“As I was commanded, I made contact with the lxians at
their Embassy and presented your greetings. I then inquired if they had any messages for me to bring back.”
“Yes, yes, girl! I know. Get to the heart of it.”
The messenger gulped. “The spokesman identified himself as Othwi Yake, temporary superior in the Embassy and assistant to the former Ambassador.”
“You’re sure he was not a Face Dancer substitute?”
“None of the signs were there, Reverend Mother.”
“Very well. We know this Yake. You may continue.”
“Yake said they were awaiting the arrival of the new . _ .”
“Hwi Noree, the new Ambassador, yes. She’s due here today.”
The messenger wet her lips with her tongue.
Anteac made a mental note to return this poor creature to a more elementary training schedule. Messengers should have better self-control, although some allowance had to be made for the seriousness of this message.
“He then asked me to wait,” the messenger said. “He left the room and returned shortly with a Tleilaxu, a Face Dancer, I’m sure of it. There were the certain signs of the. ..”
“I’m sure you’re correct, girl,” Anteac said. “Now, get to the. . .” Anteac broke off as Luyseyal entered.
“What’s this I hear about messages from the lxians and Tleilaxu?” Luyseyal asked.
“The girl’s repeating it now,” Anteac said.
“Why wasn’t I summoned?” Anteac looked up at her fellow Truthsayer, thinking that Luyseyal might be one of the finest practitioners of the art but she remained too conscious of rank. Luyseyal was young, however, with the sensuous oval features of the Jessica-type, and those genes tended to carry a headstrong nature.
Anteac spoke softly: “Your acolyte said you were meditating.”
Luyseyal nodded, sat down on the pallet and spoke to the messenger. “Continue.”
“The Face Dancer said he had a message for the Reverend Mothers. He used the plural,” the messenger said.
“He knew there were two of us this time,” Anteac said.
“Everyone knows it,” Luyseyal said.
Anteac resumed her full attention to the messenger. “Would you enter memory-trance now, girl, and give us the Face Dancer’s words verbatim.”
The messenger nodded, sat back onto her heels and clasped her hands in her lap. She took three deep breaths, closed her eyes and let her shoulders sag. When she spoke, her voice had a high-pitched, nasal twang. “Tell the Reverend Mothers that by tonight the Empire will be rid of its God Emperor. We will strike him today before he reaches Onn. We cannot fail.” A deep breath shook the messenger. Her eyes opened and she looked up at Anteac. “The Ixian, Yake, told me to hurry back with this message. He then touched the back of my left hand in that particular way, further convincing me that he was not. . .” “Yake is one of ours,” Anteac said. “Tell Luyseyal the message of the fingers.” The messenger looked at Luyseyal. “We have been invaded by Face Dancers and cannot move.” As Luyseyal started and began to rise from the pallet, Anteac said: “I already have taken the appropriate steps to guard our doors.” Anteac looked at the messenger. “You may go now, girl. You have been adequate to your task.” “Yes, Reverend Mother.” The messenger lifted her lithe body with a certain amount of grace, but there was no doubt in her movements that she knew the import of Anteac’s words. Adequate was not well done. When the messenger had gone, Luyseyal said: “She should’ve made some excuse to study the Embassy and find out how many of the lxians have been replaced.” “I think not,” Anteac said. “In that respect, she performed well. No, but it would have been better had she found a way to get a more detailed report from Yake. I fear we have lost him.” “The reason the Tleilaxu sent us that message is obvious, of course,” Luyseyal said. “They are really going to attack him,” Anteac said. “Naturally. It’s what the fools would do. But I address myself to why they sent the message to us.” Anteac nodded. “They think we now have no choice except to join them.” “And if we try to warn the Lord Leto, the Tleilaxu will learn our messengers and their contacts.” “What if the Tleilaxu succeed?” Anteac asked. “Not likely.”