Lessons and Rebellion (cca. 10,118)

[Elisha Montague]

The hunter-seeker drifted lazily over the simple wooden writing desk which was one of the few pieces of furniture in the sparsely appointed Bene Gesserit dormitory. Elisha Montague was sitting cross-legged on her bed, completely motionless and to all but the best trained observer unbreathing, all of her attention focussed on the small sliver of dull grey metal which floated maybe five feet from the ground on the other side of the room. Through clear blue eyes which might have been made of glass they moved so imperceptibly she tracked the movement of the threat towards the window through which the cool morning sun of Wallach IX was just beginning to break, every muscle in her body relaxed in the knowledge that the slightest movement would draw the attention of the device, which with its simple programming was designed to home in on the closest moving warm body within range. Having spent her earliest years on the scarred and mechanised industrial world of Allanor, Elisha had heard the childhood scare stories which were later confirmed during the history lectures at the Mother School about the chillingly sophisticated machine intelligence which had once guided such weapons. Those must have been truly terrifying, but she knew well that even this simplistic weapon could be deadly. The tiniest movement would bring it racing towards her, but thanks to the skills painstakingly learned with her Bene Gesserit tutors Elisha made no such movement.

Almost there...

The hunter-seeker cleared the desk and, attracted by the tiny temperature differential between the room and the window, finally turned on its suspensor field so as to face completely away from the young Bene Gesserit. In one fluid movement Elisha was off the bed and across the room, arms extended and fingers tensed ready to grab the floating assassination device. The hunter-seeker was quicker though, spinning on its suspensors and missing her grasping hands by millimetres to thud firmly into her chest.

"Damn it!" exclaimed Elisha as the device, which of course was not armed, bounced harmlessly to the floor leaving more of a bruise on her pride than it did on her body.

Missing a level 4 hunter-seeker for the first time in nearly eight months confirmed her worst fears, that the two weeks of mind-numbing archive duty had sapped her muscle tone and her reflexes. There would have to be extra hours in the gym and the training hall now just to bring herself back to where she was before those stupid Proctors had her stacking books and sorting filmrolls. It was all because of a few alcohol bottles too. Elisha seethed with anger that the cantankerous crones appared to have nothing more pressing with which to worry themselves. Picking up the blunted hunter-seeker she mused about whether or not her reflexes would have been better if the thing had actually had a needle on it. It was of course a pointless question since virgae such as Elisha were not permitted real weapons in their dormitories, but she had certainly heard stories that Adepts and Reverend Mothers practised with devices which were not only armed but even actually poisoned. Perhaps they only reached the perfection to which all Bene Gesserit aspired by genuinely putting their lives in danger. Elisha could certainly see the wisdom in that, and indeed in most of the Sisterhood's physical and mental training methods. It was the dogma regarding obedience and abstinence from personal pleasures which she had more of a problem with and which had been the reason for her recent punishment alongside her best friend Lilith.

We beat them at their own game though! They don't know the prize we secured even while they thought we were learning their lesson!

It was true, for the two of them had sneaked into the archive's infamous restricted area and acquired a map of secret passages around the school compound. This had been in the safe keeping of their other friend Cassandra for the last two weeks in case the Proctors decided to search for it in the rooms of the two disobedient virgae, but they had not done so. Indeed Elisha had Lilith had managed to get away completely with their little act of defiance in the library while simultaneously getting Lilith's pure and virtuous sister Angela into some serious trouble, for which a small part of Elisha felt somewhat guilty. Letting the innocent profictus take the blame for their misdeeds had never been part of the plan, but what was done was done and she had heard enough horror stories about the girl from Lilith that she refused to harbour too much sympathy. Nonetheless it must have been terrifying for someone so unused to punishment to be lead away by the Vice Proctor herself and disciplined as only the Bene Gesserit knew how. Rumour had it that Angela had been given a week's assignment to the school's sanitation crew, though Elisha had perhaps fortunately not encountered her anywhere to see for herself.

That was the past anyway and now was time to focus on the future, and that immediate future was Miral Alechem's Awareness and Sensation Control Techniques, an Introduction course. The opening lecture, entitled "Pain and Pleasure: Two Sides of the Same Coin?" sounded interesting, and Mother Alechem's rather colourful reputation suggested to Elisha that she had come closer by far than any of the other uniformly dogmatic Reverend Mothers to breaking the mold. There was also the matter of the secret passage map to be discussed, with Elisha keen to discover if it would aid them in escaping the compound one night for some fun at the spaceport. Dumping the hunter-seeker in a drawer she pulled on her robe and quickly brushed her hair, which was lengthening and in need of a trim, before hurrying off down the corridor in search of her friends.

