Heretics of Dune
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Odrade rubbed her own forehead, taking a moment to review her thoughts. This was so difficult with someone who rejected affection, with someone who thrust outward from a core of rage. Taraza had no... no simpatico. She could not assume the flesh and senses of another except as an exercise in logic.
"A ghola's awakening must be a shattering experience," Odrade said, lowering her hand. "Only the ones with enormous mental resilience would survive."
"We assume that the Tleilaxu Masters are more than they appear to be."
"And the Duncan Idahos?"
"Of course. Why else would the Tyrant keep buying them from the Tleilaxu?"
Odrade saw that the argument was pointless. She said: "The Idahos were notoriously loyal to the Atreides and we must remember that I am Atreides."
"You think loyalty will bind this one to you?"
"Especially after Lucilla -"
"That may be too dangerous!"
Odrade sat back into a corner of the divan. Taraza wanted certainty. And the lives of the serial gholas were like melange, presenting a different taste in different surroundings. How could they be sure of their ghola?
"The Tleilaxu meddle with the forces that produced our Kwisatz Haderach," Taraza muttered.
"You think that's why they want our breeding records?"
"I don't know! Damn you, Dar! Don't you see what you've done?"
"I think I had no choice," Odrade said.
Taraza produced a cold smile. Odrade's performance remained superb but she needed to be put in her place.
"You think I would have done the same?" Taraza asked.
She still does not see what has happened to me, Odrade thought. Taraza had expected her pliant Dar to act with independence but the extent of that independence had shaken the High Council. Taraza refused to see her own hand in this.
"Customary practice," Odrade said.
The words struck Taraza like a slap in the face. Only the hard training of a Bene Gesserit lifetime prevented her from striking out violently at Odrade.
Customary practice!
How many times had Taraza herself revealed this as a source of irritation, a constant goad to her carefully capped rage? Odrade had heard it often.
Odrade quoted the Mother Superior now: "Immovable custom is dangerous. Enemies can find a pattern and use it against you."
The words were forced from Taraza: "That is a weakness, yes."
"Our enemies thought they knew our way," Odrade said. "Even you, Mother Superior, thought you knew the limits within which I would perform. I was like Bellonda. Before she even spoke, you knew what Bellonda would say."
"Have we made a mistake, not elevating you above me?" Taraza asked. She spoke from her deepest allegiance.
"No, Mother Superior. We walk a delicate path but both of us can see where we must go."
"Where is Waff now?" Taraza asked.
"Asleep and well guarded."
"Summon Sheeana. We must decide whether to abort that part of the project."
"And take our lumps?"
"As you say, Dar."
Sheeana was still sleepy and rubbing her eyes when she appeared in the common room but she obviously had taken the time to splash water on her face and dress in a clean white robe. Her hair was still damp.
Taraza and Odrade stood near an eastern window with their backs to the light.
"This is Sheeana, Mother Superior," Odrade said.
Sheeana came fully alert with an abrupt stiffening of her back. She had heard of this powerful woman, this Taraza, who ruled the Sisterhood from a distant citadel called Chapter House. Sunlight was bright in the window behind the two women, shining full into Sheeana's face, dazzling her. It left the faces of the two Reverend Mothers partly obscured, the black outlines of their figures fuzzy in the brilliance.
Acolyte instructors had prepared her against this encounter: "You stand at attention before the Mother Superior and speak respectfully. Respond only when she speaks to you."
Sheeana stood at rigid attention the way she had been told.
"I am informed that you may become one of us," Taraza said.
Both women could see the effect of this on the girl. By now, Sheeana was more fully aware of a Reverend Mother's accomplishments. The powerful beam of truth had been focused on her. She had begun to grasp at the enormous body of knowledge the Sisterhood had accumulated over the millennia. She had been told about selective memory transmission, about the workings of Other Memories, about the spice agony. And here before her stood the most powerful of all Reverend Mothers, one from whom nothing was hidden.
When Sheeana did not respond, Taraza said: "Have you nothing to say, child?"
"What is there to say, Mother Superior? You have said it all."
Taraza sent a searching glance at Odrade. "Have you any other little surprises for me, Dar?"
"I told you she was superior," Odrade said.
Taraza returned her attention to Sheeana. "Are you proud of that opinion, child?"
"It frightens me, Mother Superior."
Still holding her face as immobile as she could, Sheeana breathed more easily. Say only the deepest truth you can sense, she reminded herself. Those warning words from a teacher carried more meaning now. She kept her eyes slightly unfocused and aimed at the floor directly in front of the two women, avoiding the worst of the brilliant sunlight. She still felt her heart beating too rapidly and knew the Reverend Mothers would detect this. Odrade had demonstrated it many times.
"Well it should frighten you," Taraza said.
Odrade asked: "Do you understand what is being said to you, Sheeana?"
"The Mother Superior wishes to know if I am fully committed to the Sisterhood," Sheeana said.
Odrade looked at Taraza and shrugged. There was no need for more discussion of this between them. That was the way of it when you were part of one family as they were in the Bene Gesserit.
Taraza continued her silent study of Sheeana. It was a heavy gaze, energy-draining for Sheeana, who knew she must remain silent and permit that scorching examination.