Текст книги "Mentats of Dune"
Автор книги: Brian Herbert
Соавторы: Kevin Anderson
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 38 страниц)
Chapter 5 (Never underestimate the power of revenge)
Never underestimate the power of revenge as a motivating factor in human society.
– Mentat observation and warning
Valya Harkonnen realized she had done a cruel thing to her parents after returning to Lankiveil. Perhaps they would never forgive her … but she did not seek forgiveness. She never had. Her goals were beyond such concerns.
Even so, she wondered if she would ever see her ancestral home again. Lankiveil was a cold, isolated, unwelcoming place, not at all a world worthy of noble House Harkonnen. By rights her family should have lived on the Imperial capital of Salusa Secundus, not in exile on an out-of-the way planet few people wanted to visit. Someday, she would help her family earn back the glory it deserved.
For now, though, she was journeying far from Lankiveil, and taking her teenage sister, Tula, with her. But Valya’s thoughts trailed behind her and filled her with sadness.
Her parents had suffered enough, and she had not intended to cause them more anguish, but when her brother Griffin’s body had arrived in a shipping container – sent by the vile monster Vorian Atreides – she’d been pushed over the edge. She had long hesitated to attempt the Agony that would transform her into a powerful Reverend Mother, having seen too many Sisters fail, who either died in the attempt or were left brain-damaged – like Anna Corrino. But with her beloved Griffin dead and the hated Atreides still at large, she finally took the risk and consumed the deadly Rossak drug. Valya knew that if she succeeded in becoming a Reverend Mother, she would acquire remarkable mental abilities, bodily control, and access to a library of Other Memory. With such advantages, Vorian Atreides would never escape justice.…
Locked in her room in the Harkonnen main house, Valya had steeled herself, swallowed the poison – and plunged into a realm of such excruciating pain that she was certain she’d made a huge mistake. Tula had found her writhing and screaming on the floor.
But Valya was strong. She had survived – and changed.
With the passage of only a few months, Valya’s recollection of the pain softened and receded. It was like a mother’s amnesia after a difficult childbirth, and her marvelous new abilities far overshadowed the discomfort she had endured. Now Valya had memories of previous generations of childbirth, pain experienced by mothers long past. Physically, she was still in her early twenties, but her mind held the experiences and wisdom of thousands of years.…
Shortly before Emperor Salvador disbanded the Rossak School, Reverend Mother Raquella Berto-Anirul had confided in Valya. The old woman explained how she envisioned a vital, long-ranging mission for the order, involving breeding mistresses who would carry children with specific and necessary gene markers. Raquella’s goal, and thus the Sisterhood’s goal, was to improve the human race, to perfect the species that had undergone so many tribulations.
But the Sisterhood’s long-term plans had been waylaid by the brutal and petty behavior of Salvador Corrino. After murdering the Sister Mentats and surviving Sorceresses, disbanding the Rossak School, and scattering the rest of the women, the Emperor kept only a hundred loyal orthodox Sisters with him on Salusa, led by the traitor Reverend Mother Dorotea. The specially trained women provided Salvador with useful services, despite his earlier fit of pique against the Sisterhood.
Valya knew the true Sisterhood was not defeated, though. Her mentor, Reverend Mother Raquella, had quietly reestablished her school on distant Wallach IX, assisted by Directeur Josef Venport. Dorotea could have her bootlicking faction in the Imperial Palace; Valya intended to rejoin Raquella, as a Reverend Mother.
And her sister Tula might be an important part of the future plans, too – both on behalf of the Sisterhood and for House Harkonnen. Valya’s ambitions had room for both priorities. Valya would put forth her sister as a candidate for the proper training. The immense VenHold spacefolding ship carried them now on a roundabout voyage to Wallach IX. Valya knew Mother Superior Raquella would welcome the return of her best student.
As the ship traveled, Valya felt a rush of excitement, hoping she and the intense, bright-eyed Tula would find opportunities here. “I need you trained and at my side. I must know you are willing to do whatever must be done.”
Tula’s voice sounded small and uncertain. “I hope they accept me.”
“I will make them accept you. I have that much influence with the Mother Superior. They need talented recruits in order to rebuild the Sisterhood.”
