Hunters of Dune - Brian Herbert [179]
A cowed-looking bonded male stood in a bright yellow tuxedo outside the immense door, wearing a dazed expression. Striding up to him, Uxtal lifted his own chin in a disdainful sniff, since he had never been sexually twisted by the Honored Matres himself. “I am here to see the Matre Superior.”
The man blinked at him and said dully, “She is occupied setting up a trap for the witches. We have been threatened by the New Sisterhood.”
Bene Gesserit witches? So that was what all the turmoil was about. Overhead in the sky, a swarm of dark ships was descending like a flock of carrion birds. Uxtal watched nervously, expecting explosives to drop onto the rooftops. Hellica certainly had a way of provoking other people.
The researcher held out the rolled message he had received. “Perhaps the Matre Superior wants me at her side during the emergency. I am her greatest living researcher, the man who will restore melange production from the axlotl tanks. My work may be the key to her negotiations.” He crossed his arms over his small chest.
Yes, that must be the real reason. If the witches from Chapterhouse counted on their spice monopoly, then Hellica would want to flaunt Uxtal’s success with the Waff ghola. She would offer him as her champion genius! Also, Navigator Edrik would surely never allow harm to come to his work. Uxtal should be safe, no matter what happened.
The tuxedoed man studied the summons, nodded sagely, and then dashed Uxtal’s preconceptions. “Ah, now I understand. This is not, in fact, from the Matre Superior. We have prepared a room. Follow me.”
“Shouldn’t you at least inform her that I am here?”
“No. I was given specific instructions on that account.”
Confused and uneasy, the little researcher was escorted down a wide corridor that featured paintings of dead Bene Gesserits in macabre poses. The bonded male indicated for him to pass through an archway and descend a stairway to a large, sunken chamber.
When Uxtal stepped down into the main room, alone, the entire chamber glowed orange as thousands of luminous eyes appeared in the floor. Terrified, he tried to retreat, but the whole staircase melted into the wall, trapping him like an unarmed slave in a combat arena. “Matre Superior? What is it you require of me?” He thought furiously, reminding himself, They need me, that is why I am still alive. They need me!
The glowing eyes in the floor went dark, plunging the sunken room into blackness. Through his panic, he became aware of a trickle of noise that entered the chamber like a stream running down the wall. Growing louder, the sound metamorphosed into a woman’s grating laughter. “You see? My eyes are always on you, little man.”
Burning light filled the room, dazzling him. Peering through his fingers, Uxtal saw Ingva standing before him completely naked. Her aged body was carved from knots of muscle and taut skin; her breasts were too small to sag. “The Matre Superior clearly does not want you. And now while she is preoccupied with the Chapterhouse witches, I will claim you for my own. Then you will really work for me. Hellica need never know, until I decide to make my move.”
“But I have done everything requested of me!” His voice cracked. “I have grown gholas, produced your orange spice drug, restored the Tleilaxu Master’s memories. Soon I will provide you with all the melange you could possibly—”
“Exactly. And that is why I must control you. Against all of my expectations, you have actually proved yourself to be of value.” She moved closer, and he felt like a mouse transfixed by a viper. “From this day forth you will be my slave, which will therefore make me indispensable. After my imprinting, no other woman will be sufficient for you—not even another Honored Matre.” Her smiling lips looked as ragged as torn paper. “Your service in past years has earned you this reward. Most males do not survive so long among us.”
Uxtal didn’t dare