Heretics of Dune by Frank Herbert

“So it’s true what our informants said.”

“They went back to the primitive Tantric and developed their own ways of sexual stimulation, Master. Through this, they accept the worship of their followers.”

“Worship.” He breathed the word. “Are they superior to the Breeding Mistresses of the Sisterhood?”

“The Honored Matres believe so, Master. Shall we demon –”

“No!” Waff dropped his elfin mask at this discovery and assumed the expression of a dominant Master. The Face Dancers nodded their heads in submission. A look of glee came over Waff’s face. The returned Tleilaxu of the Scattering reported truthfully! By a simple mind-print he had confirmed this new weapon of his people!

“What are your orders, Master?” the old one asked.

Waff resumed his elfin mask. “We will explore these matters only when we have returned to the Tleilaxu core at Bandalong. Meanwhile, even a Master does not give orders to an Honored Matre. You are my masters until we are free of prying eyes.”

“Of course, Master. Shall I now convey your orders to the others outside?”

“Yes, and these are my orders: This no-ship must never return to Gammu. It must vanish without a trace. No survivors.”

“It will be done, Master.”

Technology, in common with many other activities, tends toward avoidance of risks by investors. Uncertainty is ruled out if possible. Capital investment follows this rule, since people generally prefer the predictable. Few recognize how destructive this can be, how it imposes severe limits on variability and thus makes whole populations fatally vulnerable to the shocking ways our universe can throw the dice.

-Assessment of Ix, Bene Gesserit Archives

On the morning after that initial test in the desert, Sheeana awoke in the priestly complex to find her bed surrounded by white-robed people.

Priests and priestesses!

“She’s awake,” a priestess said.

Fear gripped Sheeana. She clutched the bed covers close to her chin while she stared out at those intent faces. Were they going to abandon her in the desert again? She had slept the sleep of exhaustion in the softest bed with the cleanest linen she had experienced in her eight years but she knew everything the priests did could have a double meaning. They were not to be trusted!

“Did you sleep well?” It was the priestess who had spoken first. She was a gray-haired older woman, her face framed in a white cowl with purple trim. The old eyes were watery but alert. Pale blue. The nose was an upturned stub above a narrow mouth and outjutting chin.

“Will you speak to us?” the woman persisted. “I am Cania, your night attendant. Remember? I helped you into your bed.”

At least, the tone of voice was reassuring. Sheeana sat up and took a better look at these people. They were afraid! A desert child’s nose could detect the telltale pheromones. To Sheeana, it was a simple, straightforward observation: That smell equals fear.

“You thought you would hurt me,” she said. “Why did you do that?”

The people around her exchanged looks of consternation.

Sheeana’s fear dissipated. She had sensed the new order of things and yesterday’s trial in the desert meant more change. She recalled how subservient the older woman . . . Cania? She had been almost groveling the previous night. Sheeana would learn in time that any person who lived through the decision to die evolved a new emotional balance. Fears were transitory. This new condition was interesting.

Cania’s voice trembled when she responded: “Truly, Child of God, we did not intend harm.”

Sheeana straightened the bedcovers on her lap. “My name is Sheeana.” That was desert politeness. Cania already had produced a name. “Who are these others?”

“They will be sent away if you don’t want them . . . Sheeana.” Cania indicated a florid-faced woman at her left dressed in a robe similar to her own. “All except Alhosa, of course. She is your day attendant.”

Alhosa curtsied at the introduction.

Sheeana stared up at a face puffy with waterfat, heavy features in a nimbus of fluffy blond hair. Shifting her attention abruptly, Sheeana looked at the men in the group. They watched her with heavy-lidded intentness, some with looks of trembling suspicion. The fear smell was strong.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *