The force of extremis that made Sharing possible dictated powerful changes in personality and Odrade knew this with an intimacy that compelled tolerance. Whatever it was Sheeana concealed, Tam also concealed. Something tied to Sheeana's basic humanity. And Tam could be trusted. Until another Sister Shared with one of them, Tam's judgment must be accepted. Not that watchdogs would cease probing and observing minutiae but they needed no new crisis just now.
"This is Murbella's day," Odrade said.
"The odds are long she won't survive," Bellonda said, hunched forward in her chairdog. "What happens to our precious plan then?"
Our plan!
"Extremis," Odrade said.
In that context, it was a word with several meanings. Bellonda interpreted it as a possibility of acquiring Murbella's persona-memories at the moment of her death. "Then we must not permit Idaho to observe!"
"My order stands," Odrade said. "It's Murbella's wish and I have given my word."
"Mistake... mistake..." Bellonda muttered.
Odrade knew the source of Bellonda's doubts. Visible to all of them: Somewhere in Murbella lay something extremely painful. It caused her to shy away from certain questions like an animal confronted by a predator. Whatever it was, the thing went deep. Hypnotrance induction might not explain it.
"All right!" Odrade spoke loudly to emphasize it was for all of her listeners. "It's not the way we've ever done it before. But we cannot take Duncan from the ship so we must go to him. He will be present."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bellonda was still well and truly shocked. No man, barring the damned Kwisatz Haderach himself and his Tyrant son, had ever known the particulars of this Bene Gesserit secret. Both of those monsters had felt the Agony. Two disasters! No matter that the Tyrant's Agony had worked its way inward a cell at a time to transform him into a sandworm symbiote (no more original worm, no more original human). And Muad'Dib! He dared the Agony and look what came of that!
Sheeana turned from the window and took one step toward the table, giving Odrade the curious feeling that the two women standing there had become a Janus figure: back to back but only one persona.
"Bell is confused by your promise," Sheeana said. How soft her voice.
"He could be the catalyst to pull Murbella through," Odrade said. "You tend to underestimate the power of love."
"No!" Tamalane spoke to the window in front of her. "We fear its power."
"Could be!" Bell still was scornful but that came naturally to her. The expression on her face said she remained implacably stubborn.
"Hubris," Sheeana murmured.
"What?" Bellonda whirled in her chairdog, causing it to squeak with indignation.
"We share a common failing with Scytale," Sheeana said.
"Oh?" Bellonda was gnawing at Sheeana's secret.
"We think we make history," Sheeana said. She returned to her position beside Tamalane, both of them staring out the window.
Bellonda returned her attention to Odrade. "Do you understand that?"
Odrade ignored her. Let the Mentat work it out for herself. The projector on the worktable clicked and a message was displayed. Odrade reported it. "Still not ready at the ship." She looked at those two rigid backs in front of the window.
History?
On Chapterhouse, there had been little of what Odrade liked to think of as history-making before the Honored Matres. Only the steady graduation of Reverend Mothers passing through the Agony.
Like a river.
It flowed and it went somewhere. You could stand on the bank (as Odrade sometimes thought they did here) and you could observe the flow. A map might tell you where the river went but no map could reveal more essential things. A map could never show intimate movements of the river's cargo. Where did they go? Maps had limited value in this age. A printout or projection from Archives; that was not the map they required. There had to be a better one somewhere, one attached to all of those lives. You could carry that map in your memory and have it out occasionally for a closer look.
Whatever happened to the Reverend Mother Perinte we sent out last year?
The map-in-the-mind would take over and create a "Perinte Scenario." It was really yourself on the river, of course, but this made little difference. It still was the map they needed.
We don't like it that we're caught in someone else's currents, that we don't know what may be revealed at the river's next bend. We always prefer overflight even though any commanding position must remain part of other currents. Every flow contains unpredictable things.
Odrade looked up to see her three companions watching her. Tamalane and Sheeana had turned their backs to the window.
"Honored Matres have forgotten that clinging to any form of conservatism can be dangerous," Odrade said. "Have we forgotten it as well?"
They continued to stare at her but they had heard. Become too conservative and you were unprepared for surprises. That was what Muad'Dib had taught them, and his Tyrant son had made the lesson forever unforgettable.
Bellonda's glum expression did not change.
In the deep recesses of Odrade's consciousness, Taraza whispered: "Careful, Dar. I was lucky. Quick to grab advantage. Just as you are. But you cannot depend on luck and that is what bothers them. Don't even expect luck. Much better to trust your water images. Let Bell have her say."
"Bell," Odrade said, "I thought you accepted Duncan."
"Within limits." Definitely accusatory.
"I think we should go out to the ship." Sheeana spoke with demanding emphasis. "This is not the place to wait. Do we fear what she may become?"