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D
oria's life had become ridiculous, as Bellonda-within reminded her incessantly.
You're getting fat yourself, said the other Reverend Mother.
"It's your fault!" Doria snapped. Indeed, she had gained weight, and a significant amount, though she'd continued her vigorous training and exercises. Each day she monitored her metabolism with her own inner techniques, but to no avail. Her once lithe and wiry body now showed noticeable signs of bulk. "You weigh like a heavy stone inside me." She heard Bellonda's chuckle clearly in her head.
Grousing to herself as quietly as she could, the former Honored Matre tramped up the face of a small dune, slogging through loose sand. Fifteen other Sisters traipsed along behind her wearing identical singlesuits. They chattered amongst themselves while reading aloud from the instruments and charts they carried. This group actually liked doing such miserable work.
These spice-ops recruits took regular spectral and temperature readings on the sand, mapping out the narrow spice veins and limited deposits. The readings were dispatched to the desert research stations, then combined with firsthand observations to determine the best locations for harvesting operations.
As the planet's free moisture diminished dramatically, the growing worms were finally producing more melange--more "product," as the Mother Commander put it. She was anxious to press the New Sisterhood's advantage, to pay for the huge shipments of armaments being assembled on Richese, and to bribe the Guild to facilitate the ongoing war preparations. Murbella spent melange and soostone wealth as fast as it came in, then demanded more, and more.
Behind Doria, two young Valkyrie trainees practiced fighting maneuvers on the soft sand, attacking and defending. The women had to adjust their techniques depending on the steepness of dune slopes, loose dust or packed sand, or the buried hazards of dead trees.
Feeling the hot blood of her Honored Matre past, Doria would rather have been fighting, too. Perhaps she would be allowed to join the final assault on Tleilax, whenever Murbella decided she had gathered enough forces for the great battle. What a victory that would be! Doria could have fought on Buzzell, on Gammu, on any number of the recent battlefields. She would have made an excellent Valkyrie herself--and now she was little more than . . . than an administrator! Why couldn't she be allowed to shed blood for the New Sisterhood? Fighting was her best skill.
Trapped in her position, Doria continued to come out to the desert, but she had grown impatient over the years. Am I sentenced to babysit this planet forever? Is this my punishment for the single mistake of killing fat old Bellonda?
Ah, you admit it was a mistake now? prodded the annoying voice within.
Quiet, you bloated old fool.
She could never get away from Bellonda inside her head. The constant taunting reminded Doria of her own shortcomings and even offered unwanted advice in how to fix them. Like Sisyphus, Doria would roll that boulder up a hill for the rest of her life. And now she found her body growing fat as well.
Inside her head, Bellonda actually seemed to be humming. Presently, the internal voice said, In ancient times on Terra, people had something called a doorbell, which a visitor rang when coming to a door.
"So what?" Doria said aloud, then quickly turned her face away from the trainees, who looked at her oddly.
So, that is our combined name: Doria-Bellonda. DorBell. Ding-dong, ding-dong, can I come in?
No, damn you. Go away!
Fuming, Doria concentrated on the analytical instruments. Why couldn't the Mother Commander find a dedicated planetologist somewhere out in all the surviving worlds of humanity? On her scanners, she saw merely numbers and electronic diagrams that were of no real interest to her.
Each day for six infuriating years, Doria had gritted her teeth and tried to ignore Bellonda's inner nagging. It was the only way she could go about her tasks. Murbella had told her to subjugate herself to the needs of her Sisters, but like so many Bene Gesserit concepts, "subjugation" worked better in theory than in practical application.
The Mother Commander had been able to mold others into what she wanted, forging the united Sisterhood, even retraining and incorporating some of the captured rebel Honored Matres. Though Doria had insinuated herself into a position of power beside Murbella, she could not completely suppress the natural violence embedded in her nature, the quick and decisive responses that often resulted in bloodshed. It was not in her nature to compromise, but pure survival dictated that she become what the Mother Commander wanted her to be. Damn her! Has she actually succeeded in making me a Bene Gesserit, after all?
Bellonda-within chuckled again.
Ultimately, Doria wondered if she would have to face off against Murbella herself. Over the years, many others had challenged the Mother Commander, and all had died in the attempt. Doria did not fear for her life, but she did fear the possibility of making the wrong decision. Yes, Murbella was stern and maddeningly unpredictable, but after almost two decades, it was not so clear that her merger scheme had been wrong.
Suddenly Doria tore her mind from its preoccupation, and she noticed the distant mounds of sand in motion, ripples drawing closer and closer.
The voice of Bellonda harangued her. Are you blind as well as stupid? You have stirred up the worms with all your stomping around.
"They are stunted."
That may be, but they are still dangerous. You are as arrogant as ever, thinking you can defeat anything that gets in your way. You refuse to acknowledge a real threat.
"You weren't much of a threat," Doria muttered.
One of the trainees cried out, pointing to the two moving mounds out on the sand. "Sandworms! Traveling together!"
"Over there, too!" another said.
Doria saw that worms were all around them and closing in as if drawn by a common signal.
The women scrambled to take readings. "Gods! They're twice the size of the average specimens we recorded two months ago."
Inside Doria's head, Bellonda harped, Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"Shut up, damn you, Bell! I need to think."
Think? Can't you see the danger? Do something!
The worms rushed in from several directions; they showed definite signs of cooperative behavior. The shifting lines in the sand reminded Doria of a pack. A hunting pack.
"To the 'thopters!" Doria saw that their group had come too far out along the dunes. The flying vehicles were some distance away.
The newly trained Sisters began to panic. Some of them ran, sliding in tumbles of loose sand down the slipface of the dunes. They dropped their instruments and charts on the ground. A Sister sent an urgent commlink message back to Chapterhouse Keep.
See where your stupid plan got you, Bellonda said. If you had not killed me, I would have been able to keep watch. I would never have let this happen.
"Shut up!"
Those worms are stalking you now. You stalked me, and now they're stalking you.
One of the Sisters screamed, and then another. More worms rose up from the dunes, homing in on the moving figures. Several Valkyrie trainees stood together, trying to fight against the impossible.
Doria stared, wide-eyed. The creatures were each at least twenty meters long, and moved with astonishing speed. "Begone! Back to your desert!"
You're not Sheeana. The worms will not do as you say.
Crystal teeth flashed as the worms darted forward, scooping up sand and Sisters, swallowing victims into the furnaces of their gullets.
Idiot! Bellonda-within exclaimed. Now you've killed me twice.
A fraction of a second later, a worm rose up then dove down, consuming Doria in a single mouthful. At last, the irksome voice went quiet within.
The magic of our God is our only bridge.
--from the Sufi-Zensunni scriptures,
Catechism of the Great Belief
