Hunters of Dune - Brian Herbert [16]
“So? The Guild has previously flaunted its alliance with the Ixians by using primitive navigation machines. Use them instead of Navigators, if your supply of spice is inadequate.” She waited to see if he would call her bluff.
“Inferior substitutes,” Edrik insisted.
Bellonda added, “Ships in the Scattering flew without spice or Navigators.”
“Countless numbers were lost,” Edrik said.
Gorus was quick to change his voice to a conciliatory tone. “Mother Commander, the Ixian machines were mere fallback devices, to be used in emergencies only. We have never relied on them. All Guild ships must carry a functional Navigator.”
“So, when you showed off these machines, it was all a sham to drive down the price of melange? To convince the Priests of the Divided God and the Tleilaxu that you didn’t need what they were selling?” Her lips curled in disdain. During the years that Chapterhouse was hidden, even the Bene Gesserits had shunned Guildships. The Sisters held the location of their planet in their own minds. “And now that you do require spice, there is no one to sell it to you. No one but us.”
Murbella had her own deceptions. The extravagant use of melange on Chapterhouse was mainly for show, a bluff. So far, the worms in the desert belt provided only a trickle of spice, but the Bene Gesserit kept the market open by freely selling melange from their copious stockpiles, implying that it came from the newborn worms in the arid belt. Eventually, the Chapterhouse desert would indeed be as rich in spice as the sands of Rakis, but for now the Sisterhood’s ruse was necessary to increase the perception of power and limitless wealth.
And somewhere, eventually, there would be other planets producing melange. Before the long night of the Honored Matres, Mother Superior Odrade had dispersed groups of Sisters in unguided no-ships across uncharted space. They had carried sandtrout specimens and clear instructions on how to seed new desert worlds. Right now, there might already be more than a dozen alternative “Dunes” being created out there. “Remove the single point of failure,” Odrade often said then, and afterward from Other Memory. The spice bottleneck would once again be gone, and fresh sources of melange would appear throughout the galaxy.
For now, though, the iron grip of monopoly was the New Sisterhood’s.
Gorus bowed even more deeply, refusing to raise his milky eyes. “Mother Commander, we will pay whatever you wish.”
“Then you shall pay with your suffering. Have you ever heard of a Bene Gesserit punishment?” She drew a long, cool breath of air. “Your request is denied. Navigator Edrik and Administrator Gorus, you may tell your Oracle of Time and your fellow Navigators that the Guild will have more spice when . . . and if . . . I decide you warrant it.” She felt a warmth of satisfaction and guessed that it came from Odrade-within. When they were hungry enough, the Guild would be prepared to do exactly as she wished. It was all part of a great plan coming together.
Trembling, Gorus said, “Can your New Sisterhood survive without the Guild? We could bring a huge force of Heighliners and take the spice from you.”
Murbella smiled to herself, knowing his threat had no teeth. “Accepting your ludicrous assertion for a moment, would you risk destroying the spice forever? We have installed explosives, cleverly rigged to annihilate the spice sands and flood them out with our water reserves if we detect even the slightest incursion from outside. The last sandworms would die.”
“You’re as bad as Paul Atreides,” the Guildsman cried. “He made a similar threat against the Guild.”
“I take that as a compliment.” Murbella looked at the confused Navigator floating in his spice gas. The Administrator’s bald head glistened with sweat.
Now she addressed the five gray-clothed Guildsmen escorts. “Raise your eyes to me. All of you!” The escorts turned their faces upward, revealing collective fear. Gorus snapped his head up as well, and the Navigator pressed his mutated face against the transparent plaz.