"Will Patrin kill her?"
"I don't know nor do I care!"
Outside the door, Schwangyu spoke with anger, her voice loud and quite clear: "Are we just going to wait here, Bashar?"
"You can leave anytime you wish." That was Teg.
"But I can't enter the south tunnel!"
Schwangyu sounded petulant. Lucilla knew it for something the old woman did deliberately. What was she planning? Teg must be very cautious now. He had been clever out there, revealing for Lucilla the gaps in Schwangyu's control, but they had not plumbed Schwangyu's resources. Lucilla wondered if she should leave Duncan here and return to Teg's side.
Teg said: "You can go now but I advise you not to return to your quarters."
"And why not?" Schwangyu sounded surprised, really surprised and not covering it well.
"One moment," Teg said.
Lucilla became aware of shouting at a distance. A heavy thumping explosion sounded from nearby and then another one more distant. Dust sifted from the cornice above the door to Teg's sitting room.
"What was that?" Schwangyu again, her voice overly loud.
Lucilla moved to place herself between Duncan and the wall to the hallway.
Duncan stared at the door, his body poised for defense.
"That first blast was what I expected them to do." Teg again. "The second, I fear, was what they did not expect."
A whistle piped nearby loud enough to cover something Schwangyu said.
"That's it Bashar!" Patrin.
"What is happening?" Schwangyu demanded.
"The first explosion, dear Reverend Mother, was your quarters being destroyed by our attackers. The second explosion was us destroying the attackers."
"I just got the signal, Bashar!" Patrin again. "We got them all. They came down by floater from the no-ship just as you expected."
"The ship?" Teg's voice was full of angry demand.
"Destroyed the instant it came through the space fold. No survivors."
"You fools!" Schwangyu screamed. "Do you know what you've done?"
"I carried out my orders to protect that boy from any attack," Teg said. "By the way, weren't you supposed to be in your quarters at this hour?"
"What?"
"They were after you when they blasted your quarters. The Tleilaxu are very dangerous, Reverend Mother."
"I don't believe you!"
"I suggest you go look. Patrin, let her pass."
As she listened, Lucilla heard the unspoken argument. The Mentat Bashar had been trusted here more than a Reverend Mother and Schwangyu knew it. She would be desperate. That was clever, suggesting her quarters had been destroyed. She might not believe it, though. Foremost in Schwangyu's mind now would be the realization that both Teg and Lucilla recognized her complicity in the attack. There was no telling how many others were aware of this. Patrin knew, of course.
Duncan stared at the closed door, his head tipped slightly to the right. There was a curious expression on his face, as though he saw through the door and actually watched the people out there.
Schwangyu spoke, the most careful control in her voice. "I don't believe my quarters were destroyed." She knew Lucilla was listening.
"There is only one way to make sure," Teg said.
Clever! Lucilla thought. Schwangyu could not make a decision until she was certain whether the Tleilaxu had acted treacherously.
"You will wait here for me, then! That's an order!" Lucilla heard the swish of Schwangyu's robes as the Reverend Mother departed.
Very bad emotional control, Lucilla thought. What this revealed about Teg, though, was equally disturbing. He did it to her! Teg had kept a Reverend Mother off balance.
The door in front of Duncan swung open. Teg stood there, one hand on the latch. "Quick!" Teg said. "We must be out of the Keep before she returns."
"Out of the Keep?" Lucilla did not hide her shock.
"Quick, I say! Patrin has prepared a way for us."
"But I must --"
"You must nothing! Come as you are. Follow me or we will be forced to take you."
"Do you really think you could take a . . ." Lucilla broke off. This was a new Teg in front of her and she knew he would not have made such a threat unless he was prepared to carry it out.
"Very well," she said. She took Duncan's hand and followed Teg out of his quarters.
Patrin stood in the hallway looking to his right. "She's gone," the old man said. He looked at Teg. "You know what to do, Bashar?"
"Pat!"
Lucilla had never before heard Teg use the batman's diminutive name.
Patrin grinned, a gleaming full-toothed smile. "Sorry, Bashar. The excitement, you know. I'll leave you to it, then. I have my part to play."
Teg waved Lucilla and Duncan down the hallway to the right. She obeyed and heard Teg close on her heels. Duncan's hand was sweaty in her hand. He pulled free and strode beside her without looking back.
The suspensor-drop at the end of the hallway was guarded by two of Teg's own people. He nodded to them. "Nobody follows."
They spoke in unison: "Right, Bashar."
Lucilla realized as she entered the drop with Duncan and Teg that she had chosen sides in a dispute whose workings she did not fully understand. She could feel the movements of the Sisterhood's politics like a swift current of water pouring all around her. Usually, the movement remained mostly a gentle wave washing the strand, but now she sensed a great destructive surge preparing to thunder its surf upon her.
Duncan spoke as they emerged into the sorting chamber for the south pillbox.
