"Isn't someone coming to help me?" Teg demanded. More desperation in his voice than predicted for this stage. "Where's Duncan Idaho?"
Odrade put a hand on Idaho's arm as he hitched forward. "Stay where you are, Duncan. You can't help him, either. Not yet."
"Isn't someone going to tell me what to do?" The young voice had a lonely, piping sound. "What're you going to do?"
Sheeana's cue and she entered the room through a hidden hatch behind Teg. "Here I am." She wore only a gossamer robe of pale blue, almost transparent. It clung to her as she strode around to face the boy.
He gawked. This was a Reverend Mother? He had never seen one robed that way. "You're going to give me back my memories?" Doubt and desperation.
"I will help you give them back to yourself." As she spoke, she slipped out of the robe and tossed it aside. It floated to the floor like a great blue butterfly.
Teg stared at her. "What're you doing?"
"What do you think I'm doing?" She sat down beside him and put a hand on his penis.
His head tipped forward as though pushed from behind and he stared at her hand as an erection formed in it.
"Why're you doing that?"
"Don't you know?"
"No!"
"The Bashar would know."
He looked up at her face so close to his. "You know! Why won't you tell me?"
"I'm not your memory!"
"Why're you humming like that?"
She put her lips against his neck. The humming was clear to the watchers. Murbella called it an intensifier, feedback keyed to the sexual response. It grew louder.
"What're you doing?" Almost a shriek as she sat him astraddle of her. She swayed, massaging the small of his back.
"Answer me, damn you!" A definite shriek.
Where did that "damn you!" come from? Odrade wondered.
Sheeana slipped him into her. "Here's your answer!"
His mouth formed a soundless "Ohhhhhhhhh."
The watchers saw her concentration on Teg's eyes but Sheeana watched him with other senses as well.
"Feel the tensing of his thighs, the telltale vagus pulse and especially note the darkening of his nipples. When you have him at that point, sustain it until his pupils dilate."
"Imprinter!" Teg's scream made the watchers jump.
He beat his fists against Sheeana's shoulders. All of them at the seewall observed an inner flickering of his eyes as he twisted back and forth, something new peering out of him.
Odrade was on her feet. "Has something gone wrong?"
Idaho remained in his chair. "What I predicted."
Sheeana thrust Teg away to escape his clawing fingers.
He sprawled to the floor and whirled with a speed that shocked the watchers. Sheeana and Teg confronted each other for several long heartbeats. Slowly, he straightened and only then did he look down at himself. Presently, he lifted his attention to his left arm held in front of him. His gaze went to the ceiling, to each wall in turn. Again, he looked at his body.
"What in the nether hell..." Still childish piping but oddly matured.
"Welcome, ghola-Bashar," Sheeana said.
"You were trying to imprint me!" Angry accusation. "You think my mother didn't teach me how to prevent that?" A distant expression came over his face. "Ghola?"
"Some prefer to think of you as a clone."
"Who're... Sheeana!" He whirled, looking all around the room. It had been selected for its concealed access, no visible hatches. "Where are we?"
"In the no-ship you took to Dune just before you were killed there." Still according to the rules.
"Killed..." Again, he looked at his hands. Watchers could almost see ghola-imposed filters drop from his memories. "I was killed... on Dune?" Almost plaintive.
"Heroic to the end," Sheeana said.
"My... the men I took from Gammu... were they..."
"Honored Matres made an example of Dune. It's a lifeless ball, charred to cinders."
Anger touched his features. He sat and crossed his legs, placing a clenched fist on each knee. "Yes... I learned that in the history of the... of me." Again, he glanced at Sheeana. She remained seated on the mat, quite still. This was such a plunge into memories as only one who had been through the Agony could appreciate. Utter stillness was required now.
Odrade whispered: "Don't interfere, Sheeana. Let it happen. Let him work it out." She made a hand-signal to the three Proctors. They went to the access hatch, watching her instead of the secret room.
"I find it odd to consider myself a subject of history," Teg said. The child's voice but that recurring sense of maturity in it. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
In the observation room, Odrade sank back into her chair and asked: "What did you see, Duncan?"
"When Sheeana pushed him away from her, he turned with a swiftness I have never seen except in Murbella."
"Faster even than that."
"Perhaps... it's because his body is young and we have given him prana-bindu training."
"Something else. You alerted us, Duncan. An unknown in Atreides marker cells." She glanced at the watchful Proctors and shook her head. No. Not yet. "Damn that mother of his! Hypnoinduction to block an Imprinter and she hid it from us."
"But look what she gave us," Idaho said. "A more effective way to restore memories."
"We should have seen that on our own!" Odrade felt anger at herself. "Scytale claims Tleilaxu used pain and confrontation. I wonder."
"Ask him. "