Hunters of Dune - Brian Herbert [140]
For years, Chapterhouse itself had been camouflaged by a moat of no-ships, enough to mask the planet from a cursory, distant search, but that shield had been sketchy and imperfect—forcing Duncan to remain aboard the landed no-ship. This world, though, was completely surrounded by an all-encompassing no-field.
As Teg guided the vessel forward, they traversed the unmarked ring of satellites that generated the overlapping no-field. The orbital sensors were blinded for an instant, but the Ithaca’s similar masking technology allowed it to pass through.
Behind them, as if their passage had disrupted a delicate balance, the planetary no-field flickered again, winked in and out of existence, and then restored itself.
“Such an expenditure of energy would have bankrupted entire empires,” Sheeana said. “No one would do it on a whim. Somebody certainly wanted to stay hidden down there. We must be cautious.”
We can learn much from those who came before us. The most valuable legacy our predecessors can leave us is the knowledge of how to avoid the same deadly mistakes.
—REVEREND MOTHER SHEEANA,
Ithaca logs
T
he powerful civilization that had once thrived on the no-planet was dead now. Everything was dead.
As the Ithaca circled the hidden planet in a tight orbit, the bristling quills of scanners picked out silent cities, the distinctive remnants of industry, abandoned agricultural settlements, empty living complexes. Every outside transmission band was utterly still, without so much as the faint static of repeating weather satellites or distress beacons.
“The inhabitants went to great lengths to hide,” Teg said. “But it looks as if they were found after all.”
Sheeana studied the readings. In light of the mystery, she had summoned several other Sisters to help her study the data and develop conclusions. “The ecosystem seems to be undamaged. The minimal levels of pollutants and residue in the air suggest that this place has been uninhabited for a century or more, depending on its prior level of industrialization. The prairies and forests are untouched. Everything looks perfectly normal, almost pristine.”
Garimi’s frown etched deep creases around her lips and on her forehead. “In other words, this was not caused in the same manner as the whores turned Rakis into a charred ball.”
“No, only the people are gone.” Duncan shook his head, studying the information as it flowed across the screens, including city layouts and atmospheric details. “Either they left, or they perished. Do you think they were hiding from the Outside Enemy, so desperate to remain unseen that they covered their entire world in a no-field?”
“It is an Honored Matre world?” Garimi asked.
Sheeana reached a decision. “This place could hold a key to what we are running from. We have to learn what we can. If Honored Matres lived down there, what drove them away, or what killed them?”
Garimi held up one finger. “The whores came to the Bene Gesserit demanding to know how we control our bodies. They were frantic to understand how Reverend Mothers can manipulate our immune functions, cell by cell. Of course!”
“Speak clearly, Garimi. What do you mean?” Teg’s voice was abrupt, the hardened battle commander.
She turned a sour look on him. “You are a Mentat. Make a prime projection!”
Teg did not bristle at the scolding. Instead, his eyes became glazed for just a moment, and then his expression returned. “Ahh. If the whores wanted to learn how to control immune responses, then perhaps the Enemy attacked them using a biological agent. The whores did not have the skills or the medical science to make themselves impervious, therefore they wanted to learn the secrets of Bene Gesserit immunity, even if they had to obliterate planets to do so. They were desperate.”
“They were terrified of the Enemy’s plagues,” Sheeana said.
Duncan leaned forward to stare at the peaceful yet ominous image of the tomb