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Teg smiled with the memory. "They wouldn't have worked for anyone else. As the Bene Gesserit use their Missionaria Protectiva to plant the seeds of religious fervor, so my soldiers created a myth about my abilities. I became larger than life, and my opponents managed to intimidate themselves more than my soldiers or weapons could have done. I really did very little in each battle."
"I disagree, sir. In order for your reputation to become such a potent tool, you first had to earn it."
Teg smiled and kept his voice low, almost wistful as he admitted the truth in his own mythology. "Ah, and earn it I did." He explained to the fascinated young man how he had also averted a massacre on Andioyu, a confrontation against the desperate dregs of a losing army that would surely have resulted in their deaths as well as the slaughter of tens of thousands of civilians. Much had hung in the balance on that day . . . .
"And then you died on Rakis fighting the Honored Matres."
"As a point of fact, I died on Rakis to provoke the Honored Matres, as part of the overall Bene Gesserit plan. I played my role so that Duncan Idaho and Sheeana could escape. But after I was killed, the Sisterhood brought me back because they considered my Mentat skills and experiences to be invaluable--like your own. That is why they brought us all back."
Thufir was completely engrossed. "I've read the history of my own life, and I'm convinced that I can learn much from you, Bashar."
With a smile, Teg squeezed the boy's shoulder. Thufir was abashed. "Have I said something amusing, sir?"
"When I look at you, how can I not remember that I myself learned a great deal from studying the famous warrior-Mentat of House Atreides? You and I could be very useful to each other." The boy blushed.
When the debate began, Teg and Thufir turned their attention to the center of the convocation chamber. Sheeana remained seated in the imposing Advocate's Chair, a carryover from when this vessel had been designed for other groups.
Garimi, as usual, was anxious to provoke a change in the status quo. She strutted forward to the podium and spoke without preamble, loud enough for everyone to hear. "We did not depart on a race or a journey. Our goal was to get away from Chapterhouse before the Honored Matres destroyed everything. Our intent was to preserve the core of the Sisterhood, and we have done so. But where are we going? That question has plagued us for nineteen years."
Duncan stood. "We escaped from the true Enemy who was closing in. They still want us--that hasn't changed."
"Do they want us?" Garimi challenged. "Or do they want you?"
He shrugged. "Who can say? I am not willing to be captured or destroyed just to have your questions answered. Many of us have special talents on this ship--especially the ghola children--and we need all of our resources."
The Rabbi spoke up. Though he was still fit and healthy, his beard and hair were grayer and longer now; behind spectacles, his bird-bright eyes were surrounded by a mesh of wrinkles. "My people and I did not choose any of this. We asked for rescue from Gammu, and we've been trapped in your folly ever since. When will it end? After forty years in the wilderness? When will you let us go?"
"And where would you like to go, Rabbi?" Sheeana's voice was calm, but Teg thought it sounded somewhat patronizing.
"I would like us to consider--seriously consider--the planet we have just found. I am reluctant to call it Zion, but perhaps it is enough to call it home." The old man looked back at his handful of followers, all of whom wore dark clothes and adhered to their old ways. Though aboard the Ithaca they no longer needed to hide their religion, the Jews mostly kept to themselves, unwilling to be assimilated by the other passengers. They had their own children, ten so far, and raised them as they saw fit.
Finally, Teg spoke. "According to our scans, this planet appears to be an excellent place to settle. The population is minimal. Our group of refugees would cause almost no disturbance at all to the local inhabitants. We could even choose an isolated spot and settle far from the natives."
"How advanced is their civilization? Do they have technology?" Sheeana asked.
"At least at pre-Scattering levels," Teg said. "Indications show minor local industries, a few electromagnetic transmissions. No apparent spaceflight capability, no visible spaceports. If they settled here after the Scattering, they haven't done any more traveling to other star systems." In running scans of the new planet, he had enlisted the aid of eager young Liet-Kynes and his friend Stilgar, both of whom had studied more about ecology and planetary dynamics than most of the adult Sisters. All of the readings checked out.
"It could be a new Chapterhouse," Garimi said, as if the discussion were already over.
Duncan's face darkened. "We would be vulnerable if we settled there. The hunters have found us several times already. If we remain too long in one place, we will be ensnared in their net."
"Why would your mysterious hunters have any interest in my people?" the Rabbi said. "We are free to settle on this world."
"It's clear that we must investigate further," Sheeana said. "We will take a lighter down to the surface on a fact-finding mission. Let's meet these people and learn from them. Then we can all make an informed decision."
Teg turned to the young ghola in the seat beside him and said impulsively, "I intend to go on this expedition, Thufir, and I would like you to accompany me."
In our arrogant assumption of superiority, we believe that our developed senses and abilities are the direct result of evolution. We are convinced that our race has bettered itself through technological advancement. Therefore, we are shamed and embarrassed when something we consider to be "primitive" has senses far superior to our own.
--REVEREND MOTHER SHEEANA,
Ithaca logs
W
hile the mission to the planet was being assembled, the Ithaca rode unseen in orbit. Though the no-field limited the ship's sensors, it was a necessary safety factor until they learned more about the inhabitants.
As the de facto captain, Duncan would remain aboard the no-ship, ready in the event of an emergency, since only he could see the mysterious web. Sheeana wanted Miles Teg with her, and the Bashar insisted on bringing the ghola of Thufir Hawat. "Physically he is only twelve years old, but we know Thufir has the potential to become a great warrior-Mentat. We must encourage those skills to blossom if he is
to be useful to us." No one argued with his choice.
Concurrent with the fact-finding mission, Duncan made arrangements for a small contingent of workers to go to an uninhabited part of the planet with equipment to gather water, air, and any available food, in order to bolster the no-ship's supplies. Just in case they decided to move on.
As Sheeana was finalizing the details for departure, the Rabbi entered the navigation bridge and stood as if expecting a challenge. His eyes flashed, and his stance stiffened, though no one had yet argued with him, or even spoken to him. His demand surprised them. "I will go down to the planet with this expedition. My people insist on it. If this is to be a home for us, I will make that decision. You will not stop me from going along. It is my right."
"It is a small group," Sheeana cautioned. "We don't know what we'll encounter down there."
The Rabbi jabbed a finger at Teg. "He plans to bring one of the ghola children. If it is safe enough for a twelve-year-old boy, then it is safe enough for me."
Duncan had known the original Thufir Hawat. Even without his memories restored, he would not consider the ghola a mere child. Nevertheless, he said, "I don't object to you joining the party, if Sheeana will have you."
"Sheeana does not decide my fate!"
She seemed amused by his posturing. "Don't I? It seems to me that all the decisions I make aboard this no-ship have a direct impact on your situation."
Impatient, Teg cut off their bickering. "We have had nineteen years aboard this vessel to argue amongst ourselves. A planet waits for us. Shouldn't we see what we are quarreling about first?"
BEFORE SHE COULD depart for the planet, Sheeana was called to the brig levels by a nervous worker. The Futars let out a great caterwauling, far more restless than usual inside their locked, metal-walled arboretum. They paced, searching for a way out. Whenever they came close to each other, they snapped and snarled, halfheartedly slashing at each other. Then, before more than a few droplets of blood could fly into the air, the beast-men lost interest and continued prowling. One of them emitted a bloodcurdling shriek, a noise perfectly programmed to evoke primal human fear. In all the years aboard the no-ship, the Futars had never exhibited such frantic behavior before.
