she had just taken. It was a matter of procedure, of constant observation and documentation, more information for the breeding files, data points with dates and places and names on them.
“And the child’s training regimen?” Mohiam looked at Margot.
“A combination of my knowledge and my husband’s, as well as instructions from her Bene Gesserit nanny. Surely Tonia has sent you detailed reports?”
Mohiam ignored the latter comment. “Good. We are glad you brought her here so that her education can continue properly. We will keep her, of course.”
“I am afraid that will, ahhh, not be possible,” her husband said, his voice as taut as a garrote.
Mohiam was taken aback. The Sisters with her stared at him. “That is not your decision.”
Smiling prettily, Margot said, “We did not bring Marie to leave her at the Mother School. She does quite well with us.”
“Ahh, quite well,” Fenring added.
Margot noted the tension in the air, saw furtive shapes moving behind windows, Sisters hurrying through the porticos. While these five Sisters were watching the little girl most closely, others had been assigned to observe Count Fenring and Margot. Subtle body movements of the three subjects would be recorded and analyzed in the most minute detail. More data points. Somewhere back there lurked the Mother Superior herself.
“This sudden intractability — has Muad’Dib enlisted you as an ally?” When Mohiam asked this, her robed companions moved closer like a small flock of black birds, as if to protect the old woman from attack.
Count Fenring laughed, but said nothing; little Marie laughed in a similar tenor.
“We do not mock you, Reverend Mother,” Margot said. “My family is merely amused at your suggestion that we might be cooperating with the man who overthrew Shaddam Corrino. You all know that my Hasimir considered the former Emperor quite a close friend.” After exchanging glances with the Count, she added, “Rather, we came in response to your summons, with an interesting proposal.”
Little Marie piped up, “The Imperium has the head of a monster, and it must be decapitated.”
The Sisters were visibly startled by such bold talk from the child. “Muad’Dib
Fenring leaned forward on the stone bench. “Is anyone more hated than the Emperor Paul-Muad’Dib, hmmm?”
Mohiam did not answer, but Lady Margot knew that the old woman loathed Paul more than most.
“Perhaps Marie can sit on the throne instead,” Margot said. “Is there anyone better bred? Better suited?”
The old Reverend Mother snapped backward. Bene Gesserits did not seize power so openly. “They will never accept a child — and a girl at that!”
“After Muad’Dib, they will be inclined to accept many things, so long as he is gone,” Fenring said.
The old woman paced, ignoring the other four Sisters, ignoring Marie. The girl stood perfectly still, watching intently, listening to everything. “You are an intriguing combination of motives and methods, Margot. Intriguing, indeed. You defy our ways and jab at our mistakes, while trying to involve us in a dangerous plot.”
“The Sisterhood must adapt and survive. It is a simple, rational conclusion. Through my husband’s experience and unique abilities, he has worked out a scenario that benefits all of us.”
Fenring bobbed his head. “There are ways we can get close to Muad’Dib, ways to make him let his guard down.”
Mohiam’s dark eyes regarded the Count with new interest. “True enough, there is a need to adapt. There is also a need for balance — that too, is one of our precepts. I would hear your proposal, but I insist that the girl be as prepared as possible. As part of any agreement, the girl must remain here for training in the Mother School.”
“Out of the question.” Margot put an arm around her daughter, and the child snuggled against her.
Fenring also put an arm around the little girl. “The old ways of the Sisterhood have failed in spectacular fashion, hmmm? Now let us try ours.”
“You would risk Marie’s life in this enterprise?” Mohiam asked.
Lady Margot smiled. “Hardly. Our plan is perfect, as is our method of escape afterward.”
The Reverend Mother’s eyes flashed. “And the details?”
“The details will be an artistic performance,” Margot said. “Since you are not involved, you will learn them after the fact.”
Glancing up at a shadowy shape standing in a window overlooking the courtyard, Mohiam said, “Very well. We will watch with interest.”
3
Home is more than a mere location. Home is where, more than anyplace else, one wishes to be. Home is certainly not this horrible planet that I never wanted to see again.
When he returned to Arrakis, weary and unsettled from the most recent battles against Thorvald’s insurgents, Gurney just wanted to rest in his dusty quarters. But he had barely managed to remove his nose plugs and unfasten his cloak before a pompous Qizarate ambassador arrived at his doorway wearing cumbersome diplomatic garments instead of a traditional stillsuit. Frowning, Gurney took the decree from the functionary, broke the seal, and read it, not caring that the man might look on.
The announcement took his breath away. “Why in the Seven Hells would Paul do that?”
The Emperor had officially given Gurney Halleck the Barony of Giedi Prime. The lumpy, scarred man stood still, breathing quickly through flared nostrils, realizing that Paul probably intended for this to be a reward, shielding him from further horrors of the Jihad by sending him back to the planet of his childhood, just as Paul himself had visited Caladan. But though Giedi Prime had surrendered to Paul almost immediately after the fall of House Harkonnen, for Gurney the place was still a battlefield — a battlefield of the mind, a battlefield of harsh memories.
Gurney shooed the functionary away and reread the decree, reflexively crumpling the spice paper, then straightening the document again. Paul had added a quiet, more personal note. “You can heal it, my loyal friend. It will take thousands of years before anyone might consider Giedi Prime a beautiful place. At the very least, try to change it from a festering wound to a scar. Do it for me, Gurney.”
Sighing, Gurney said to himself, “I serve the Atreides.” And he meant it. He would face his past, and use his best abilities to free the people of Giedi Prime from many generations of Harkonnen repression and imposed darkness. It would not be a simple task.
He already had an earldom on Caladan, but Jessica had taken the title of Duchess, and the people there loved her. He didn’t want to take anything away from her. But… Giedi Prime? Paul was doing him no favors.
Gurney had often fantasized that after a lifetime of fighting he would retire to the country on a well-earned estate with a beautiful woman and a house full of rambunctious children. Somehow, though, he did not see that in his future.
WHEN HE ARRIVED at Giedi Prime, Gurney Halleck received a modest hero’s welcome, though the decidedly subdued population did not know what to make of him. He was the newly named Baron — another painfully unsettling honor. Paul-Muad’Dib had freed this planet from the Harkonnen boot heel, but the people did not know how to rejoice. They were not accustomed to loving their leaders. Even with the yoke of repression removed, no one raised a voice to celebrate.
Seeing them crowded in Harko City reminded Gurney of the magnitude of the challenge he faced, and he felt hollow in his chest. Noting the wan faces, pale complexions, and washed-out demeanors, he remembered seeing