[Miral Alechem]

The pale shimmer of the weak, dwarf sun which gradually ascended in the sky above the Motherschool shone its bleak light against the window of Miral Alechem’s classroom. Filtered through the stained glass pane, it enveloped everything in hues of green, yellow and ashen gray; shadows clung to the far side wall and the two rough-built tables positioned against it, conspicuous by their emptiness and the odd, dark blotches which marred the wood . A heavy, forbidding iron door, obviously locked, loomed in the dimness between them; as to what it contained or where it lead to, one could merely guess: no virga had ever seen what lay beyond.

Seated at the desk which overlooked two rows of student tables and chairs was Miral Alechem, draped all in black from the tips of her raven hair to the hem of her featureless aba robe. She was writing, the only noise in the whole room being the scraping of her pen against the ridulian crystal paper. A single glowglobe provided her the needed light. Then, a brief yet decided knock on the door announced a visitor; the Reverend Mother had obviously been expecting it, for she didn’t as much as glance upwards as she instructed flatly:

“Come in."

The newly arrived visitor had pale blond hair and a youthful, almost boyish figure: he was fresh-faced, lean of body, yet the tiny creases around the corners of his eyes and mouth suggested he was not quite a teenager.

“You won’t be needing those. Take off your clothes" Miral Alechem continued, still immersed in her writing, ignoring the youth’s initial reaction:

“…What?" he retorted, and the lines of his handsome face grew hard.

“You heard me."

With swift, mechanical movements, the youth obeyed, removing his cloak, tunic, and the rest of his clothes and placing them onto a nearby chair. He gazed at the woman behind the desk with a mixture of apprehension, confusion and annoyance.

“I thought this was supposed to be a presentation."

At last, Miral put down her pen and turned to face him, beckoning. The Sisterhood employed the services of many males for their uses, but she had purposely chosen one who had not been in their service before. If he had no way of anticipating what was going to happen, the lesson would be so much more relevant.

“It is. Stand here and don’t interfere; do as I say or you can forget your payment."

There was no time for further arguing; outside the door, noise broke out: treading feet, whispering voices, swishing garments. Hastily, Miral activated an additional glowglobe which shone directly above her and the youth, centering attention on them both. Seconds later, the door swung open, admitting in a row of young women between the ages of 18 and 20. None of them knew it, but all had been hand picked by Miral for this demonstration, during which she wished to observe their reactions; maybe among them rested future Acolytes.

Invariably, all eyes turned on the nude figure before them, but nobody dared a more open reaction. As Bene Gesserit Sisters, these girls had been taught their entire lives how to restrain their impulses and keep their emotions hidden. The youth had no such training, and one could see from the way his whole body grew tense that he was fighting disquiet.

“Pleasure and pain…Pain and pleasure…" Miral began once everyone was seated and listening. “One excludes the other. The negative and the positive. Reward and Punishment. The fear and the anticipation. Two utterly distinct notions…that is what you’ve been taught thus far."

Silence was complete; Miral took two steps forward, resting in the youth’s proximity and folding her arms together.

“Nothing could be further from the truth. The human brain perceives them similarly, it is the value that we add to each of them that sets off our primary reaction. Change the value and change perception, thus creating a combination with almost no restrictions, and such results no simple rewards of punishments can achieve, and to a Bene Gesserit, that is supremely useful."

“Reverend Mother…are you saying that you can force someone to perceive pain as pleasure and vice versa?" someone asked. There was a stringent note of skepticism in her voice.

“Precisely. And combine them for even more potent sensory reactions leading, if coached and persisted upon, to helpless addiction."

The two rows of young women shuffled almost imperceptibly in their seats; there was a certain anxiety about the room; everyone knew something was about to happen. The young man still standing, exposed and vulnerable, before them, found it harder and harder to contain his anxiety, but the prospect of money kept him to his promise. Miral reached inside the folds of her robe and extracted a small glittering blade, a dagger. Tension was reaching a boiling point. She drew closer to the youth; without haste, making sure everyone was able to see her movements. And then, she dug the tip of the blade into the rosy skin of his bosom, slicing downwards. A thin crimson stream trickled from the vertical cut; it was not deep, but it must have seared, for the young man winced in pain, stiffening his muscles to repel it, but admirably kept his composure still.

