Lady Margot Fenring had not been to the Bene Gesserit home-world in some time, but it had not changed. Sienna tiles still covered the roofs of the sprawling Mother School complex, which surrounded the main buildings that dated back thousands of years. To the Sisterhood, Wallach IX was a ship of constancy floating in a vast and changing cosmic sea.

For all their intense study of human nature and society, the Sisterhood was an extremely conservative organization. “Adapt or die” was a primary Bene Gesserit axiom, though they seemed to have forgotten how to follow it. Margot had gradually come to realize this. As far as she was concerned, they were not her superiors. The unparalleled disaster of Paul Atreides and the almost complete loss of Bene Gesserit political power had eroded her respect for them.

She and her husband had spent years in isolation among the Tleilaxu, raising Marie, developing an overall plan. And now the Mother Superior had summoned her with orders to bring her daughter in “for inspection.”

Since childhood, Lady Margot had been trained to obey the commands of her superiors — commands that had required her to bear the child in the first place — but the Sisterhood might not get the answers they anticipated. Margot came to Wallach IX on her own terms.

She hoped the Sisterhood had no additional breeding plans for her. Yes, Lady Margot looked considerably younger than her years, and her willowy beauty had been enhanced by careful and regular consumption of melange and a regimen of prana-bindu exercises. With good fortune, her seductive appearance and reproductive functions would last for several more decades… and Hasimir was so understanding.

But little Marie should be her culminating achievement. The Sisterhood had to be made to see that.

Margot had commanded the nanny Tonia Obregah-Xo to remain behind in Thalidei, though the woman had obviously expected to accompany them to Wallach IX. Tonia sent regular reports to the Mother School, using clandestine methods that were only too familiar to Margot herself. Once, Lady Margot had intercepted a message to the Sisterhood and had surreptitiously added her own postscript. That had caused rancor among the Bene Gesserits and a change in secret reporting procedures, but Margot had wanted to let them know that she was her own woman, and that she served at her pleasure, not theirs.

Nevertheless, she had agreed to make the journey and let the Reverend Mothers “inspect” five-year-old Marie all they wanted, but the Sisterhood would not control her destiny. Too much was at stake.

Now, she and Count Fenring sat on a garden bench with the girl between them. All of them waiting. Waiting. An obvious and childish game the Sisters were playing. Behind them was the stylized black quartz statue of a kneeling woman: Raquella Berto-Anirul, the founder of the ancient school. Thick rain clouds hung over the school, and the temperature was cool, though not uncomfortable. The courtyard sheltered them from the wind.

Finally, Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam approached with a group of five Sisters, her bird-bright gaze intent on little Marie.

Lady Margot stood. “I have brought my daughter as requested, Reverend Mother.” An automatic response.

Mohiam frowned pointedly at Count Fenring. “We do not often allow males to enter the grounds of the Mother School.”

“Your hospitality is, ahh, noted.” He smiled, keeping a protective hand on the little girl’s shoulder. The Bene Gesserits knew full well that Count Hasimir Fenring was a deadly assassin and master spy himself, so Lady Margot had no doubt that her husband’s presence here caused great consternation among their order.

Hasimir was himself a failed Kwisatz Haderach, a genetic eunuch and a dead end near the finish line of the millennia-long breeding program. But the actual Kwisatz Haderach, Paul Atreides, had backfired on them, with consequences too disastrous to imagine. From this point on, with Marie’s amazing potential, Count Fenring and Lady Margot were perfectly capable of developing and implementing their own dynastic schemes.

Both she and her husband had worked for inept superiors. The failures of Shaddam Corrino IV were not unlike those of the Sisterhood. Through a strange and cruel twist of fate, two immense and foolish courses of action had merged into one another to amplify a horrible result. The human race would be a long time recovering from Muad’Dib.

Reverend Mother Mohiam bent forward, turning her attention to the young girl. “So this is the child.” Reaching out, the old woman passed a hand through the child’s light blonde hair. “I see you have your mother’s lovely features.”

She’s also noticed a similarity to Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, Margot thought.

“And such milky smooth skin.” Mohiam rubbed one of the girl’s forearms. Marie endured the attention in silence. “Like your mother’s.”

Mohiam’s hand went quickly into a pocket of her robe, surreptitiously depositing the hair and skin samples 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 is a monster,” Lady Margot said. “Your own Kwisatz Haderach is completely out of control, and you are at fault. Your plans failed to account for the damage he’s inflicted upon the universe. We must make alternative plans to take care of him.”

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.”