Only seventeen, Tula was exquisitely beautiful, with a slender figure, classic facial features, sea-blue eyes, and curly blond hair. She could have enticed any young man, but her quiet isolation had kept her from romance on Lankiveil. The Sisterhood would change her and strengthen her, and Tula would have to learn how to use her considerable physical assets. She could be a tool, or a weapon, to advance the cause of House Harkonnen.
The young women had left their parents, their younger brother, Danvis, and their home on Lankiveil. Both would return someday, once they restored the Harkonnen name to a place of honor instead of historical shame … and once Valya saw the Atreides destroyed. Her sister would help her achieve all that.
In the months since Griffin’s funeral, Valya had worked to ensure that Tula’s hatred for Vorian Atreides was as great as her own. That one man was responsible for so much Harkonnen suffering, dating back to the disgrace of her great-grandfather Abulurd in the Battle of Corrin.
Raquella’s Sisterhood could help her achieve what she needed.
Reaching Wallach IX at last, the two sisters stepped off the shuttle on the landing field. They felt a cold, wet wind, but Valya controlled her body and watched Tula try to do the same, as she had been taught; they had endured far worse cold on Lankiveil. The two tightened their thick whale-fur coats around their necks, taking pride in the new Harkonnen family crest that Valya had designed and sewn onto their coats before departing: a mythological creature with the head and wings of an eagle, the body of a lion. A griffin, in honor of their fallen brother.
A black-robed woman approached, and Valya recognized Reverend Mother Ellulia, who had passed through the Agony in the last days on Rossak. Ellulia was tall and slender, with wisps of silvery-gray hair peeking out of the hood over her head. Her expression lit up with recognition. “Valya, you found us again!”
Valya lifted her chin as she announced, “The Sisterhood has always been inside me, and now I return as a Reverend Mother.” She took Tula’s arm. “I brought my younger sister to be trained as well. We have come to see Raquella.”
Ellulia frowned at the familiarity. “Mother Superior Raquella is away on Lampadas to retrieve new Sister Mentats, but she is due to return in two days.” Her expression softened as she turned to Tula. “But any candidate as talented as Valya Harkonnen will be a worthy addition to the true Sisterhood. I’m pleased you came here, rather than joining Dorotea’s faction on Salusa Secundus. I was concerned you’d make the wrong choice, Valya. You were Dorotea’s friend.”
Valya frowned. Her friendship with Dorotea had been feigned so she could keep an eye on the group of dangerous, heretical Sisters. “I never agreed with Dorotea’s pandering to the Butlerians.”
In those days, Valya had hoped to become Raquella’s heir apparent at the head of the order, but she’d been reluctant to undergo the Agony. Now, however, Valya was a Reverend Mother herself, and here on Wallach IX she hoped to reclaim her position in the hierarchy. Having abandoned the true Sisterhood to form her weak splinter group at the feet of Emperor Salvador, Dorotea was no longer her competitor.
Ellulia led the two newcomers to a cluster of prefabricated buildings with metal roofs. “Mother Superior will be pleased to learn you are safe, and we can use every Reverend Mother – our numbers have slowly increased, but we still lose many to the Agony.” She pointed toward one of the buildings, where a gnarled, crippled woman was being helped inside. “Sister Ignacia was among our brightest, and now she’s just one of seventy-eight failed Reverend Mothers we must care for.”
Valya shook her head, remembering Ignacia. “They were too weak to succeed.” Now that she had passed through the Agony herself, she felt no sympathy for those who failed. “The Mother Superior often says that we all make necessary sacrifices for the advancement of the Sisterhood.”
Ellulia frowned, but gave a cautious nod. “And because of their brave sacrifices, we will always honor our damaged Sisters and care for them. We continue to investigate the requirements of the ordeal, to see if we can make the transition easier for our fellow Sisters.”
Valya did not want her own sister to end up dead or comatose – Tula had too much to accomplish. “An admirable goal, but only the best and strongest are fit to become Reverend Mothers. And … what of Anna Corrino? Where is she now?”
Ellulia clucked her tongue. “On Lampadas.”
Alarmed, Valya asked, “With the Butlerians?”
“No, at the Mentat School. Gilbertus Albans is using his techniques to restore her damaged mind.”