Miral stooped lower, positioning the tip of the dagger against the soft flesh of his lower abdomen, at the very beginning of the left thigh. There she waited an instant, causing a brief shudder to course through his entire body; he gritted his teeth in anticipation of the pain. And the pain came; like before, Miral parted the skin with ease, but did not stop there. Leaning forward, her tongue traced the cut from one end to the other in one insidious lap, gathering the spilled blood, its tip languidly and mercilessly parting the gash wider. The effect was instantaneous: the youth’s rigid features relaxed; his eyes widened in shock, mouth rounded to a perfect O, his upcocked penis betraying the arousal which overcame him so unexpectedly. A soft blush touched his cheeks, very aware of the 10 pairs of female eyes who were watching.

Miral’s demonstration was not over yet. Rising to her full height, she positioned herself behind her subject, dagger clasped firmly in her right hand. With her left, she gripped the back of the young man’s throat, her taloned fingers digging into the skin, forcing his head backwards. She needn’t struggle, for he yielded immediately. With one swift movement, the blade was against the jugular and undoubtedly many thought she was about to spill his life then and there. The youth, however, no longer seemed to care or even be fully aware of his surroundings: eyes rolled back in their sockets, his chest rose and descended heavily, audible breaths leaving his quavering lips in blissful anticipation. He was fully and visibly aroused by then and it seemed that the last remainder of self control was being used to keep himself from falling over. Miral held him for several more moments before retreating brusquely.

“That would be all. You can leave now."The strange spell broken, the blond man stumbled to his feet, suddenly very eager to hide his nudity from the many faces watching him intently, and a sharp eye could have caught the fleeting shadow of disappointment that crossed his features. Dressing clumsily, he muttered a goodbye to Miral and exited the room, deathly silence settling in his wake. The Reverend Mother was alone with her students.

“What you saw was unplanned; he did not know what would happen. With some it is easier, with others harder, but it is, ultimately, only a matter of time."

[Elisha Montague]

Miral Alechem's teaching room was not far from the dormitory and there was not much time for Elisha to do more than exchange a few words and a conspiratorial glance with her two friends before they were being ushered inside by the Reverend Mother's stony-faced acolytes. The low illumination levels and the way the windows were positioned to allow the maximum play of light and shadow immediately caused her to recall Reverend Mother Kovacha's seminars about exploiting one's environment and situation. Obviously this room was designed to appear mysterious and intimidating, to frighten and yet to tantalise. Refusing to allow herself to be phased Elisha settled calmly into her seat and quickly scanned the green and yellow tinted room, hoping to get a measure of the other virgae who had been enrolled alongside her on the Awareness and Sensation course. It was standard practice among the Bene Gesserit to mix up the study groups frequently to avoid breeding familiarity among the junior Sisters and there were nearly always new faces to be seen and faces from the past to be recognised. Lilith sat to her left and further down the row to the right she thought she recognised Nylissit and Jennail Tricou, sisters whom she remembered as being frightfully obsequious girls constantly trying to ingratiate themselves with their teachers. Obsequious but talented she was forced to admit, for if mere boot-licking loyalty were enough to advance within the ranks of the Bene Gesserit then the likes of Helena de la Tour and Lilith's sister Angela would be in this class now rather than among the ranks of the profictuae.

The problem as Elisha saw it was that talent alone was not sufficient either, and the Tricou sisters would probably go far while she was under constant threat of punishment for refusing to emulate their dogmatic acceptance of Sisterhood life. As she expected there were many new faces in the room, students from other cohorts around the vast and sprawling Mother School campus, but Elisha's eyes did not linger on them long for like those of the other girls in the room they were rapidly drawn away from her classmates and towards the naked male standing close to the Reverend Mother at the front of the room. He was moderately attractive she supposed, in an immature sort of way, but slightly too boyish in the figure for Elisha who prefered her men rougher and more muscular. In any case she had encountered enough unclothed men during her previous training that she showed little visible reaction to his presence besides looking him up and down.

"Pleasure and pain…Pain and pleasure…" began Reverend Mother Alechem once the last of the girls had found their seats, “One excludes the other. The negative and the positive. Reward and Punishment. The fear and the anticipation. Two utterly distinct notions…that is what you’ve been taught thus far."

