Dune

An odor of melange pervaded the room, stronger than usual in a Reverend Mother’s quarters. Odrade passed a searching look across the furnishings: chairs, worktable, illumination from anchored glowglobes—everything placed where it would serve to advantage. But what was that oddly shaped mound of black plaz in the corner? More of Sheeana’s work?

These rooms fitted Sheeana, Odrade decided. Little other than the drawing to recall her origins but the view out any window might have been from Dar-es-Balat deep in Dune’s dry-lands.

A small rustling sound at the doorway alerted Odrade. She turned and there was Sheeana. Almost shy the way she peered around the door before entering Mother Superior’s presence.

Motion as words: “So she did come to my rooms. Good. Someone might have been careless with my invitation.”

Odrade’s readied senses tingled with Sheeana’s presence. The youngest-ever Reverend Mother. You often thought of Quiet Little Sheeana. She was not always quiet nor was she small but the label stuck. She was not even mousy, but frequently quiet like a rodent waiting at the edge of a field for the farmer to leave. Then the mouse would come darting out to glean fallen grains.

Sheeana came fully into the room and stopped less than a pace from Odrade. “We’ve been too long apart, Mother Superior.”

Odrade’s first impression was oddly jumbled.

Candor and concealment?

Sheeana stood quietly receptive.

This descendant of Siona Atreides had developed an interesting face under the Bene Gesserit patina. Maturity working on her according to both Sisterhood and Atreides designs. Marks of many decisions firmly taken. The slender, dark-skinned waif with sun-streaked brown hair had become this poised Reverend Mother. Skin still dark from long hours in the open. Hair still sun-streaked. The eyes, though—the steely total blue that said: “I have been through the Agony.”

What is it I sense in her?

Sheeana saw the look on Odrade’s face (Bene Gesserit naivete!) and knew this was the long-feared confrontation.

There can be no defense except my truth and I hope she stops short of a full confession!

Odrade watched her former student with exquisite care, every sense open.

Fear! What do I sense? Something when she spoke?

The steadiness of Sheeana’s voice had been shaped into the powerful instrument Odrade had anticipated at their first meeting. Sheeana’s original nature (a Fremen nature if there ever was one!) had been curbed and redirected. That core of vindictiveness smoothed out. Her capacity for love and hatred brought under tight reins.

Why do I get the impression she wants to hug me?

Odrade felt suddenly vulnerable.

This woman has been inside my defenses. No way to exclude her totally ever again.

Tamalane’s judgment came to mind: “She is one of those who keeps herself to herself. Remember Sister Schwangyu? Like that one but better at it. Sheeana knows where she is going. We’ll have to watch her carefully. Atreides blood, you know.”

“I’m Atreides, too, Tam.”

“Don’t think we ever forget it! You think we’d just stand idly by if Mother Superior chose to breed on her own? There are limits to our tolerance, Dar.”

“Indeed, this visit is long overdue, Sheeana.”

Odrade’s tone alerted Sheeana. She stared back suddenly with that look the Sisterhood called “BG placid,” than which there probably was nothing more placid in the universe, nothing more completely a mask of what occurred behind it. This was not just a barrier, it was a nothing. Anything on this mask would be transgression. This, in itself, was betrayal. Sheeana realized it immediately and responded with laughter.

“I knew you would come probing! The hand-talk with Duncan, right?” Please, Mother Superior! Accept this.

“All of it, Sheeana.”

“He wants someone to rescue them if Honored Matres attack.”

“That’s all?” Does she think me a complete fool?

“No. He wants information about our intentions . . . and what we’re doing to meet the Honored Matre threat.”

“What have you told him?”

“Everything I could.” Truth is my only weapon. I must divert her!

“Are you his friend at court, Sheeana?”

“Yes!”

“So am I.”