Chapterhouse: Dune (Page 52)

Why does this interest her so much?

"People have politics. I told you that yesterday. Politics: the art of appearing candid and completely open while concealing as much as possible."

"So you witches conceal."

"I did not say that. When we say ‘politics,’ that’s a warning to our Sisters."

"I don’t believe you. Humans always create some form of…"

"Accord?"

"As good a word as any!" It angers her.

When Lucilla made no further response, Great Honored Matre leaned forward. "You’re concealing!"

"Isn’t it my right to hide from you things that might help you defeat us?" There’s a juicy morsel of bait!

"I thought so!" Leaning back with a look of satisfaction.

"However, why not reveal it? You think the niches of authority are always there for the filling and you don’t see what that says about my Sisterhood."

"Oh, please tell me." Heavy-handed with her sarcasm.

"You believe all of this conforms to instincts going back to tribal days and beyond. Chiefs and Elders. Mystery Mother and Council. And before that, the Strong Man (or Woman) who saw to it that everyone was fed, that all were guarded by fire at the cave’s mouth."

"It makes sense."

Does it really?

"Oh, I agree. Evolution of the forms is quite clearly laid out."

Chapter Eleven

"Evolution, witch! One thing piled on another."

Evolution. See how she snaps at key words?

"It’s a force that can be brought under control by turning it upon itself."

Control! Look at the interest you’ve aroused. She loves that word.

"So you make laws just like anyone else!"

"Regulations, perhaps, but isn’t everything temporary?"

Intensely interested. "Of course."

"But your society is administered by bureaucrats who know they cannot apply the slightest imagination to what they do."

"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."