Level 10: 588 m in diameter, 175 rooms arranged in concentric galleries, "the Dragon's Lair." From the northeast corner of this level, a tunnel leads downward at a five-degree decline. The ceiling of the tunnel has fallen or been made to fall about a hundred meters from the level opening, closing it for a considerable but undetermined distance. If continued in a straight line (with an eventual ascension), it would pass under the intersection of longitude 50° east with latitude 60° north. Nothing in that region would explain its destination. Excavation of the tunnel to determine its path will require heavy equipment and an enormous expenditure of funds, and cannot begin in any case until all the crystals have been cataloged and removed.
That task is proceeding slowly for one reason only: despite diligent search, no index or catalog of the collection has yet been found, nor is there any grouping of materials by subject, date, area, author, or any other arrangement yet tested. Majority opinion at present is that there existed no system to the shelving of the contents: Leto simply remembered where each one was, startling as that may seem, and in view of his enormous lifespan saw no more need to classify them than we would to index the contents of each room of our houses.
The feeling one experiences within the structure is complex. One feels dwarfed by the scale of the chambers, and the unvarying sameness of the rooms produces a lessening of alertness. A typical room has walls and ceiling of the gray of synthrock; on each storage wall are rows of black metal shelves fixed one above the other at a distance of 260 cm. The ridulian crystal papers lie side by side on these shelves. Unmodified glow-plants encircle the room where the walls meet the ceiling, and their dim light reflects from the crystals, casting patterns on the underside of each shelf much like those reflected from the surface of a pool of water. Yet water reflections change as the water ripples, but the crystal reflections are un-moving, unchanging. When someone with a heavy tread approaches the position of the observer, his tread sets up vibrations in the crystals, making the reflections quiver long before the footfall is heard. It has been suggested that this phenomenon functions as a soundless alarm, and that someone familiar with the structure of the whole could detect the whereabouts of an intruder from characteristic vibrations of the reflected light. Like so many facets in the library, this suggestion has not been investigated. So unnerving can the movement of the reflections be, however, that all researchers inside the library are required to wear cushioned slippers and to move deliberately.
The dimensions of the chambers seem not to be scaled to human proportions; this perception is especially strong on level 10. There are no doors between rooms; passage from one chamber to another is through a 20-meter by 10-meter archway. Standing in the core room on the tenth level, with galleries stretching away in six directions, one's mind balks at the distances conveyed as the rooms diminish toward the six vanishing points, and one feels located at the center of a mirrored room, rather than at the nexus of hundred-meter hallways.
It is difficult to see how a human being can have a sense of the whole at any level below the fourth, yet workers in the library have surprisingly uniform reactions to various levels. Those with a strong sense of direction respond comfortably to symmetrical levels such as 5 and 9; their discomfort increases (though not greatly) in the asymmetrical trefoil levels of 4 and 7. But most unexpected was the reaction to level 6; that level is unique in that it is bilaterally symmetrical along the north-south axis, but asymmetrical along the east-west axis. Workers on the level unconsciously align their desks to face either north or south-When this was noticed, certain psychological tests were conducted. In one, half of the carrels brought into the central room were arranged facing north or south, and half facing east or west. Workers invariably chose the north-south desks. When all the desks in the room were bolted to the floor facing east or west, subjects would begin their tasks at the desks, but within minutes they would carry their papers to another level. The fear of greatly decreasing the efficiency of translators on the sixth level brought the experiment to an end, but the sixth level was later replicated at the University of Pemersy on Diana for additional testing. The eighth level was unchallenged for producing a negative effect on its inhabitants, but since no crystals — indeed nothing of any kind — was stored on this level, it presented no problems.
