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“I am not Raquella,” Valya said. “She did not consider the implications of obligating the Sisterhood to one commercial magnate, and he thinks he can pull our puppet strings. I would rather send Venport a monetary reward for past services and be done with him than be beholden to him, as he undoubtedly believes we are now. He does favors, expecting to be repaid with high interest, like a warlord.” She pondered with a deepening frown. “In his own way, Directeur Venport is as difficult as Manford Torondo. Two troubled, troublesome personalities.” She nodded somberly. “We don’t want either of those men as enemies.”

“I understand the importance of remaining neutral,” Fielle said with a respectful bow. “I will be careful when I speak privately with the Emperor.”

As the Mentat Sister prepared to depart for Salusa Secundus, Valya felt reasonably content that the moving parts were falling neatly into place. At the back of her mind, she heard the excited chatter of women in Other Memory, those long-dead Sisters who surfaced periodically in her consciousness. They were ancient and unpredictable, but they provided her with valuable, yet often contradictory, advice. She heard one voice after another.

“Reverend Mother Valya! You focus too much on your vengeance against the Atreides,” one voice said.

“It is your legacy to be greater than Vorian Atreides, the most famous hero of the Butlerian Jihad,” said another.

“The Sisterhood is more important than the enmity of your two families. Rise above it.”

Another wise-sounding voice added, “How better to be victorious than to overshadow that man’s legacy? Greatness is your destiny, Valya Harkonnen, not pettiness. Think of the Sisterhood—not mere revenge!”

The voices faded into the background noise of other ghost memories, but Valya was not convinced. Why can’t I advance the interests of the Sisterhood and my Great House at the same time?

She frowned as she walked away, preoccupied. The messages from Other Memory were always important, but she didn’t know whether to heed their advice. Her life and destiny were on a different course, and those long-dead women knew it. Attaining her revenge was not just a personal matter; it affected all of House Harkonnen. She had vowed to see that her family was reinstated to the prominence that had been stolen from it.

I will stay on course, she thought, no matter what the inner voices say.

It would be difficult, if not impossible, to write a comprehensive biography of Vorian Atreides. He has lived so long and experienced so much in so many places. He is like the wind, passing through and moving on for centuries.

—HARUK ARI, historian of the Jihad

Kepler might have seemed to be a dull world, but Vor had cherished his quiet, sheltered home here for many years. It was exactly the kind of calm, uneventful life he had once sought. He’d been happy, a different man who had retired from his past. He had married a woman he loved and raised a large family—it was as much as anyone could want.

Now, he feared that all these people were threatened because his own past had ricocheted outward. The Harkonnens might be coming for them.

When he and young Willem Atreides arrived in the main Kepler village, Vor recalled those happy times, but he didn’t want to be remembered, or noticed. He had left this place behind, had sworn a promise that he would never return. Now, no one on Kepler could know who he was, but he would send discreet warnings about Tula Harkonnen, alerting them to keep watch for her. What if Tula came here, hoping to seduce and murder another young Atreides man, just as she had done to Orry? If they knew ahead of time, they could stop her.

Nineteen-year-old Willem, tall and black-haired like Vor, looked to be his son but was actually a distant descendant, many generations removed. For their purposes, Willem called himself Vor’s nephew. The two of them were disguised as bearded, down-on-their-luck laborers, looking for work … the better to keep their eyes open for threats to the extended Atreides family on Kepler. Neither of them would ever forget what Tula looked like.

Even though this was the first time he had ever left Caladan, Willem was dead serious about their mission to verify that Vor’s other family was safe from the Harkonnens, that Tula had not come here. For now, the two men would lie low and keep watch for any danger.

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