“I gain nothing. I am diminished.”

Luyseyal spoke up: “This could only reinforce thoughts of oppression.”

“I wonder why so few ever thought of the Bene Gesserit as oppressors?” Leto asked.

Anteac spoke to her companion: “If it pleases the God Emperor to inform us, he will do so. Let us get to the purposes of our Embassy.”

Leto smiled. “The two of you can come closer. Leave your attendants and approach.”

Moneo stepped two paces to his right as the Reverend Mothers moved in characteristic silent gliding to within three paces of the ledge.

“It’s almost as though they had no feet!” Moneo had once complained.

Recalling this, Leto observed how carefully Moneo watched the two women. They were menacing, but Moneo dared not object to their nearness. The God Emperor had ordered it; thus it would be.

Leto lifted his attention to the attendants waiting where the Bene Gesserit entourage had first stopped. The acolytes wore hoodless black gowns. He saw tiny clues to forbidden rituals about them—an amulet, a small trinket, a colourful corner of a kerchief so arranged that more colour might be flashed carefully. Leto knew that the Reverend Mothers allowed this because they no longer could share the spice as once they had.

Ritual substitutes.

There were significant changes across the past ten years. A new parsimony had entered the Sisterhood’s thinking.

They are coming out, Leto told himself. The old, old mysteries are still here.

The ancient patterns had lain dormant in the Bene Gesserit memories for all of those millennia.

Now, they emerge. I must warn my Fish Speakers.

He returned his attention to the Reverend Mothers.

“You have requests?”

“What is it like to be you?” Luyseyal asked.

Leto blinked. That was an interesting attack. They had not tried it in more than a generation. Well… why not?

“Sometimes my dreams are blocked off and redirected into strange places,” he said. “If my cosmic memories are a web, as you two certainly know, then think about the dimensions of my web and where such memories and dreams might lead.”

“You speak of our certain knowledge,” Anteac said. “Why can’t we join forces at last? We are more alike than we are different.”

“I would sooner link myself to those degenerate Great Houses bewailing their lost spice riches!”

Anteac held herself still, but Luyseyal pointed a finger at Leto. “We offer community!”

“And I insist on conflict?”

Anteac stirred, then: “It is said that there is a principle of conflict which originated with the single cell and has never deteriorated.”

“Some things remain incompatible,” Leto agreed.

“Then how does our Sisterhood maintain its community?” Luyseyal demanded.

Leto hardened his voice. “As you well know, the secret of community lies in suppression of the incompatible.”

“There can be enormous value in cooperation,” Anteac said.

“To you, not to me.”

Anteac contrived a sigh. “Then, Lord, will you tell us about the physical changes in your person?”

“Someone besides yourself should know about and record such things,” Luyseyal said.