With a collective memory that stretched into the murky shadows of history, the ancient Mother Superior Harishka had no need for advice from her Sisters. Yet recollections from the deep past were not always applicable to the future or to the current tapestry of Imperial politics.

Harishka stood inside a stucco-walled private meeting chamber. Her most trusted advisors, well trained in subtleties and consequences, moved around the room, their robes rustling like the wings of ravens. Duke Leto’s unexpected request had spurred them into a sudden and unwelcome meeting.

Acolytes brought in a selection of juices, tea, and spice coffee. The Sisters pondered, sipping beverages, but the room remained strangely silent, devoid of casual conversation. Such matters required serious contemplation.

Harishka glided to a rough stone bench and sat down. Cold and hard, it was not the sort of throne a powerful leader could have asked for, but the Bene Gesserit knew how to cope with discomfort. Her mind was sharp, her memories vivid. That was all a Mother Superior required.

The appointed Sisters settled down with a rustle of skirts. As gray-muffled sunshine filtered through the prismatic skylights, their crystal-shard eyes turned toward Harishka. It was time for the Mother Superior to speak.

“We have allowed ourselves to ignore this matter for years, and now we are forced to make a choice.” She mentioned the message cylinder that had recently arrived from Caladan.

“We should not have told Leto Atreides of the no-ship’s existence in the first place,” said dour Reverend Mother Lanali, who managed the Mother School’s map room and geographical archives.

“It was necessary,” Harishka said. “He would not have accepted Jessica unless we threw him a significant bone. To his credit, the Duke has not abused the information.”

“He is doing it now,” said Reverend Mother Thora, who tended the orchards and was an expert in cryptography. Early in her career, she had developed a technique for implanting messages on the leaves of plants.

Harishka disagreed. “The Duke could have used the information in many ways, yet instead he chose to go through private channels, maintaining our secret. Thus far, he has not betrayed our confidence. And, I might remind you that Jessica now carries his child, as we had hoped.”

“But what took her so long to get pregnant?” asked another woman. “It should have been done much sooner.”

Harishka did not meet her gaze. “It makes no difference. Let us attend to the matter at hand.”

“I concur,” said Reverend Mother Cienna, whose heart-shaped face still bore the aura of innocent beauty that had deceived so many men in her younger years. “If anyone should be granted the power to make unseen warships, it is Duke Atreides. Like his father and grandfather before him, he is a man of impeccable credentials, a man of honor.”

Lanali made a disbelieving sound. “Have you forgotten what he did on Beakkal? Wiping out the entire war memorial?”

“His war memorial,” Cienna countered. “And he was provoked.”

“Even if Duke Leto is trustworthy, what about future Atreides Dukes?” Lanali said, her words measured. “That opens up a significant unknown factor, and unknowns are dangerous.”

“But there are significant known factors, as well,” Cienna said. “You worry too much.”

The youngest member of the group, slender Sister Cristane, interrupted. “This decision has nothing to do with Atreides moral character. Such a weapon, even if used for passive defense, would change the texture of warfare in the Imperium. Invisibility technology offers a huge tactical advantage to any House that possesses it. Whether you have a softness for him or not, Cienna, Leto Atreides is no more than a pawn in our master plan, as was Baron Harkonnen.”

“The Harkonnens developed the terrible weapon in the first place,” said Thora, finishing her spice coffee and standing to refill her cup. “Thankfully, they lost the secret and have not been able to retrieve it.”

Lately, Harishka had begun to note the increasing amounts of melange the orchard-keeper consumed. Bene Gesserits could control their body chemistry, but they were strongly discouraged from extending their lifetimes beyond certain levels. Flaunting their longevity could move popular opinion against the Sisterhood.

Harishka decided to conclude this phase of the discussion. She had heard enough. “We have no choice in the matter. We must reject Leto’s demand. We will send our response with Reverend Mother Mohiam when she goes to escort Jessica to Kaitain.” She lifted her head. Her brain was so full of memories and free thoughts, it weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Thora let out a sigh, recalling how much work the Acolytes had done to dissect and analyze the damaged ship. “I don’t know how much we could tell Duke Leto anyway. We could give him the vessel wreckage, but even we do not understand how the field generator works.” She looked around the room, gulped more spice coffee.

Dark-haired Sister Cristane spoke up again. “Such a weapon could be catastrophic if unleashed in the Imperium. But how much more terrible if even we do not understand how it functions? We must learn all we can and keep the secret safely with the Sisterhood.”

She had been trained as a commando to slip in and perform aggressive actions when subtler schemes failed to achieve their desired ends. Because of her youth, Cristane did not have the patience of a Reverend Mother, though at times Harishka considered such impetuousness useful.

“Absolutely correct.” The Mother Superior shifted on the hard stone bench. “Certain markings on the wreckage indicate that someone named Chobyn was involved. We have since learned that an inventor by that name defected from Richese to Giedi Prime around the time this invisibility system was developed.”

Thora finished her third cup of spice coffee, ignoring Harishka’s disapproving frown. “The Harkonnens must have disposed of the man too soon, or they would not have had such difficulty reproducing the invisibility generator for themselves.”

Harishka folded her spidery hands in her lap. “Naturally, we will begin our inquiries on Richese.”