[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Sisterhood had been erected here, dating from post-Butlerian Jihad days at the
beginnings of the great schools of the human mind.
Some of the buildings in the training enclave were thousands of years old and
echoed with ghosts and memories; others had been constructed in more recent
centuries, with styles carefully designed to match the originals. The bucolic
appearance of the Mother School complex fostered one of the primary precepts of
the Sisterhood: minimal appearance, maximum content. Anirul's own features
were long and narrow, giving her a doelike face, but her large eyes had a depth
of millennia in them.
The half-timbered stucco-and-wood structures, a combination of classical
architectural styles, had moss-streaked sienna roof tiles and beveled fume-
enhancement windows, designed to concentrate natural light and warmth from the
tiny sun. The simple, narrow streets and alleys, in tandem with the quaintly
archaic appearance of the instructional enclave, belied the subtle complexities
and sheer weight of history taught inside. Haughty visitors would not be
impressed, and the Sisterhood did not care a whit.
Throughout the Imperium the Bene Gesserit kept a low profile, but they were
always to be found in vital areas, tilting the political equilibrium at crux
points, watching, nudging, achieving their own aims. It was best when others
underestimated them; the Sisters encountered fewer obstacles that way.
With all of its superficial deficiencies and difficulties, Wallach IX remained
the perfect place to develop the psychic muscles required of Reverend Mothers.
The planet's intricate hive of structures and workers was too valuable, too
steeped in history and tradition to be replaced. Yes, there were warmer
climates on more hospitable worlds, but any acolyte who could not endure these
conditions had no place among the agonies, harsh environments, and often painful
decisions a true Bene Gesserit would face.
Keeping her quick breaths under control, Reverend Mother Anirul mounted the
rain-slick steps of the administration building, then paused to look back across
the plaza. She stood straight, tall, but she felt the weight of history and
memory bearing down on her -- and for a Bene Gesserit, there was little
difference between the two. The voices of past generations echoed in Other
Memory, a cacophony of wisdom and experience and opinions available to all
Reverend Mothers, and particularly acute in Anirul.
On this spot the first Mother Superior, Raquella Berto-Anirul -- after whom
Anirul herself had taken her name -- had delivered her legendary orations to the
embryonic Sisterhood. Raquella had forged a new school from a group of
desperate and pliable acolytes still stinging from centuries under the yoke of
thinking machines.
Did you realize what you were beginning, so long ago? Anirul asked herself.
How many plots, how many plans . . . so much you pinned upon a single, secret
hope. Sometimes, the buried presence of Mother Superior Raquella actually
answered her from within. But not today.
From her access to the multitude of memory-lives buried in her psyche, Anirul
knew the precise stairstep on which her illustrious ancestor had stood, and
could hear the exact, long-ago words. A chill coursed her spine, making her
pause. Though still young in years and smooth-skinned, she contained an Oldness
within her, as did all living Reverend Mothers -- but in her, the voices spoke
louder. It was reassuring to have the comforting crowd of memories there to
provide advice in times of need. It prevented foolish mistakes.
But Anirul would be accused of distraction and foolish delay if she did not get
to the meeting. Some said she was far too young to be the Kwisatz Mother, but
Other Memory had revealed more to her than to any other Sister. She
comprehended the precious, millennia-old genetic quest for the Kwisatz Haderach
better than the other Reverend Mothers because the past lives had revealed
everything to her, while keeping the details hidden from most Bene Gesserit.
The idea of a Kwisatz Haderach had been the Sisterhood's dream for thousands
upon thousands of years, conceived in dark underground meetings even before the
victory of the Jihad. The Bene Gesserit had many breeding programs aimed at
selecting and enhancing various characteristics of humanity, and no one
understood them all. The genetic lines of the messiah project had been the most
carefully guarded secret for much of the Imperium's recorded history, so secret
in fact that even the voices in Other Memory refused to divulge the details.
But to Anirul they had told the whole scheme, and she grasped the full
implications. Somehow she had been chosen as this generation's Kwisatz Mother,
the guardian of the Bene Gesserit's most important goal.
The notoriety and the power, however, did not excuse her for being late to the
council meetings. Many still saw her as young and impetuous.
Swinging open a heavy door covered with hieroglyphics in a language only
Reverend Mothers remembered, she passed through into a foyer where ten other
Sisters, all dressed in hooded black aba robes like her own, stood in a cluster.
A low murmur of conversation filled the air inside the nondescript building.
Treasures can be hidden within a drab and unpretentious shell, said one popular
Bene Gesserit dictum.
The other Sisters moved aside for Anirul as she glided through their midst like
a swimmer parting water. Though her body was tall and large-boned, Anirul
succeeded in projecting a grace in her movements . . . but it did not come
easily to her. Whispering, they fell in behind her as she entered the octagonal
chapter chamber, the meeting place of the ancient order's leadership. Her
footsteps creaked across the worn planks of the floor, and the door groaned
shut, locking behind them.
White Elacca-wood benches rimmed the timeworn room; Mother Superior Harishka sat
on one, like a common acolyte. Of mixed parentage, showing bloodlines from
distinctive branches of humanity, the Mother Superior was old and bent, with
dark almond eyes peering out from beneath her black hood.
The Sisters moved to the sides of the chamber and seated themselves on empty
white benches, as Mother Superior had. Presently the rustling of robes ceased,
and no one spoke. From somewhere, the old building creaked. Outside, drizzle
fell in silent curtains, muffling the struggling blue-white sunlight.
"Anirul, I await your report," Mother Superior finally said with just a glimmer
of annoyance at her tardiness. Harishka commanded the entire Sisterhood, but
Anirul was vested with full authority to make command decisions on the project.
"You have promised us your genetic summary and projections."
Anirul took her position in the center of the chamber. Overhead, a vaulted
ceiling spread like a flower to the tops of Gothic stained-glasplaz windows;
within each window section, panes contained the family crests of great
historical leaders of the order.
Fighting back nervousness, Anirul took a deep breath and suppressed the
multitude of voices within her. Many of the Bene Gesserit Order would not like
what she had to say. Though the voices of past lives might offer her comfort
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]