In private, the Harkonnen sisters discussed plans against the Atreides — a goal they shared even beyond their dedication to the Sisterhood. Valya, who had already shed blood to protect the Sisterhood, primed Tula to avenge their family’s shame through bloodshed.
Her sister was no shy and trembling flower. Valya had trained with her in mock combat, and knew that Tula was coming close to beating her. No one had done that since Valya’s sparring matches with Griffin.
The young blonde had a certain allure about her, an innocence and feigned vulnerability that made her attractive to young men. Valya had been helping her develop that sexual magnetism, counseling her to use her assets wisely. Tula needed to maximize her charms in preparation for meeting the unsuspecting young Atreides on far-off Caladan.…
She knew exactly when her sister was ready. Valya hugged her in a rare display of emotion, and both knew it was time for the next step.
They entered the Mother Superior’s office, and Valya stood with pride next to her younger sister, lending silent support, while Tula bowed before the ancient woman. Keeping her tone meek, Tula said, “Mother Superior, I thank you for the training you granted me. I learned much about the Sisterhood and about myself, but for the time being, I must leave the Sisterhood with great regret.” The hitch in her voice was carefully orchestrated, and convincing. “There are personal matters that demand my attention.”
The ancient woman looked carefully at Tula as if taking the girl’s measure. “You are an excellent student — as Valya promised you would be. I don’t understand why you would leave us.”
“Our family on Lankiveil faces difficult times, and House Bushnell is attempting to seize our holdings. Now I see that my decision to leave was impulsive—”
“As mine was,” Valya said, “when Sister Arlett recruited me for the Sisterhood. But our family situation was much different then.”
Raquella raised her eyebrows. “And?”
Tula lowered her eyes and answered with only the literal truth. “Because my obligations to House Harkonnen outweigh the demands that the Sisterhood would place on me, I must meet those obligations before I commit myself entirely to the Sisterhood. I have my parents and my remaining brother to consider. They have already lost Griffin, and Valya.”
With her heightened perceptions, Valya noticed a glimmer of disbelief in Raquella’s watery eyes, as she detected the falsehood of omission. But the Mother Superior finally nodded. “Very well. If you were to stay and become Sister Tula, you would no longer be Tula of House Harkonnen, so a choice would be required. I’m glad you realized that about yourself before further complications arose. We will miss you — you have great potential.”
Tula seemed to notice the same hint of skepticism. “Perhaps someday I’ll come back, after I’ve accomplished what I need to do.”
“Of course,” Raquella said. “But I suspect that will be a decision of the next Mother Superior.” She glanced at Valya, and Valya’s heart skipped a beat. She looked so old! Has she chosen me?
The rheumy eyes focused on Tula. “Should you decide to return, make certain you are willing to commit wholeheartedly first. Reflect on all you have learned among us.”
“I am grateful to have so much to reflect on, Mother Superior,” Tula said.
Valya knew her sister was also thinking about the knowledge from the breeding index, especially the locations of the Atreides descendants.
Chapter 32 (Crossing the line from friend)
Crossing the line from friend to enemy takes only a small step. The opposite journey, however, is far more difficult.
— Zensunni wisdom of the desert
Although Lampadas was surrounded by the Half-Manford’s Butlerian warships, their defenses were as effective as using a frayed net to hold back the rain. Draigo Roget took passage aboard a small VenHold ship and spent much of the voyage in a Mentat trance, planning conversations with his mentor, imagining outcomes.
He did not want to admit that he was nervous about the prospect of facing the Headmaster. Their last encounter at the Thonaris shipyards had nearly killed him, but he didn’t think he had misjudged Gilbertus’s true mindset, despite his — reluctant? — cooperation with the Butlerians.
After arranging a return rendezvous with the spacefolder that remained in distant orbit, Draigo descended to the wild part of the continent in a small unmarked shuttle. Headmaster Albans would not be expecting him, and Draigo didn’t know what sort of reception he would receive. He needed to be cautious.
A handful of the Mentat trainees were loyal to Manford Torondo. Gilbertus had been forced to welcome zealous Butlerian students to keep the leader satisfied. Draigo was more than a match for them, but he could never count on outthinking Gilbertus Albans.
The Headmaster kept his emotions tightly reined, but Draigo thought he knew the man’s heart. The two of them had grown close during years of instruction, and he didn’t think their bond would ever be broken. Although the Mentat curriculum was designed to teach human candidates to think without computers, Gilbertus was no mindless barbarian. He was a reasonable man, and Draigo had to count on that.…
By the light of the Lampadas moon, he landed his shuttle on the edge of the sangrove swamp and set off on foot across the sodden wilderness, through tall grasses and thorny thickets. He carried weapons and a personal body shield, not because he expected to fight his way through the school, but to defend against swamp predators. Although he remained alert for nocturnal creatures, his primary focus was on the tall buildings and the new defensive walls.
He envisioned the tangled waterways woven through the marshes in the shallows of the lake and brought forth the perfect memory picture of a path used by the Mentats. The labyrinth of sluggish, shallow channels provided an additional obstacle to protect the walled school, but he had long ago memorized where the submerged stepping-stones were, only centimeters beneath the surface. By taking careful steps now, he splashed his way across, barely getting his feet wet — but if he should miss a step, he would plunge in, with little chance of scrambling back out before razorjaws swarmed him or a swamp dragon lunged out to pick him off.
Draigo took pride in the knowledge that he was the greatest student the Mentat school had ever produced, the Headmaster’s trusted protégé. Gilbertus had wanted him to remain behind and teach other Mentats, but Draigo had other obligations to Directeur Venport.
When he had been pitted against Gilbertus at the Thonaris shipyards, Draigo had lost. But surely the Headmaster regretted the senseless mayhem and all the deaths the Butlerians had caused. A Mentat must be rational, if not compassionate. A Mentat must revere efficiency over chaos. The frenzied mob that Manford had later unleashed on Zimia only reinforced how dangerous and uncontrolled the fanatics were.
A man such as Gilbertus Albans could not truly believe that savagery was preferable to civilization. The Headmaster could help bring sanity back to the Imperium … or so Draigo hoped, and that hope drove him onward.
After passing through the swamp obstacle course, he finally reached the imposing gates of the Mentat School. He scaled one of the high wooden barriers, crossed a suspended footbridge that creaked under his feet, and ducked into the connected buildings.
If nothing else, Draigo thought, the Headmaster would want to know about the flaws in his school’s defenses.
GILBERTUS ALBANS SLEPT little. The life-extension treatment he’d received long ago made his bodily processes more efficient, and thereby gave him additional hours to use his mind for important things.