Heretics of Dune by Frank Herbert

“Perhaps,” Lucilla agreed. She was not willing to concede this on the scanty evidence.

“Mother Superior Taraza has taken leave of her senses to dally with this ghola thing now,” Schwangyu said.

Lucilla remained silent. The ghola project definitely had touched an old nerve among the Sisters. The possibility, even remote, that they might arouse another Kwisatz Haderach sent shudders of angry fear through the ranks. To meddle with the worm-bound remnants of the Tyrant! That was dangerous in the extreme.

“We should never take that ghola to Rakis,” Schwangyu muttered. “Let sleeping worms lie.”

Lucilla gave her attention once more to the ghola-child. He had turned his back on the high parapet with its two Reverend Mothers, but something about his posture said he knew they discussed him and he awaited their response.

“You doubtless realize that you have been called in while he is yet too young,” Schwangyu said.

“I have never heard of the deep imprinting on one that young,” Lucilla agreed. She allowed something softly self-mocking in her tone, a thing she knew Schwangyu would hear and misinterpret. The management of procreation and all of its attendant necessities, that was the Bene Gesserit ultimate specialty. Use love but avoid it, Schwangyu would be thinking now. The Sisterhood’s analysts knew the roots of love. They had examined this quite early in their development but had never dared breed it out of those they influenced. Tolerate love but guard against it, that was the rule. Know that it lay deep within the human genetic makeup, a safety net to insure continuation of the species. You used it where necessary, imprinting selected individuals (sometimes upon each other) for the Sisterhood’s purposes, knowing then that such individuals would be linked by powerful bonding lines not readily available to the common awareness. Others might observe such links and plot the consequences but the linked ones would dance to unconscious music.

“I was not suggesting that it’s a mistake to imprint him,” Schwangyu said, misreading Lucilla’s silence.

“We do what we are ordered to do,” Lucilla chided. Let Schwangyu make of that what she would.

“Then you do not object to taking the ghola to Rakis,” Schwangyu said. “I wonder if you would continue such unquestioning obedience if you knew the full story?”

Lucilla inhaled a deep breath. Was the entire design for the Duncan Idaho gholas to be shared with her now?

“There is a female child named Sheeana Brugh on Rakis,” Schwangyu said. “She can control the giant worms.”

Lucilla concealed her alertness. Giant worms. Not Shai-hulud. Not Shaitan. Giant worms. The sandrider predicted by the Tyrant had appeared at last!

“I do not make idle chatter,” Schwangyu said when Lucilla continued silent.

Indeed not, Lucilla thought. And you call a thing by its descriptive label, not by the name of its mystical import. Giant worms. And you’re really thinking about the Tyrant, Leto II, whose endless dream is carried as a pearl of awareness in each of those worms. Or so we are led to believe.

Schwangyu nodded toward the child on the lawn below them. “Do you think their ghola will be able to influence the girl who controls the worms?”

We’re peeling away the skin at last, Lucilla thought. She said: “I have no need for the answer to such a question.”

“You are a cautious one,” Schwangyu said.

Lucilla arched her back and stretched. Cautious? Yes, indeed! Taraza had warned her: “Where Schwangyu is concerned, you must act with extreme caution but with speed. We have a very narrow window of time within which we can succeed.”

Succeed at what? Lucilla wondered. She glanced sideways at Schwangyu. “I don’t see how the Tleilaxu could succeed in killing eleven of these gholas. How could they get through our defenses?”

“We have the Bashar now,” Schwangyu said. “Perhaps he can prevent disaster.” Her tone said she did not believe this.

Mother Superior Taraza had said: “You are the Imprinter, Lucilla. When you get to Gammu you will recognize some of the pattern. But for your task you have no need for the full design.”

“Think of the cost!” Schwangyu said, glaring down at the ghola, who now squatted, pulling at tufts of grass.

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