Silvan Zimmerman

Całkiem dobrze szło im udawanie, że nic się nie wydarzyło. Tahira, choć nie wyjechała, nie była zbyt aktywna w zbiorowych aktywnościach, spędzając sporo czasu na samotnych spacerach w górach, lub przesiadując w swojej ciężarówce. A jednak, Silvan znalazł o poranku ostatniego dnia tego roku całkiem grubą kopertę z leżącym nań czerwonym jabłkiem.





Paul  looked at  his  mother. She told the truth. He  wanted  to  get  away alone and think this experience through, but knew he could not leave until he  was  dismissed. The  old  woman had  gained a  power over  him. They spoke truth. His  mother had  undergone this  test.  There must be  terrible purpose in it ... the pain and fear had been terrible. He understood terrible purposes. They drove against all odds. They were their own necessity. Paul felt that he had been infected with terrible purpose. He did not know yet what the terrible purpose was.
“Some day,  lad,” the  old  woman said, “you, too,  may  have to  stand outside a door like that. It takes a measure of doing.”
Paul looked  down at  the  hand  that  had  known pain, then  up  to  the Reverend Mother. The sound of her voice had contained a difference then from any  other voice in  his  experience. The  words were outlined inbrilliance. There was an edge to them. He felt that any question he might ask her would bring an answer that could lift him out of his flesh-world into something greater.
“Why do you test for humans?” he asked.
“To set you free.”
“Free?”
“Once men turned their thinking over to machines in the hope that this would set them free. But that only permitted other men with machines to enslave them.”
“ ‘Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a man’s mind,’ ”Paul quoted.
“Right out of the Butlerian Jihad and the Orange Catholic Bible,” she said. “But what the O.C. Bible should’ve said is: ‘Thou shalt not make a machine to counterfeit a human mind.’ Have you studied the Mentat in your service?”
“I’ve studied with Thufir Hawat.”
“The Great Revolt took away a crutch,” she said. “It forced human minds to develop. Schools were started to train human talents.”
“Bene Gesserit schools?”
She nodded. “We have two chief survivors of those ancient schools: the Bene Gesserit and the Spacing Guild. The Guild, so we think, emphasizes almost pure mathematics. Bene Gesserit performs another function.”
“Politics,” he said.
“Kull wahad!” the old woman said. She sent a hard glance at Jessica.
“I’ve not told him, Your Reverence,” Jessica said.
The Reverend Mother returned her attention to Paul. “You did that on remarkably few  clues,” she  said. “Politics indeed. The  original Bene Gesserit school was  directed by  those who  saw  the  need of  a  thread of continuity in human affairs. They saw there could be no such continuity without separating human stock from animal stock—for breeding purposes.”
The old woman’s words abruptly lost their special sharpness for Paul. He felt an offense against what his mother called his instinct for rightness. It wasn’t that Reverend Mother lied to him. She obviously believed what she said. It was something deeper, something tied to his terrible purpose.
He said: “But my mother tells me many Bene Gesserit of the schools don’t know their ancestry.”
“The genetic lines are always in our records,” she said. “Your mother knows that  either she’s  of  Bene Gesserit descent or  her  stock was acceptable in itself.”
“Then why couldn’t she know who her parents are?”
“Some do.... Many don’t. We might, for example, have wanted to breed her to a close relative to set up a dominant in some genetic trait. We have many reasons.”
Again, Paul felt the offense against rightness. He said: “You take a lot on yourselves.”
The Reverend Mother stared at him, wondering: Did I hear criticism in his voice? “We carry a heavy burden,” she said.
Paul felt himself coming more and more out of the shock of the test. He leveled a measuring stare at her, said: “You say maybe I’m the ... Kwisatz Haderach. What’s that, a human gom jabbar?”
“Paul,” Jessica said. “You mustn’t take that tone with—”
“I’ll handle this, Jessica,” the old woman said. “Now, lad, do you know about the Truthsayer drug?”
“You take it to improve your ability to detect falsehood,” he said. “My mother’s told me.”
“Have you ever seen truthtrance?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“The drug’s  dangerous,” she  said, “but it  gives insight. When a Truthsayer’s gifted by the drug, she can look many places in her memory—in her body’s memory. We look down so many avenues of the past ... but only feminine avenues.” Her voice took on a note of sadness. “Yet, there’s a place where no Truthsayer can see. We are repelled by it, terrorized. It is said a man will come one day and find in the gift of the drug his inwardeye.  He  will  look  where we  cannot—into both  feminine and  masculine pasts.”
“Your Kwisatz Haderach?”
“Yes, the one who can be many places at once: the Kwisatz Haderach. Many men have tried the drug ... so many, but none has succeeded.”
“They tried and failed, all of them?”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “They tried and died.”

2.01 godzina 18.00

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Treść: Wraz z początkiem Lutego chciałbym omówić wszystkie istotne dla rodu sprawy na zebraniu, które odbędzie się: 03/02/2023 roku w rodowej siedzibie.
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Zapraszam chętnych do udziału. Na pewno zostaną poruszone kwestie:
- zatrucia Radnej Seleny jeszcze za czasów balu u Scalettich: uściślając - pociągnięcie sprawy, która stała się nader interesująca.
- sprawa Sonii: omówienie jej przyszłości w rodzie i nie tylko
- podsumowanie miesięcy/miesiąca w zależności od indywidualnych potrzeb.

Mihai Dracula,
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