himself had drained the last of the wealth from this system. New Face Dancers walked as Ixians among the no- ship's crew but Waff still sweated the first encounter. If these Honored Matres were truly more terrible than the Bene Gesserit witches, would the exchange of Face Dancers for Ixian crewmen be detected?
Selection of this meeting place and the arrangements had put a strain on the Tleilaxu. Was it secure? He reassured himself that he carried two sealed weapons never before seen off the Tleilaxu core planets. The weapons were the painstaking result of long effort by his artificers: two minuscule dart throwers concealed in his sleeves. He had trained with them for years until the flipping of the sleeves and the discharge of the poisoned darts was almost an instinctive reflex.
The walls of the meeting room were properly copper-toned, evidence that they were shielded from Ixian spy devices. But what instruments might the people of the Scattering have developed beyond the Ixian ken?
Waff entered the room with a hesitant step. The Honored Matre already was there seated in a leather sling chair.
'You will call me what everyone else calls me,' she greeted him. 'Honored Matre.'
He bowed as he had been warned to do. 'Honored Matre.'
No hint of hidden powers in her voice. A low contralto with overtones that spoke of disdain for him. She looked like an aged athlete or acrobat, slowed and retired but still maintaining her muscle tone and some of her skills. Her face was tight skin over a skull with prominent cheekbones. The thin-lipped mouth produced a sense of arrogance when she spoke, as though every word were projected downward onto lesser folk.
'Well, come in and sit down!' she commanded, waving at a sling chair facing her.
Waff heard the hatch hiss closed behind him. He was alone with her! She was wearing a snooper. He could see the lead for it going into her left ear. His dart throwers had been sealed and 'washed' against snoopers, then maintained at minus 340 Kelvin in a radiation bath for five SY to make them proof against snoopers. Had it been enough?
Gently, he lowered himself into the indicated chair.
Orange-tinted contact lenses covered the Honored Matre's eyes, giving them a feral appearance. She was altogether daunting. And her clothing! Red leotards beneath a dark blue cape. The surface of the cape had been decorated with some pearly material to produce strange arabesques and dragon designs. She sat in the chair as though it were a throne, her clawlike hands resting easily on the arms.
Waff glanced around the room. His people had inspected this place in company with Ixian maintenance workers and representatives of the Honored Matre.
We have done our best, he thought, and he tried to relax.
The Honored Matre laughed.
Waff stared at her with as calm an expression as he could muster. 'You are gauging me now,' he accused. 'You say to yourself that you have enormous resources to employ against me, subtle and gross instruments to carry out your commands.'
'Do not take that tone with me.' The words were low and flat but carried such a weight of venom that Waff almost recoiled.
He stared at the stringy muscles of the woman's legs, that deep red leotard fabric which flowed over her skin as though it were organic to her.
Their meeting time had been adjusted to bring them together at a mutually personal mid-morning, their waking hours having been balanced en route. Waff felt dislocated, though, and at a disadvantage. What if the stories of his informants were true? She must have weapons here.
She smiled at him without humor.
'You are trying to intimidate me,' Waff said.
'And succeeding.' Anger surged through Waff. He kept this from his voice. 'I have come at your invitation.'
'I hope you did not come to engage in a confrontation that you would surely lose,' she said.
'I came to forge a bond between us,' he said. And he wondered: What do they need from us? Surely they must need something.
'What bond can there be between us?' she asked. 'Would you build an edifice on a disintegrating raft? Hah! Agreements can be broken and often are.'
'For what tokens do we bargain?' he asked.
'Bargain? I do not bargain. I am interested in this ghola you made for the witches.' Her tone gave away nothing but Waff's heartbeat quickened at her question.
In one of his ghola lifetimes, Waff had trained under a renegade Mentat. The capabilities of a Mentat were beyond him and besides, reasoning required words. They had been forced to kill the powindah Mentat but there had been some things of value in the experience. Waff allowed himself a small moue of distaste at the memory but he recalled the things of value.
Attack and absorb the data that attack produces!
'You offer me nothing in exchange!' he said, his voice loud.
'Recompense is at my discretion,' she said.
Waff produced a scornful gaze. 'Do you play with me?'
She showed white teeth in a feral grin. 'You would not survive my play, nor want to.'
'So I must be dependent upon your good will!'
'Dependency!' The word curled from her mouth as though it produced a distasteful sensation. 'Why do you sell these gholas to the witches and then kill the gholas?'
Waff pressed his lips together and remained silent..
'You have somehow changed this ghola while still making it possible for him to regain his original memories,' she said.
'You know so much!' Waff said. It was not quite a sneer and, he hoped, revealed nothing. Spies! She had spies among the witches! Was there also a traitor in the Tleilaxu heartlands?
'There is a girl-child on Rakis who figures in the plans of the witches,' the Honored Matre said.
'How do you know this?'
'The witches do not make a move without our knowing! You think of spies but you cannot know how far our arms will reach!'
Waff was dismayed. Could she read his mind? Was it something born of the Scattering? A wild talent from out there where the original human seed could not observe?
'How have you changed this ghola?' she demanded.
Voice!
Waff, armed against such devices by his Mentat teacher, almost blurted an answer. This Honored Matre had some of the witches' powers! It had been so unexpected coming from her. You expected such things from a Reverend Mother and were prepared. He was a moment recovering his balance. Waff steepled his hands in front of his chin.
'You have interesting resources,' she said.
A gamin expression came over Waff's features. He knew how disarmingly elflike he could look.
Attack!
'We know how much you have learned from the Bene Gesserit,' he said.
A look of rage swept over her face and was gone. 'They have taught us nothing!'
Waff pitched his voice at a humorously appealing level, cajoling. 'Surely, this is not bargaining.'
'Isn't it?' She actually appeared surprised.
Waff lowered his hands. 'Come now, Honored Matre. You are interested in this ghola. You speak of things on Rakis. What do you take us for?'
'Very little. You become less valuable by the instant.'
Waff sensed the coldest machine logic in her response. There was no smell of Mentat in it but something more chilling. She is capable of killing me right here!
Where were her weapons? Would she even require weapons? He did not like the look of those stringy muscles, the calluses on her hands, the hunter's gleam in her orange eyes. Could she possibly guess (or even know) about the dart throwers in his sleeves?
'We are confronted by a problem that cannot be resolved by logical means,' she said.
Waff stared at her in shock. A Zensunni Master might have said that! He had said it himself on more than one
