Sisterhood of Dune

by Brian Herbert; Kevin J. Anderson

  Giving the latest technology and weaponry to your military forces might seem to be enough to overwhelm the enemy, but unless you bring mental firepower to the fight, it could all be for naught.

  —A GENERAL OF OLD EARTH

  Over the decades that Gilbertus Albans had operated the Mentat School, a handful of graduates stood out in his recollection. In addition to Draigo Roget, who by now had surely found a powerful benefactor among the Landsraad nobles, he remembered Korey Niv, Hermine Castro, Sheaffer Parks, Farley Denton—and a number of exceptional Sisters from the school on Rossak. All of the faces streamed across his well-ordered memory, along with anecdotes about their experiences at the school.

  And now Karee Marques had returned, one of the last pureblood Sorceresses. Because of her training in the Sisterhood, Karee already had an organized mind and precise control of her body. A perfect Mentat candidate, she had excelled here. Of the eight Sisters he had developed into Mentats, Karee was by far the best. He had spent much time discussing her with Erasmus. Gilbertus was very glad to see her back.

  Upon landing at Lampadas, Karee had dispatched a message to inform him of her imminent arrival. The ancient woman stepped off a high-speed marshboat onto one of the floating decks around the school buildings. She was more than a century old, and her white hair had thinned; he hoped that she did not notice anything untoward about his own apparent age, which had not changed in years. The Sisters were extraordinarily perceptive.…

  He met her at the dock and welcomed her warmly. She had visited him two other times in the years since her graduation, but had never brought gifts. Now he noted that she carried a small parcel.

  After asking about the two recent Sister graduates, who had already returned to Rossak, Gilbertus led her inside the airy buildings that Karee knew so well. When they reached his office, she presented the parcel to him, smiling.

  He raised his eyebrows, studying details and trying to look for clues. “Shall I have it scanned by security?”

  Sister Karee laughed, a cheerful sound. “It may have explosive implications for Mentats, but I assure you there is no direct threat.”

  From the time he’d established the school, Gilbertus had set up stringent security precautions. His primary goal was to protect the memory core of Erasmus, but his general concerns had proved well founded when eight years ago a rival mental-techniques institute issued a legal challenge against the Mentat School and undermined Gilbertus’s ability to obtain financing. He had never even heard of the rival institute before, but the competitor pursued the matter in court. After their case was dismissed as groundless, the incensed leader sent saboteurs to firebomb the Lampadas site, and the attack had resulted in the loss of two buildings and damage to others. In response, Emperor Salvador disbanded the rival school and sent its leaders to prison.

  But Gilbertus trusted Karee Marques. He worked at the knots with his fingers, but the cords securing the package were tightly tied. “It seems you’ve provided me with quite a challenge.”

  Gilbertus was also worried about the remnants of technology he kept, the decommissioned combat meks and dismantled computer minds that served as valuable instructional tools—especially after the antics of Erasmus in terrifying the staid Alys Carroll. Manford Torondo had just returned to Lampadas with a larger group of enthusiastic Butlerians than had ever been gathered before, and the legless man had requested a private meeting with Gilbertus tomorrow.

  Yes, the Mentat School needed security.

  Finally, he removed the stubborn cord and pulled open the wrapping on the parcel to reveal several glass vials filled with ruby-red liquid.

  Karee leaned forward. “It’s called sapho, a potent distillation we have developed in my chemical studies on Rossak. It comes from the barrier roots on Ecaz.” He raised his eyebrows, and she continued. “I’ve tested it on several Sisters, and all of them noticed the effects, but it is most profoundly effective among our Mentats.”

  Gilbertus held a bottle up to the light, and the rich color sparkled through the glass. “What does it do?”

  “Promotes intense concentration and focus. Orders your thoughts, sharpens your acuity. I have tried it myself. After drinking even a small dose, one of my laboratory technicians developed many avenues of research that we hadn’t considered before.”

