“You are a Sister Mentat, an essential element of our organization. I will depend on you for advice. I need Sisters I can rely on. You were there when Mother Superior Raquella died. You saw that she put her faith in me, and I put my faith in you now. The Sisterhood needs you, Fielle. I need you at this critically important time in our history.”
“As you wish, Mother Superior.” For a moment the Sister Mentat seemed disappointed, but she mastered her emotions, and Valya saw her features relax in acceptance. “I will do as you command.”
As Valya watched the gray smoke dissipate, she thought of her own rapid ascension here. The library of ancient experiences and knowledge in Other Memories had made her wise beyond her years.
She also knew that the resources of the Sisterhood gave her a clearer path to advance House Harkonnen. She could accomplish both of the goals that had consumed her for so long. As she co-opted the Salusan Sisters, she would gain greater influence with the Imperial throne, find and expand opportunities, seek ways to increase Harkonnen participation in the Landsraad. Maybe find a place for Danvis, maybe use Tula as a breeding mistress …
Griffin would have been proud of Valya. She knew that her beloved brother would have agreed with what she intended to do next.
The last wisps of smoke from the crematorium washed away in the morning breeze. It was over now. Both Dorotea and Raquella had been reduced to fine ash. Valya inhaled a long, deep breath of cold air, but didn’t allow herself a smile. She would continue to control her emotions.
“After we scatter the ashes,” she said, “I will make preparations to go to the Imperial Court and inform the orthodox Sisters of the deaths of both Raquella and Dorotea, as well as the good news that we are once again unified, and that I am the new Mother Superior. The six Salusan Sisters who came with Dorotea will accompany me to vouch for what they witnessed here.”
Fielle added, “And you must arrange for a new Truthsayer for the Emperor, now that Dorotea is gone.”
Valya had already been considering possibilities, reluctant to let one of Dorotea’s original followers take such an important role, though Salvador might insist on it. Valya needed her own loyal Truthsayers. “I will take Sister Olivia with me on this visit, and three or four other Wallach Sisters as well. I want you to remain here and manage the school in my absence.”
Fielle lowered her voice. “We dare not share the knowledge of the computers with the Salusan Sisters. That would shatter the Sisterhood again.”
“We kept that secret on Rossak, and we will keep it here, too.” Valya took a deep breath, as she pondered the future of the Sisterhood before her. “We will be a long time recovering from what the Emperor did to us on Rossak, and we must take great care not to incite extreme reactions. We will not become fanatical Butlerians, but we will quietly demonstrate that our human abilities are superior. And after generations of carefully modeled, studied, and manipulated breeding, we will advance humanity even further.”
When she visited the Imperial Court, Valya would take stock of the women there, assigning some of them back to Wallach IX, where they could be closely watched, while others might be more malleable and left on Salusa. She would also assign some of her faithful Sisters from Wallach IX to fill certain roles on Salusa. It would be a gradual process, requiring years, maybe even generations. Mother Superior Raquella had taught her how to think in the very long term.
“Our task will be easier, and far less dangerous, once the Butlerian hysteria quiets down,” Valya mused.
“Without Manford Torondo, the movement will fracture and fade away,” Fielle said. “I’m surprised he hasn’t been assassinated yet — by Josef Venport or someone else.”
Valya’s voice was completely even. “Are you volunteering for the assignment?”
“No, Mother Superior! I didn’t mean to suggest the Sisterhood would condone anything like that.”
Valya arched her eyebrows. “You should make a Mentat projection on the possibilities and probabilities. We might be better off if the Butlerian leader were out of the way.”
“Or worse off, if someone even more dangerous took his place.”
Two black-robed Sisters emerged from the crematorium, each carrying an urn. The ashes would still be warm, reminding Valya of how a body’s warmth lingered even after the heart had stopped beating. In time, the memory of the traitor Dorotea would grow as cold as her ashes that were soon to be spread on the ground. Valya would make sure that Dorotea was not revered, her actions not emulated. Perhaps even her name would be forgotten.
Raquella, though, was a different matter. There would be statues erected in her honor, and her memory would endure as long as the Sisterhood. And Valya Harkonnen would forever be known as her chosen successor, the bearer of her eternal torch.
Valya knew she was also much more than that.…
Chapter 76 (The tangible expression of the human)
The tangible expression of the human soul lies in the record of our thoughts and actions, and how we influence future generations.
— GILBERTUS ALBANS, last letter to Erasmus, found and decoded by Mentat Zendur (never delivered)
By night, the tangled sangrove forest was eerie and threatening, but Anna made her way along instinctive paths. She wasn’t afraid, because she had Erasmus with her — both the comforting voice in her ear, and the physical memory core that she had bound to her body beneath her clothing.
The gelsphere glowed through the material with varying degrees of brightness, providing faint illumination to light her way. Sometimes the orb went entirely dark when the robot’s spy-eyes sensed that Butlerians might be nearby. Once, he whispered to her to stop moving, and she froze, in total darkness, listening while someone moved through the forest nearby. When it was safe, she continued to make her way from the besieged Mentat School.
Anna hadn’t been instructed in physical combat. As the Emperor’s sister, she had led a pampered life, and when she trained with the Sisters on Rossak as well as at the Mentat School, her studies had been devoted to focusing her mind.
Now, as she slipped through the forest murk, balancing on the upthrust roots and taking care not to slip into the water, Anna heard faint voices seeping into her thoughts from memory … but not her own memory. The danger to the Mentat School and to the Headmaster brought the ghost whispers frothing out of her personal turmoil. Those clamoring memories must be echoes of past lives — female ancestors whose spirits were imprisoned within the double-helix cage of her DNA. Yet how could they be? Though she had survived the Rossak poison, Anna was not a Reverend Mother, and could only hear the whispers of what it must be like to be one.
The most important, and clearest, advisory voice belonged to Erasmus. “I can guide you with my spy-eyes while we are near the school. Did you memorize the new path the Mentats made?”
“I know the path, and I know my own shortcuts.”
“You’re a clever girl,” Erasmus said. “I am proud of you.” His comment made her feel good, and he added, “We need to maintain a swift pace, to get as far as we can from the Butlerian camp before sunrise.”
She felt distraught and wanted him to understand her urgency. “They’re going to execute Headmaster Albans. Shouldn’t we try to rescue him?”
At the thought of execution, Anna suddenly reeled as howling childhood memories surged back — her father forcing her to sit at his side while CET members were murdered in front of her. He had insisted that the experience would strengthen her, make her glad to see justice done. But it hadn’t. Instead, the bloodshed had showed her the horror of harsh penalties.