Hunters of Dune - Brian Herbert [64]
“Legends are just that, sometimes fraught with errors, sometimes distorted intentionally. As an infant, Paul Atreides was christened on Caladan, and he considered that planet his home, until his arrival on Dune. You Bene Gesserits wrote that history.”
“And now you plan to rewrite it with what you assure us is the truth, with your precious Paul and other ghola children from the past?”
“Not rewrite it. We intend to re-create it.”
Clearly dissatisfied, but seeing that any further argument would simply carry them in circles, Garimi waited to see which direction Duncan would walk. Then she turned the opposite way and stalked off.
The unknown can be a terrible thing, and is often made more monstrous by human imagination. The real Enemy, however, may be far worse than any we can possibly imagine. Do not let your guard down.
—MOTHER SUPERIOR DARWI ODRADE
T
he fat Reverend Mother and the feral Honored Matre stood stiffly together, as far apart as they thought they could without being too obvious. Even an observer without specialized Bene Gesserit training would have noticed their dislike for each other.
“You two will have to work together.” Murbella’s voice allowed for no argument. “I have decided that we must devote more of our efforts to the desert belt. Never forget that melange is the key. We will call in outside researchers to set up observation bases out in the deepest worm territories. Maybe we can find a few old experts who actually visited Rakis before it was destroyed.”
“Our melange stockpiles are still significant,” Bellonda pointed out.
“And the sandtrout seem to be destroying all fertile land,” Doria added. “The flow of spice is secure.”
“Nothing is ever secure! Complacency can be a worse threat than the rebel Honored Matres themselves—or the Outside Enemy,” Murbella said. “To oppose either adversary, we must have the absolute cooperation of the Spacing Guild. We need their immense ships, fully armed to transport us to and from anywhere we choose. We can use the Guild and CHOAM as carrot and stick to force planets, governments, and independent military systems to follow our lead. For that, our most effective tool is melange. With no other source, they will have to come to us for spice.”
“Or they can fly other ships from the Scattering,” Bellonda said.
Doria snorted. “The Guild would never stoop to that.”
With a sideways glance at her rival and partner, Bellonda added, “Because we only let the Guild obtain small amounts of spice from us, they also pay exorbitant prices for black-market melange from other stockpiles. Once we force them to exhaust their spice supplies, we will bring the Guild to its knees, and they will do whatever we ask of them.”
Bellonda nodded. “The Guild is probably desperate already. When Administrator Gorus and the Navigator Edrik came here three years ago, they were nearly frantic. We have kept them on a tight leash since then.”
“They could well be on the verge of irrational action,” Doria warned.
“The spice must flow, but only on our terms.” Murbella turned to the women. “I have a new assignment for you two. When we offer our generous forgiveness in exchange for Guild cooperation in the coming war, we’ll need to be extravagant in our payment. Doria and Bellonda, I place you in charge of managing the arid zone, the spice extraction process, and the new sandworms.”
Bellonda looked shocked. “Mother Commander, could I not serve you better here, as your advisor—and guardian?”
“No, you could not. As a Mentat you have shown great skill in handling details, and Doria has the edge to push where it is needed. Make sure our sandworms produce spice in the quantities we—and the Guild—will need. From now on, the deserts of Chapterhouse are your responsibility.”
AFTER THE UNLIKELY pair left for the desert, Murbella went to see the old Archives Mother Accadia, still seeking essential answers.
In a large and airy wing of Chapterhouse Keep, the ancient librarian had arranged numerous tables and booths where thousands of Reverend Mothers toiled. Under normal circumstances,