Duncan knelt above her. She had no idea how much time had passed. She tried to find the energy to sit up and failed. Slowly, reason returned.
She stared into Duncan’s eyes, knowing now who this man must be. Man? He was only a youth. But he had done things . . . things . . . All of the Honored Matres had been warned. There was a ghola armed with forbidden knowledge by the Tleilaxu. That ghola must be killed!
A small burst of energy surged into her muscles. She raised herself on her elbows. Gasping for breath, she tried to roll away from him and fell back to the soft surface.
By the Holy Rock of Dur! This male could not be permitted to live! He was a ghola and he could do things permitted only to Honored Matres. She wanted to strike out at him and, at the same time, she wanted to pull him back onto her body. The ecstasy! She knew that whatever he asked of her at this moment she would do. She would do it for him.
No! I must kill him!
Once more, she raised herself onto her elbows and, from there, managed to sit up. Her weakened gaze crossed the window where she had confined the Great Honored Matre and the guide. They still stood there looking at her. The man’s face was flushed. The face of the Great Honored Matre was as unmoving as the Rock of Dur itself.
How can she just stand there after what she has seen here? The Great Honored Matre must kill this ghola!
Murbella beckoned to the woman behind the plaz and rolled toward the locked door beside the sleeping pad. She barely managed to unbolt and open the door before falling back. Her eyes looked up at the kneeling youth. Sweat glistened on his body. His lovely body . . .
No!
Desperation drove her off onto the floor. She was on her knees there and then, mostly by will power, she stood. Energy was returning but her legs trembled as she staggered around the foot of the sleeping pad.
I will do it myself without thinking. I must do it.
Her body swayed from side to side. She tried to steady herself and aimed a blow at his neck. She knew this blow from long hours of practice. It would crush the larynx. The victim would die of asphyxiation.
Duncan dodged the blow easily, but he was slow . . . slow.
Murbella almost fell beside him but the hands of the Great Honored Matre saved her.
“Kill him,” Murbella gasped. “He’s the one we were warned about. He’s the one!”
Murbella felt hands on her neck, the fingers pressing fiercely at the nerve bundles beneath the ears.
The last thing Murbella heard before unconsciousness was the Great Honored Matre saying: “We will kill no one. This ghola goes to Rakis.”
The worst potential competition for any organism can come from its own kind. The species consumes necessities. Growth is limited by that necessity which is present in the least amount. The least favorable condition controls the rate of growth. (Law of the Minimum)
-From “Lessons of Arrakis”
The building stood back from a wide avenue behind a screen of trees and carefully tended flowering hedges. The hedges had been staggered in a maze pattern with man-high white posts to define the planted areas. No vehicle entering or leaving could do so at any speed above a slow crawl. Teg’s military awareness took all of this in as the armored groundcar carried him up to the door. Field Marshal Muzzafar, the only other occupant in the rear of the car, recognized Teg’s assessment and said:
“We’re protected from above by a beam enfilading system.” A soldier in camouflage uniform with a long lasgun on a sling over one shoulder opened the door and snapped to attention as Muzzafar emerged.
Teg followed. He recognized this place. It was one of the “safe” addresses Bene Gesserit Security had provided for him. Obviously, the Sisterhood’s information was out of date. Recently out of date, though, because Muzzafar gave no indication that Teg might know this place.