Valya felt a twinge of guilt, because she was responsible for the flighty girl taking the poison that had nearly killed her. Instead of admitting that, though, she said, “I doubt Mentat techniques will cure her, but if she fails to recover there, at least the blame won’t fall on the Sisterhood.” She shook her head. “It is an unkind comment, but Anna was never qualified to become a Sister, much less a Reverend Mother. She only came to Rossak because the Emperor needed someone to watch over her – and the Emperor destroyed our school because of it.”
As Ellulia led the Harkonnen sisters toward the buildings, Valya assessed the new school complex. She saw snow-capped peaks in the distance, a weak, blue-white sun overhead. The biting wind blew Valya’s whale-fur robe. Looking at the cheap prefab buildings, she was dismayed at how far the once glorious organization had fallen.
It was all Dorotea’s fault, Valya knew, for turning the Emperor against them. Dorotea had wheedled her way into Salvador’s good graces, convincing him that the Sisterhood used forbidden computers to manage breeding records – which was true, although Dorotea had never proved it.
Noticing Valya’s disappointed expression, Ellulia paused in front of the austere buildings. “Josef and Cioba Venport donated these temporary structures for our new headquarters. This planet is our safe haven – we’re lucky to have it.”
Valya glanced at Tula, who now seemed uncertain about coming here. “They are sufficient for instruction – that is what counts. And my sister knows how to endure hardships.”
Tula squared her shoulders. “I didn’t expect this to be easy.”
Ellulia paused at a one-story building with an open window, despite the cold. Peering inside, Valya saw four Sisters sitting on benches. She was surprised to hear them discussing passages from the Azhar Book, the Sisterhood’s philosophical manual written as their response to the Orange Catholic Bible. She turned to Ellulia. “I thought Emperor Salvador ordered all copies of the Azhar Book destroyed.”
The other woman smiled. “One of those Sisters memorized the text, and now the other three are transcribing it from her dictation. Nothing is lost so long as memory remains. We will republish the book after the Sisters resolve a few minor wording disagreements. Mother Superior Raquella is the arbiter.”
Ellulia led them through a door into an adjacent hall, just as a cold gust of wind pressed against the building. Valya heard the thin walls groan and felt the floor move beneath her feet. This new school on Wallach IX was a far cry from the lush and ancient cliff city on Rossak.
Chapter 6 (How do you develop a strategy against insanity)
How do you develop a strategy against insanity? How do you fight those who act against their own self-interest? What weapons can penetrate the ignorance with which the Butlerians wrap themselves like a proud mantle?
– JOSEF VENPORT, VenHold internal memo, limited distribution
Two silent Mentat trainees led Mother Superior Raquella across elevated walkways that connected the imposing complex of buildings. Her presence at the Mentat School was unofficial and unrecorded, facilitated by Cioba Venport, who supported Raquella’s Sisterhood in exile.
On the main deck of the school, Headmaster Albans hurried toward her. Despite the oppressive humidity, he wore dark trousers, a beige shirt, coat, and tie. “Excuse my tardiness, Mother Superior. A student was killed in training the other day, and her parents were understandably upset – a very influential Landsraad family.” Gilbertus wiped perspiration from his flushed face. “Our curriculum is designed to enhance mental abilities, but we make our trainees face physical dangers as well. Even with the extra defensive measures we’ve instituted for Anna Corrino, we cannot make absolute guarantees as to the safety of the students.”
Raquella gave a somber nod, thinking of the Sisters who had died in the throes of Agony while trying to become Reverend Mothers. “I understand full well. Acquiring knowledge is often dangerous – especially these days.”
On her previous visits to Lampadas, the old Mother Superior had always been struck by the rigorous challenges the Headmaster imposed on his students. She’d had Sister Mentats in her Rossak School, including ancient Karee Marques, who were trained on Lampadas, and Karee had been a good friend and an important Mentat for the Sisterhood. Emperor Salvador had murdered her, along with the rest of the Sister Mentats.
Crisis. Survival. Advancement. That had been a mantra on Rossak, appropriate then and now, because Gilbertus Albans was training new Sister Mentats for Raquella’s reborn school on Wallach IX.
