Heretics of Dune by Frank Herbert

“I have heard enough of this nonsense!” the false Tuek exploded. He pushed one of the counselors roughly aside and strode into the middle of the arguing group, pivoting to stare into each face. “Are you all mad?”

One of the priests (It was old Albertus, by the gods!) looked across the room at Waff and called out: “Ser Waff! Will you please control your Face Dancer?”

Waff hesitated and then moved toward the disputants, his entourage close behind.

The false Tuek whirled and pointed a finger at Waff: “You! Stay where you are! I will brook no Tleilaxu interference! Your conspiracy is quite clear to me!”

Odrade had been watching Waff as the mimic Tuek spoke. Surprise! The Bene Tleilax Master had never before been addressed thus by one of his minions. What a shock! Rage convulsed his features. Humming sounds like the noises of angry insects came from his mouth, a modulated thing that clearly was some kind of language. The Face Dancers of his entourage froze but the false Tuek merely returned attention to his counselors.

Waff stopped humming. Consternation! His Face Dancer Tuek would not come to heel! He lurched into motion toward the priests. The false Tuek saw it and once more leveled a hand at him, the finger quivering.

“I told you to stay out of this! You might be able to do away with me but you’ll not saddle me with your Tleilaxu filth!”

That did it. Waff stopped. Realization came over him. He shot a glance at Taraza, seeing her amused recognition of his predicament. Now, he had a new target for his rage.

“You knew!”

“I suspected.”

“You . . . you . . .”

“You fashioned too well,” Taraza said. “It’s your own doing.”

The priests were oblivious to this exchange. They shouted at the false Tuek, ordering him to shut up and remove himself, calling him a “damned Face Dancer!”

Odrade studied the object of this attack with care. How deep did the print go? Had he really convinced himself that he was Tuek?

In a sudden lull, the mimic drew himself up with dignity and sent a scornful glance at his accusers. “You all know me,” he said. “You all know my years of service to the Divided God Who is One God. I will go to Him now if your conspiracy extends to that but remember this: He knows what is in your hearts!”

The priests looked as one man to Waff. None of them had seen a Face Dancer replace their High Priest. There had been no body to see. Every bit of evidence was the evidence of human voices saying things that might be lies. Belatedly, several looked at Odrade. Her voice was one of those that had convinced them.

Waff, too, was looking at Odrade.

She smiled and addressed herself to the Tleilaxu Master. “It suits our purposes that the High Priesthood not pass into other hands at this time,” she said.

Waff immediately saw the advantage to himself. This was a wedge between priests and Bene Gesserit. This removed one of the most dangerous holds the Sisterhood had on the Tleilaxu.

“It suits my purposes, too,” he said.

As the priests once more lifted their voices in anger, Taraza came in right on cue: “Which of you will break our accord?” she demanded.

Tuek thrust two of his counselors aside and strode across the room to the Mother Superior. He stopped only a pace from her.

“What game is this?” he asked.

“We support you against those who would replace you,” she said. “The Bene Tleilax join us in this. It is our way of demonstrating that we, too, have a vote in selecting the High Priest.”

Several priestly voices were raised in unison: “Is he or is he not a Face Dancer?”

Taraza looked benignly at the man in front of her: “Are you a Face Dancer?”

“Of course not!”

Taraza looked at Odrade, who said: “There seems to have been a mistake.”

Odrade singled out Albertus among the priests and locked eyes with him. “Sheeana,” Odrade said, “what should the Church of the Divided God do now?”

As she had been briefed to do, Sheeana stepped out of her guardian enclosure and spoke with all of the hauteur she had been taught: “They shall continue to serve God!”

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