BOOK ONE - CHAPTER TEN
 

The earliest experiments of the Sisterhood with awareness spectrum narcotics are well-documented in our archives, and with good reason: they serve to remind us of the necessity of enforcing a strict policy wherever our influence extends to eradicate Abomination. Defining this affliction as unholy in any and all manifestations of the Panoplia Propheticus and as a major destructive force in our political activities allows us to maintain complete control over any potential Kwisatz Haderach.
-Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam-
 

For the first time in years, Bene Gesserit Proctor Garimi was afraid - or, more accurately, positively terrified of what might go wrong if the impending confrontation would spiral out of control. A coalition of members from the Rabbi's group and malcontent Bene Gesserit sisters had finally worn her down over the past few days, forcing her to intervene in a very delicate but potentially disastrous development without having been able to gather sufficient information.

Flanked by Rebecca, the Jewish Bene Gesserit adept who had accepted the responsibility of Other Memory independently, without intervention or assistance of the Sisterhood - a wild Reverend Mother -, and Shaj, a Proctor, Garimi entered the relatively small cargo hold she had arranged to meet Idaho in to "discuss matters of grave importance", as she had called it. He was already present, casually leaning against a large cargo crate. From his facial expression Garimi could see that whatever fear he might have had once of any Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother had completely disappeared. Garimi still believed her training gave her a definite edge in any direct physical confrontation, but she was careful not to underestimate the power despair or - worse still - lunacy could provide him with.

Considering the temper and pride of the Duncans, this Mentat in particular, this could turn out to be a very messy affair, Garimi feared.

"You requested an audience?", Duncan asked tauntingly.

"I would like to discuss certain matters with you," Garimi began.

"That much was already obvious," Duncan interrupted. Then harshly: "State your business, and don't waste time with padding, build-ups and amateuristic attempts at manipulation."

Garimi was taken aback by his ferocity and needed a moment to recover, but decided to reciprocate by being brutally honest, instead of slowly easing into her demands as she had originally intended. "You will break off your unholy alliance with the Tleilaxu Master," she said, voicing her suspicions.

"Why?"

The casual air with which Duncan had both confirmed her suspicions and made it obvious he didn't care what she thought of what he did surprised her. The fact she had been playing catch-up since the start of the conversation instead of dominating it as she was used to bothered her - no, genuinely annoyed her. She lost her composure, and let some of the anger she had kept hidden so well for the sake of the sisters who looked up to her shine through in her next comment. "We made you what you are! You cannot betray us like this!"

An evil-looking grin appeared on Duncan's face. "You locked me inside this damned ship for ten years! That in itself is more than enough reason to defy you. Now you're telling me I also need your permission to blame you for being dragged from death into this accursed life time and time again, kicking and screaming I might add, to perform tricks at the Sisterhood's command?"

"Why did you lock us out of such a large part of the ship? Scytale, Sheeana and the worm are in there, as well as the components needed to make an axolotl tank. What are you doing there?"

"Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

Duncan stepped aside, and willed the heavy cargo crate he had been leaning against to slide across the floor towards Garimi and her two escorts. Garimi and Rebecca managed to jump aside, but Shaj was driven into a corner by the crate, and was unable to escape. Protrusions appeared on the walls near them, looking like metal tentacles that attempted to grab them. The swiftness their training had outfitted them with saved them, allowing them to exit the hold. As he ran past the trapped Proctor in pursuit of the two escapees, Duncan casually said: "Stay there."

Several levels down, Garimi and Rebecca entered the hold. Their allies - the Bene Gesserit and the Jews - were waiting, hoping the meeting with Idaho would not result in the disaster many of them were expecting.

"We must leave the ship!", Garimi shouted, and added "Now!" when she noticed some were not getting up quickly enough. She ushered them towards the passageway that led outside. Looking over her shoulder, she could see Duncan entering the hold, not running, his almost relaxed pace adding to the danger she felt he radiated.

The Rabbi and most of his people had already left the ship - several Bene Gesserit, including Garimi, were still inside. Beneath them, the plasteel plates that formed the floor of the hold started to move and turned to liquid, swallowing two Proctors and an acolyte up to their knees, and then solidifying again, trapping them there. Garimi realised she could not help them anymore and fled, the last of her group to escape the ship. Behind her, the thick plasteel door closed with a loud bang.

What allowed him to manipulate matter like that?, Garimi wondered. We knew the newer gholas like Duncan and Teg have proven able to do previously-unheard-of things, but this is ... I don't have words for it.

Teg... We need to get to him first. His speed and knowledge makes him an extremely valuable ally, but he has been close to the Duncan for a long time, and the similarities in their origin as well as their inhuman abilities might forge an even stronger bond.

Garimi could not suppress a shudder as she thought of what might happen if Teg failed to choose her side. In our latest conversation he did express concern over what Idaho and Sheeana were planning, but that was several days ago - the confusion he tried so hard to hide from me might have already driven him to another viewpoint. I know Sheeana spoke to him shortly before I did, and he was very reluctant to discuss that meeting with me... What happened between those two?

**********

I wish I could leave everything behind and go live in that cottage, Sheeana thought. It looks as if life would be much easier there.

Sheeana sat in a chair in her private quarters, the Van Gogh painting she had taken from Chapter House hanging on the wall facing her.

There is such serenity in that image. It is often said that in the past everything was better, and this remnant from an earlier time, this relic that some might say has become obsolete in this time - a rudiment -, shows us exactly that in the most powerful manner possible.