Why Leto II created the library in this form, and whether this was in fact its final form, are questions that will not soon be answered. Perhaps the different levels satisfied some cyclical need for symmetry, asymmetry, and randomness. Perhaps, as Tolver Arb has suggested, level 3 was created during a period of insanity. Perhaps, as many have speculated, the library was in a continual process of creation, with new levels being opened as materials accumulated. Certainly the space was available: within the no-room of the Holtzman Sphere, many more chambers could have been excavated. Yet to all these suggestions there are problems: no level shows signs of earlier or later construction (so far as we can tell) than any other. The only entrance or exit is the tunnel on the tenth level; it was from there that the work must have begun. The dazzling discovery of the crystals should not blind us to the fact that in the structure of the library itself there are a multitude of puzzles, the answers to which may tell us much that is valuable about the psychology of the builder of the library, and hence much about the empire that he maintained for so long.
W.E.M.
Further references: IXIAN NO-ROOMS; Hadi Benotto, Leto's Library: Structure and Function, Library Confraternity Extra Series 7; Adib 'l-Haddad, I Fell Into the Past, Arrakis Studies 17 (Grumman: United Worlds); Tolver Arb, "The Levels of the Rakis Library," Studies in Imperial History 23:87104; Ismiil al-Habaqi, My Life and Times, (Caladan: Interplanetary News Service Books).
RAMALLO, REVEREND MOTHER ALYNDA.
Spiritual guide of the Fremen. This holy woman's final act initiated the Lady Jessica into the mysteries of the office of Reverend Mother. The ceremony was occasioned by the Reverend Mother's premonition of her own death, since at that time she was already very old, her life very brittle.
Yet, despite the apparent fragility of her body under its hooded gown, Muad'Dib was to recall later the aura of latent strength flowing from her presence, touching all who saw her. He was reminded then, he later said, of Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam and the certainty of power and authority she radiated when he first met her.
The comparison could give neither Reverend Mother Gaius Helen nor Reverend Mother Alynda Ramallo any slight. Both were wholly dedicated servants of a cause they believed in. Each in her own way fulfilled a vital mission and did so with foresight and courage. What was unknown until the Dar-es-Balat dig was the precise extent to which their mutual bond was forged by the Lady Jessica. Natural mother and spiritual mother, blood, history, sensibility, mission — past, present, and future — merged in Jessica. To her and in her was bequeathed and held the ancient thought and way: the independence, resilience, and strength of maternal genetics and early training; and the rebirth of courage, experience, and spirit of her inheritance from Mother Ramallo.
A fascinating question has been raised by the Rakis Finds: did Mohiam and Ramallo meet? Did they in fact form a friendship that endured across decades and lightyears? The conjecture arises from these circumstances: One of the chief teachers of Helen was the Reverend Mother Decius Nancy Croesia, who included among her other duties traveling to various planets in periodic checks on the effectiveness of the Panoplia Propheticus. On such a trip to Dune, Helen accompanied her, and R.M. Croesia records in her Memoirs that her student made a close friend of a Fremen girl named Alynda — and Alynda was Ramallo's first name. If this was Ramallo, could she have known, when she befriended an only slightly younger girl named Helen Mohiam, that their lives would be inextricably twined? Could either of them foresee then that the secret child of one would become the spiritual child and heir of the other?
If so, then Reverend Mother Gaius Helen played a generous part in directing matters so that Jessica's ordeal and triumph would take place at
the hands of the beloved Reverend Mother Ramallo.
Truly the Reverend Mother of the Fremen had had a distinguished career, marked by admiration, respect, and love. And the achievements of "Alynda" were recorded with obvious pleasure by Reverend Mother Gaius Helen in her diaries. By no means had she forgotten her old friend. For her, "Alynda" would always be the image of the slender, laughing confidante of so long ago. Of this life-long attachment, Gaius Helen wrote: "If there is, or ever has been, any love in me to give I gave it first to that charming girl who took a shy and awkward newcomer under her soft wing. Only Jessica, afterward, could have shared a place with her in my heart." One hopes fervently that future translations will confirm or disprove the tantalizing possibility that "Alynda" was Ramallo.
