Painfully, Waff disentangled himself from the chair and righted it as he got to his feet. His thigh throbbed. A fraction of a meter more and she would have broken his thigh! He realized that her reaction had not been mediated by her central nervous system. As with some insects, attack could be initiated by the required muscle system. That development would have to be investigated!
His Face Dancer accomplice was listening at the open hatch. She stepped aside to allow the entry of another Face Dancer in the guise of an Ixian guard.
Waff massaged his injured thigh while his Face Dancers disrobed the dead women. The one who copied the Ixian put her head to that of the dead old Honored Matre. Things moved swiftly after that. Presently, there was no Ixian guard, only a faithful copy of the old Honored Matre and a younger Honored Matre attendant. Another pseudo-Ixian entered and copied the younger Honored Matre. Soon, there were only ashes where dead flesh had been. A new Honored Matre scooped the ashes into a bag and concealed it beneath her robe.
Waff made a careful examination of the room. The consequences of discovery made him shudder. Such arrogance as he had seen here came from obviously awesome powers. Those powers must be probed. He detained the Face Dancer who had copied the old one.
“You have printed her?”
“Yes, Master. Her waking memories were still alive when I copied.”
“Transfer to her.” He gestured to the one who had been an Ixian guard. They touched foreheads for a few heartbeats then parted.
“It is done,” said the older one.
“How many other copies of these Honored Matres have we made?”
“Four, Master.”
“None of them detected?”
“None, Master.”
“Those four must return to the heartland of these Honored Matres and learn all there is to know about them. One of those four must get back to us with what is learned.”
“That is impossible, Master.”
“Impossible?”
“They have cut themselves off from their source. This is their way, Master. They are a new cell and have established themselves on Gammu.”
“But surely we could . . .”
“Your pardon, Master. The coordinates of their place in the Scattering were contained only in a no-ship’s workings and have been erased.”
“Their tracks are completely covered?” There was dismay in his voice.
“Completely, Master.”
“They will not learn from us, Master.”
“What talents have they developed? What powers? Quickly!”
“They are what you would expect from a Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit but without the melange memories.”
“You’re sure?”
“There is no hint of it. As you know, Master, we—”
“Yes, yes. I know.” He waved her to silence. “But the old one was so arrogant, so . . .”
“Your pardon, Master, but time presses. These Honored Matres have perfected the pleasures of sex far beyond that developed by any others.”
“So it’s true what our informants said.”
“They went back to the primitive Tantric and developed their own ways of sexual stimulation, Master. Through this, they accept the worship of their followers.”
“Worship.” He breathed the word. “Are they superior to the Breeding Mistresses of the Sisterhood?”
“The Honored Matres believe so, Master. Shall we demon—”
“No!” Waff dropped his elfin mask at this discovery and assumed the expression of a dominant Master. The Face Dancers nodded their heads in submission. A look of glee came over Waff’s face. The returned Tleilaxu of the Scattering reported truthfully! By a simple mind-print he had confirmed this new weapon of his people!
“What are your orders, Master?” the old one asked.
Waff resumed his elfin mask. “We will explore these matters only when we have returned to the Tleilaxu core at Bandalong. Meanwhile, even a Master does not give orders to an Honored Matre. You are
“Of course, Master. Shall I now convey your orders to the others outside?”
“Yes, and these are my orders: This no-ship must never return to Gammu. It must vanish without a trace. No survivors.”
“It will be done, Master.”
Technology, in common with many other activities, tends toward avoidance of risks by investors. Uncertainty is ruled out if possible. Capital investment follows this rule, since people generally prefer the predictable. Few recognize how destructive this can be, how it imposes severe limits on variability and thus makes whole populations fatally vulnerable to the shocking ways our universe can throw the dice.
—ASSESSMENT OF IX, BENE GESSERIT ARCHIVES
On the morning after that initial test in the desert, Sheeana awoke in the priestly complex to find her bed surrounded by white-robed people.
“She’s awake,” a priestess said.
