Lucilla betrayed no emotional reaction. A Bene Gesserit obeyed. I am an Imprinter. So . . . Taraza’s orders and the Imprinter’s specialized training defined a particular course of events.
To Schwangyu, Lucilla said: “There is someone who looks like me and speaks with my voice. I am Imprinting for her. May I ask who that is?”
“No.”
Lucilla held her silence. She had not expected revelation but it had been remarked more than once that she bore a striking resemblance to Senior Security Mother Darwi Odrade. “A young Odrade.” Lucilla had heard this on several occasions. Both Lucilla and Odrade were, of course, in the Atreides line with a strong backbreeding from Siona descendants. The Fish Speakers had no monopoly on those genes! But the Other Memories of a Reverend Mother, even with their linear selectivity and confinement to the female side, provided important clues to the broad shape of the ghola project. Lucilla, who had come to depend on her experiences of the Jessica persona buried some five thousand years back in the Sisterhood’s genetic manipulations, felt a deep sense of dread from that source now. There was a familiar pattern here. It gave off such an intense feeling of doom that Lucilla fell automatically into the Litany Against Fear as she had been taught it in her first introduction to the Sisterhood’s rites:
“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”
Calm returned to Lucilla.
Schwangyu, sensing some of this, allowed her guard to drop slightly. Lucilla was no dullard, no special Reverend Mother with an empty title and barely sufficient background to function without embarrassing the Sisterhood. Lucilla was the real thing and some reactions could not be hidden from her, not even reactions of another Reverend Mother. Very well, let her know the full extent of the opposition to this foolish, this dangerous project!
“I do not think their ghola will survive to see Rakis,” Schwangyu said.
Lucilla let this pass. “Tell me about his friends,” she said.
“He has no friends; only teachers.”
“When will I meet them?” She kept her gaze on the opposite parapet where Patrin leaned idly-against a low pillar, his heavy lasgun at the ready. Lucilla realized with an abrupt shock that Patrin was watching her. Patrin was a message from the Bashar! Schwangyu obviously saw and understood. We guard him!
“I presume it’s Miles Teg you’re so anxious to meet,” Schwangyu said.
“Among others.”
“Don’t you want to make contact with the ghola first?”
“I’ve already made contact with him.” Lucilla nodded toward the enclosed yard where the child once more stood almost motionless and looking up at her. “He’s a thoughtful one.”
“I’ve only the reports on the others,” Schwangyu said, “but I suspect this is the most thoughtful one of the series.”
Lucilla suppressed an involuntary shudder at the readiness for violent opposition in Schwangyu’s words and attitude. There was not one hint that the child below them shared a common humanity.
While Lucilla was thinking this, clouds covered the sun as they often did here at this hour. A cold wind blew in over the Keep’s walls, swirling around the courtyard. The child turned away and picked up the speed of his exercises, getting his warmth from increased activity.
“Where does he go to be alone?” Lucilla asked.
“Mostly to his room. He has tried a few dangerous escapades, but we have discouraged this.”
“He must hate us very much.”
“I’m sure of it.”
“I will have to deal with that directly.”
“Surely, an Imprinter has no doubts about her ability to overcome hate.”
“I was thinking of Geasa.” Lucilla sent a knowing look at Schwangyu. “I find it astonishing that you let Geasa make such a mistake.”
“I don’t interfere with the normal progress of the ghola’s instructions. If one of his teachers develops a real affection for him, that is not my problem.”