Dune

“Does Dune still have a vote?” Fali asked. More bitterness in the question than Odrade had anticipated.

“I feel the heat. We saw the leaves on your orchards as we arrived,” Odrade said. I know what concerns you, Sister.

“We will lose part of the crop this year,” Fali said. Accusation in her words: This is your fault!

“What did you tell your delegation?” Odrade asked.

“That the desert must grow and Weather no longer can make every adjustment we need.”

Truth. The agreed response. Inadequate, as truth often was, but all they had now. Something would have to give soon. Meanwhile, more delegations and loss of crops.

“Will you take tea with us, Mother Superior?” Tsimpay, the diplomat, intervening. You see how it is escalating, Mother Superior? Fali will now go back to dealing with fruits and vegetables. Her proper place. Message delivered.

Streggi cleared her throat.

That damnable gesture will have to be suppressed! But the meaning was clear. Streggi had been put in charge of their schedule. We must be going.

“We got a late start,” Odrade said. “We stopped only to stretch our legs and see if you have problems you cannot meet on your own.”

“We can handle the gardeners, Mother Superior.”

Tsimpay’s brisk tone said much more and Odrade almost smiled.

Inspect if you wish, Mother Superior. Look anywhere. You will find Pondrille in Bene Gesserit order.

Odrade glanced at Tamalane’s bus. Some of the people already were returning to the air-conditioned interior. Tamalane stood by the door, well within earshot.

“I hear good reports of you, Tsimpay,” Odrade said. “You can do without our interference. I certainly don’t want to intrude on you with an entourage that is far too large.” This last loud enough that all would be certain to hear.

“Where will you spend the night, Mother Superior?”

“Eldio.”

“I’ve not been down there for some time but I hear the sea is much smaller.”

“Overflights confirm what you’ve heard. No need to warn them that we’re coming, Tsimpay. They already know. We had to prepare them for this invasion.”

Orchard Mistress Fali took a small step forward. “Mother Superior, if we could get just . . .”

“Tell your gardeners, Fali, that they have a choice. They can grumble and wait here until Honored Matres arrive to enslave them or they can elect to go Scattering.”

Odrade returned to her car and sat, eyes closed, until she heard the doors sealed and they were well on their way. Presently, she opened her eyes. They already were out of Pondrille and onto the glassy lane through the southern ring orchards. There was charged silence behind her. Sisters were looking deeply into questions about Mother Superior’s behavior back there. An unsatisfactory encounter. Acolytes naturally picked up the mood. Streggi looked glum.

This weather demanded notice. Words no longer could smooth over the complaints. Good days were measured by lower standards. Everyone knew the reason but changes remained a focal point. Visible. You could not complain about Mother Superior (not without good cause!) but you could grumble about the weather.

“Why did they have to make it so cold today? Why today when I have to be out in it? Quite warm when we came out but look at it now. And me without proper clothing!”

Streggi wanted to talk. Well, that’s why I brought her. But she had become almost garrulous as enforced intimacy eroded her awe of Mother Superior.

“Mother Superior, I’ve been searching in my manuals for an explanation of—”

“Beware of manuals!” How many times in her life had she heard or spoken those words? “Manuals create habits.”

Streggi had been lectured often about habits. The Bene Gesserit had them—those things the Folk preserved as “Typical of the Witches!” But patterns that allowed others to predict behavior, those must be carefully excised.

“Then why do we have manuals, Mother Superior?”

“We have them mainly to disprove them. The Coda is for novices and others in primary training.”

“And the histories?”

“Never ignore the banality of recorded histories. As a Reverend Mother, you will relearn history in each new moment.”

“Truth is an empty cup.” Very proud of her remembered aphorism.

Odrade almost smiled.

Streggi is a jewel.