Yueh found a match fairly quickly, and when he learned the answer, he physically recoiled. "Impossible! They would not dare!" But in his heart, as he remembered the torment Sheeana had used to awaken his memories, he didn't doubt the witches would do anything. Now he understood why Sheeana refused to reveal the identity of the ghola.
Even so, the choice itself made no sense. The Sisters had numerous other options. Better ones. Why not try again to bring back Gurney Halleck? Or Ghanima, as a companion for poor Leto II? For what purpose could they possibly need--he shuddered--Piter de Vries?
Because Bene Gesserits liked to play with dangerous toys, resurrecting people to serve as chess pieces in their great game. He knew the sort of questions they would pursue, just to satisfy their infernal curiosity. Was the genetic makeup of Piter de Vries corrupt, or was he evil because he had been Twisted by the Tleilaxu? Who better to think like an Enemy than a Harkonnen? Was there any evidence to suggest that a new Piter de Vries would turn out evil, as before, if he were not exposed to the corruptive influence of the Baron?
He could picture Sheeana giving him a condescending frown. "We need another Mentat. You, of all people, Wellington Yueh, should not hold the past crimes of a ghola's old life against him."
He still did not believe it. He squeezed his eyes shut, and even the fake diamond tattoo on his forehead seemed to burn. He remembered being forced to watch Wanna endure her endless torture at the hands of the vile Mentat. And the man thrusting a knife deep into his back, grinding the blade. Piter de Vries!
He still felt the sharp steel ripping into his organs, a mortal wound, one of the very last memories of his first life. Piter's laugh reverberated, along with the screams of Wanna in the agony chamber . . . and Yueh unable to help her.
Piter de Vries?
Yueh reeled, barely able to absorb the information. He could not allow a monster like that to be reborn.
DAYS LATER, YUEH entered the medical center, and walked toward the single pregnant tank. This was just an innocent baby at the moment. Even if it was de Vries, this ghola child had committed none of the crimes of the original.
But he will! He is twisted, evil, malicious. The Sisters would raise him and insist on triggering his memories. Then he would be back!
Yet Yueh was trapped by his own previous logic. If the Piter ghola--in fact, all the gholas--were unable to escape the chains of fate, wouldn't it be the same for Yueh? Was Yueh therefore destined to betray them all? Would he be doomed to make another terrible mistake--or must he sacrifice everything to prevent one? He had thought about consulting Jessica, but he decided against it. This was his burden, his decision.
Using the Rabbi's sample, he had run the genetic scan privately and seen the result. He had to act alone. Though he was himself a Suk doctor, trained and conditioned to save lives, sometimes the death of one monster was required to save many innocents.
Piter de Vries!
Indirectly he had caused de Vries's death the first time around, by giving the poison-gas tooth to Duke Leto, who bit down on it in the Mentat's presence. Yueh had failed in so many ways, caused so much pain and disappointment. Even Wanna would have hated what he'd done to himself, and to the Atreides.
Now, though--a second life, a second chance. Wellington Yueh could make things right. Each of the resurrected ghola children supposedly had a great purpose. He was convinced that this was his.
The handmade black diamond staining his brow added to the burden as Yueh wrestled with his decision. In his restored memories, he saw with clarity when he had become an actual Suk doctor, when he passed through an entire Inner School regimen of Imperial Conditioning and took the formal oath. " 'A Suk shall not take human life.' "
And yet, Yueh's oath had been subverted, thanks to the Harkonnens. Thanks to Piter de Vries. What irony that the breaking of his Suk pledge now allowed him to destroy the very man who had broken that conditioning! He had the freedom to kill.
Yueh already had the instrument of death in the pocket of his smock. His plans were in place, and he would take no chances. Since surveillance imagers still monitored the med center and its axlotl tanks, Yueh could not do this in secret, as the real saboteur had. Once he acted, everyone aboard the Ithaca would know who had killed the de Vries ghola. And he would face the consequences.