She tilted her head, and tried to look at the painting in a different way, as good works of art customarily allow the spectator to do. New combinations of impressions and thoughts made her see the flipside of the artist's expression. However, there's another aspect to this painting. It depicts a menacing chaos threatening to break free, those wild, erratic brush strokes covering up the serenity of the depicted scene with thick, multicoloured scar tissue.

This avenue of thought evoked faint feelings of fear in her - a source of reassurance was revealed to be yet another catalyst for the developments that filled her life with so much pain. She forced her eyes to let go of the painting and closed them for a brief moment. She opened them again and stared into nothingness.

Sheeana noticed a stirring in the periphery of her perception - an almost undetectable sound, the visual fluctuations of a shadow pulling away, the vague agitation of all senses simultaneously yet none of them specifically, by the presence of someone - and rose from her reverie. Before she could get up to see what or who was there, Duncan entered her room.

**********

In the room next to the hold the worm was being kept five glass basins stood, half-filled with a clear, green-blue fluid, the composition of which Scytale had kept secret from Idaho, and was still conscientiously guarding against the ghola's attempts at learning more. All Idaho knew one of the components was a substance secreted by the worm.

"Did you have worms on Tleilax to extract this substance from?", Idaho asked while Scytale was connecting odd-looking devices to each other.

Telling him what he wants to know will not jeopardise my mission, Scytale thought. He is still a ghola, and under my control.

"Yes - at first. They were paid for dearly - smugglers on Arrakis and the Guild helped us. Later axolotl tank technology progressed to a point where we could synthesize the substance ourselves, without the intervention of sandworms."

"Were you able to synthesize the Water of Life?"

What a sharp mind this little ghola has!, Scytale thought. The time he spent amongst the witches was not completely wasted, it seems. Perhaps we should redefine what the acceptable levels of powindah contamination can be.

"Yes. It took several centuries of experimenting, but eventually we found a way."

"Did you create any Tleilaxu Reverend Mothers?"

"The Bene Gesserit witches are powindah!"

"I meant: did you manage to awaken Other Memory in anyone?"

"You know what Tleilaxu women look like," Scytale said, indicating the tanks, "so we would not have been able to access those memories in any way that would have been useful to us. We did try, but the products of the experimental samples were without exception gruesomely diseased and malformed, and the tanks themselves would not respond to our commands properly."

"Did any Tleilaxu males ever attempt the Spice Agony?"

"Yes, but they all died."

"Did you try?"

Scytale was taken aback by the audacity of the question, and silence fell while he debated whether or not to answer this question. "Yes. I had observed Paul Atreides and thought I could do what he had done."

The Tleilaxu Master tried to recall what had happened - memory extraction from a corpse and transferring that data to a new body was already possible at that time, but unlike the ability bred into recent Face Dancers it was a complex process involving many specialised machines. It didn't matter: he knew he could be resurrected if the Spice Poison killed him.

He remembered extremely painful visions of death and destruction, being haunted by voices from the past and mechanical horrors so overpowering he had killed himself before the pain could do it for him. The voice of Idaho brought him back to the present.

"How can we be sure that in Sheeana's case the same does not happen?"

"She is a Reverend Mother - she has already conquered the Spice Poison."

"Will her ... products not be deformed?"

"Some of them will, but for a very different reason."

"What do you mean?"

"You will learn soon enough. Go get her."

Idaho walked back to where he had left Sheeana's unconscious form, and carried it in, remembering how he had managed to overpower her. She had been weak, mentally, so it hadn't been difficult to use a combination of an Honoured Matre modification of a Bindu technique he had learnt from Murbella a lifetime ago and his new abilities to render her unconscious. Something had happened to make her more susceptable to this type of influence - her immunity to imprinting and related techniques hadn't been able to save her this time.

"Why is it that we need to use her for this?", Duncan asked.

"She is the one whose coming was foretold by the Prophet. She is Alyama, the Blessed One. She is blessed, for inside of her will grow a most important product." He walked over to an elevated platform. "Put her down here."

He opened a case standing next to the platform, and took out a small lasgun. He activated it, a bright energy lance of about a quarter of a meter protruding from it like a blade of fire. With four quick movements, he cut off her arms and legs, the lasgun beam instantly searing up the wounds.

"Those would only get in the way," the Tleilaxu explained.

For a moment, Idaho wondered why it was this gruesome sight did not startle him, but this sensation disappeared quickly. "Your people programmed certain memories and abilities into me. How does that work?"

"This device," Scytale said, holding up a small, elongated object, "enables me to program her to modify her product through a mental link. The technique is similar to the one Face Dancers use to make memory prints."

He pressed a button on the object, and a long needle flicked out, extending to twice the length of the device. He pressed the needle into Sheeana's skull through her right temple. Seeing Idaho's startled expression, he said: "There are many things we Tleilaxu can do that no one knows about."

Idaho helped Scytale carry Sheeana to her tank, and they lowered her into the fluid. While Scytale continued to work on Sheeana, attaching tubes that would inject nourishment and other substances into her body, Idaho remembered his own birth from a similar "tank" - the experience so early in his life that nothing else from that period survived in his memory, but so harrowing and overwhelmingly alien that the image had been engraved in his mind, magnified by similar memories from the many other ghola lifetimes accessible to him.

How will she experience all this?, Duncan wondered. Will she feel any pain? Will she even be aware of what we are doing to her?

However, his concern for her safety did now last - a subtle, subliminal force gently pushed these thoughts from his consciousness. A short while later, he had forgotten all about his misgivings, and returned to helping Scytale with the preparations of the other axolotl tanks.

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