"We should all be armed," he said.
"We will be very soon," Teg said. "And I hope you're prepared to kill anyone who tries to stop us."
The significant fact is this: No Bene Tleilax female has ever been seen away from the protection of their core planets. (Face Dancer mules who simulate females do not count in this analysis. They cannot be breeders.) The Tleilaxu sequester their females to keep them from our hands. This is our primary deduction. It must also be in the eggs that the Tleilaxu Masters conceal their most essential secrets.
-Bene Gesserit Analysis -- Archives #XOXTM99 ..... 041
"So we meet at last," Taraza said.
She stared across the two meters of open space between their chairs at Tylwyth Waff. Her analysts assured her that this man was Tleilaxu Master of Masters. What an elfin little figure he was to hold so much power. The prejudices of appearance must be discarded here, she warned herself.
"Some would not believe this possible," Waff said.
He had a piping little voice, Taraza noted; something else to be measured by different standards.
They sat in the neutrality of a Guild no-ship with Bene Gesserit and Tleilaxu monitors clinging to the Guildship's hull like predatory birds on a carcass. (The Guild had been cravenly anxious to placate the Bene Gesserit. "You will pay." The Guild knew. Payment had been exacted from them before.) The small oval room in which they met was conventionally copper-walled and "spy-proof." Taraza did not believe this for an instant. She presumed also that the bonds between Guild and Tleilaxu, forged of melange, still existed in full force.
Waff did not try to delude himself about Taraza. This woman was far more dangerous than any Honored Matre. If he killed Taraza, she would be replaced immediately by someone just as dangerous, someone with every essential piece of information possessed by the present Mother Superior.
"We find your new Face Dancers very interesting," Taraza said.
Waff grimaced involuntarily. Yes, far more dangerous than the Honored Matres, who were not yet even blaming the Tleilaxu for the loss of an entire no-ship.
Taraza glanced at the small double-faced digital clock on the low side table at her right, a position where the clock could be read easily by either of them. The Waff-side face had been matched to his internal clock. She noted that the two internal-time readings stood within ten seconds of synchronization at an arbitrary midafternoon. It was one of the niceties o
f this confrontation where even the positioning and spacing between their chairs had been specified in the arrangements.
The two of them were alone in the room. The oval space around them was about six meters in its long dimension, half that in width. They occupied identical sling chairs of peg-fastened wood, which supported orange fabric; not a bit of metal or other foreign material in either of them. The only other furnishing of the room was the side table with its clock. The table was a thin black surface of plaz on three spindly wooden legs. Each of the principals in this meeting had been snooped with care. Each had three personal guards outside the room's one hatch. Taraza did not think the Tleilaxu would try a Face Dancer exchange, not under the present circumstances!
"You will pay."
The Tleilaxu, too, were extremely aware of their vulnerability, especially now that they knew a Reverend Mother could expose the new Face Dancers.
Waff cleared his throat. "I do not expect us to reach an agreement," he said.
"Then why did you come?"
"I seek an explanation of this odd message we have received from your Keep on Rakis. For what are we supposed to pay?"
"I beg of you, Ser Waff, drop these foolish pretenses in this room. There are facts known to both of us that cannot be avoided."
"Such as?"
"No female of the Bene Tleilax has ever been provided to us for breeding." And she thought: Let him sweat that one! It was damnably frustrating not to have a line of Tleilaxu Other Memories for Bene Gesserit investigation and Waff would know it.
Waff scowled. "Surely you don't think I would bargain with the life of --" He broke off and shook his head. "I cannot believe this is the payment you would ask."
When Taraza did not respond, Waff said: "The stupid attack on the Rakian temple was undertaken independently by people on the scene. They have been punished."
Expected gambit number three, Taraza thought.
She had participated in numerous analysis-briefings before this meeting, if one could call them briefings. Analyses there had been in excess. Very little was known about this Tleilaxu Master, this Tylwyth Waff. Some extremely important optional projections had been arrived at by inference (if these proved to be true). The trouble was that some of the most interesting data came from unreliable sources. One salient fact could be depended upon, however: The elfin figure seated across from her was deadly dangerous.
Waff's gambit number three engaged her attention. It was time to respond. Taraza produced a knowing smile.
"That is precisely the kind of lie we expected from you," she said.
"Do we begin with insults?" He spoke without heat.
"You set the pattern. Let me warn you that you will not be able to deal with us the way you dealt with those whores from the Scattering."
Waff's frozen stare invited Taraza to a daring gambit. The Sisterhood's deductions, based partly on the disappearance of an Ixian conference ship, were accurate! Maintaining her same smile, she now pursued the optional conjecture line as though it were known fact. "I think," she said, "the whores might like to learn that they have had Face Dancers among them."
Waff suppressed his anger. These damnable witches! They knew! Somehow, they knew! His councillors had been extremely doubtful about this meeting. A substantial minority had recommended against it. The witches were so . . . so devilish. And their retaliations!