  He decided to test the substance and ask Erasmus for his opinion. “Side effects?”

  She opened her mouth, showed him a startling redness on her tissues. “It stains skin, so be careful not to spill it on your lips, or anywhere else. No other known side effects. If you find the sapho beneficial and decide to let your Mentat students use it, I can provide you with the distillation process. It is my gift back to this great school. I’m sure you can obtain the raw materials easily from merchants on Ecaz.”

  “Thank you.” He set the vial back down without opening it. “I will try it later, after further study. I thank you for the opportunity. We must pursue every avenue to assist us in improving the human mind.”

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Gilbertus prepared for his meeting with Manford Torondo, the Mentat School’s uneasy ally.

  With a spring in her step, his student, Alys Carroll, ushered the Butlerian leader into his offices, and Gilbertus stood to receive him. Silent bearers carried Manford on a palanquin. The Butlerian leader did not pretend this was a social call. He spoke briskly. “We can all rejoice, Headmaster, for now we are able to expand our efforts and seize the full attention of the Imperium. Emperor Salvador has given our movement more than two hundred warships from the Army of Humanity.”

  “You have an admirable goal,” Gilbertus said, because he was expected to.

  “We continue to find violations, stubborn and foolish resistance. Therefore, I have decided to push the line back even farther. We must set an example. My own allies need to help us prove the point.” Manford’s eyes narrowed as he looked around the office, as if looking for any form of evil technology. Gilbertus felt a chill, aware that the robot’s memory core was hidden inside the sealed cabinet. He knew Erasmus would be eavesdropping with his spyeyes even now.

  “I want your school’s help with this, Gilbertus Albans.”

  He mastered his expression, keeping his face a calm mask. “What is it you require from me?”

  “I need Mentats who are trained as battle tacticians. With our newly acquired warships, I need Mentats to project battlefield scenarios. In a very literal sense, this will be a war for the hearts of humankind.”

  Gilbertus already knew his students were quite capable, since he and Draigo had played theoretical war games many times, yet he hesitated. “I suppose it could be done.”

  “Then it will be done. I’ll need as many as you can provide—especially my Butlerian students.”

  Alys spoke up quickly. “I will volunteer for the effort. I can adjust my training accordingly.” She looked at Manford, then at Gilbertus. “And I know many other students who are like me.”

  “I have no doubt of it,” Manford said.

  Gilbertus felt uneasy. He smiled and nodded.

  “With your help,” Manford continued, “we will lock down the unmonitored worlds, cleanse them and save them in spite of themselves. The machine lovers have their technology, but I shall have my Mentats.”

  “The mind of man is holy,” Alys intoned.

  Gilbertus forced himself not to look at the innocent-seeming cabinet where he kept Erasmus. “It may take months to prepare them adequately, but I’ll implement the new curriculum tomorrow.”

  “Do it today,” Manford said.

  Alys opened the door, and Manford’s palanquin bearers turned and carried him out of the office.

  The path to human advancement relies upon discovery, and great discoveries often entail great risks.

  —THE AZHAR BOOK

  Off balance on Rossak, surrounded by strangers, Anna Corrino had warmed to Valya’s friendship. Sensing the Princess’s jealousy over any time that Valya spent with Dorotea, by n
ecessity, Valya attempted to devote as much of her attention as possible to the Emperor’s sister.

  They spent days on end together, and Valya encouraged the young woman to confide in her, in particular about her romance with Hirondo Nef. It smacked of silly, youthful infatuation, Valya thought, but she said nothing about that aloud, only commiserated with her companion and consoled her for her miserable loneliness. As they talked, Valya smiled often to convince Anna that she was a close friend.

  One morning, Valya led the girl down to the lowest interior level of cave tunnels, although the exit passages to the murky jungle floor had been permanently sealed. Anna’s eyes were wide with fascination. “Are we supposed to be down here?” Her whisper showed eagerness to do something slightly forbidden.

