Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [30]
“But if the Guildships had already departed, how could they fight?” Kiria sounded skeptical. “By throwing pebbles?”
“Jhibraith had its own in-system frigates, cargo vessels, and transport runners, none of them equipped with Holtzman engines or no-fields. As the disease cut people down, survivors raced to create a homegrown military force that might stand against Omnius. The people had to work faster than the epidemic killed them off.” She forced her lips into a cold, hard smile as she continued her report.
“Our false Sheeana was like a demon herself. I know for a fact that she went five days without sleeping, for the records show she appeared again and again at different cities and factories, rallying the citizenry, forcing them to crawl to their assembly stations if necessary. Nobody bothered with quarantines, since everyone was already infected. As people died in the factories, their bodies were dragged out to mass burial pits and huge bonfires. Others took their places at workstations.
“Even when the Enemy fleet surrounded the world, people did not pause. Then our Sheeana disappeared.” Janess looked around the table, lowered her voice. “Afterward, I learned from a coded Bene Gesserit signal that our surrogate contracted the disease, and died from it.”
Murbella was startled. “Died? How can that be? Any Reverend Mother knows how to fight off infection.”
“That requires great concentration and significant physical resources. Our Sheeana had depleted her reserves. If she’d rested for a day or two, she might have rallied her strength and driven off the disease. But she kept going and going, using up whatever energy reserves she had. Knowing Jhibraith was doomed, that the invading machine armies would destroy her if the plague did not, Sheeana never slackened in her efforts.”
Old Accadia nodded. “She had pushed the people into a fanatical fervor. No doubt she realized that if they saw her weakened and dying, they would lose their resolve. She was wise to remove herself from public view.”
Janess’s thin smile showed true admiration. “As soon as her symptoms began to manifest, Sheeana delivered one last grand speech, telling them she would now ascend to heaven. Then she isolated herself and died alone so that no one could see the horrific plague take its toll on her.”
“A marvelous and brave story for the archival histories.” Accadia pursed her withered lips. “Her sacrifice will not be forgotten.”
“If anyone still studies the histories after this,” Kiria mumbled.
“And what of the subsequent fight on Jhibraith?” Murbella asked. “Did the people defend themselves?”
“When the Enemy came, the people fought like ancient berserkers, to the last man and woman. Nothing could stop them. They met the Enemy fleet with ship after ship flown by grandfathers, teenagers, mothers, husbands, and even criminals released from detention centers. All fought and died bravely. Their sheer ferocity drove back the machines. Even with no defined military force, the people of Jhibraith destroyed more than a thousand Enemy vessels.”
Reality forced ice into Murbella’s voice. “My enthusiasm is tempered by the knowledge that even after losing a thousand vessels, the thinking machines have countless others to throw against us.”
“Still, if all planets fought like that, there might be a chance for humankind to survive,” Janess pointed out. “The species would be preserved.”
Choosing her moment to pounce, Kiria peeled crystal sheets from another set of reports, then propped an image projector in the center of the table. The chairdog shifted subtly and compliantly to accommodate her movements. “This new report shows why we can’t count on all planets. We are being attacked by a rot from within, as well as the outside fleet.”
Murbella frowned. “Where did you get this?”
“Sources.” Wearing a smug expression, the former Honored Matre activated