Indeed, the strange history of the relationship between these three Reverend Mothers will perhaps never be fully revealed. That Reverend Mother Ramallo had the profoundest effect on Jessica on the occasion of their only meeting is entirely comprehensible. In the act of becoming the new Reverend Mother of the Fremen, the Lady Jessica literally and figuratively absorbed the life and being of her predecessor. How closely that life was linked with her past, she was never to know. Jessica did realize, however, the exceptional quality of the body of experience and value of spirit she inherited from Mother Ramallo, but she did not realize until far too late that the ceremony also created St. Alia of the Knife, the Abomination.
G.E.
Further references: R.M. Decius Nancy Croesia, Memoris, tr. Ewan Gwaladar, B.G. Foundation Studies 3 (Diana: Tevis); R.M. Gaius Helen Mohiam, Diaries, Lib. Com. Temp. Ser. 133.
REPKIT
A kit containing repair and replacement essentials for Fremen stillsuits. Repkits have been found throughout the digs in the major sietches, and are assumed to have been as much a part of everyday Fremen life as the stillsuit itself. The kits, found as part of the traveling package, contained spare filtplugs, two or three lengths of watertube, patch material, and an awl and polyrivets. Larger kits, found in most yalis, contain larger amounts of the same supplies.
The lengths of watertube are identical to the original-issue equipment. They provided insurance in case one of the tubes was cut by a rock while climbing or creased by careless sleeping. The awl's point could distend and even slit the ends of tubing so that a self-shrinking splice could be made in the field.
The patch material is the same nonpermeable outer layer fabric used in original manufacture. The polyrivets are small, solid cylinders before they are used, but approximately 3 mm of each end is a malleable melange-ethylene compound. The middle section, apparently cured differently, is a harder version of the same material.
The diameter is about 4 mm, and lengths vary between 7 mm and 9 mm. Slices, rips, holes and tears in the original outer layer could be repaired by applying a piece from the repkit to the outside of the affected area, using the awl to penetrate both new and old layers, and attaching the new over the old with polyrivets through the holes. Once a rivet was in place, finger pressure on both ends would peen the malleable ends and hold the two layers of fabric together. Judging by the number of extensively patched stillsuits discovered, the rivet repair was not only satisfactory in the field but was structurally strong enough to last a long time. The rivets alone were not enough, however; upon the wearer's return to sietch the rough patches were heat-treated at the edges to guarantee a waterproof seal.
Anthropologizers have theorized about the extent to which the repkits' filtplugs have been modified from general issue standards. Conceivably, the detailed adjustment (presumably for fit) of many of the spares indicates the prudence of the owner and therefore aided survival. Studies are underway to process data about numbers of plugs, numbers of modified plugs, proportions at different sites, and general condition of the associated stillsuits. The goal is significant correlations indicating survival propensities of different characteristics. Cynics have wondered if, since the universal sizing of filtplugs seems to have been reasonably efficient, the Fremen who fiddled with their spares were the lazy and incompetent who were "excused" from spending time on more important tasks.
The repkits appear to nave been the most important emergency supplies carried by Fremen. They seem to have been carried everywhere and always. Keeping the stillsuit in good repair was a very high Fremen priority.
J.L.G.
Further references: FILTPLUG; WATERTUBE.
REVEREND MOTHER
A title bestowed on those venerable guardians of the Bene Gesserit whose ability to use their bodies as vessels in transforming the Water of Life, for purposes of illumination, earned them a place among the Elect.
