An obligation without honor is worthless.

—THUFIR HAWAT, Mentat and Weapons Master of House Atreides

While Paul settled in and got to know Bronso better, Jessica met with Rhombur’s wife in the woman’s royal apartment as the artificial night began to fall. Jessica had looked forward to a peaceful, social visit before returning to Caladan and leaving her son here to study. But seeing the three Bene Gesserits had changed the tone of their reunion.

Soon enough, the Sisterhood’s delegation would reveal their true purpose in coming to Ix. Jessica didn’t imagine for a moment that this was a social call. They wanted something. The Sisterhood always wanted something, and often it had to do with control. Maybe they would challenge her about Paul.

Jessica was not a clinging, doting mother, but she did encourage her son to study subjects that went far beyond politics. Since he had no other dedicated tutor, she shared subtleties of her own Bene Gesserit training. Because the Sisterhood had never wanted her to bear a son in the first place, she was sure those women would disapprove of her methods.

Let them disapprove, she decided. She had been making decisions independent of the Sisterhood for some time now.

Jessica made herself smile, trying to shake her mood. “I’m glad Paul is here. He needs a friend, too, since he has no playmates his own age on Caladan—Leto considers it too dangerous.”

“The boys will take care of each other.” Looking tense, Tessia seemed unable to relax. “Times are much more stable than when Leto and Rhombur were young. Without the Tleilaxu, our industries are burgeoning, our exports tripling annually.” Her voice became troubled. “Rhombur has had to appoint more and more lieutenants. Business subsidiaries run the manufacturing centers, and the Technocrat Council has been swiftly and silently stealing power from him. I fear that House Vernius is becoming obsolete.”

From the broad windows in Tessia’s quarters, Jessica looked out at the enormous cavern, with its swirling factories and industrial lights, the bustle of workers. One nobleman could not oversee it all without a cadre of loyal administrators, and with profits growing and growing, no one would want the production to slow down.

“Despite the political problems on Ix, I have so much in my life now, Jessica—a family, a place . . . and love, though no Bene Gesserit would recognize, or even understand, that.”

Love, Jessica thought. There were certain things the Sisterhood simply didn’t understand. “Yet they will always have a hold on us, even after we draw our last breaths and slip into Other Memory.”

Without making a sound, the trio of women appeared like a flock of shadows at the doorway. Tessia met the gaze of stern Reverend Mother Stokiah, feigned casualness, and sat back in her chair. “Tell us why you’re here.” The women did not introduce themselves.

Still standing, Stokiah spoke only to Tessia, not deigning to notice Jessica. “The Sisterhood has new orders for you.”

Tessia did not invite them to sit. “I’m no longer certain that the Sisterhood’s orders are in my best interests.”

The two other visitors stiffened visibly, while old Stokiah scowled. “That is not, and never has been, our concern. Orders are orders.”

Jessica moved closer to her friend. “Maybe you should explain what you want from her.”

Undercurrents of acid flowed through the Reverend Mother’s voice. “We know who you are, Jessica—and you are no shining example of following the Sisterhood’s instructions.” Without bothering to look at Jessica’s reaction, Stokiah turned to Tessia. “After inspecting the bloodlines in our breeding index, we require various permutations of your genes. You are hereby recalled to Wallach IX so that you may bear certain children.”

Jessica noted how well Stokiah maintained her calm. In contrast, Tessia reddened. “My womb isn’t a tool for you to borrow whenever you like. I love Rhombur. He is my husband, and I will not be a brood mare for you.”

One of the other Reverend Mothers in the entourage, the smallest of the trio, tried to sound conciliatory. “It will not be an extraordinary commitment—three daughters, no more, with different fathers.” She sounded so reasonable, as if she were asking Tessia to do nothing more than change a garment. “Rhombur knew you were a Bene Gesserit when he chose you as a concubine. He will understand, and we have asked so little of you in your lifetime.”