As the Headmaster led her inside the main lecture building, she turned from the elevated walkway to look out at the sprawling shallow lake. “My own students are adjusting to Wallach IX, which is much less hospitable than Rossak. It’s a damaged world, still recovering from atomic bombardment at the end of the Jihad. But we will endure, and the Sisters will be strong.”
“Challenges improve those who survive,” Gilbertus said. “There are many paths to perfection and personal achievement. And countless dead ends.”
“We are both trying to improve humanity, Headmaster – helping our race achieve its potential without unnecessary reliance on machines.”
Raquella thought of her hoarded breeding records, the genetic possibilities that had been recorded for generations; it was enough information to chart a path for all humanity – if properly used. With the right guidance, the Sisterhood could accomplish in a few millennia what would normally require millions of years by natural processes.
The Sisterhood’s secret computers contained billions of detailed samples, but those computers had been dismantled and hidden deep in Rossak’s jungles, where the antitechnology fanatics could never find them. When Raquella’s Wallach IX school was more stable, she could retrieve the forbidden machines and put them to use again.
Meanwhile, Headmaster Albans had finished training ten Sisters to serve as Mentats. Those new Sister Mentats could memorize the numerous bound volumes of breeding records that Raquella had spirited away from Rossak into exile, and they could run their own complex projections of bloodlines. It was the most the Sisterhood could do, until they had their computers back.
“Your women are among my best students,” Gilbertus said. “Very adept minds. Follow me – they are anxious to be reunited with their Mother Superior. As soon as the proctors finish subjecting them to a battery of mental tests, if all goes as I expect, you can take them with you as new Mentat graduates.”
Relief made her giddy. “So much has happened to our Sisterhood since they came here to Lampadas. They will help resurrect my school.”
At Raquella’s extreme age, the hopeless enormity of the challenge of rebuilding was especially tiring for her. As a Reverend Mother, she knew her own body intimately, down to the cellular level. Her biology had reached its limits, though aided by the geriatric effects of melange. For the sake of the Sisterhood, she couldn’t afford to let herself die … not yet. Too much was at stake. Her wisest, most-qualified Sisters had been killed by Emperor Salvador’s soldiers, and Raquella had no obvious successor. If she died, the Sisterhood would die … and she refused to let that happen.
For months, she had quietly sent out notices, tracking down her scattered Sisters and recalling them to Wallach IX – other than the orthodox ones who went with Dorotea to serve the Emperor. Fortunately, Salvador had not forbidden Raquella from establishing a new school elsewhere. Maybe it was because of disinterest, or maybe Dorotea had advised tolerance. Raquella hoped her granddaughter still retained at least that much loyalty and compassion. Even so, Raquella tried not to call too much attention to her new school.…
She and the Headmaster reached a training chamber with a thick plaz floor and walls that provided views of a deep channel carved beneath the school building. It was filled with cloudy water and rough swamp grasses. Forty students sat around the perimeter, wearing headsets and staring at frightening creatures that lumbered through the channel, thudding against the plaz.
“This mental gauntlet is one of our final examinations,” the Headmaster explained. “Those dangerous creatures are a constant visual and auditory distraction, and their individual sounds are transmitted through the headsets, amplified to a cacophony. Armored divers are herding the animals along, agitating them. We do everything possible to interfere with our students’ delicate, precise mental pathways … and they must still perform flawlessly.”
Raquella thought there must be simpler ways to distract students, but the intimidating display seemed effective. The trainees showed great focus as they moved their mouths, muttering quietly.
“They speak into a lip-reading device,” Gilbertus said, “reciting long lists of what they have memorized and making complicated projections. It is a way of testing retention and comprehension, as well as historical perspective. Being a Mentat involves not just memorization, but holistic analysis as well. Your recruits are some of my best trainees, particularly Fielle Vinona.”
Raquella spotted Fielle, a heavyset young woman, focused on a monstrous, sharp-toothed creature in the marsh while reciting her lesson. The prehistoric reptile swam forward and thudded against the plaz barely a hand-span from Fielle’s fleshy face. Frustrated by the barrier, the creature moved away and attacked another animal, tearing it apart. Fielle didn’t flinch. Raquella felt a flush of pride.
