Her brother Griffin had been more of a romantic, and had dreamed of true love and a lasting marriage, which she thought was a waste of time. They had to rebuild a dynasty, recapture the Harkonnen place in the Landsraad League … and eliminate the Atreides.
Valya was a powerful woman now, with great influence and unlimited potential. Considering the political, psychological, and physical training that all of her Sisters underwent, they could accomplish most anything she requested. Gradually, she would turn them loose in much greater numbers, placing Sisters throughout the Imperium, insinuating them into important positions in which they could observe and guide.
Many of the most beautiful and adept Sisters could use sex for another purpose — the primary biological purpose of reproduction, used for the furtherance of the Sisterhood and its breeding program.
“Not for the Sisterhood, for your own selfish purposes,” said a voice in her mind, a resounding condemnation that rose up from the low, often imperceptible hum of Other Memory. In that mysterious realm, an endless procession of long-dead memories was carried forward in the genetics of living Sisters, but only those who had survived the agonizing transformation into Reverend Mothers could tap into such wisdom, and never at will — only when the collective memories chose to surface in her consciousness. Within those memories crowded inside her DNA were countless experiences that saturated Valya, hundreds upon hundreds of generations going far back into ancient times. She might be physically young, but she carried the weight of millennia in her mind.
Sometimes the voices advised, sometimes they quarreled, and Valya could not control them. “My purposes are the Sisterhood’s purposes,” she said now, pushing back against the voices. “A well-coordinated breeding program can build our own goals in the long term, and the proper use of seduction can establish obligations and manipulate behavior in the short term.”
The advisers in Other Memory were unpredictable and sometimes more bothersome than helpful. Valya—Mother Superior Valya as well as Valya Harkonnen—could build her own future, using the resources she had available.
The wealthiest and most powerful Landsraad nobles were primarily male, and Valya did not entirely dismiss them in the political framework of the Imperium. She even admired and respected some for their leadership abilities or specific skills and talents. But she did not need to rely on them. Her Sisters in the order had an entirely different skill set.
More voices pestered her. “You should be building the Sisterhood to become strong, make our members valued. We can be the bright pathway to improving humankind, creating the pinnacle of civilization.” The voices overlapped, sounding wistful, as if all those past lives wanted to exist vicariously in an age far more perfect than any previous generation had been born into.
“Precisely what I am doing.” Valya waved a hand in front of her face, as if the presences in Other Memory were a cloud of irritating gnats to be shooed away. “The breeding index in the hidden computers shows all the best permutations of human genetics. By training the appropriate Sisters to breed, we can obtain whatever bloodlines we need. The future is in our control.”
“You are obsessed with the breeding program, wasting the time and energy of yourself, and of your Sisters. There are other matters of great importance as well, especially the spread of our influence in all the noble houses of the Landsraad, where Sisters can advise the powerful, subtly guiding political and financial decisions.”
“I’m doing all those things for the Sisterhood, so your criticisms are not valid. Besides, I am the Mother Superior now, and the future of the order is mine to decide.”
“The Sisterhood is the Sisterhood, and it belongs to no one person.”
In her mind, Valya unfolded her far-reaching plans for the growth of the all-female organization, how she would not only place Sisters in the noble houses, but would also dispatch missionaries throughout the Imperium, to infiltrate their representatives and beliefs in harsh, primitive societies. In those remote, backward places Sisters would create and enhance superstitions like seeds, to bear fruit millennia in the future. And through it all, with her breeding volunteers the order would navigate the largely uncharted sea of human genetics to create and preserve the bloodlines that Valya wished to emphasize — such as House Harkonnen.
With the churning past lives in Other Memory cowed by the breadth of her plans, Valya said, “While I value your wisdom, you represent the past, and I must look to the future. I will listen, but I may override. I am the one to guide the Sisterhood. I will decide.”
The arguments swirled around, but they were merely a background hum of muttering, until one said, “You are Harkonnen before you are a Sister. You should leave all things Harkonnen outside, and not bring them with you here.”
“I am both the Mother Superior and a proud Harkonnen. One does not preclude the other.”
“You leave bodies in your wake.”
“Only those who deserve it. Sister Ingrid and Reverend Mother Dorotea threatened to upset Mother Superior Raquella’s breeding program by attacking the use of computers. Both needed to die; both were a danger to the best interests of the order.”
“You’ve turned Tula into a murderess, too. Is that the future you envision for House Harkonnen, and for the Sisterhood — advancement through murder? The combat exercises you have Sisters performing are really preparations for murder — assassination squads.”
“That is not the purpose of the exercises, even if killings are sometimes necessary. All strong leaders in history understand that it is necessary to take lives. It is an unfortunate historical truth, a necessity. I do not shrink from it, nor from any of my responsibilities. Like Ingrid and Dorotea, the killing of Orry Atreides had to be done — although admittedly he had to be eliminated for the benefit of House Harkonnen. I feel no shame for ordering his death. I am a Harkonnen by blood, and I will not abandon my own Great House and history.”
“We can stop you,” one of the voices said.
“We can, and we will,” said another.
Valya heard a murmuring of concurrence from within.
“We won’t sit idly by,” said a shrill voice, “not with so much at stake. Not with the entire Sisterhood at stake.”
“We can drive you insane,” said another voice, lower and more ominous than the others. “We can keep talking, endlessly, not allowing you to sleep or think.” This one had the most to say. “We can make you jump off a cliff, or kill yourself in some other way. You are good at killing people, aren’t you? Well, that expertise should prove very useful when you determine how best to do away with yourself.”
“You can’t make me do anything,” Valya said, though this assault took her by surprise, and she wasn’t sure if they could follow through on their threat. “I am my own person. I’m not your puppet. I won’t do your bidding each time your voices emerge from your deep sleep, each time you are displeased with one thing or another.”
The voices grew louder and more unpleasant, a mounting roar in her mind. If they defeated her, Valya was uncertain what would become of her, and of her hopes and dreams. As the voices grew more maddening, she wanted the cacophony to end.
Ways to kill herself flashed across her mind. Death might be a relief.
She stared at a sharp knife on a table, looked at the ornate carved handle, the sharp, gleaming blade that would cut so smoothly through her skin, into her internal organs.
Were the dead Sisters in Other Memory reading her thoughts? Manipulating them? Valya assumed they were. They continued to grow louder and more clamorous in her brain.
She considered reaching for the dagger and plunging it into her heart … or was that a suggestion they planted in her mind? Like she had driven Dorotea to kill herself?