Time to shift his attention to Gammu, Taraza thought. Keep him off balance. She said: "Even when you subvert one of us, as you did with Schwangyu on Gammu, you learn nothing of value!"
Waff flared: "She thought to . . . to hire us like a band of assassins! We only taught her a lesson!"
Ahhhh, his pride shows itself, Taraza thought. Interesting. The implications of a moral structure behind such pride must be explored.
"You've never really penetrated our ranks," Taraza said.
"And you have never penetrated the Tleilaxu!" Waff managed to produce this boast with passable calm. He needed time to think! To plan!
"Perhaps you would like to know the price of our silence," Taraza suggested. She took Waff's stony glare for agreement and added: "For one thing, you will share with us everything you learn about those Scattering-spawned whores who call themselves Honored Matres."
Waff shuddered. Much had been confirmed by killing the Honored Matres. The sexual intricacies! Only the strongest psyche could resist entanglement in such ecstasies. The potential of this tool was enormous! Must that be shared with these witches?
"Everything you learn from them," Taraza insisted.
"Why do you call them whores?"
"They try to copy us, yet they sell themselves for power and make a mockery of everything we represent. Honored Matres!"
"They outnumber you at least ten thousand to one! We have seen the evidence."
"One of us could defeat them all," Taraza said.
Waff sat in silence, studying her. Was that merely a boast? You could never be sure when it came to the Bene Gesserit witches. They did things. The dark side of the magic universe belonged to them. On more than one occasion the witches had blunted the Shariat. Was it God's will that the true believers pass through another trial?
Taraza allowed the silence to continue building its own tensions. She sensed Waff's turmoil. It reminded her of the Sisterhood's preliminary conference in preparation for this meeting with him. Bellonda had asked the question of deceptive simplicity:
"What do we really know about the Tleilaxu?"
Taraza had felt the answer surge into every mind around the Chapter House conference table: We may know for sure only what they want us to know.
None of her analysts could avoid the suspicion that the Tleilaxu had deliberately created a masking-image of themselves. Tleilaxu intelligence had to be measured against the fact that they alone controlled the secret of the axlotl tanks. Was that a lucky accident as some suggested? Then why had others been unable to duplicate this accomplishment in all of these millennia?
Gholas.
Were the Tleilaxu using the ghola process for their own kind of immortality? She could see suggestive hints in Waff's actions . . . nothing definite but highly suspicious.
At the Chapter House conferences, Bellonda had returned repeatedly to their basic suspicions, hammering at them: "All of it . . . all of it, I say! Everything in our archives could be garbage fit only for slig fodder!"
This allusion had caused some of the more relaxed Reverend Mothers around the table to shudder.
Sligs!
Those slowly creeping crosses between giant slugs and pigs might provide meat for some of the most expensive meals in their universe but the creatures themselves embodied everything the Sisterhood held repugnant about the Tleilaxu. Sligs had been one of the earliest Bene Tleilax barter items, a product grown in their tanks and formed with the helical core from which all life took its shapes. That the Bene Tleilax made them added to the aura of obscenity around a creature whose multimouths ground incessantly on almost any garbage, passing that garbage swiftly into excrement that not only smelled of the sty but was slimy.
"The sweetest meat this side of heaven," Bellonda had quoted from a CHOAM promotion.
"And it comes from obscenity," Taraza had added.
Obscenity.
Taraza thought of this as she stared at Waff. For what possible reason might people build around themselves a mask of obscenity? Waff's flare of pride could not be fitted neatly into that image.
Waff coughed lightly into his hand. He felt the pressure of the seams where he had concealed two of his potent dart-throwers. The minority among his councillors had advised: "As with the Honored Matres, the winner in this encounter with the Bene Gesserit will be the one who emerges carrying the most secret information about the other. Death of the opponent guarantees success."
I might kill her but what then?
Three more full Reverend Mothers waited outside that hatch. Doubtless Taraza had a signal prepared for the instant the hatch was opened. Without that signal, v
iolence and disaster were sure to ensue. He did not believe for an instant that even his new Face Dancers could overcome those Reverend Mothers out there. The witches would be on full alert. They would have recognized the nature of Waff's guards.
"We will share," Waff said. The admissions implicit in this hurt him but he knew he had no alternatives. Taraza's brag about relative abilities might be inaccurate because of its extreme claim, but he sensed truth in it nonetheless. He had no illusions, however, about what would ensue if the Honored Matres learned what had actually happened to their envoys. The missing no-ship could not yet be laid at the Tleilaxu door. Ships did vanish. Deliberate assassination was another matter altogether. The Honored Matres surely would try to exterminate such a brash opponent. If only as an example. Tleilaxu returned from the Scattering said as much. Having seen Honored Matres, Waff now believed those stories.
Frank Herbert - Dune Book 5 - Heretics of Dune Page 21