Among the trainees, she was startled to spot the blond Anna Corrino. The young woman did not notice the Mother Superior, intent on her exercises. “Have you had any success with the Emperor’s sister?”
“She is a very skilled trainee, though her social abilities are lacking. We are doing what we can for her.”
* * *
THE FOLLOWING DAY, Headmaster Albans allowed the ten Sisterhood trainees to graduate, as promised. They had passed every examination, some excelling above most other Mentat students, with Sister Fielle the brightest among them. Fielle carried her weight well, a handsome woman rather than pretty, with a solid jaw, alert brown eyes, and short black hair.
Fielle maintained a demeanor of unassuming modesty, but Raquella knew she had deep ambitions. As Mother Superior, the old woman decided to nurse and guide those ambitions, encouraging Fielle’s strength and loyalty for the good of the Sisterhood. Having lost her greatest student, Valya Harkonnen, as well as her own granddaughter Dorotea and her orthodox Sisters to the Imperial Court, Raquella needed to rebuild a strong foundation for her order.
She desperately hoped to repair the rift in the Sisterhood so that both the Wallach IX and the Salusan factions could work together again, but she felt her time waning. She had already lived far longer than a normal life span, and it was more important than ever to select her successor.
Raquella concealed her troubled thoughts as she rounded up her new Sister Mentats, glad to take them to Wallach IX. As they boarded the VenHold shuttle, she could feel their excitement, pleased to be going to the new school.
But as she worked her way to her seat, wary of the long and roundabout foldspace trip, Raquella suddenly felt dizzy. Her knees buckled, but she grabbed hold of a seat back. With great effort and bodily control, she managed to remain standing.
As if from a great distance, she heard a concerned voice beside her and felt a strong supportive grip. “Mother Superior!” Fielle eased her into the nearest seat. “How can I help?”
Raquella didn’t answer. She needed all her mental focus just to keep breathing, to concentrate on the inner workings of her body. She felt Fielle’s presence radiating strength next to her. Raquella sensed the new Sister Mentat was a good and capable person, but much too young and inexperienced to lead the Sisterhood. And not even a Reverend Mother yet.
But all of the remaining Sisters were too young and inexperienced. She had lost her best candidates. If the Mother Superior died here and now, she had no idea who would take control of the order. Maybe the Sisterhood would just fade away. She could not allow that!
Even as Fielle’s voice continued in the background, Raquella looked deep within herself and analyzed what was wrong with her body. She needed to fix the problem, even if it required superhuman effort. She detected a worsening imbalance in her internal chemistry, the loss of key enzymes and hormones in her system. Trying to find an inner solution, she recalled another crisis long ago when she had adjusted her body chemistry to neutralize poison when the Sorceress Ticia Cenva tried to murder her. In defeating that grave threat, Raquella had found the key to becoming a Reverend Mother.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the hard seat. “I just need a moment. Need … to concentrate.”
Raquella plunged her consciousness deep inside, where she envisioned the inner machinery of her body and held this cellular blueprint as a vivid color image projected against her closed eyelids. Breathing deeply, seeing every detail, she began to make adjustments to rebalance her metabolism, enhancing the flow of oxygen to her brain, combining elements to form necessary enzymes and neurotransmitters.
All the while, she heard Fielle’s faint but ever-more-concerned voice in the background, as well as the private chatter of Other Memory inside her. With those past lives, Raquella had experienced death countless times over countless generations, but she was not ready to join the ghost voices, not yet. She had to do everything possible to keep herself alive – not because she was afraid of dying, but because she was afraid for the Sisterhood.
Fielle’s voice receded, as if slipping into a deep void, then grew stronger with each passing moment. When Raquella opened her eyes, she saw the younger woman close to her, with the other nine Sister Mentats gathered around, concerned. They cleared a path when a Mentat physician rushed aboard the shuttle carrying a small medical case, but the old woman waved him away. “I’m perfectly fine. I have performed my own internal analysis, thank you.” She glanced around the shuttle that would take them up to orbit. “I have important work to do for the Sisterhood. We must depart on schedule.”
With a disapproving expression, the doctor retreated down the aisle. Raquella smiled at the other Sisters, but an urgent clamor continued in her mind. I must not delay. Too little time left, and so much work to do before I die!