Elisha listened with interest. This was indeed what she had held to be true, except perhaps in the cases of a few sexual deviants. Pain and pleasure were among the most basic, if not the most basic, impulses to drive human behaviour.

"Nothing could be further from the truth. The human brain perceives them similarly, it is the value that we add to each of them that sets off our primary reaction. Change the value and change perception, thus creating a combination with almost no restrictions, and such results no simple rewards of punishments can achieve, and to a Bene Gesserit, that is supremely useful."

The way she said it made it sound plausible enough, but then a skilled orator could make anything sound believable. Not wishing to be overawed even by one with a reputation such as Miral Alechem, Elisha was determined to challenge her assertions with an early question.

"Reverend Mother…" she began, trying to make her tone sceptical without sounding disrespectful for she did not wish to be thrown out of this class before it had even begun, "Are you saying that you can force someone to perceive pain as pleasure and vice versa?"

"Precisely" replied Alechem, "And combine them for even more potent sensory reactions leading, if coached and persisted upon, to helpless addiction."

Elisha was still unconvinced, but decided there was little point in starting an argument so early in the lesson. She would remain to be skeptical though. People were often governed by sensations yes, and could certainly become addicted to them, but she rather doubted that anyone except a genuine masochist could become addicted to pain. Some of the other girls shifted uncertainly in their seats; there was a palpable sense in the room that they were about to witness something. The male at the front of the class was having a difficult time concealing his nervousness but something apparently made him bite his lip and keep his position.Fear no doubt or perhaps infatuation. He is likely a slave or a lover of Alechem's, afraid that either he'll be punished or that he'll lose favour with her.At this point the Reverend Mother's hand disappeared into her robe and brought out a small but wickedly sharp looking blade. All of the girls, Elisha included, leaned forward in their seats as their fascination and the desire to see what their teacher had planned overcame them. With deliberate slowness so as to aid the students' observation Miral Alechem approached the youth, making sure everyone was able to see her movements, and dug the tip of the knife straight into his chest. With the practised movements of one who had done this before, she cut downward leaving a bright red line behind the blade. It was obviously not a deep wound but it must have hurt the boy nonetheless. In spite of this he held his nerve and did not move to escape even as he obviously tensed up with the pain.

Pulling the dagger away from his breast the Reverend Mother turned her attentions to his abdomen, in particular to the top of his left thigh. Elisha almost felt a twinge of anticipation herself as the blade was brought to rest against his skin for a moment before the pain came again. The pain certainly did come again, as the knife gouged a new wound into the youth's flesh, but what happened next came as a surprise to everyone. Reverend Mother Alechem leaned in close and allowed her tongue to run along the cut, licking up the oozing blood while opening the wound a little wider with the tip. Elisha craned forward for a better look, eyes widening in amazement as the boy relaxed completely and shockingly appeared to actually become aroused by this treatment. Alechem now moved swiftly behind the subject, grabbing the back of his neck with her left hand while bringing the dagger up in her right to rest against his throat.

Is she really going to kill him in front of us?! Even if he is a slave or some such surely that would go beyond the bounds of human decency.

To Elisha's shock however the male appeared completely without concern for his life and did not struggle or betray any sense of panic of alarm. Indeed his powerful erection suggested a moment of bliss and enjoyment rather than the fear that he was about to be murdered as part of a class demonstration. She held him there like that for several seconds more, although to Elisha they passed like hours, before suddenly and sharply releasing him and pushing him away

"That would be all. You can leave now."

It was as if a hypnotist had snapped his fingers and brought the man out of a trance, for suddenly he was all embarrassment and awkward fumbling as he hurried to dress himself and escape the watching female eyes. Elisha though thought she caught a strange look pass over his face. Could it have been disappointment? At that point Elisha realised that her own throat was dry and her mouth more open than it should have been. Anxious not to give away her sense of awe to Alechem she snapped it shut and sat up in her seat. This would not do; Elisha Montague questioned the Sisterhood and did not sit there in gaping amazement when its abilities were demonstrated. Quickly refocusing her gaze on the Reverend Mother and once more adopting an attentive posture she thought fast, running what she had just seen over in her head and probing for the flaws which surely had to be there.

"What you saw was unplanned" continued Alechem, "he did not know what would happen. With some it is easier, with others harder, but it is, ultimately, only a matter of time."

