Heretics of Dune by Frank Herbert

Odrade smiled. “Then it’s true that Bellonda wants me permanently eliminated.”

“How did you . . .”

“Friendships can be a very valuable asset at times, Tar.”

“You tread on dangerous ground, Reverend Mother Odrade.”

“But I am not stumbling, Mother Superior Taraza. I am thinking long hard thoughts about the things Waff has revealed about those Honored Matres.”

“Tell me some of your thoughts.” There was implacable determination in Taraza’s voice.

“Let us make no mistakes about this,” Odrade said. “They have surpassed the sexual skills of our Imprinters.”

“Whores!”

“Yes, they employ their skills in a way ultimately fatal to themselves and others. They have been blinded by their own power.”

“Is that the extent of your long hard thoughts?”

“Tell me, Tar, why did they attack and obliterate our Keep on Gammu?”

“Obviously they were after our Idaho ghola, to capture him or kill him.”

“Why would that be so important to them?”

“What are you trying to say?” Taraza demanded.

“Could the whores have been acting upon information revealed to them by the Tleilaxu? Tar, what if this secret thing Waff’s people have introduced into our ghola is something that would make the ghola a male equivalent of the Honored Matres?”

Taraza put a hand to her mouth and dropped it quickly when she saw how much the gesture revealed. It was too late. No matter. They were still two Reverend Mothers together.

Odrade said: “And we have ordered Lucilla to make him irresistible to most women.”

“How long have the Tleilaxu been dealing with those whores?” Taraza demanded.

Odrade shrugged. “A better question is this: How long have they been dealing with their own Lost Ones returned from the Scattering? Tleilaxu speak to Tleilaxu and many secrets could be revealed.”

“A brilliant projection on your part,” Taraza said. “What probability value do you attach to it?”

“You know that as well as I do. It would explain many things.”

Taraza spoke bitterly. “What do you think of your alliance with the Tleilaxu now?”

“More necessary than ever. We must be on the inside. We must be where we can influence those who contend.”

“Abomination!” Taraza snapped.

“What?”

“This ghola is like a recording device in human shape. They have planted him in our midst. If the Tleilaxu get their hands on him they will know many things about us.”

“That would be clumsy.”

“And typical of them!”

“I agree that there are other implications in our situation,” Odrade said. “But such arguments only tell me that we dare not kill the ghola until we have examined him ourselves.”

“That might be too late! Damn your alliance, Dar! You gave them a hold on us . . . and us a hold on them — and neither of us dares let go.”

“Is that not the perfect alliance?”

Taraza sighed. “How soon must we give them access to our breeding records?”

“Soon. Waff is pressing the matter.”

“Then, will we see their axlotl . . . tanks?”

“That is, of course, the lever I am using. He has given his reluctant agreement.”

“Deeper and deeper into each other’s pockets,” Taraza growled.

Her tone all innocence, Odrade said: “A perfect alliance, just as I said.”

“Damn, damn, damn,” Taraza muttered. “And Teg has reawakened the ghola’s original memories!”

“But has Lucilla . . .”

“I don’t know!” Taraza turned a grim expression on Odrade and recounted the most recent reports from Gammu: Teg and his party located, the briefest of accounts about them and nothing from Lucilla; plans made to bring them out.

Her own words produced an unsettling picture in Taraza’s mind. What was this ghola? They had always known the Duncan Idahos were not ordinary gholas. But now, with augmented nerve and muscle capabilities plus this unknown thing the Tleilaxu had introduced — it was like holding a burning club. You knew you might have to use the club for your own survival but the flames approached at a terrifying speed.

Odrade spoke in a musing tone: “Have you ever tried to imagine what it must be like for a ghola suddenly to awaken in renewed flesh?”

“What? What are you . . .”

“Realizing that your flesh was grown from the cells of a cadaver,” Odrade said. “He remembers his own death.”

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