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"We're still missing something," he mused. "I can feel it."
Once before, at the end of the Battle of Junction, Teg had failed to see the terrible and deadly "Weapon" that the Honored Matres had held in reserve. That mistake had nearly lost him the entire war. He considered their situation now. What deadly device will I fail to see this time?
Humanity has a great genetic compass that constantly guides us onward. Our task is to keep it always pointed in the right direction.
--REVEREND MOTHER ANGELOU,
famed breeding mistress
Wellington Yueh had a powerful need to be forgiven. The blank spot in his mind was filled with guilt. He was just a ghola and only thirteen, but he knew he had done terrible things. His own history clung to him like tar to his shoe.
In his first life, he had broken his Suk conditioning. He had failed his wife Wanna by allowing the Harkonnens to use her as a pawn and had betrayed Duke Leto, bringing about the Atreides downfall on Arrakis.
After studying records of his prior existence, learning in painful detail what he had done, Yueh tried to find solace in considering the Orange Catholic Bible, along with other ancient religions, sects, philosophies, and interpretations that had developed over the millennia. The oft-repeated doctrine of Original Sin--so unfair!--was a particular thorn in his side. Yueh could have made a coward's excuse that he couldn't remember and therefore didn't deserve blame, but that was not the path to redemption. He had to turn elsewhere.
Jessica was the only one who could forgive him.
The eight ghola children in Sheeana's project had been raised and trained together. Because of their individual personalities they had formed personal bonds and friendships. Even before they knew the history that should tear them apart, Yueh had tried to be a friend to Jessica.
He had read the journals and instructional writings of the original Lady Jessica, bound concubine to the Duke Leto Atreides. She'd also been a Reverend Mother, an exile, the mother of Muad'Dib, and the grandmother of the Tyrant. That long-dead Jessica had been a strong woman, a role model despite how the Bene Gesserit reviled her for her flaw, her weakness. Love.
Together, the gholas now faced a far greater enemy than the Harkonnens. When Jessica's memories were finally awakened, would the shared threat be sufficient to keep her from wanting to murder him? He had read her own words, as written down by Princess Irulan, expressing her poignant agony of grief: "Yueh! Yueh! Yueh! A million deaths were not enough for Yueh!"
Yes, she was the only one who could offer him any hope of forgiveness. With a clean slate and an open heart, he prayed that it was possible for him to lead an honorable life this time.
Jessica often occupied herself in the main conservatory, tending the plants that served as a supplemental food source for the hundreds aboard. She had an affinity for the greenhouse work and was happy to be around the fertile dirt, the misting irrigators, the fleshy green leaves, and sweet-scented flowers. With her bronze hair and oval face, noble and young, she looked exquisitely beautiful. How she and Duke Leto must have loved each other long ago . . . until Yueh destroyed it all.
Jessica looked up from the flowers and lush herbs to focus haunted eyes on Yueh.
He said, "Do you mind the company?"
"Not yours. It's refreshing to be with someone who doesn't blame me for things I don't remember doing."
"I hope you'll grant me the same consideration, my Lady."
"Please don't call me that, Wellington. At least not yet. I can't be the Lady Jessica until I . . . well, until I become the Lady Jessica."
He tried to guess the reasons for her gloomy mood. "Has Garimi been haranguing you again?"
"Some Bene Gesserits won't forgive me for having gone against the strict commands of the Sisterhood, for betraying their breeding program." She seemed to be reciting something she had read. "The consequences of that brought down an empire and subjected the human race to thousands of years of tyrannical rule and many more centuries of privation." She let out a bitter laugh. "In fact, if your actions had actually resulted in the death of Paul and me, maybe Bene Gesserit histories would describe you as a hero."
"I am no hero, Jessica." To his credit, the original Yueh had given her and Paul the means to survive in the desert after the Harkonnens stormed Arrakeen. He had facilitated their escape, but was that enough for redemption? Could it possibly be?
She moved on, smelling the flowers, checking the moist soil. She had a habit of running her fingertips along the leaves, touching the undersides.
Yueh followed her as she walked through a small grove of dwarf citrus trees. Overhead, the segmented panes of the filtered windows showed only distant starlight and no nearby sun. "If they hate us so much, why did the Sisters bring us back?"
Her expression was one of bitter amusement. "Bene Gesserits have a terrible habit, Wellington: Even if they know a hook is hidden inside the juicy worm, they'll still bite. They always think they can avoid traps that get the rest of us."
"But you're a Bene Gesserit yourself."
"Not anymore . . . or not yet."
Yueh touched his own smooth, unmarked forehead. "We're starting over, Jessica. Blank slates. Look at me. The first Yueh broke his Suk conditioning--but I was born without the diamond tattoo. Entirely unblemished."
"Maybe that means some things can be erased."
"Can they? We gholas were raised for one purpose: to become who we once were. But are we anyone in our own right? Or are gholas simply tools, temporary tenants living in houses on borrowed time until the rightful owners return? What if we don't want those old lives? Is it right for Sheeana and the others to force them upon us? What about us as we are right now?"
Abruptly the gridwork of interlocking solar panes overhead seemed to glow brighter, as if the system had absorbed a wash of outside energy. The rows of densely arranged plants inside the greenhouse chamber became more defined, as if his eyes had suddenly become much more sensitive. Overlaying the whole chamber he saw a complex mesh of thin iridescent lines, resolving and focusing.
Something was happening--something Yueh had never experienced before. The lines became visible all around them, like fine netting that drifted through the air itself. They crackled with energy.
"Jessica, what is this? Do you see it?"
"A web . . . a net." She caught her breath. "It's what Duncan Idaho claims to see!"
Yueh's heart lurched. The hunters?
A loud security klaxon went off, accompanied by Duncan's voice. "Prepare for activation of Holtzman engines!"
Whenever the no-ship folded space, unguided by a Navigator, they risked a disaster. Until now, Duncan's warnings had been unsupported by outside witnesses, though the Handlers had proved that the threat from the mysterious Enemy was real.
From the ship's corridors, Yueh heard the shouts of people running to emergency stations. The gossamer stranglehold grew brighter and more powerful, surrounding and infiltrating the whole ship. Surely, everyone could see this!
He felt a shudder through the deck, a disorientation and a slipping as the immense ship folded space. Staring through the conservatory dome, he saw star systems, swirling shapes and colors . . . as if the contents of the universe had been placed in a mixing bowl and stirred.
Suddenly the Ithaca cruised along elsewhere, far from the snares. Duncan's calm voice came over the intercom. "We are safe again, for the moment."
"Why did we see the net now and never before?" Jessica asked.
Yueh rubbed his chin, his thoughts in turmoil. "Perhaps the Enemy is using a different sort of net--a stronger one. Or maybe they are testing new ways of tracking and snaring us."
We must never voice doubt. We must believe utterly that we can win this struggle against our Enemy. But in my darkest times alone in my quarters, I always wonder: Is this truly faith, or is it mere foolishness?
--MOTHER COMMANDER MURBELLA,
private Chapterhouse Archives
When Murbella's small Missionaria Aggressiva counci
