
Some never participate. Life happens to them. They get by on little more than dumb persistence and resist with anger or violence all things that might lift them out of resentment-filled illusions of security.
--Alma Mavis Taraza
Back and forth, back and forth. All day long, back and forth. Odrade shifted from one comeye record to another, searching, undecided, uneasy. First a look a Scytale, then young Teg out there with Duncan and Murbella, then a long stare out a window while she thought about Burzmali's last report from Lampadas.
How soon could they try to restore the Bashar's memories? Would a restored ghola obey?
Why no more word from the Rabbi? Should we begin Extremis Progessiva, Sharing among ourselves as far as possible? The effect on morale would be devastating.
Records were projected above her table while aides and advisors entered and departed. Necessary interruptions. Sign this. Approve that. Decrease melange for this group?
Bellonda was here, seated at the table. She had stopped asking what Odrade sought and merely watched with that unwavering stare. Merciless.
They had argued about whether a new sandworm population in the Scattering might restore the Tyrant's malign influence. That endless dream in each revenant of the worm still worried Bell. But population numbers alone said the Tyrant's hold on their destiny was ended.
Tamalane had come in earlier seeking some record from Bellonda. Fresh from a new accumulation of Archives, Bellonda had launched herself into a diatribe about Sisterhood population shifts, the drain on resources.
Odrade stared out the window now as dusk moved across the landscape. It became darker in almost imperceptible shadings. As full dark fell, she became aware of lights far out in the plantation houses. She knew those lights had been turned on much earlier but she had the sensation that night created the lights. Some blanked out occasionally as people moved about in their dwellings. No people--no lights. Don't waste energy.
Winking lights held her attention for a moment. A variation on the old question about a tree falling in the forest: Was there sound if no one heard? Odrade voted on the side of those who said vibrations existed no matter whether a sensor recorded them.
Do secret sensors follow our Scattering? What new talents and inventions do the first Scattered Ones use?
Bellonda had allowed long enough silence. "Dar, you're sending worrisome signals through Chapterhouse."
Odrade accepted this without comment.
"Whatever you're doing, it's being interpreted as indecision." How sad Bell sounds. "Important groups are discussing whether to replace you. Proctors are voting."
"Only the Proctors?"
"Dar, did you really wave at Praska the other day and tell her it was good to be alive?"
"I did."
"What have you been doing?"
"Reassessing. No word yet from Dortujla?"
"You've asked that at least a dozen times today!" Bellonda gestured at the worktable. "You keep going back to Burzmali's last report from Lampadas. Something we've overlooked ?"
"Why do our enemies hold fast on Gammu? Tell me, Mentat."
"I've insufficient data and you know it!"
"Burzmali was no Mentat but his picture of events has a persistent force, Bell. I tell myself, well, after all, he was the Bashar's favorite student. It's understandable that Burzmali would show characteristics of his teacher."
"Out with it, Dar. What do you see in Burzmali's report?"
"He fills in an empty picture. Not completely but ... tantalizing the way he keeps referring to Gammu. Many economic forces have powerful connections there. Why are those threads not cut by our enemies?"
"They're in that same system, obviously."
"What if we mounted an all-out attack on Gammu?"
"No one wants to do business in violent surroundings. That what you're saying?"
"Partly."
"Most parties to that economic system probably would want to move. Another planet, another subservient population."
"Why?"
"They could predict with more reliability. They would increase defenses, of course."
"This alliance we sense there, Bell, they would redouble their efforts to find and obliterate us."
"Certainly."
Bellonda's terse comment forced Odrade's thoughts outward. She lifted her gaze to the distant snow-tonsured mountains glimmering in starlight. Would attackers come from that direction?
The thrust of that thought might have dulled a lesser intellect. But Odrade needed no Litany Against Fear to remain clear-headed. She had a simpler formula.
Face your fears or they will climb over your back.
Her attitude was direct. The most terrifying things in the universe came from human minds. The nightmare (the white horse of Bene Gesserit extinction) possessed both mythic and reality forms. The hunter with the axe could strike mind or flesh. But you could not flee the terrors of the mind.
Face them then!
What did she confront in this darkness? Not that faceless hunter with her axe, not the drop into the unknown chasm (both visible to her bit of talent), but the very tangible Honored Matres and whoever supported them.
And I dare not use even my small prescience to guide us. I could lock our future into unchanging form. Muad'Dib and his Tyrant son did that and the Tyrant spent thirty-five hundred years extricating us.
Moving lights in the middle distance caught her attention. Gardeners working late, still pruning the orchards as though those venerable trees would go on forever. Ventilators gave her a faint odor of smoke from fires where orchard trimmings were being burned. Very attentive to such details, the Bene Gesserit gardeners. Never leave deadwood around to attract parasites that might then take the next step into living trees. Clean and neat. Plan ahead. Maintain your habitat. This moment is part of forever.
Never leave deadwood around?
Was Gammu deadwood?
"What is it about orchards that fascinates you so much?" Bellonda wanted to know.
Odrade spoke without turning. "They restore me."
Only two nights ago she had gone walking out there, the weather cold and bracing, a touch of mist close to the ground. Her feet stirred leaves. Faint smell of compost where a sparse rain had settled in warmer low places. A rather attractive, marshy smell. Life in its usual ferment even at that level. Empty limbs above her stood out starkly against starlight. Depressing, really, when compared with springtime or harvest season. But beautiful in its flow. Life once more waiting for its call to action.
"Aren't you worried about the Proctors?" Bellonda asked.
"How will they vote, Bell?"
"It's very close."
"Will others follow them?"
"There's concern about your decisions. Consequences."
Bell was very good at that: a great deal of data in a few words. Most Bene Gesserit decisions moved through a triple maze: Effectiveness. Consequences and (most vital) Who Can Carry Out Orders? You matched deed and person with great care, precise attention to details. This had a heavy influence on Effectiveness and that, in turn, ruled Consequences. A good Mother Superior could wend her way through decision mazes in seconds. Liveliness in Central then. Eyes brightened. Word was passed that "She acted without hesitation." That created confidence among acolytes and other students. Reverend Mothers (Proctors especially) waited to assess Consequences.
Odrade spoke to her reflection in the window as much as to Bellonda. "Even Mother Superior must take her own time."
"But what has you in such turmoil?"
"Are you urging speed, Bell?"
Bellonda drew back in her chairdog as though Odrade had pushed her.
"Patience is extremely difficult in these times," Odrad
e said. "But choosing the right moment influences my choices."
"What do you intend with our new Teg? That's the question you must answer."
"If our enemies removed themselves from Gammu, where would they go, Bell?"
"You would attack them there?"
"Push them a bit."
Bellonda spoke softly. "That's a dangerous fire to feed."
"We need another bargaining chip."
"Honored Matres don't bargain!"