Still feeling a touch of inner embarrassment at being so distracted by the spectacle, Elisha's mind raced as she sought possible explanations for what she had seen. There must have been something more behind the boy's behaviour. The Elacca drug for example was known to remove a subjects desire for self-preservation. True he had not displayed the telltale orange flush that would betray its use, but she could well imagine that the Sisterhood might have found ways to counteract that or other drugs which acted similarly but without the side-effects. The Bene Gesserit were also skilled in the arts of mental conditioning. Perhaps Alechem had used the Voice on the youth prior to their entry, although she had to admit that his actions pushed the limits of what she had seen people do even under such influence. The Reverend Mother was now standing expectantly at behind her desk awaiting comments or questions from her students, and Elisha was determined to give her exactly that.

"Reverend Mother, surely what we just saw have been achieved through the use of drugs or neuro-linguistic conditioning?" she began, not quite outright accusing Alechem of staging the event they had just witnessed but coming perhaps dangerously close, "It is also said that there are certain individuals, masochists and other deviants, who respond atypically to pleasure/pain stimuli. Those individuals are comparatively rare though. Are you really telling us that any typical human can be rendered thus?"

[Lilith Piacevole]

Lilith Piacevole sat, fully clothed, on top of her bed, the sheets crumpled beneath her, exposing in places the mattress underneath. Robes in various stages of cleanliness cluttered the desk opposite her bed; a trait atypical for Bene Gesserit quarters which were kept in perfect order. Lilith’s very appearance was messier than usual even for her, poorly combed hair drooping around her face, a curtain of coppery strands sheltering her eyes from plain view. If one peered closer, they would have noticed the frozen rigidity of her mouth, pursed to a displeased pout, as her eyes gazed downwards at a piece of paper she kept fidgeting with.

The first two lines, written in Galach in bold letters, said: “Awareness and Sensation Control Techniques, an Introduction course. Pain and Pleasure: Two Sides of the Same Coin?", the title of the upcoming seminar she and other Virgae were to participate in briefly. It was not the seminar, but the one presiding it who vexed Lilith so: Miral Alechem. She remembered well her last encounter with Alechem, the ease with which she had been rendered utterly exposed, emotionally naked, her innermost thoughts and feelings held on display. They said Truthsayers came as close as one could get to reading another’s mind, recording and interpreting even the most minute gestures, down to the variable frequency of their subject’s heart beats.

“Oh, snap out of it, Lilith Piacevole! Look at yourself, no better than a shrinking Innitiae! This is exactly what they want: to scare you! She is no different!"

A low growl emitting from her throat, Lilith leaped off the bed and reached for a nearby basin full of water; gathering some in her cupped palms, she splashed it against her face, at once feeling her mind clearing. What foolish notion, to give the insufferable crones the very thing they expected from her: doubt and fear! Besides, she had other things to look forward to that day: the chance to finally examine the map they had skillfully secured from the Archives’ famous Restricted Area and perhaps plan their next outing to the Spaceport. Tedious library duty, all the extra hours she has had to take in order to keep up with her studies and now Alechem’s last minute class had built up a lot of pressure she was looking forward to relieve.

Tucking rebel hair behind her ears, Lilith discarded the piece of paper on the floor and with a sharp snap of a door closing, she was gone. In the corridor, she was reunited with Elisha, signaling to Cassandra as well as soon as the girl came into view; seven or so other virgae such as themselves were gathered there, some which Lilith had never seen before, and some familiar faces, she noted through slitted eyelids: the Tricou sisters! If Angela had passed her virga test, she would have been a very copy of those two vile, toading little…The feeling of motion around her plucked Lilith away from her dark musings; they were being admitted into Miral Alechem’s class at last.

To her relief, facing the situation alleviated her anxiety – there was even a twinge of anticipation: given the Reverend Mother’s reputation and the sudden manner in which she had summoned them, it was safe to assume this would be no regular seminar. And indeed, the presence of an entirely naked male, on display before them, vouched for that.

“Sexual education? Impossible..!" had been Lilith’s first thought. Nearing Acolyte stage, the girls’ sexual talents had been carefully honed years before – there were no innocents among the Bene Gesserit. Lilith’s own virginity had been lost on such an occasion, and she recalled the overpowering feeling of having been violated which had ensued. She had found no comfort in the hardened faces of the Proctors, who had chided: “Be glad it was so, girl, and not a man who would chain you to him through the bond of your virginity and claim your senses in debilitating love". That thought ultimately brought comfort; there was undeniable truth in it. Granted, she had never been the romantic sort, and men enticed her to one thing alone.