Perspiration formed on his brow as he crossed the room. With the sharp-eyed Bene Gesserit guard watching him, he could not delay, or the damned witches might detect his uneasiness, his nervous movements. Bringing out his device, Yueh turned a dial as if to recalibrate it, then inserted its probe into the pregnant tank, as he would do in taking a biological sample. Thus he easily administered a lethal dosage of fast-acting poison. So far, no one suspected a thing.
There. Done. Fittingly, de Vries had been an expert in cleverly concocted poisons. And no antidote was available for this toxin; Yueh had seen to that. In a matter of hours, the unborn de Vries would shrivel up and die. Along with the tank, unfortunately. But that could not be avoided. A necessary sacrifice.
Leaving the chamber, he smiled grimly and quickened his pace. By tomorrow, there would be no hiding. Thufir Hawat and Bashar Teg would review surveillance holos and interview the guards. They would know who had done it. Unlike the real saboteur, he could not delete the images. He would be caught.
Despite this knowledge, Yueh was content with himself for the first time since his reawakening. At last, he savored the elusive taste of redemption.
Send a fact-finding team to Buzzell to learn why soostone exports have dropped off so drastically. This lack of supply, coupled with the precipitous decline in melange production following the Chapterhouse plague, is highly suspicious, especially in light of the fact that the witches are involved in both enterprises. We have learned over the millennia not to take them at their word.
--CHOAM directive
Now that he possessed the sample of ultraspice, Khrone knew exactly what lived in the fertile seas of Buzzell. The Navigators certainly had an unexpected scheme there, releasing a new breed of melange-producing worms. He needed to go there and see for himself. The leader of the Face Dancer myriad cared little for the loss of soostone revenue, but in his guise as a CHOAM functionary, he had to feign extreme displeasure.
"Monsters?" Standing on the main dock, he gave the woman Corysta a withering glare. "Sea serpents? Can you think of no better excuses for your incompetence?"
Khrone scowled at the sea and gathered his dark business robes about his shoulders. Out there in the water, wary Phibians swam, diving to harvest the gems from beds of cholisters, many of which had already been devoured by the hungry and growing seaworms. Armored boats patrolled the coves, though they would surely prove insignificant if one of the large creatures should decide to attack.
Reverend Mother Corysta held herself erect, surprisingly unintimidated by the faux official. "It's no excuse, sir. No one knows where the worms came from or why they have appeared at this time. But they're real. Guild hunting ships dragged in a carcass, if you care to see it."
"Nonsense. Such a story obviously benefits the New Sisterhood." Ignoring her protestations, he motioned for Corysta to accompany him along a rocky shoreline path, his shoes crunching on the loose stones. Stepping in a puddle, he frowned down at his feet and kept walking. "CHOAM suspects that you're creating a false shortage in order to drive up prices. You have financial obligations. For years now, the Sisterhood has been commissioning extremely expensive ships, weapons, and military supplies. Your losses are tremendous."
"They're humanity's losses, sir." Corysta's voice was sharp.
"And now Chapterhouse itself, brought to its knees by a plague. It appears that the Sisterhood can no longer meet its financial obligations. Thus, CHOAM no longer considers you a good credit risk."
Corysta turned into the brisk sea wind. "These are matters you should take up with the Mother Commander."
"I should, but since she is on a quarantined planet, I can't very well call on her, can I? Your Sisterh
ood is falling apart as a result of external attack and internal strife."
Women stood on plastone ramps at the water's edge to receive a tired-looking group of Phibians who carried a net filled with small, misshapen soostones.
Khrone could tell at a glance the gems were of poor quality, but at least it was part of a shipment he could seize as overdue payment. "Are your Phibians afraid of sea monsters? Can they not go to richer beds of shellfish?"
"They harvest what they can, sir. There are no richer beds. The monsters have eaten many of the cholisters. Our underwater crops are ravaged. And, yes, the Phibians are understandably frightened. Many of them have been slaughtered." Corysta stared at him coldly, and Khrone appreciated the steel in her expression; he could respect it. "We have holo-footage of that, too, if you doubt me."
"It doesn't matter if I believe your story. I only want to know what the Sisterhood intends to do about it." Khrone knew the women could do nothing. Eventually the seaworms would bring down the soostone economy of Buzzell, thus removing another one of the Mother Commander's bargaining chips when she desperately needed to buy allegiances and secure equipment.