Evidence gathered from the previously sealed Archives of the Bene Gesserit Chapter House indicates that a Reverend Mother, by virtue of her standing, was one who had attained to an extraordinary plane of consciousness and prophetic intuition. In addition, a rich cache of manuscripts, journals, and diaries secreted in the Archives reveals a sacred history of the office of Reverend Mother extending back as far as Jehanne Butler. These documents, particularly the appendix to the Ordines Matrium, trace the Water of Life Ceremony from its ancient Terran roots to the ritual which formed the catalyst enabling a woman to become one of the Elect. That the ceremony and the subsequent progression of transcendence was irrevocably changed by the Lady Jessica's participation in the Fremen Ceremony of the Seed is unquestionable. Not only was Jessica brought into conjunction with her own heritage of Reverend Mothers, but she was also united with the long line of Fremen Reverend Mothers, all without the benefit of the usual years of discipline and training. Until that time, the "poison" used at the Water of Life Ceremony varied with cultural traditions, but its effect had been dependent upon the individual's own preparation for the harmonious Self. Just as melange served only to enhance the trained "sight" of some Reverend Mothers, so did the "poison" of the traditional ceremony serve to focus the transcendence and union of the one with the All. With the introduction of the Fremen Water of Life, the poison created by a drowning "maker," the strength of the catalyst changed. Increased dependence on the Fremen poison and decreased dependence on the arduous training disciplines gradually weakened the rigor of the order. Thus, the discovery of the Athanor Proctrices and the Exerci Animae gives us a much clearer understanding of the true office of the Reverend Mothers, before the time that the Ordines Matrium appendix refers to as the "Atreides Corruption."
It is likely that the universal vow of a Reverend Mother — "Sciente ipsem scit omnem" — originated with the founding Mother herself, whose ancestry had been traced to the Great Mother. Clearly, the motto reflects the objectives of the five ordinances undertaken by all Reverend Mothers, as outlined in the authoritative Athanor Proctrices: "She has plumbed the dark night of being and survived; she has seen the Truth and been made strong; she has been bound in limited self and escaped; she has faced her own enemy and emerged victorious; she has borne the burden of grief and not succumbed. She is witness that 'In the Self is the All.'"1
The stated aim of the Bene Gesserit training program was to develop a form of mental exercise that would enable the practitioner to gain a mode of consciousness unavailable to those who lacked either the gift or the training. This altered mode of consciousness, a profoundly heightened view of reality gained by turning inward, was a prelude to perfecting the transcendental self. By this turning inward, a distinction could be achieved between the self of illusion and limited phenomenal reality, and the Self that participates in Absolute Reality, the so-called valley of infinite vision.
The official manual, Exerci Animae, prescribes a course of discipline and training for those specially gifted Bene Gesserit who are the chosen. The program is geared to producing a perfect harmonious union of self and Self, of becoming and Become, of sensation and Illumination in the mind of the accomplished practitioner. The Introduction to these "spiritual exercises"-promises that all perception will eventually be successive yet simultaneous, limited yet infinite. But it sounds a cautionary note
as well:
Care must be taken to keep a tight control on the blossoming transcendental consciousness lest it come unbidden, without the manifest will having called upon it. Such an instability could be dangerous, leading to seriously reduced effectiveness of the practitioner who must necessarily plan all action and reaction with disciplined intention. Phenomenal consciousness cannot function at the mercy of an intenser plane of consciousness that could supersede it involuntarily. Unity is to be preserved so that a split or divisive apprehensive mode is rendered undesirable and ineffectual.2
More specifically, the initiate was to take part in activities that stimulated other faculties beside those of anteriority since cultivating interior modes too exclusively could drain the action of the will. The activity of will, the manual makes clear, the extended recognition of an ever-changing, often antagonistic, plurality in normal existence, and the sensitive response to stimuli, must all be exercised regularly. The trained consciousness is capable of intense concentration but this focus is not incompatible, it would seem, with an ever-widening and deepening expansion of that same consciousness. For the Reverend Mother would ideally substitute the living experience for the conceptual, social, and political schemes of those who sought her guidance as possessor of an indwelling, transforming power.
However, the process of transformation that would inaugurate a Reverend Mother, she who was both means and vessel, required three phases. In the Fundamentals of the Way, they are described as three stages: the purgation of recalcitrant selfhood; the dawning of wisdom; the reconciliation and union with all who have gone before.3 Thus, the body, soul, and spirit were purified, enlightened, and made whole. What was to result was a new and peerless power of life, with the Reverend Mother mediating between the world of appearances called reality, and the unseen world which is Reality. An equilibrium was thought to be established in this way, with Reverend Mother the ritual center.
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