“Very few people realize how much of the infrastructure in a civilization is dependency infrastructure,” Taraza said. “We have made quite a study of this.”
Love is a dependency-infrastructure, Odrade thought. Why had Taraza hit on this subject at this time? The Mother Superior seldom did anything without deep motives. “Dependency infrastructure is a term that includes all things necessary for a human population to survive at existing or increased numbers,” Taraza said.
“Melange?” Teg asked.
“Of course, but most people look at the spice and say, ‘How nice it is that we can have it and it can give us so much longer lives than were enjoyed by our ancestors.’ ”
“Providing they can afford it.” Teg’s voice had a bite in it, Odrade noted.
“As long as no single power controls all of the market, most people have enough,” Taraza said.
“I learned economics at my mother’s knee,” Teg said. “Food, water, breathable air, living space not contaminated by poisons — there are many kinds of money and the value changes according to the dependency.”
As she listened to him, Odrade almost nodded in agreement. His response was her own. Don’t belabor the obvious, Taraza! Get to your point.
“I want you to remember your mother’s teachings very clearly,” Taraza said. How mild her voice was suddenly! Taraza’s voice changed abruptly then and she snapped: “Hydraulic despotism!”
She does that shift of emphasis well, Odrade thought. Memory spewed up the data like a spigot suddenly opened full force. Hydraulic despotism: central control of an essential energy such as water, electricity, fuel, medicines, melange . . . Obey the central controlling power or the energy is shut off and you die!
Taraza was talking once more: “There’s another useful concept that I’m sure your mother taught you — the key log.”
Odrade was very curious now. Taraza was headed somewhere important with this conversation. Key log: a truly ancient concept from the days before suspensors when lumbermen sent their fallen timber rushing down rivers to central mill sites. Sometimes the logs jammed up in the river and an expert was brought in to find the one log, the key log, which would free the jam when removed. Teg, she knew, would have an intellectual understanding of the term but she and Taraza could call up actual witnesses from Other Memories, see the explosion of broken bits of wood and water as a jam was released.
“The Tyrant was a key log,” Taraza said. “He created the jam and he released it.”
The lighter began trembling sharply as it took its first bite of Gammu’s atmosphere. Odrade felt the tightness of her restraining harness for a few seconds, then the craft’s passage became steadier. Conversation stopped for this interval, then Taraza continued:
“Beyond the so-called natural dependencies are some religions that have been created psychologically. Even physical necessities can have such an underground component.”
“A fact the Missionaria Protectiva understands quite well,” Teg said. Again, Odrade heard that undercurrent of deep resentment in his voice. Taraza certainly must hear it, too. What was she doing? She could weaken Teg!
“Ahhh, yes,” Taraza said. “Our Missionaria Protectiva. Humans have such a powerful need that their own belief structure be the ‘true belief.’ If it gives you pleasure or a sense of security and if it is incorporated into your belief structure, what a powerful dependency that creates!”
Again, Taraza fell silent while their lighter went through another atmospheric buffeting.
“I wish he would use his suspensors!” Taraza complained.
“It saves fuel,” Teg said. “Less dependency.”
Taraza chuckled. “Oh, yes, Miles. You know the lesson well. I see your mother’s hand in it. Damn the dam when the child strikes out in a dangerous direction.”
“You think of me as a child?” he asked.
“I think of you as someone who has just had his first direct encounter with the machinations of the so-called Honored Mattes.”
So that’s it, Odrade thought. And with a feeling of shock, Odrade realized that Taraza was aiming her words at a broader target than just Teg.
She’s talking to me!
“These Honored Matres, as they call themselves,” Taraza said, “have combined sexual ecstasy and worship. I doubt that they have even guessed at the dangers.”
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