Best it were done quickly. The pain banished into our past. Let us get on with it!
She swam to the shallows and looked up at a puzzled Tamalane. Tam's robed skirts were dark with splashings from an unexpected wave. Odrade lifted her head clear of the small surges.
"Tam! Eliminate the sea as fast as possible. Get Weather to plot a swift dehydration scheme. Food and Transport will have to be brought into it. I'll approve the final plan after our usual review."
Tamalane turned away without speaking. She beckoned appropriate Sisters to accompany her, glancing only once at Mother Superior as she did this. See! I was right to bring along the necessary cadre!
Odrade climbed from the water. Wet sand gritted under her feet. Soon, it will be dry sand. She dressed without bothering to towel herself. Clothing gripped her flesh uncomfortably but she ignored this, walking up the strand away from the others, not looking back at the sea.
Souvenirs of memory must be only that. Things to be taken up and fondled occasionally for evocation of past joys. No joy can be permanent. All is transient. "This, too, shall pass away" applies to all of our living universe.
Where the beach became loamy dirt and a few sparse plants, she turned finally and looked back at the sea she had just condemned.
Only life itself mattered, she told herself. And life could not endure without an ongoing thrust of procreation.
Survival. Our children must survive. The Bene Gesserit must survive!
No single child was more important than the totality. She accepted this, recognizing it as the species talking to her from her deepest self, the self she had first encountered as Sea Child.
Odrade allowed Sea Child one last sniff of salt air as they returned to their vehicles and prepared to drive into Eldio. She felt herself grow calm. That essential balance, once learned, did not require a sea to maintain it.
***
Uproot your questions from their ground and the dangling roots will be seen. More questions!
Dama was in her element.
Spider Queen!
She liked the witches' title for her. This was the heart of her web, this new control center on junction. The exterior of the building still did not suit her. Too much Guild complacency in its design. Conservative. But the interior had begun to take on a familiarity that soothed her. She could almost imagine she had never left Dur, that there had been no Futars and the harrowing flight back into the Old Empire.
She stood in the open door of the Assembly Room looking out at the Botanical Garden. Logno waited four paces behind. Not too close behind me, Logno, or I shall have to kill you.
There was still dew on the lawn beyond the tiles where, when the sun had risen far enough, servants would distribute comfortable chairs and tables. She had ordered a sunny day and Weather had damned well better produce it. Logno's report was interesting. So the old witch had returned to Buzzell. And she was angry, too. Excellent. Obviously, she knew she was being watched and she had visited her supreme witch to ask for removal from Buzzell, for sanctuary. And she had been refused.
They don't care that we destroy their limbs just as long as the central body remains hidden.
Speaking over her shoulder to Logno, Dama said: "Bring that old witch to me. And all of her attendants."
As Logno turned to obey, Dama added: "And begin starving some Futars. I want them hungry."
"Yes, Dama."
Someone else moved into Logno's attendant position. Dama did not turn to identify the replacement. There were always enough aides to carry out necessary orders. One was much like another except in the matter of threat. Logno was a constant threat. Keeps me alert.
Dama inhaled deeply of the fresh air. It was going to be a good day precisely because that was what she desired. She gathered in her secret memories then and let them soothe her.
Guldur be blessed! We've found the place to rebuild our strength.
Consolidation of the Old Empire was proceeding as planned. There could not be many witches' nests left out there and, once that damnable Chapterhouse was found, the limbs could be destroyed at leisure.
Ix, now. There was a problem. Perhaps I should not have killed those two Ixian scientists yesterday.
But the fools had dared demand "more information" from her. Demanded! And after saying they still had no solution to rearming The Weapon. Of course, they did not know it was a weapon. Did they? She could not be sure. So it had been a good thing to kill those two after all. Teach them a lesson.
Bring us answers, not questions.
She liked the order she and her Sisters were creating in the Old Empire. There had been too much wandering about and too many different cultures, too many unstable religions.
Worship of Guldur will serve them as it serves us.
She felt no mystical affinity to her religion. It was a useful tool of power. The roots were well known: Leto II, the one those witches called "The Tyrant," and his father, Muad'Dib. Consummate power brokers, both of them. Lots of schismatic cells around but those could be weeded out. Keep the essence. It was a well-lubricated machine.
The tyranny of the minority cloaked in the mask of the majority.
That was what the witch Lucilla had recognized. No way to let her live after discovering she knew how to manipulate the masses. The witch nests would have to be found and burned. Lucilla's perceptiveness clearly was not an isolated example. Her actions betrayed the workings of a school. They taught this thing! Fools! You had to manage reality or things really got out of control.
Logno returned. Dama could always tell the sound of her footsteps. Furtive.
"The old witch will be brought from Buzzell," Logno said. "And her attendants."
"Don't forget about the Futars."
"I have given the orders, Dama."
Oily voice! You'd like to feed me to the herd, wouldn't you, Logno?
"And tighten up security on the cages, Logno. Three more of them escaped last night. They were wandering around in the garden when I awoke."
"I was told, Dama. More cage guards have been assigned."
"And don't tell me they're harmless without a Handler."
"I do not believe that, Dama."
And that's truth from her, for once. Futars terrify her. Good.
"I believe we have our power base, Logno." Dama turned, noting that Logno had encroached at least two millimeters into the danger zone. Logno saw it, too, and retreated. As close as you want in front where I can see you, Logno, but not behind my back.
Logno saw the orange blaze in Dama's eyes and almost knelt. Definite bending of the knees. "It is my eagerness to serve you, Dama!"
Your eagerness to replace me, Logno.
"What of that woman from Gammu? Odd name. What was it?"
"Rebecca, Dama. She and some of her companions have... ahhh, temporarily eluded us. We will find them. They cannot get off the planet."
"You think I should have kept her here, don't you?"
"It was wise to think of her as bait, Dama!"
"She's still bait. That witch we found on Gammu did not go to those people by accident."
"Yes, Dama."
Yes, Dama! But the subservient sound in Logno's voice was enjoyable. "Well, get on with it!"
Logno scurried away.
There were always those little cells of potential violence meeting secretly somewhere. Building up their mutual charges of hate, swarming out to disrupt the orderly lives around them. Someone always had to clean up after those disruptions. Dama sighed. Terror tactics were so... so temporary!
Success, that was the danger. It had cost them an empire. If you waved your success around like a banner someone always wanted to cut you down. Envy!
We will hold our success more cautiously this time.
She fell into a semi-reverie, still alert to the sounds behind her, but relishing the evidence of new victories that had been displayed to her this morning. She liked to roll the names of captive planets silently on her tongue.