  “These levels contain utility, storage, and mechanical rooms for the caverns above. It’s where a lot of the menial work is done. Back when this was a much larger city, a staff of males served as support workers, but the Reverend Mother has made the school a sanctuary for talented women … which means we must perform the work ourselves. All acolytes are expected to serve here in shifts—even the Emperor’s sister.” For herself, Valya would rather have been working with the breeding computers, but she concentrated on her obligations to Anna for the moment, which Raquella considered a priority.

  Anna’s expression fell. She was clearly disheartened by the unglamorous assignment. “Oh.”

  Valya, however, gave her a comradely pat on the back. “I’ll join you for your shift in the sewing room, repairing robes. We can work together for a little while.”

  That cheered Anna. They walked past laundry stations where green-robed acolytes manually cleaned the garments on large, fixed-frame washboards, using water piped in from subterranean aquifers. The sewing room had long tables with robes and undergarments spread out on them; four sewing machines were attached to the tables, but most acolytes used needles and thread.

  Valya pulled a white robe out of a large bin and sat in an available chair, spreading the robe on a tabletop to indicate an unraveled seam. “This is a Sorceress’s robe. Those women are a little fussy, so make sure to do a very good job.”

  “I like to sew,” Anna said. “Some of the ladies at court taught me to do old-fashioned embroidery. It seemed pointless at first, but eventually I found it calming, and my mind could wander.”

  Valya remembered what the proctor had taught her years ago, during her own first shift in the sewing room, and now she told the same story to Anna. “One of the great religious leaders of Old Earth, Mahatma Gandhi, used to mend his own garments. He was a simple man, but very complex in his thinking.”

  “Never heard of him.” Showing little interest, Anna picked up the garment and fumbled with the thread. Valya found a black robe whose pocket needed mending and sat next to the Corrino girl. Anna loved to chatter, and now she mused, “Does Reverend Mother Raquella really have the voices of all her ancestors inside her head?”

  “She has achieved a pinnacle of ability the rest of us can only dream about.”

  Anna’s eyes lit up, and she said in an excited voice, “She says every one of us can become a Reverend Mother, too, if only we can focus our thoughts and become strong enough to survive the process.”

  “It’s very dangerous,” Valya cautioned. “No one except Raquella has succeeded in the transformation. In fact, most have died from the poison.”

  “So you haven’t tried it yourself?”

  “No!” Until the process was proven, Valya would never risk her family’s future on such a capricious gamble. “I helped Sister Karee with her research to develop the next useful drug for potential candidates, but my other responsibilities for the Sisterhood are too important for me to take the risk myself.”

  “I think it would be fascinating to take the poison and hear voices.” Anna plucked at the thread, poked the needle through, and drew the stitch tight. “My mother was just a concubine, and I never really knew her … but to have her whole life in my head! I can always read about the Corrino line in the histories, but I don’t know much about my mother’s side. The voices would tell me!”

  We are cousins by blood, Valya thought. She would make sure Anna learned that, but not until a suitable time.

  Valya tried not to fixate on her goal of achieving revenge for the Harkonnen name, but it was like a chronic injury to her psyche. Griffin had sent her no progress report whatsoever, but each day she expected to receive a triumphant message declaring that he had taken care of Vorian Atreides—preferably by a slow and painful death.

  Anna chuckled. “I remember a jester at the Imperial Court who heard voices in his head. They said he was mad, and took him away.”

  Valya’s nostrils flared. “The Reverend Mother is not insane. As soon as Karee Marques discovers the right transformational chemical, others will corroborate her claims.”

  “Maybe we should do it, just you and me!” Anna said in a conspiratorial tone. “We can be the first after Raquella!”

  Valya raised her head in alarm. “Hush, don’t talk like that—you aren’t ready. I’m not even ready.” She looked around to make sure none of the acolytes had heard Anna’s comments. All of the previous volunteers had undergone the most rigid and demanding of psychological tests, yet still they failed. Anna Corrino was much too immature and unfocused.

