Having led the original operation to hide the computers, she knew where to find the limestone sinkhole. She came upon the dim, moss-blurred outline of a mushroom-shaped rock, recognized the landmark, and moved off the trail to explore, telling the others to wait. Valya found a loose stack of pancake-shaped limestone slabs as high as her shoulders. She walked around it, discovering one of the loose slabs fallen to one side — it looked natural to the casual eye. Using her goggles, she enhanced the detail.
“Over here,” she called. “I need help.”
Valya stood aside and directed two of her commandos to push. Under their effort the stone moved, revealing a concealed cave opening and a sloping passage lined with rough limestone steps. She adjusted her light-enhancing goggles and entered the darkness, leading the way down.
When she and her companions had hidden the components here, they’d had very little time. Mother Superior distracted Dorotea’s followers by inviting them to a debate, fooling the detractors into believing that the subject of computers was open for discussion. And while that was happening, Valya had saved the machines and records.
Now the rest of her team followed Valya down the sloping passage to the underground cenote chamber. The access tunnels had been widened by generations of the Misborn, outcasts from the cliff city who lived in isolation around the underground pools. The Misborn were gone now, having died out in the generations since the end of the Jihad.
Valya removed her night-vision goggles and switched on a bright illuminator. Overhead, the thick, hairy roots of trees penetrated through the ceiling, dangling down like lost ropes. Water dripped and echoed in the tunnels.
Valya remembered the route; she counted her steps, then looked to her right and found a narrow, chest-high opening. She pointed the illuminator beam, revealing a rock tunnel. “This should be the place.”
The other Sisters pressed close, ready to help. Valya looked at Olivia, summoned a sense of command, and altered her voice into a lower, more throaty range. She had been observing Olivia, assessing her, learning her weak points that could be manipulated. Setting the pitch of her voice, she said, “Crawl in there and verify that the components are intact.”
She had been practicing a new technique she had discovered since becoming a Reverend Mother, a way of influencing people by utilizing her voice to manipulate that person’s will. Now she was pleased by how effective the command was against even a Sister Mentat. “Crawl in there.” It was like an invisible push.
Olivia froze for an instant, and then, as if an unseen hand pushed her, she sprang into the tunnel opening. She seemed startled by her reflexive reaction and cried out in alarm, then recovered and proceeded into the passage, crawling along. When she saw Olivia’s response, Valya felt a giddy sense of power.
She analyzed what she had done, trying to memorize the compulsion she had put into her voice. It seemed boosted by the power of Other Memory she carried within herself — she’d noticed that the throaty sound of her compelling Voice bore certain similarities to the cacophony of Other Memory she heard in her mind, a low rumble of background noise from those ancestral females. She could enhance her compulsion with nuances tailored to what she knew of Olivia. And the woman responded as expected.
Valya smiled, knowing she had to practice this further. This would bear greater study.
Olivia crawled into the darkness until she had the presence of mind to activate her own illuminator. In a breathless voice, she called back, “The containers are here, the components still sealed in polymer sheets.”
Valya felt a sense of relief, but wanted to hurry. Trying to summon her commanding voice again, but without as strong an effect this time, she spoke to two of her commandos, Sisters Ulia and Stancy. She added a little push to see what would happen. “Help Olivia move the components. Bring them all out with extreme care. Then we’ll load them in the suspensor bins and make our way back to the shuttle. We can be gone by sunrise.”
Standing back, Valya watched while the other Sisters did the work of retrieving the computers. She took inventory, keeping track of each component.
The Sisters emerged, smeared with dirt and spores, and moved the components up the passage to the suspensor bins. The team members spoke in hushed whispers, not out of fear of Imperial detection, but because the cenote chamber seemed to hold eerie memories.
Valya felt a sense of awe, knowing what the computer records contained, a glimpse into the grand tapestry of the human genome, the near-infinite branches of humanity that had evolved over millions of years, and would continue to evolve … preferably under careful guidance from the Sisterhood.
From the days of the great machine plagues, the Sorceresses of Rossak had compiled a treasure trove of bloodlines from thousands of primary family lines. Raquella had continued that tremendous project — and it could all have been lost because of a superstitious fool like Dorotea and the fanatical Butlerians who feared information for its own sake.
Because of these computers, the Sisterhood had split in two like a block of dry firewood. Was it just a philosophical difference? Or did Dorotea have personal reasons for trying to destroy Raquella?
If Mother Superior Raquella died without a clear successor and the orthodox Sisters subsumed the rest of the order, that would destroy everything Raquella had created. Looking around the dim and mysterious cenote now, Valya thought Dorotea’s abomination of a splinter group was as misborn as the mutated humans who had once lived down here in the pit.
Valya had never spoken aloud to anyone except to her sister, Tula, about the other, personal importance of these records that would allow them to track down the descendants of Vorian Atreides. If they intended to wipe out the Atreides bloodline, first they had to find them.…
Valya could take the reins of the Sisterhood and dispatch Tula to regain Harkonnen honor, while she herself mapped out a long-term plan for the true Sisterhood. She would need skilled fighters, political strategists, Mentats, Truthsayers, and breeders to help shape the human race.
Dorotea could not be allowed to cause further problems.
By the time they emerged into the dark jungle, the women had less than an hour before dawn, but clouds had gathered overhead, adding more cover. Maneuvering the suspensor bins along the already-cleared path, they rushed back to the camouflaged shuttle.
Chapter 20 (Is anything truly as we perceive it)
Is anything truly as we perceive it? What are the filters to our perception? The most honest among us will look deeply to examine how our opinions are skewed by our own delusions.
— training of the Orthodox Sisterhood
To celebrate the symbolic triumph of humans over thinking machines — no matter that it was just a pyramid chess game — Salvador Corrino had scheduled a parade through the capital city of Zimia. He would sit in an ornate open carriage pulled by four spirited golden lions and listen to the cheers of the crowd.
He had the uneasy feeling, though, that they would be cheering for Manford Torondo, not him. The Butlerian leader had brought out his intense, fanatical followers, and they were already crowding the streets. How could there be so many of them in Salvador’s own capital city?
Manford rode beside the Emperor on a specially designed seat in the carriage, so that both of them could wave to the bright-eyed throngs on each side of the street. With a clang and a clatter, the remnants of the defeated combat mek were dragged along behind the royal carriage, like the corpse of an overthrown tyrant. For security, uniformed Imperial troops marched behind the carriage.