Hunters of Dune - Brian Herbert [199]
“That, and other things. I also have the ability to see a no-field, though it remains invisible to all known means of detection.”
“Why would you keep this secret from us?” Sheeana was genuinely confused; she looked betrayed.
Teg scowled at her. Even Sheeana didn’t see it. “Because ever since Muad’Dib and the Tyrant, you Bene Gesserit have shown little tolerance for males with unusual abilities. Eleven Duncan gholas were killed before this one survived—and you can’t blame every one of those assassinations on Tleilaxu intrigues. The Sisterhood had plenty of complicity, both passive and active.”
He glanced at Duncan, who nodded coolly.
“Sheeana, you have an unusual talent, to control the sandworms. Duncan also has special skills. In addition to his ability to see the Enemy’s net, he is genetically designed to be a sexual imprinter more powerful than the Bene Gesserit or the Honored Matres—which is how he ensnared Murbella long ago. That was why the whores were so desperate to kill him.” Teg lifted a finger to emphasize a point. “And as the rest of our ghola children grow older and regain memories of their past lives, I suspect that some, if not all, will exhibit their own valuable skills, which will help us to survive. You will have to accept, and embrace, their anomalous skills, or else their very existence is moot.”
Duncan heaved a deep breath. “I agree, Sheeana. Don’t censure Miles for hiding his gifts. He saved us, and more than once. My own mistakes, on the other hand, nearly cost us everything.” He pondered other times when his obsession with Murbella had distracted him, slowing his reactions during an unexpected crisis. “I can no more break free of Murbella than you or any other Reverend Mother could simply stop using spice. It is an addiction, and admittedly a destructive one. It’s been nineteen years since I’ve seen her or touched her, and the wound still has not healed. Her powers of seduction, and mine, along with my perfect Mentat memories, prevent me from escaping her. Here on the Ithaca there are reminders everywhere.”
Sheeana spoke, her voice quiet and cool, without compassion. “If Murbella felt the same way back on Chapterhouse, the whores would have sensed her weakness long ago and killed her. If she is dead—”
“I hope she is alive.” Duncan rose to his feet from the pilot’s chair, searching for strength. “But the need I still feel for her affects my ability to function, and I must find a way to break free. Our survival depends on it.”
“And how will you accomplish that, if you haven’t succeeded in all these years?” Teg asked.
“I thought I had a way. I suggested it to Master Scytale. But I know it was wrong. A delusion. Chasing that illusion took me away from the navigation bridge when I was most needed. I could not have known ahead of time, but even so, my obsession almost cost us everything. Again.”
Closing his eyes, Duncan went into a Mentat trance, and forced himself back through his memories, digging deep into his sequential lifetimes. He searched for some personal handhold to grasp, and at last he found it: Loyalty.
Loyalty had always been the defining trait of his character. It was at the core of Duncan Idaho’s being. Loyalty to House Atreides—to the Old Duke who had made possible his escape from the Harkonnens, to the son Duke Leto, and to the grandson Paul Atreides, for whom Duncan had sacrificed his first life. And loyalty to the great grandson Leto II, first a smart and endearing young boy and then the God Emperor who resurrected Duncan again and again.
But he found it harder to give his loyalty now. Maybe that was why he had lost his way.
“The Tleilaxu wired a ticking time bomb into you, Duncan. You were to ensnare and destroy Bene Gesserit imprinters,” Sheeana said. “I was the real target, but Murbella triggered you first, and both of you found yourselves caught in the snare.”
Duncan wondered if that innate Tleilaxu programming was at the root of his inability to break free of his obsession. Did they make him that way intentionally? Damn the gods, I am