Despite an appearance of infallibility, computer projections are not prescient.

—TICIA CENVA, former leader of the Sorceresses of Rossak

The following day, Raquella read the full report submitted by Sister Perianna, detailing her service to Roderick Corrino’s wife at the Imperial Court. After being caught spying in an inept manner, Perianna had escaped before too many questions could be asked, and had returned to Rossak in a downcast mood. Disappointed, Raquella set aside the report. Perianna had lost her vital position in the Palace, and her efforts had secured nothing more than trivial details about domestic interactions among Salvador, Roderick, and their wives. Nothing of much value.

With a sour taste in her mouth, Raquella left her office and went to observe classes in progress. She liked to vary her routes and times to get a more complete picture of what was going on. When Sister Dorotea called her name in one of the passageways, Raquella felt a chill run down her spine, but she forced herself to remain calm, even though the memory-voices in her head clamored out a warning. Dorotea had become bothersome lately, and even Raquella’s latent fondness for her granddaughter had worn thin.

The previous evening, Dorotea had marched into her private chambers with Sister Valya and Anna Corrino in tow, tattling that Anna had trespassed in the jungle laboratories. Though alarmed by the information, Raquella gave a stern answer. “She is Sister Valya’s responsibility. I don’t need to be troubled by every prank or indiscretion committed by an acolyte.”

Dorotea had not been pleased by the reaction, and had left muttering in discontent. Now she came running up again, taking deep breaths to calm herself. “Reverend Mother, I have read the report of Sister Ingrid’s death, and I am not satisfied with the conclusions. I believe the matter warrants further investigation.”

Clasping her hands in front of her, Raquella said, “Ingrid was an impetuous girl who showed great potential. Her death was a loss for the Sisterhood, but the matter is closed.”

Dorotea was palpably angry. “Are you too busy to deal with a murder, Reverend Mother?”

“Murder?” Raquella narrowed her gaze. “The girl fell from the cliff. It’s a dangerous path—where she should not have been. That’s all there was to it. Accidents happen.”

“What if someone pushed her off the cliff?”

“You suggest a serious crime was committed by one of your fellow Sisters? Do you have evidence of this?” Raquella placed her hands on her hips. “Any evidence at all?”

Dorotea lowered her gaze. “No, Reverend Mother.”

As if coming to the rescue, the aged Sorceress Sabra Hublein hurried toward her, and Raquella could read the alarm on the old woman’s face. Her white robe was dirty on the bottom front, suggesting that she may have tripped in her rush down from the breeding-record caves.

With barely a glance at Dorotea, Sabra said, “Excuse the interruption, Reverend Mother, but I must speak with you alone.” She lowered her voice. “We’ve made an important projection.”

Pleased to have an excuse to end the conversation, Raquella dismissed Dorotea. Though the other Sister was obviously dissatisfied, the Reverend Mother took Sabra by the arm and hurried her back through the tunnels, past classroom chambers, and into her private offices, where they could meet without being overheard.

Sabra whispered, “Our computers have sorted through projection after projection, using every variable, all the mountains of data—and I have alarming news regarding a specific noble bloodline.” Her voice was rough, like tearing paper. “Using all of our computing power, we have collated the bloodline data and projected descendants using the available samples of DNA from our entire breeding library, applying primary probabilities, secondary, tertiary, and beyond. We may have reached the limits of the computers’ capabilities, but I am confident the projection is valid.”

“Whose bloodline?” Raquella asked, trying to be calm. “Whose descendants?”

“Emperor Salvador Corrino! We have modeled his possible offspring through Empress Tabrina, or through any of his current concubines, and all other likely noble bloodlines. His specific Corrino genetics is the common factor.”

Raquella could see it was a worthwhile investigation. “And what have you found? Why are you so alarmed?”

Sabra’s eyes glittered. “It’s remarkably consistent, and even our Sister Mentats verified the general conclusion that if Emperor Salvador is allowed to have offspring—through any likely mate—his family will produce the most horrific tyrant in history, within five to ten generations. If the projection models are correct, billions or trillions of lives could be at stake, bloodshed on the scale of the Jihad.”

“You can predict that?”

“Oh yes, Reverend Mother—with a fair degree of accuracy. If this bloodline continues, a resultant tyrant is destined to inflict chaos and carnage, all across the Imperium. Naturally, there are many factors in creating such a model, and the computers can’t be absolutely certain, but the probability is disturbingly high. I would strongly advise, as a precaution, that we find some way to prevent the Emperor from having children.”

“What about his brother, Roderick? He already has children. Do we need to curtail the Corrino bloodline entirely?”

Sabra showed a hint of relief. “No, Roderick Corrino has a different mother, and a different genetic makeup. In fact, he has none of the dangerous factors, nor do his four children. We’ve already been keeping a close eye on them. Only Salvador raises our concerns.”

According to the records, Salvador’s mother had been emotionally unbalanced and had tried to kill Emperor Jules when he decided to end her service as his concubine. In contrast, Roderick’s mother was not only lovely, but highly intelligent. Anna’s mother was also quite normal, good genetic stock. The flaw, then, came from Salvador’s maternal line. Raquella was not alone in believing that Roderick would have made a better Emperor than his brother.

The chorus of voices inside her mind agreed, as well.

“Let me review the data, and we’ll decide on the next step. Despite the dynastic needs, there’s little immediate chance Salvador will get the Empress pregnant—they can barely tolerate each other, according to the reports from Sisters Dorotea and Perianna. We may, however, need to monitor his concubines.…”

“This is dangerous enough, Reverend Mother, that we should not leave it to chance. If we nip the problem in the bud now, the course of humanity will be relatively easy to correct.”

“And we can do it,” Raquella said. “No one else will even see the threat.” She smiled inwardly. This was exactly the sort of challenge for which she had envisioned and guided the Sisterhood.

The voices in her Other Memories continued to whisper warnings, reacting with alarm and confirming what Raquella had already decided. “I rarely leave anything to chance, Sabra. I prefer to sterilize Salvador instead of having him killed, but it must be done. It will be our contribution to the welfare of the Imperium.”