Kept in the dark, the exiled Sisters did not yet understand the true potential of those worms. The primary chemical attributes of the new melange stolen from Buzzell would be a thousand times more effective on human nerve receptors. Oh, it would work very nicely indeed!
He wondered if the Spacing Guild was even aware of Edrik's destroyed Heighliner yet. It was possible that they weren't. So many of their Navigators had vanished anyway, what was one more? If necessary, by planting a few hints here and there, Khrone could easily blame the loss on an attack by the thinking-machine battle fleet. If nothing else, Omnius made a fine scapegoat.
The Face Dancer myriad had set their hooks everywhere. The Ixians were building supposed weapons and draining the Chapterhouse coffers of spice; now the Sisterhood's soostone wealth was also disappearing. The Guild relied entirely on computerized navigation devices for their new ships, and the Navigators had no source of melange.
All enemies of the Face Dancers would fall. He would see to that. The Lost Tleilaxu and the original Masters had already been erased. The Ixians were in Khrone's pocket. Next would come the New Sisterhood, the Guild, and all of humanity. Finally, when he and his minions defeated the thinking machines, nothing would remain but the Face Dancers. And that would be enough.
Pleased with himself, Khrone marched up to the dock and yanked the net of soostones from the women trying to sort them. "Your production has dropped off drastically, and too many CHOAM merchants have gone away empty-handed."
Corysta hovered close behind him. "I hope to hire mercenary hunters to track down the seaworms. It is possible that we may find something of interest--maybe something more valuable than soostones."
So, this woman already had her suspicions about the ultraspice! "I doubt it," he said. Khrone took the net of rough soostones and marched back to the landing pad. Considering the vast game board, he decided it was finally time to head toward the heart of the thinking-machine empire. He would deliver the ultraspice to Omnius and let the evermind continue with his mad dream of creating and controlling his own Kwisatz Haderach.
It wouldn't help him in the end.
We believe that confession should lead to forgiveness and redemption. Usually, however, it leads only to further accusations.
--DR. WELLINGTON YUEH,
encrypted entry
The axlotl chamber smelled of fetid death. Duncan could not tear his gaze away from the still, cold flesh of the tank and the clear signs of necrosis. Rage and helplessness chewed at his gut. And who would the child have been? Sheeana hadn't even told him. Those damned Bene Gesserits and their secrets!
"Touch nothing," Teg warned. "Get me all security images right away. We will find the saboteur this time." One of the Sisters hurried to obtain the recordings.
Meanwhile, young Thufir cordoned off an area around the poisonravaged tank and its unborn ghola. Mostly recovered from the memory-trigger attempt that had gone so dramatically awry, he now sternly followed the methods the Bashar had taught him. The corrosive poison had completely destroyed the growing fetus and then eaten through the wall of the womb that kept the thing alive. Somehow the tank had fallen to the floor, and yellow puddles oozed around the dead flesh.
Sheeana turned to one of her Sisters. "Bring Jessica here. Immediately."
Duncan gave her a sharp look. "Why Jessica? Is she a suspect?"
"No, but she will be hurt by this. Maybe I shouldn't even tell her . . . ."
Presently, Teg received a surveillance holotube from one of the Bene Gesserits. "I will scan every second. There must be some piece of evidence pointing to the traitor among us."
"There is no need. I killed the ghola." A young man's voice. All of them spun to look at a grim-faced Dr. Wellington Yueh. "I had to." Thufir moved swiftly to seize him by the arm, and Yueh did not resist. He stood firm, ready to face the questions that would be thrown at him. "You can punish me, but I couldn't allow you to spawn another Twisted Mentat. Piter de Vries would only have caused bloodshed and pain."
While Duncan immediately grasped the implications of Yueh's confession, Sheeana sounded perplexed. "Piter? What are you talking about?"
Yueh didn't struggle in Thufir's firm grip. "I witnessed his evil firsthand, and I couldn't allow you to bring him back. Ever."
