Harishka stood by the bed for several minutes, not rustling her robe or breathing loudly enough to make noise. She would not deprive her old friend of even a moment of sleep. Even before becoming Mother Superior, Harishka had admired Lethea’s innate, incomprehensible ability to see the sweeping plan in a way no other Bene Gesserit could.
As if she could sense the Mother Superior’s thought, the bedridden woman’s eyes opened to slits, then widened. She looked piercingly at Harishka, startling her. “You’ve been standing there for so long. Are you trying to decide if you should cut my throat and be done with the troubles I cause?”
The Mother Superior responded with an uneasy laugh. “You know I would never consider that, old friend.”
“I am not a Truthsayer, so you could well be lying to me.” Lethea flinched with a sudden wave of suspicions.
“I did not come here to lie to you. I came to see how you are doing.” The Mother Superior added deep sincerity to her words. “The Sisterhood needs you, Lethea. You are irreplaceable.”
Peripherally, Harishka saw a tall Sister in a green medical robe approach the bedside. The woman’s hair was pinned tightly to her head. Now that Lethea was awake, the medical Sister checked the instruments, then adjusted the diagnostics linked to the patient by wires and tubes.
Lethea snapped at the attendant. “I hate you for keeping me alive.” The tall woman looked nervously at Harishka, but held her ground. The other Sister with the imager stepped closer to get a better angle for her recording.
Harishka leaned down and spoke in a soothing voice. “We are helping you. Your body is too weak to sustain itself. This is for your own good.”
“My own good?” The Kwisatz Mother half sat up, then slumped back onto the bed. Harishka reached in to prop Lethea, and the medical Sister pushed pillows behind her back. “You mean for the good of the Bene Gesserit.”
“Are we not Sisters together? Sworn to uphold and advance the goals of the order? The breeding program is essential to the Sisterhood. You are central to the Sisterhood.” Harishka straightened. “Therefore, what is good for the Sisterhood is also for your own good.”
The ancient woman sulked. “I have no friends, you know. I’ve never felt even a semblance of affection for any other human being, not even for you.”
Harishka laughed. “You are not so unpleasant as you portray yourself to be. I have many fond memories of our conversations.”
The former Kwisatz Mother wheezed. “I’ve had an extraordinarily difficult life, and one that has lasted far too long. So many breeding pathways that proved to be dead ends, so many hopes dashed—I see them all, and countless others that are doomed to failure. What is the point?”
Harishka answered in soft tones. “You can sort out the threads that are not failures. You keep our hopes alive.”
“I cannot live forever. You found a Kwisatz Mother to replace me, so let me slip into the realm of Other Memory. She is highly skilled. I have spoken with her. I know she can handle the job.”
The Mother Superior gave a consoling nod. “But you have another talent, don’t you? One she does not possess? That is why you are so important to me.”
“It makes me worth tolerating.” Lethea looked at the tubes connected to her, the spice essence flowing into her, the life-support mechanisms that monitored her heartbeat, maintained her respiration. Suddenly, the crone lashed out, “If you care so much, did you bring me something good to eat?”
Harishka reached into a pocket of her robe and brought out a small, compact package that expanded into a portable bowl. She produced a spoon from another pocket, then instructed the tall medical Sister, “Turn off the machines. Leave her in peace for a few moments. She can sustain herself.”
The Sister looked dubious, then anxious.
Lethea rasped, “I can control every cell in my body. I will stay alive long enough to eat!”
Though the humming devices fell silent, the tubes and monitors remained connected. Harishka pulled a chair next to the bed. The aged woman squirmed, tried to see the bowl. “What is it today?” Her flicker of eagerness was the most positive reaction Harishka had seen in some time.
“The peppery savoy soup you like so much. It is hard to get.” The Mother Superior smiled. “But I found a way. For you.”
Lethea looked almost happy, but not quite. “You are the only one who can calm me. Others try, but not like you.”
“We both have special skills.” Harishka slipped a partial spoonful of the dark green soup into Lethea’s mouth. She tasted it and swallowed, so Harishka gave her another spoonful, and another, careful not to let soup dribble down her wrinkled chin. When the old woman had finished, Harishka wiped her lips with a cloth. Lethea refused to let anyone else feed her like this.
Satisfied, the ancient Kwisatz Mother looked sleepy.
Harishka rose to leave. “I will check on you again tomorrow.”
Lethea glared at her. “You just want to make sure I’m still alive.”
“Yes, I do.”
The old woman closed her eyes and pushed some pillows off the bed to lie down again. The medical Sister tried to help, but Harishka took care of making Lethea as comfortable as possible.
As the dying woman lay with her eyes closed, Harishka said to the others, “You can turn the life support back on. Keep me advised of any changes.”
* * *
AFTER MOTHER SUPERIOR Harishka had gone, Lethea sat up of her own accord. The two medical Sisters remained in the room with their backs turned, conferring in whispers, but she heard every word.
“I go in and out of clarity,” Lethea said. “But I am very clear now.”
The two Sisters turned toward her, instantly alert. Both showed signs of fear.
Lethea used the irresistible power of Voice, instantly locking her control over the two attendants. “You, with the imaging device, come here.”
The stout young woman did as she was told. She stood by the bedside, anxious, but she could not resist.
“Are you recording all of this?” Lethea demanded. “So that my every word, my every action, can be analyzed and discussed?”
The Sister nodded. “I am good at my job.”
A soft smile crept onto Lethea’s face. “Then do a good job of this.” She lowered her voice to a husky whisper, the force of her words directed only to this Sister. “See that stone wall over there, with the one brick that sticks out slightly above the others? See how it’s a little bit sharp?” With a gnarled hand, she pointed toward a corner of the room.
The Sister nodded. She held up her recording device.
“Now go over there and bash your forehead into it as many times as you can, as hard as you can.” Lethea held out her hand. “Here, let me hold your imager while you do as I command.”
The medical Sister cried out and lunged to help her companion, but Lethea stopped her in her tracks with Voice. “Halt! Do not move another step!”
Without hesitation, the stout Sister handed Lethea her imager, and the ancient woman recorded every moment as the hapless young Sister walked to the wall, faced it, and drew herself back so she could bash her head against the stone. After the first impact, she reeled backward from the bloody stain, then lunged forward to bash her head again.