"Brian Herbert & Kevin J. Anderson - Dune 09 - House Corrino" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank)

When we try to conceal our innermost drives, our entire being screams betrayal.

тАФ Bene Gesserit Teaching

IT PAINED LADY ANIRUL TO SEE THE TRUTHSAYER Lobia dying on a woven mat
in her austere apartment. Ah, my friend, you deserve so much more than this.

The ancient Sister had weakened in recent years but clung tenaciously to life. Rather than returning
to the familiar halls of the Mother School on Wallach IX, as was her right, Lobia insisted upon
continuing her duties for the Golden Lion Throne. Her marvelous mindтАФwhat she called her "most
precious possession"тАФremained sharp. As the Imperial Truthsayer, Lobia faithfully ferreted out
lies and deceit spoken in the presence of Shaddam IV, though the Emperor rarely showed any
appreciation of her.

Now the fading woman looked up at Anirul, who stood haloed by the gentle light of glowglobes,
her shadowed face concealing tears. This old Sister was her closest confidante in the immense
Palace, not merely a fellow Bene Gesserit, but also a spry and fascinating person with whom she
could share her thoughts and secrets. Now she was dying.

"You will be fine, Mother Lobia," Anirul said. The plastone walls of the sparse, unheated room
retained a chill that penetrated to the bone. "I think you are getting stronger."

The old woman's answer was like crackling, dry leaves. "Never lie to a Truthsayer . . . especially
not the Emperor's Truthsayer." It was an oft-repeated admonition. Lobia's rheumy eyes danced with
self-deprecating mirth, even as her chest labored to maintain the rhythm of breathing. "Have you
learned nothing from me?"
"I have learned that you are stubborn, my friend. You should allow me to call for the Medical
Sisters. Yohsa can tend to your illness."

"The Sisterhood doesn't need me alive any longer, child, no matter how much you might wish it.
Do I need to chide you for having feelings, or should I save us both the embarrassment?" Lobia
coughed, then went through the calming regimen of Bindu Suspension, taking two deep breaths and
completing the ritual. Her respiration became smooth, as if she were a young woman again, without
the concerns of mortality. "We were not meant to live forever, though with the voices in Other
Memory, it might seem so."

"I think you just enjoy challenging my preconceptions, Mother Lobia." They often swam together
in the Palace's underground canals; they played intense strategy games, staring at each other for
hours, winning through ninute nuances. Anirul did not want to let go.

Though the ancient Truthsayer lived in the lavish Imperial Palace, :here were no adornments on the
walls of her quarters, no carpets on the tardwood floors. Lobia had removed the original opulent
paintings, plush mported rugs, and prismatic-film window coverings. "Such creature com-orts
clutter the mind," she had told Anirul. "Personal objects are a waste >f time and energy."

"And does the human mind not create these luxuries?" Anirul coun-ered.

"Superior human minds create marvelous things, but thickheaded peo->le lust after them for their
own sake. I prefer not to be thickheaded."