Just then, a breathless young Jessica hurried in with the three-year-old Alia in tow. Alia had intent, eager eyes, full of maturity and understanding that she should not have had. She carried a chubby doll that looked remarkably like a juvenile version of the fat Baron Harkonnen. One of its arms had almost torn loose. Leto II followed his grandmother, looking curious and worried.
Sheeana still didn't understand. "What does Piter de Vries have to do with any of this?"
Yueh made a distasteful expression. "Don't try to divert me with lies. I know who that ghola was."
"That baby was not Piter de Vries." Sheeana spoke her words in a normal tone. "It would have been Duke Leto Atreides."
Yueh looked as if he had been felled with an axe. "There was no doubt--I ran a genetic comparison!"
Jessica listened from just inside the doorway, her face flickering with a rush of hope before plunging into sadness. "My Leto?"
Yueh tried to sink to his knees, but Thufir held him upright.
"No! It can't be!"
With adult-sharp awareness, Alia tried to take her mother's hand, but Jessica pulled away from the two children to loom over the Suk doctor. "You killed my Duke? Again?"
He grabbed his temples. "It can't be. I saw the results myself. It was Piter de Vries."
Thufir Hawat raised his chin. "At least we have found our saboteur."
"I would never have killed the Duke! I loved Leto--"
"And now you've murdered him twice," Jessica said, stabbing with each icicle-sharp word. "Leto, my Leto . . ."
Finally, Thufir's comment seemed to sink in. "But I didn't kill the other three gholas or harm their tanks! I committed no other sabotage."
Teg said, "How can we believe you? This will require a great deal more investigation. I will review all evidence in light of this new information."
Sheeana was clearly troubled, but her words surprised everyone. "My own truthsense leads me to believe him."
The flesh tank and unborn fetus lay on the floor, chemically decomposing. Black streaks covered all tissue and spread into the surrounding puddle. Yueh struggled to throw himself into the poisonous corrosive, as if by doing so he could kill himself.
With an iron grip, Thufir held him away from it. "Not quite yet, Traitor."
"No good will come from any of this," the old Rabbi said, standing at the doorway of the medical center. No one had heard him arrive.
Desperate, Yueh looked at him. "I tested the samples you gave me--the baby was de Vries!"
The old man backed away like a startled bird. He looked indignant at the very sugges
tion he might have provoked the unstable young man. "Yes, I gave you a sample I obtained from the axlotl lab. But I merely raised a question--and never suggested that you should commit murder! Murder! I am a man of God, and you are a doctor--a Suk doctor! Who would imagine . . . ?" He shook his head. His gray beard looked especially wild today. "That tank you killed might have been Rebecca! I could never suggest such a thing."
Everyone in the room exchanged glances, silently agreeing that Yueh must be the saboteur after all.
"It wasn't me," he said. "Not the other times. Why would I confess to this but deny the others? My crime is the same."
"Not the same at all," Jessica said in a knotted voice. "This was my Duke . . . ." She turned and left, while Yueh stared beseechingly after her.
Each human, no matter how altruistic or peaceful he seems, carries the capacity to commit tremendous violence. I find this quality particularly fascinating, especially because it can lie dormant for extended periods and then flare up. For instance, consider their traditionally docile women. When these life-givers decide instead to take lives, it is a beautiful ferocity to behold.
--ERASMUS,
Laboratory Notes
On Chapterhouse, the meeting of Reverend Mothers degenerated quickly to murderous intent.
Eyes flashing, Kiria nudged the chairdog away from her as she stood. "Mother Commander, you have to accept certain facts. Chapterhouse is more than decimated. The Ixians still haven't produced the Obliterators they promised. We simply can't win this fight. As soon as we admit that, we can begin to make realistic plans."
Eyes bleary, Murbella gave the former Honored Matre a level look. "Such as?" The Mother Commander dealt with so many ongoing crises, obligations, and unsolvable problems that she could barely concentrate on the reports coming to the mostly empty Keep. The plague had passed on Chapterhouse, so everyone who was going to die was already dead. With the exception of the isolated inhabitants of the deep desert Shakkad Station, the only survivors on the planet were Reverend Mothers.
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