The advisers in Other Memory were unpredictable and sometimes more bothersome than helpful. Valya—
The wealthiest and most powerful Landsraad nobles were primarily male, and Valya did not entirely dismiss them in the political framework of the Imperium. She even admired and respected some for their leadership abilities or specific skills and talents. But she did not need to rely on them. Her Sisters in the order had an entirely different skill set.
More voices pestered her. “You should be building the Sisterhood to become strong, make our members valued. We can be the bright pathway to improving humankind, creating the pinnacle of civilization.” The voices overlapped, sounding wistful, as if all those past lives wanted to exist vicariously in an age far more perfect than any previous generation had been born into.
“Precisely what I am doing.” Valya waved a hand in front of her face, as if the presences in Other Memory were a cloud of irritating gnats to be shooed away. “The breeding index in the hidden computers shows all the best permutations of human genetics. By training the appropriate Sisters to breed, we can obtain whatever bloodlines we need. The future is in our control.”
“You are obsessed with the breeding program, wasting the time and energy of yourself, and of your Sisters. There are other matters of great importance as well, especially the spread of our influence in all the noble houses of the Landsraad, where Sisters can advise the powerful, subtly guiding political and financial decisions.”
“I’m doing all those things for the Sisterhood, so your criticisms are not valid. Besides, I am the Mother Superior now, and the future of the order is mine to decide.”
“The Sisterhood is the Sisterhood, and it belongs to no one person.”
In her mind, Valya unfolded her far-reaching plans for the growth of the all-female organization, how she would not only place Sisters in the noble houses, but would also dispatch missionaries throughout the Imperium, to infiltrate their representatives and beliefs in harsh, primitive societies. In those remote, backward places Sisters would create and enhance superstitions like seeds, to bear fruit millennia in the future. And through it all, with her breeding volunteers the order would navigate the largely uncharted sea of human genetics to create and preserve the bloodlines that Valya wished to emphasize—such as House Harkonnen.
With the churning past lives in Other Memory cowed by the breadth of her plans, Valya said, “While I value your wisdom, you represent the past, and I must look to the future. I will listen, but I may override.
The arguments swirled around, but they were merely a background hum of muttering, until one said, “You are Harkonnen before you are a Sister. You should leave all things Harkonnen outside, and not bring them with you here.”
“I am both the Mother Superior and a proud Harkonnen. One does not preclude the other.”
“You leave bodies in your wake.”
“Only those who deserve it. Sister Ingrid and Reverend Mother Dorotea threatened to upset Mother Superior Raquella’s breeding program by attacking the use of computers. Both needed to die; both were a danger to the best interests of the order.”
“You’ve turned Tula into a murderess, too. Is that the future you envision for House Harkonnen, and for the Sisterhood—advancement through murder? The combat exercises you have Sisters performing are really preparations for murder—assassination squads.”
“That is not the purpose of the exercises, even if killings are sometimes necessary. All strong leaders in history understand that it is necessary to take lives. It is an unfortunate historical truth, a necessity. I do not shrink from it, nor from any of my responsibilities. Like Ingrid and Dorotea, the killing of Orry Atreides had to be done—although admittedly he had to be eliminated for the benefit of House Harkonnen. I feel no shame for ordering his death. I am a Harkonnen by blood, and I will not abandon my own Great House and history.”
“We can stop you,” one of the voices said.
“We can, and we will,” said another.
Valya heard a murmuring of concurrence from within.
“We won’t sit idly by,” said a shrill voice, “not with so much at stake. Not with the entire Sisterhood at stake.”
“We can drive you insane,” said another voice, lower and more ominous than the others. “We can keep talking, endlessly, not allowing you to sleep or think.” This one had the most to say. “We can make you jump off a cliff, or kill yourself in some other way. You are good at killing people, aren’t you? Well, that expertise should prove very useful when you determine how best to do away with yourself.”