Dune

Odrade heard this in the total receptivity these encounters with Murbella demanded, every sense alerted to things not spoken, messages that hovered on edges of words as though they were cilia wavering there, reaching for contact with a dangerous universe.

The Bene Gesserit must change its ways. And here is one who could guide us into change.

Bellonda would be horrified at the prospect. Many Sisters would reject it. But there it was.

When Odrade remained silent, Murbella said: “Trained. Is that the proper word?”

“Conditioned. That’s probably more familiar to you.”

“What you really want is to conjoin our experiences, make me sufficiently like you that we can create trust between us. That’s what all education does.”

Don’t play erudite games with me, girl!

“We would flow in the same stream, eh, Murbella?”

Any Third-Stage acolyte would have become watchfully cautious hearing that tone from Mother Superior. Murbella appeared unmoved. “Except that I will not give him up.”

“That is for you to decide.”

“Did you let the Lady Jessica decide?”

The way out of this cul-de-sac at last.

Duncan had prompted Murbella to study Jessica’s life. Hoping to thwart us! Holos of his performance had ignited severe analysis of records.

“An interesting person,” Odrade said.

“Love! After all of your teaching, your conditioning!”

“You did not think her behavior treasonous?”

“Never!”

Delicately now. “But look at consequences: a Kwisatz Haderach . . . and that grandchild, the Tyrant!” Argument dear to Bellonda’s heart.

“Golden Path,” Murbella said. “Survival of humankind.”

“Famine Times and the Scattering.”

Are you watching this, Bell? No matter. You will watch it.

“Honored Matres!” Murbella said.

“All because of Jessica?” Odrade asked. “But Jessica returned to the fold and lived out her years on Caladan.”

“Teacher of acolytes!”

“Example to them, as well. See what happens when you defy us?” Defy us, Murbella! Do it more adroitly than Jessica.

“Sometimes you repel me!” Natural honesty forced her to add: “But you know I want what you have.”

What we have.

Odrade recalled her own first encounters with Bene Gesserit attractions. Everything of the body done with exquisite precision, senses honed to detect smallest details, muscles trained to perform in marvelous exactitude. These abilities in an Honored Matre could only add a new dimension amplified by bodily speed.

“You’re throwing it back on me,” Murbella said. “Trying to force my choice when you already know it.”

Odrade remained silent. This was a form of argument ancient Jesuits had almost perfected. Simulflow superimposed disputational patterns: Let Murbella do her own convincing. Supply only the most subtle of nudges. Give her small excuses upon which to enlarge.

But hold fast, Murbella, to love for Duncan!

“You’re very clever at parading your Sisterhood’s advantages past me,” Murbella said.

“We are not a cafeteria line!”

An insoucient grin flicked Murbella’s mouth. “I’ll take one of those and one of these and I think I’d like one of those creamy things over there.”

Odrade enjoyed the metaphor but omnipresent watchers had their own appetites. “A diet that might kill you.”

“But I see your offerings displayed so attractively. Voice! What a marvelous thing you’ve cooked up there. I have this wonderful instrument in my throat and you can teach me to play it in that ultimate way.”

“Now, you’re a concert master.”

“I want your ability to influence those around me!”

“To what end, Murbella? For whose goals?”

“If I eat what you eat, will I grow into your kind of toughness: plasteel on the outside and even harder inside?”

“Is that how you see me?”

“The chef at my banquet! And I must eat whatever you bring—for my good and for yours.”

She sounded almost manic. An odd person. Sometimes she appeared to be the most wretched of women, pacing her quarters like a caged beast. That mad look in her eyes, orange flecks in the corneas . . . as there were now.

“Do you still refuse to work on Scytale?”

“Let Sheeana do it.”

“Will you coach her?”

“And she will use my coaching on the child!”

They stared at each other, realizing they shared a similar thought. This is not confrontation because each of us wants the other.

“I am committed to you for what you can give me,” Murbella said, her voice low. “But you want to know if I may ever act against that commitment?”

“Could you?”

“No more than you could if circumstances demanded it.”

“Do you think you will ever regret your decision?”

“Of course I will!” What kind of damnfool question was that? People always had regrets. Murbella said this.