No one in Zimia would see Empress Tabrina again either. One of the most surprising revelations that spurted like blood from Quemada’s mouth was that Tabrina had been aware that the Grand Inquisitor sold his victims’ organs on the black market. Rather than exposing the scheme, though, she had blackmailed the torturer, forcing him to become her lover — surely not because she had any fondness for the man, but in bitter retaliation for all of Salvador’s concubines. Maybe she liked Quemada’s sense of power, or the lingering scent of blood on his skin.…

When confronted with the accusation, Tabrina had crumbled, begging not to be thrown to the Scalpel apprentices. Only Prince Roderick’s hard and rational insistence had saved her. Grim and still grief-stricken after the death of his little daughter, Roderick insisted that the Imperium could not tolerate an expanding scandal. The Corrinos had already drained House Péle of its wealth, and Tabrina was sent into exile. Salvador had no need for her anymore — she had not given him an heir.

Dorotea knew Salvador would never have a child, not by any lover. The Sisterhood on Rossak had seen to it that he was secretly rendered sterile to cut off his flawed bloodline. It was one of the few matters on which Dorotea and Mother Superior Raquella had agreed.…

While she waited, listening to the palace stir, Dorotea heard a guard escort march down the tiled corridors. She rose to her feet, presented herself, and faced forward as Salvador and Roderick arrived together. She bowed, and when she straightened she said, “I have something you both must hear.”

The balding Emperor looked as if he might panic at the thought of another crisis, but Roderick remained calm. He opened the door to the Emperor’s main office and gestured them inside. “Your insights are always useful, Reverend Mother Dorotea.”

Suppressing her nervousness, she followed them. Whispers at the back of her mind clamored for attention, the ancient voices that were much more real than a dreaming revelation. She knew her conclusions were valid. “I am not a Mentat, but as a Truthsayer I can detect falsehoods. I observe, I look at subtle threads, and during a particularly deep meditation I accomplished an analysis on a very large scale.… My conclusions are troubling.”

Dorotea sketched out her discovery. “Venport Holdings is more than just a shipping fleet, and Directeur Venport’s plans extend through all portions of our lives. He has created a vast invisible network, like a cancer working through the Imperium — he owns the largest spacing fleet, the only one with access to Navigators for safe transport. He secretly runs Combined Mercantiles and controls commodities, transportation, the spice industry. He is the power behind the largest interplanetary banks, and he transports the majority of Imperial Armed Forces on their maneuvers. In short, he is everywhere, Sire. We cannot even gauge the extent of the net he has woven around us.”

The Emperor’s eyes shimmered with surprise and anger. He fussed and fidgeted in disbelief, and looked to his brother for confirmation. Prince Roderick seemed more circumspect. “I will look at your records, have our own Mentats and accountants analyze the connections you suggest … but I suspect you’re right. I was concerned when Directeur Venport recently announced his acquisition of Nalgan Shipping, giving him a virtual monopoly on foldspace transportation. His stranglehold tightens on the Butlerian planets, and the recent defection of Baridge is only the first of many, I suspect.”

“He means to smother the Butlerian movement!” Dorotea was unable to hide her alarm. “If he allows thinking machines to return, we could all be enslaved again—”

While Salvador stared at him, unsure of what to do, Roderick lifted a finger to silence her. “There is a vast gulf between allowing the use of a machine and becoming enslaved by a computer overlord. Manford Torondo’s ‘slippery slope’ warnings hold more hysteria than reality.”

When Dorotea attempted to argue and defend the Butlerian position, Roderick’s voice took on an edge. “Directeur Venport is clearly dangerous and ambitious, but he doesn’t incite mindless riots in the streets … mobs that kill little girls.”

Dorotea swallowed, listening to the sharp slap of his words. She had made her point, and the Corrino brothers did see the extent of Venport’s schemes, but Roderick had no love for the Butlerians either. And the Emperor would do whatever his brother advised.

After a long silence, Roderick added, “Although I have no fondness for the Butlerians, if Sister Dorotea is correct, the influence of Manford Torondo pales in comparison to Directeur Venport’s. We may have to force both of them to their knees.”

And how will you get the power to do that? Dorotea thought, but did not dare to speak aloud.

Salvador was exasperated. “Is the whole Imperium going mad? Venport can’t do these things without my permission! Where will he stop? Does Josef Venport want my throne, too?”

It sounded like a joke, but Dorotea nodded. “Perhaps so — if you get in his way.”

Chapter 42 (Those Sisters flock together like birds — carrion birds)

Sister Arlett spent years out in the planets of the Imperium doing missionary and recruitment work for the Sisterhood, and when she returned she made her way to their new school on Wallach IX. She wasn’t exactly exiled, but Arlett had been encouraged to do her work far from Rossak, searching for candidates who would benefit from Sisterhood instruction.

Of the dozens of missionaries, Raquella kept particularly close watch over Arlett’s activities, because Arlett was her own daughter. And Dorotea, now the Emperor’s Truthsayer, was Arlett’s daughter, although Arlett didn’t know it. A tangled web of DNA strands …

As such, the Mother Superior felt that Arlett might be useful. Even though Arlett had never attempted the Agony, had never become a Reverend Mother, perhaps she would make an effective, unofficial envoy to the orthodox Sisters on Salusa Secundus. Maybe Arlett could be the first step to healing the schism.

Years ago, Reverend Mother Raquella had sent Arlett away when she refused to choose the good of the Sisterhood over love for her new baby, Dorotea. Raquella knew she was loyal to the Sisterhood, in her own way, and she had almost—almost—forgiven Arlett after her remarkable success in recruiting the talented Valya Harkonnen on Lankiveil.

But the old wounds were reopened when Dorotea survived the Agony and learned the truth of her own bloodline from the voices in Other Memory. Arlett did not know that Sister Dorotea was her long-lost daughter … but Dorotea knew. Maybe one of her internal voices was that of her own mother.…

So, when Arlett presented herself to the ancient Mother Superior in her Wallach IX offices, Raquella felt unexpected joy to see her. She had no room in her busy life for love, though, especially now when the Sisterhood was so diminished and her own time so short.

With a glance, Raquella assessed the dark-haired Arlett, noting that she had her mother’s lanky frame, upturned nose, and pale blue eyes. After so many years away, the missionary Sister had changed — but the Sisterhood training was so ingrained in her that it could never be taken away. If that were true of all Sisters, then even Dorotea might be salvageable.

Arlett sighed and sat in the proffered chair, but she remained tense. “I’ve seen so many worlds that I have fallen behind in the changes at the Sisterhood. I need to know what happened on Rossak, why some Sisters are now in the Imperial Court while others are here.”