Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [125]
Garimi reached out and grabbed her wrist. Instinctively, Jessica tried to pull away, but was unsuccessful. The other woman’s expression hardened. “I am going to Share with you. I’m going to give you all my thoughts and memories so that you’ll know.” Garimi leaned closer. “I will dump into your brain those hundreds of generations of past lives that occurred after you committed your crime, so that you can see the full scope and consequences of what you did.” She pulled Jessica up against her.
“That’s not possible. Only Reverend Mothers can Share.” Jessica tried to scramble backward.
Garimi’s eyes were steely. “And you are a Reverend Mother—or you were. Therefore, one lives within you.” She clasped the back of Jessica’s head, grabbed her bronze hair and yanked her closer. Garimi leaned her own forehead down, and pressed it against Jessica’s. “I can make this work. I’m strong enough. Can you imagine why I’m doing it? Perhaps the grief will be enough to paralyze you!”
Jessica fought back. “Or it will . . . make . . . me . . . stronger.”
She’d wanted her own memories, yes—but had never offered to accept all of Garimi’s experiences, or those numerous ancestors who had lived through the persecutions of the God Emperor of Dune, her own grandson. All those who had survived the Famine Times, struggling to overcome their addiction to melange, which was no longer available. The horrors of those generations had left deep scars on the human psyche.
Jessica did not want that at all. Garimi insists that I caused it.
She felt something inside her head and resisted, but Garimi was stronger, forcing the Sharing upon her, pouring memories, unleashing them. Hammers pounded Jessica’s skull from the inside, strong enough to crack through bone and break out. She heard a snapping sound in the blackness, and wondered if Garimi had won. . . .
SHAKEN, JESSICA—THE real Jessica, bound concubine to Duke Leto Atreides, Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit—looked around herself with a new wonder she had never imagined possible. Though she saw only the walls of the no-ship, she recalled how good her life had been with the Duke and with their son Paul. She remembered the shell-blue sky of Caladan, the spectacular sunrises on Arrakis.
In the end, she had beaten Garimi. Now she marched out of the angry woman’s quarters, swaying and saturated with the knowledge. That flood of memories was a mixed blessing and a new burden, for she was without her beloved Duke Leto.
The sudden emptiness made her feel as if she were plunging into an endless pit. Leto, my Leto! Why couldn’t the Sisters have brought you back at the same time, like Paul and Chani? And damn you, Yueh, for taking him from me twice!
She felt profoundly alone, her heart drained and her mind left with mere memories and knowledge. Jessica was determined to find a way to make herself useful to her Sisters once more.
Returning to her quarters, she found Alia waiting for her. Possessing a sharp intelligence far beyond her years, the girl looked her over calmly and said, “Mother, I told Dr. Yueh you would have your memories back. Now he’s even more afraid of you. You could kill him with a look. I chased him and kicked him for you.”
Jessica fought back her automatic hatred of Yueh. The old Yueh. “You mustn’t do that. Especially not now.” The Traitor had been right to fear the return of her memories, even though she had already known of his crimes and forgiven him. But that was with my head, not with my heart. As she stood there, Jessica’s restored memories and emotions drove the dagger in deeper.
With a rush of emotion she found herself unable to keep from reaching out and hugging Alia fiercely. Then she looked upon her daughter for the very first time. “I am your mother again.”
A test must be defined before it can be useful. What are the parameters? What is the accuracy? Too often a test does nothing more than analyze the tester herself.
—The Bene Gesserit Acolytes’ Handbook
The death of the Hawat Face Dancer couldn’t be kept secret for long. Everyone was accounted for