“The Guild will not move against us or oppose us because we are their only secure source of melange,” Waff said.
“Then what of these Honored Matres returned from the Scattering?” Mirlat demanded.
“We will deal with them when it is required of us,” Waff said. “And we will be helped by the descendants of our own people who voluntarily went out into the Scattering.”
“The time does appear opportune,” one of the other councillors murmured.
It was Torg the Younger who had spoken, Waff observed. Good. There was a vote secured.
“The Bene Gesserit!” Mirlat snapped.
“I think the Honored Matres will remove the witches from our path,” Waff said. “Already they growl against each other like animals in the fighting pit.”
“What if the author of that manifesto is identified?” Mirlat demanded. “What then?”
Several heads nodded among the councillors. Waff marked them: people to be won over.
“It is dangerous to be called Atreides in this age,” he said.
“Except perhaps on Gammu,” Mirlat said. “And the name Atreides has been signed to that document!”
Waff recounted this CHOAM reaction now.
“This CHOAM hireling, damn his Godless soul, is right,” Mirlat insisted. “The document’s insidious.”
“In the beginning was the word and the word was God.”
“Directly from the Orange Catholic Bible,” Mirlat said. Once more, heads nodded in worried agreement.
Waff showed the points of his canines in a brief smile. “Do you suggest that there are those among the powindah who suspect the existence of the Shariat and the Masheikhs?”
It felt good to speak these words openly, reminding his listeners that only here among the innermost Tleilaxu were the old words and the old language preserved without change. Did Mirlat or any of the others fear that Atreides words could subvert the Shariat?
Waff posed this question, too, and saw the worried frowns.
“Is there one among you,” Waff asked, “who believes that a single powindah knows how we use the language of God?”
Waff said these things to his councillors, adding: “The time for action has come.”
When no one spoke disagreement, Waff said: “This manifesto has a single author. Every analysis agrees. Mirlat?”
“Written by one person and that person a true Atreides, no doubt of it,” Mirlat agreed.
“All at the powindah conference affirmed this,” Waff said. “Even a third-stage Guild steersman agrees.”
“But that one person has produced a thing that excites violent reactions among diverse peoples,” Mirlat argued.
“Have we ever questioned the Atreides talent for disruption?” Waff asked. “When the powindah showed me this document I knew God had sent us a signal.”
“Do the witches still deny authorship?” Torg the Younger asked.
“Every powindah religion is called into question by this manifesto,” Waff said. “Every faith except ours is left hanging in limbo.”
“Exactly the problem!” Mirlat pounced.
“But only we know this,” Waff said. “Who else even suspects the existence of the Shariat?”
“The Guild,” Mirlat said.
“They have never spoken of it and they never will. They know what our response would be.”
Waff lifted the sheaf of papers from his lap and again read aloud:
“Forces that we cannot understand permeate our universe. We see the shadows of those forces when they are projected upon a screen available to our senses, but understand them we do not.”
“The Atreides who wrote that knows of the Shariat,” Mirlat muttered.
Waff continued reading as though there had been no interruption:
“Understanding requires words. Some things cannot be reduced to words. There are things that can only be experienced wordlessly.”