Dune

“Duncan! That one is dangerous. You should never see her alone.”

“The boy was with me.”

“He never said!”

“He obeys orders.”

“All right! What happened?”

He gave her a brief account, even to describing Bellonda’s facial expressions and other reactions. (And wouldn’t the comeye watchers have great sport with that!)

Murbella was enraged. “If she harms you I will never again cooperate with any of them!”

Right on cue, my darling. Consequences! You Bene Gesserit witches should re-examine your behavior with great care.

“I’m still stinking from the practice floor,” she said. “That boy. He is a quick one. I’ve never seen a child that bright.”

He stood. “Here, I’ll scrub you.”

In the shower, he helped her out of the sweaty leotards, his hands cool on her skin. He could see how much she enjoyed his touch.

“So gentle and yet so strong,” she whispered.

Gods below! The way she looked at him, as though she could devour him.

For once, Murbella’s thoughts of Idaho were free of self-accusation. I remember no moment when I awakened and said: “I love him!” No, it had wormed its way into this deeper and deeper addiction until, accomplished fact, it must be accepted in every living moment. Like breathing . . . or heartbeats. A flaw? The Sisterhood is wrong!

“Wash my back,” she said and laughed when the shower drenched his clothing. She helped him undress and there in the shower it happened once more: this uncontrollable compulsion, this male-female mingling that drove away everything except sensation. Only afterward could she remember and say to herself: He knows every technique I do. But it was more than technique. He wants to please me! Dear Gods of Dur! How was I ever this fortunate?

She clung to his neck while he carried her out of the shower and dropped her still wet onto her bed. She pulled him down beside her and they lay there quietly, letting their energies rebuild.

Presently, she whispered: “So the Missionaria will use Sheeana.”

“Very dangerous.”

“Puts the Sisterhood in an exposed position. I thought they always tried to avoid that.”

“From my point of view, it’s ludicrous.”

“Because they intended you to control Sheeana?”

“No one can control her! Perhaps no one should.” He looked up at the comeyes. “Hey, Bell! You have more than one tiger by the tail.”

Bellonda, returning to Archives, stopped at the door of Comeye-Recording and looked a question at the Watch Mother.

“In the shower again,” the Watch Mother said. “It gets boring after a while.”

“Participation Mystique!” Bellonda said and strode off to her quarters, her mind roiling with changed perceptions that needed reorganizing. He’s a better Mentat than I am!

I’m jealous of Sheeana, damn her! And he knows it!

Participation Mystique! The orgy as energizer. Honored Matre sexual knowledge was having an effect on the Bene Gesserit akin to that primitive submersion in shared ecstasy. We take one step toward it and one step away.

Just knowing this thing exists! How repellent, how dangerous . . . and yet, how magnetic.

And Sheeana is immune! Damn her! Why did Idaho have to remind them of that just now?

Give me the judgment of balanced minds in preference to laws every time. Codes and manuals create patterned behavior. All patterned behavior tends to go unquestioned, gathering destructive momentum.

—DARWI ODRADE

Tamalane appeared in Odrade’s quarters at Eldio just before dawn, bringing news about the glazeway ahead of them.

“Drifting sand has made the road dangerous or impassable in six places beyond the sea. Very large dunes.”

Odrade had just completed her daily regimen: mini-Agony of spice followed by exercise and cold shower. Eldio’s guest sleeping cell had only one slingchair (they knew her preferences) and she had seated herself to await Streggi and the morning report.

Tamalane’s face appeared sallow in the light of two silvery glowglobes but there was no mistaking her satisfaction. If you had listened to me in the first place!

“Get us ’thopters,” Odrade said.

Tamalane left, obviously disappointed at Mother Superior’s mild reaction.

Odrade summoned Streggi. “Check alternate roads. Find out about passage around the sea’s western end.”

Streggi hurried away, almost colliding with Tamalane who was returning.

“I regret to inform you that Transport cannot give us enough ’thopters immediately. They are relocating five communities east of us. We probably can have them by noon.”

“Isn’t there an observation terminal at the edge of that desert spur south of us?” Odrade asked.

“The first obstruction is just beyond it.” Tamalane still was too pleased with herself.