As suspected, Miral Alechem’s lesson challenged standard Sisterhood teachings openly. From where she sat, all Lilith had to do is observe: a soft blush and a subtle scowl touched the lines of Nylissit Tricou’s face – her sister was less easy to read. Obviously, the strict, traditional Virgae did not enjoy the presentation. Lilith’s gaze was soon torn away from her companions, drawn by the scene unfolding at the front of the class. For a fleeting moment she wished she could have been in Alechem’s stead, and twist the knife deeper. She found herself disliking the youth profusely, without even knowing why: there was that haughty glint in his eyes, perhaps. Not so haughty once the Reverend Mothered rendered him limp as a cloth, though, Lilith sneered. Fear she had expected, but arousal? Pain as pleasure, pleasure as pain…and the creation of a pliant slave. Still, she could not help but share Elisha’s skepticism – maybe because it was in her nature to challenge and question all things, especially those of Bene Gesserit notion – as tempting as it was to believe one could become addicted to pain as to a potent narcotic, was Alechem over-exaggerating her own abilities? Obviously, Elisha thought so too, for she immediately challenged her. Grasping the opportunity, Lilith added:

“Also, Reverend Mother, if I may add…even if someone became enslaved through this method, where would one draw the line? Addicts are dangerous, and have the tendency to require larger and larger amounts of whatever it is they are dependent upon for their “fix". Surely, someone deeply addicted to pain would eventually reach a stage where the dose needed to sustain their addiction would be fatal, or at least crippling, mentally or physically, or both."

[Miral Alechem]

This was the moment she had been waiting for. Sitting upstraigh in her chair, Miral Alechem’s indigo blue eyes moved from one face to the other in silent appraisal. In the aftermath, two rows of gostly pale young women stared back at her through the greenish dimness which filled the room, and Miral could almost hear their minds working restlessly, processing the new information. These girls were the best of the best; but only a few, if any, would be of any interest to Miral. At last, someone spoke.

"Reverend Mother, surely what we just saw have been achieved through the use of drugs or neuro-linguistic conditioning? It is also said that there are certain individuals, masochists and other deviants, who respond atypically to pleasure/pain stimuli. Those individuals are comparatively rare though. Are you really telling us that any typical human can be rendered thus?"

Several heads swung in the direction of Elisha Montague as she uttered those words; there was a touch of alarm in their eyes. Accusing a Reverend Mother of falsity, even covertly, was treading on extremely thin ice, especially when the Reverend Mother in question happened to be Miral Alechem. Everyone knew her punishments went beyond the customary Bene Gesserit disciplinary measures, though none could tell what they consisted of. However, to their surprise, Miral’s lips curled into something which resembled an appreciative smile:

“Good!” she roared, causing several people to flinch. “Don’t take anything for granted, even what you learn in this school!” Some more flinches, particularly from those Sisters of a more dogmatic disposition. “Closing one’s mind to different possibilities is a dangerous trap; one becomes stagnant, and predictable, thus vulnerable.”

Miral rose from her chair in a swift, fluid motion which brought her tall figure to an upright position, arms folded inside her robes. She took a few steps towards Elisha Montague as she spoke:

“Is it possible to achieve a similar effect through use of drugs and neuro-linguistic conditioning? Yes. But is it desirable? What would have been the point in wasting time with them here? As you will discover, drugs are unreliable. Their influence is limited by time and often produces unwanted side effects. They can be traced, and recognized by those trained to see such signs. Neuro-linguistic conditioning also has its limitations; in most cases, the one casting it needs to be present, which is a great disadvantage. More powerful types of conditioning, such as post-hypnotic suicide compulsion don’t have that limitation, however the subject becomes a ticking time bomb; whether one tries to lift the conditioning or trigger it, death is the only outcome. And yes, Sister Montague, I am indeed saying any human can be rendered thus. This, too, is a form of conditioning. In reality, masochists and deviants make the least desirable subjects; they are easily subdued, yes, but also least reliable. They would do anything for their “fix”, even if someone else than their master provided it. No; strong willed individuals are best; the more unwilling the subject is at first, the higher the level of loyalty will be once the process is completed, if it is successful. The following phrase would surmise it: take away everything they think they have, and give them back what you want them to desire.”

Nobody dared to comment on this extraordinary statement. There was a subtle shift in the girls’ demeanor; eyes sparkled with either renewed interest or deepened revulsion, and the next question came from Lilith Piacevole.

