Mentats of Dune

Raquella nodded. “You will receive a full briefing before I send you on your new mission.”

“And I would love to hear about the progress of all my recruits — especially Valya Harko

“Once they join the school, acolytes are no longer your concern.” Raquella heard the sharp tone in her voice and softened it, because this was not the time to antagonize Arlett. “Reverend Mother Valya has gone to Ginaz to assess the fighting techniques of the Swordmasters. I suspect by now she has thrown the entire combat school into turmoil.”

Arlett looked relieved. “I watched her in combat against her brother Griffin. She had great talent even when she was young and uncontrolled. Without doubt, she will teach the Swordmasters a few things.”

“Valya brought her sister, Tula, to our school. The girl showed promise, but left us for a personal matter. A severe disappointment.”

A troubled expression crossed Arlett’s face. “The Sisterhood is not for everyone, and recruiting is more difficult than it has been in the past. There are so many new schools for the ambitious to join, and ours has obviously fallen into disfavor.”

“We may no longer be in our old complex on Rossak, but Emperor Salvador allows us to continue our training here. We will grow strong again.”

Arlett frowned. “Or the orthodox Sisters on Salusa will grow strong. Apparently, Reverend Mother Dorotea is training new acolytes.” Raquella heard no special intonation in Arlett’s voice when she spoke her daughter’s name.

“This is the true Sisterhood,” Raquella reminded her. She stood up from her desk and gestured for Arlett to follow her to an instructional house where, seated in a circle on the cold floor, Fielle and five other Sister Mentats pored over bound volumes of family histories, bloodline trees, and genetic descriptions dating back to Mating Indices developed by the Sorceresses of Rossak.

Seeing them enter, Fielle rose to her feet, smiling as she greeted Raquella, while giving Arlett barely a glance. Now that Valya was gone, Fielle seemed even more eager to impress the Mother Superior. “We have collated and accessed enough data now, Mother Superior, that we have Mentat projections for many generations ahead — and we foresee a glorious pathway, one we will take to create the pi

“Every breeding plan must have an ultimate goal.” Raquella felt a trace of hope. She had insisted that these women do the memorization work, although more comprehensive data was contained in the secret computers.

The wounded Sisterhood could begin to grow truly strong again … but that would not be enough for Raquella. Before dying she had to bring the two factions together again and choose a worthy successor. After carrying such a heavy future on her shoulders, she could not wait to pass the load to a younger leader.

Fielle continued, “We ca

Arlett had been away from the main school for so long that she seemed alarmed by the idea. “Is it the Sisterhood’s business to plan for that? What if our own plans turn against us? Is there not a risk?”

Raquella frowned at her daughter’s ill-considered comment. “I have countless past lives in my head. They advise me, scold me, pressure me. Rarely are they unanimous, but Other Memory is clear that there’s an even greater risk if we do not pursue this grand genetic scheme.” She nodded to Fielle, then to the other Sister Mentats, who had paused to listen. “Proceed with your work.”

Raquella was content to see all the myriad pieces of her Sisterhood working together, looking so far into the future, like a ship guided across stormy seas but by a steady hand on the helm.

How could these immense and complex plans proceed without her? Would any of the the squabbling voices of Other Memory surface for some other Reverend Mother to provide guidance and more detail? Who was qualified? Who had the experience, the maturity, the temperament? Raquella had lived far too long — if she had let herself die decades ago, during a more stable time, perhaps the new leader would already be seasoned. But she didn’t have such a luxury. Her bones ached; her body felt fragile and tired.

Her two best students were Dorotea and Valya. Should her choice be Valya Harko

Dorotea, though, had betrayed her fundamental loyalty to the Sisterhood, turning a philosophical difference into a personal one. The ancestral memories had revealed to her how Raquella had forcefully separated Arlett and baby Dorotea. Was that reason enough for her to expose her fellow Sisters to Imperial retaliation? Or, by throwing in her lot with the Emperor, did she have a painful but visionary insight into how to preserve at least some of the Sisterhood’s teachings, right under the Emperor’s nose? What if Dorotea had done the right thing after all?

Raquella didn’t know, but if she could somehow co-opt the Salusan Sisterhood into her own and bring the two factions back together, then she could be content. What if choosing Dorotea as her successor healed the breach?

While the remaining sands of her life trickled through the hourglass, Raquella Berto-Anirul found herself increasingly tempted to join the voices inside her head. She could become part of the collective Other Memories, the sea of past lives.

But not yet. Neither she nor the human race could afford for her to go too soon.

Raquella knew what she had to do. As she and Arlett emerged from the teaching hall into the cool, gray morning, the Mother Superior turned to her daughter. “I want you to go to Salusa Secundus. Initiate a secret co

Arlett was surprised. “She is the Emperor’s Truthsayer. Why would she listen to me, Mother Superior? I doubt if she even knows who I am.”

Raquella covered a small smile. “She will know who you are. Trust me.”

Arlett seemed perplexed, but she drew herself up, ready to begin her assignment. “And what am I to say to her?”

“This schism has caused too much damage. Be my liaison and soften her heart toward me. Ask her to come to Wallach IX and speak with me — while there is still time.”

Arlett seemed startled. “While there is time, Mother Superior? What do you mean?”

“Inform her that I do not have long to live. She is a Truthsayer, and will know you are not lying. Tell her that I want to talk with her before the end.”

Chapter 43 (Successful people sort through priorities)

Successful people sort through priorities and act upon them, while the unsuccessful see only a fog of chaos.

— DIRECTEUR JOSEF VENPORT, instruction to business trainees

In hand-to-hand combat, Valya Harko

Each time she practiced fighting now, each time she went through her lethal yet graceful moves, she remembered what she and her brother had taught each other. More recently, during Tula’s training, her sister had shown quick advancement, too, almost fighting at Valya’s level. But Tula was no match for Valya, as Griffin had been. She and her brother had shared something indefinable, had saved each other’s lives, and forged a remarkable closeness.