Jessica felt she had to come to her friend’s defense. She quoted the Bene Gesserit motto with stern sarcasm. “ ‘We live to serve.’ ”

Tessia rose to her feet. “I have other obligations now. I am also a wife and mother, and I will not turn my back on all that. If you can’t understand why, then you’re ill-informed about human nature. I shall accept no other lover than Rhombur. That is not a subject for negotiation.”

For a woman who should have been in perfect mastery of her emotions, Stokiah allowed a hint of her anger to show. The other two Sisters seemed more confused than upset by Tessia’s response, turning as pale as limestone. “Sister Tessia,” Stokiah emphasized the title, “it seems you both have forgotten a great deal. You defy the Bene Gesserit at your peril.”

“Nevertheless, I refuse. You have your answer. Now please leave.”

Startling them all, Rhombur appeared at the door, his powerful augmented body primed for use, like a loaded weapon. “Vermillion Hells, you are upsetting my wife, so you’re no longer welcome on Ix. If the next Heighliner has no available staterooms, I’m sure we can find a cargo container to accommodate all three of you.”

Stokiah slipped into a fighting stance, and the other two women stood coiled beside her. Then, unexpectedly, she gave an abbreviated bow. “As you wish. We have nothing further to discuss here.”

“No, you do not.”

Departing like shadows fleeing the light, Stokiah and her two companions slipped away. Jessica was left feeling angry and unsettled. “I’m sorry you had to endure that.”

“The Sisterhood taught us to be strong, if nothing else.” Tessia pressed herself against her husband and said in a hoarse voice, “I love you so much, Rhombur.”

He folded her within his powerful cyborg arms. “Oh, I never had any doubt of that.”

As a Suk practitioner, Dr. Wellington Yueh had learned to control his feelings; he was cool and logical, sincere but not vulnerable. His personality made him a perfect match for his Bene Gesserit wife Wanna, who was equally adept at compartmentalizing her thoughts and feelings, at least in public.

Yet when he saw the three Sisters arrive at the Grand Palais—and recognized one of them as Wanna, the first time he had seen her after such a long separation—his heart lurched. The barriers almost melted away. Almost. During his diligent service as Rhombur’s private physician, he often tried to forget how much he missed her, convincing himself that their relationship was as solid as stone, no matter how long they were separated.

And now she had arrived on Ix. Her presence with the Bene Gesserits, here and now, could not possibly be a coincidence. But he didn’t reveal this to Earl Rhombur, not until he learned more about why she was here. He longed to think that she had come to see him . . . but he did not dare believe it.

When Wanna appeared at the door to his private quarters that evening, Yueh simply stared at her narrow but lovely face, feeling like a complete, helpless fool. Though she stood right there, she seemed untouchable in her Bene Gesserit facade, but he could see a flicker behind her brown eyes, a spark that he knew represented much brighter flames. “I am pleased to see you, Wellington.”

His response took a moment to emerge from his throat; it did not carry the weight of the real emotions he felt. “I have missed you.”

Wanna smiled, and the awkward wall between them seemed to crumble. She stepped closer, her presence radiating tension and bottled feelings. “It’s been much too long, my dear husband. When my Sisters announced their trip to Ix, I filed a petition with the Mother Superior. I can’t tell you how much I wanted to see you!”

When they embraced at last, at last after so many years, he thought she felt warm and comfortable in his arms. So many years, so much distance between them . . . yet so much still binding them together. He didn’t have to hide his feelings here. No one could see them.

When they had married on Richese, he was a well-respected but unremarkable physician, and Wanna had been the appropriate choice for him. Before long, he’d been surprised by the depths of his feelings for her, and she seemed to share that love, although he could not be entirely certain—no one could ever be certain with one of the witches.

Yueh considered himself a solitary man, not a mooncalf romantic, yet the love he discovered inside himself had no analytical answer. Because they shared their thoughts and hearts, he had convinced himself that he and Wanna didn’t need a close day-to-day companionship. When she had left him years ago to study at the Mother School, it was a sad parting, but her talents were needed on Wallach IX.