  Oblivious to her companion’s alarm, the girl finished repairing the robe, then folded the garment and placed it on the table. She hummed, and finally mused in a flippant tone, “I was only being curious, wondering what it would be like. I’d like to have those abilities someday, that’s all.”

  Valya had pondered that question herself many times, thinking that with the added skills of a Reverend Mother, the precise bodily control and the library of historical memories, she could be a formidable force to restore House Harkonnen. But if she died while attempting the transformation, her family would suffer the loss, and the entire burden of redemption from ignominy would be on Griffin’s shoulders. She would never do that to her brother.

  The other girl chattered away as they continued mending, but Valya said nothing.

  * * *

  THAT EVENING, VALYA had an uneasy feeling as she lay in her small private chamber, unable to sleep. Many of the younger Sisters shared quarters, but with so much of the cliff city empty, advanced Sisters such as herself were given their own rooms. Now, though, she thought she should have suggested sharing quarters with the Emperor’s sister, just to cement their friendship … and permit her to watch the girl more closely.

  At supper, while Anna told stories about the Imperial Court to other acolytes, with Valya dutifully at her side, Sister Dorotea had joined them. Dorotea’s persistent concerns about Ingrid’s death and her repeated prying into rumors of computers in the Sisterhood, made her an unpleasant dinner companion. Valya pretended to be cordial, not wanting to draw the suspicions of the other woman, but it was difficult, considering what she knew. For the moment, Dorotea considered her an ally, and Valya did not want to change that useful, lulling perception.…

  Now as she tried to sleep, Valya’s thoughts continued to agitate her, not merely concerns about Dorotea’s suspicions, but worries over what Griffin was doing, as well as the responsibility of watching Anna, and the persistent question she always avoided—whether to attempt to become a Reverend Mother herself. If Valya were the first to succeed after Raquella, she could have the clout to rule the Sisterhood one day.

  From her work with Sister Karee, she knew of many untried drugs developed in her laboratory, just waiting for volunteers to attempt them. But few women had the courage to take the leap, and anyone who seemed overly eager—such as Anna Corrino—was obviously unprepared.

  For the time being, Karee Marques had traveled to Lampadas to meet with her former Mentat teacher, Gilbertus Albans. The forest pharmaceutical laboratory was empty, and even Dorotea did not spend her days there. Valya still had her access key, but rarely used it; Anna had begged her repeatedly for a secret tour of
the place, and Valya had finally obliged the day before, just to quiet the girl.

  But this evening there had been something more to Anna’s intensity. The Princess had asked repeatedly about the pharmaceutical lab and the poisons waiting to be tested, and the next candidate who might make the attempt to become a Reverend Mother. When Valya scolded her for her unrealistic questions, Anna fell silent—too quickly and too easily, it seemed now.

  With a strange knot of dread, Valya got up and searched her possessions, including the pockets of her robe. She was disturbed to discover that her laboratory key had vanished. Pulse racing, she dressed in a rush, grabbed a glowlamp, and hurried to Anna’s sleeping chamber in the acolyte section. Sadly, she was not surprised to discover the girl’s bunk empty, although her two roommates were fast asleep.

  She knew where Anna had gone, but didn’t dare raise the alarm or rouse other Sisters. This was her problem, her failing, and she had to deal with it immediately.

  With her heart pounding more from fear than exertion, Valya ran across the polymerized treetop and took the cage lift down to the jungle floor. After dark, the wilds were far more dangerous than by day, but she feared the Emperor’s sister intended to take an even greater risk than the jungle’s natural hazards. Valya broke out in a cold sweat. If anything happened to Anna, the political repercussions would ruin all of the Harkonnen family’s hopes.

  Using the glowlamp to light her way, Valya ran along the tangled path to the enormous hollowed tree, and found that the black metal door stood ajar. Breathing sharply, she hurried into the main laboratory chamber. The various workstations were empty, all the experiments shut down without Karee to supervise the sensitive work.