'That's important?' Really puzzled. Look at her scowl.
'Only to you, Honored Matre.'
'Great Honored Matre!' Isn't she touchy!
'Why don't you permit me to call you Dama?'
'We're not intimates.'
'Is Futar an intimate?'
'Stop changing the subject!'
'Want tooth clean,' the Futar said.
'You shut up!' Really blazing.
The Futar sank to its haunches but it was not cowed.
Great Honored Matre turned her orange gaze toward Lucilla. 'What about bureaucrats?'
'They have no room to maneuver because that's the way their superiors grow fat. If you don't see the difference between regulation and law, both have the force of law.'
'I see no difference.' She doesn't know what she reveals.
'Laws convey the myth of enforced change. A bright new future will come because of this law or that one. Laws enforce the future. Regulations are believed to enforce the past.'
'Believed?' She doesn't like that word, either.
'In each instance, action is illusory. Like appointing a committee to study a problem. The more people on the committee, the more preconceptions applied to the problem.'
Careful! She's really thinking about this, applying it to herself.
Lucilla pitched her voice in its most reasonable tones. 'You live by a past-magnified and try to understand some unrecognized future.'
'We don't believe in prescience.' Yes, she does! At last. This is why she keeps us alive.
'Dama, please. There's always something unbalanced about confining yourself to a tight circle of laws.'
Be careful! She didn't bridle at your calling her Dama.
Great Honored Matre's chair creaked as she shifted in it. 'But laws are necessary!'
'Necessary? That's dangerous.'
'How so?'
Softly. She feels threatened.
'Necessary rules and laws keep you from adapting. Inevitably, everything comes crashing down. It's like bankers thinking they buy the future. 'Power in my time! To hell with my descendants!' '
'What are descendants doing for me?'
Don't say it! Look at her. She's reacting out of the common insanity. Give her another small taste.
'Honored Matres originated as terrorists. Bureaucrats first and terror as your chosen weapon.'
'When it's in your hands, use it. But we were rebels. Terrorists? That's too chaotic.'
She likes that word 'chaos.' It defines everything on the outside. She doesn't even ask how you know her origins. She accepts our mysterious abilities.
'Isn't it odd, Dama... ' No reaction; continue. '... how rebels all too soon fall into old patterns if they are victorious? It's not so much a pitfall in the path of all governments as it is a delusion waiting for anyone who gains power.'
'Hah! And I thought you would tell me something new. We know that one: 'Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.' '
'Wrong, Dama. Something more subtle but far more pervasive: Power attracts the corruptible.'
'You dare accuse me of being corrupt?'
Watch the eyes!
'I? Accuse you? The only one who can do that is yourself. I merely give you the Bene Gesserit opinion.'
'And tell me nothing!'
'Yet we believe there's a morality above any law, which must stand watchdog on all attempts at unchanging regulation.'
You used both words in one sentence and she didn't notice.
'Power always works, witch. That's the law.'
'And governments that perpetuate themselves long enough under that belief always become packed with corruption.'
'Morality!'
She's not very good at sarcasm, especially when she's on the defensive.
'I've really tried to help you, Dama. Laws are dangerous to everyone - innocent and guilty alike. No matter whether you believe yourself powerful or helpless. They have no human understanding in and of themselves.'
'There's no such thing as human understanding!'
Our question is answered. Not human. Talk to her unconscious side. She's wide open.
'Laws must always be interpreted. The law-bound want no latitude for compassion. No elbow room. 'The law is the law!'' 'It is!' Very defensive.
'That's a dangerous idea, especially for the innocent. People know this instinctively and resent such laws. Little things are done, often unconsciously, to hamstring 'the law' and those who deal in that nonsense.'
'How dare you call it nonsense?' Half rising from her chair and sinking back.
'Oh, yes. And the law, personified by all whose livelihoods depend on it, becomes resentful hearing words such as mine.'
'Rightly so, witch!' But she doesn't tell you to be silent.
' 'More law!' you say. 'We need more law!' So you make new instruments of non-compassion and, incidentally, new niches of employment for those who feed on the system.'
'That's the way it's always been and always will be.'
'Wrong again. It's a rondo. It rolls and rolls until it injures the wrong person or the wrong group. Then you get anarchy. Chaos.' See her jump? 'Rebels, terrorists, increasing outbursts of raging violence. A jihad! And all because you created something nonhuman.'
Hand on her chin. Watch it!
'How did we wander so far away from politics, witch? Was this your intention?'
'We haven't wandered a fraction of a millimeter!'
'I suppose you're going to tell me you witches practice a form of democracy.'
'With an alertness you cannot imagine.'
'Try me.' She thinks you'll tell her a secret. Tell her one.
'Democracy is susceptible to being led astray by having scapegoats paraded in front of the electorate. Get the rich, the greedy, the criminals, the stupid leader and so on ad nauseam.'
'You believe as we do.' My! How desperately she wants us to be like her.
'You said you were bureaucrats who rebelled. You know the flaw. A top-heavy bureaucracy the electorate cannot touch always expands to the system's limits of energy. Steal it from the aged, from the retired, from anyone. Especially from those we once called middle class because that's where most of the energy originates.'
'You think of yourselves as... as middle class?'
'We don't think of ourselves in any fixed way. But Other Memory tells us the flaws of bureaucracy. I presume you have some form of civil service for the 'lower orders.' '
'We take care of our own.' That's a nasty echo.
'Then you know how that dilutes the vote. Chief symptom: People don't vote. Instinct tells them it's useless.'
'Democracy is a stupid idea anyway!'
'We agree. It's demagogue-prone. That's a disease to which electoral systems are vulnerable. Yet demagogues are easy to identify. They gesture a lot and speak with pulpit rhythms, using words that ring of religious fervor and god-fearing sincerity.'
She's chuckling!
'Sincerity with nothing behind it takes so much practice, Dama. The practice can always be detected.'
'By Truthsayers?'