“How are your meditations progressing? Your studies?” He didn’t know what else to say. He remembered times they had shared on a wooded Richesian lakeshore, whispered promises in the dark, shared laughter at private jokes. He wondered what the Sisters had done to change her in the intervening years.

Primly, Wanna walked over to a comfortable well-lit spot near the outer wall, folding her hands in front of her. “The human psyche is complex, Wellington. Understanding it takes a long time.” She had short auburn hair, a small mouth, and thin lips that could quirk into a rare but radiant smile. “I’d like to ask you about Rhombur and Tessia Vernius. Since you are the Earl’s personal physician, you would know the answers.”

Yueh rubbed fingers along his drooping mustache, pursed his dark lips into a faint frown. “Is this your own curiosity, Wanna, or something the Sisterhood asks? Is that why the Sisters came here?”

“Oh, Wellington, my own curiosity benefits my Sisters.”

He tried not to sound defeated. “What is it you need to know?” Inside, he could already feel his walls rebuilding.

“Earl Rhombur’s cyborg enhancements are functioning properly? His life is relatively normal now?”

“As normal as it can be. Considering the amount of surviving cellular material I had to work with after the accident, Rhombur’s components function remarkably well.”

She continued, as if she had memorized a list of questions. “And what about the Lady Tessia? Bronso was born almost a dozen years ago, well after Rhombur’s accident. Can they have more children?”

“Tessia has no desire to, and Rhombur isn’t capable.”

“She is still fertile, but Rhombur is sterile?”

Yueh heard himself talking, the words escaping in a rush from his mouth. He longed to restore his intimate connection with her. “Bronso is not Rhombur’s biological son. Genetically, the father is his half brother, Tyros Reffa—the bastard son of old Emperor Elrood IX and Lady Shando Balut. Rhombur and Reffa had the same mother.” Unable to keep the alarm from his voice, Yueh added quickly, “The boy doesn’t know. We’ve kept the matter private. You know the prejudice against any artificial means of conception.”

Why did I reveal that to her? His expression hardened. “It’s much like the prejudice against repairing damaged body parts with my cyborg components. The repairs I made to you demonstrated the potential of my work.” He felt the hurt growing inside him again. “You should have been able to conceive a child.”

Wanna sounded like a stranger as she said to him now, “Some things are not to be, Wellington. Be satisfied with what we have.”

He had always wanted a family, but early in their marriage Wanna had suffered a severe accident that damaged her reproductive organs. As she healed, Yueh had succeeded in replacing her injured tissue and organs so that she was capable of bearing children—in theory. But it had never happened. . . .

Now, sudden questions appeared in his mind. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers, but he spoke before he could stop himself. “Tell me the truth. Did the Sisters instruct you not to conceive?”

Wanna retained her calm demeanor for a moment longer, before it crumbled. Despite their years apart, he knew her well enough to read the subtle changes, the flickers of her expression. “Oh, I conceived, Wellington. I have delivered four children—offspring that the Bene Gesserit demanded of me, important bloodlines, necessary genetic combinations.” Her body shuddered, and he held her woodenly, afraid to move, startled by her revelations. He couldn’t even express his disbelief . . . but he knew with a sinking sensation that she was telling the truth.

“My replacement parts functioned perfectly . . . but your bloodline, my love, did not fit into the Sisterhood’s plans.” She looked at him with anguished eyes. “I am so sorry. I could not . . .”

He knew she wanted him to pretend that he understood and accepted the realities of being married to a Bene Gesserit. But he froze, wrestling with the shock. “You’ve had . . . four children?”

“They were taken away from me as soon as they were born. I never stopped thinking of you, but I had to block off my feelings, shield myself. That is how the Bene Gesserit trained me to handle emotions, and now . . . I don’t know if I even remember what I once felt for you.” Leaving him speechless, stiffly trying to regain her composure, Wanna tried to pull away. “I should go.”

Shaken and nervous, he clutched her tightly. “So soon?”

Wanna looked at him, and her expression melted again. “No, not just yet. I can stay with you tonight.”