“Also, Reverend Mother, if I may add…even if someone became enslaved through this method, where would one draw the line? Addicts are dangerous, and have the tendency to require larger and larger amounts of whatever it is they are dependent upon for their “fix". Surely, someone deeply addicted to pain would eventually reach a stage where the dose needed to sustain their addiction would be fatal, or at least crippling, mentally or physically, or both."

“It is a possibility, yes.” Miral admitted flatly. “That is the reason why subjects are not selected randomly. A Sister trained in this way would first have to observe the person’s behaviour, and test their resolve before making the decision. Weak willed individuals are dangerous as I stated before; however there have been recorded cases when a subject’s mind was shattered by the converging force of his unwillingness to succumb and the eventual submission. Nothing comes without risk, but bear in mind, for this is very important: one does not give in to the slave’s desires; never give them the impression they receive anything more than they have earned, for if you do, the roles have shifted.”

Silence settled once more; disturbed only by the soft treading of Miral’s feet. After what felt like hours, a single hand shot in the air; it belonged to Jennail Tricou, who appeared to have been silently debating whether to speak or not, for when Miral nodded, she blurted out a long tirade. As usual, Jennail sounded like she had swallowed the textbook:

“But Reverend Mother, as the Bene Gesserit Doctrine for Neuro and Lingustic Conditioning of Individuals clearly states, reward and punishment are two clearly distinct notions, and should not be handed out casually, yet both may achieve equally satisfactory results, depending on the individual and situation. But if they are mixed or reversed, the consequences might as well be unpredictable, even disastrous. Also, Voice compulsion and nerve stimulation have been known to produce spectacular outcomes, and it is usually known that…”

“Usually!” snapped Miral. “As you will discover, Sister Tricou, a Bene Gesserit does not deal in probabilities. Furthermore, if I had wanted a full textbook passage recited to me, I would have asked for one. I will not pretend this set of techniques can be taught to everyone, just as it can’t be applied to everyone. The select few who posses the predisposition will discover how easily it is to fall in the trap of their own assumed knowledge.”

Jennail Tricou sat back in her chair, lips pursed to the thinnest of thin lines; a soft blush touched her cheeks, betraying her anger; if there was anything she despised, was to be told she wasn’t good enough for a class.

“That, however, is not a lesson I will teach today; but some of you may yet learn it in the future. Class dismissed.”

One by one, the girls rose to their feet and exited the room. A general murmur of voices and the noise of chairs being shifted across the floor replaced filled the air; Miral Alechem sat back down at the desk, resuming her writing.

[Elisha Montague]

Elisha cast her eyes among her classmates as they filed out of the teaching hall, observing anger and embarrassment still on the face of Jennail Tricou while a number of other Sisters wore looks of bewilderment and shock. Reverend Mother Alechem's demonstration had certainly been an awe-inspiring one, but Elisha was now thinking less about the actions she had witnessed and more about Miral's reaction to her question. She had been expecting a haughty rebuke, for the Reverend Mother to swiftly dismiss her doubts as if swatting a fly, or perhaps even anger that she had dared ask the question at all. Certainly she had not imagined that she would be almost commended for challenging the authority of their teacher. Could this mean that there was more to Miral Alechem's colorful reputation than met the eye?

Might she actually understand why I question? Could she appreciate how I feel?

Although it was well hidden behind her outwardly rebellious and authority-defying persona there did exist a side to Elisha that wanted oh so desperately to believe, to belong. Indeed she had arrived on Wallach IX fervently hoping that she would find the place and purpose for herself within the Sisterhood that as a mere fifth daughter she would never have had at home. It had not happened of course, for her questioning nature and unwillingness to accept things at face value always got in the way, but the Reverend Mothers were aware that subconsciously Elisha Montague desired to fit in. Several had attempted to play on this desire before; the stern old crones who took on an almost grandmotherly concern in an attempt to win her over, the honorable instructors who appealed to her respect for the Sisterhood's martial traditions, and even the steely Magda Kovacha who had wrapped herself in her comparatively youthful appearance and played on the notion that she had more in common with her young charge than with the hierarchy above and around her. Elisha knew very well that they were all consummate actors however, trained in the finest Sisterhood techniques of psychological manipulation that she herself was learning, able to wear any mask and don any persona as it suited them. Behind every false overture of support or solidarity lay the harsh reality that to make a role for herself among the ranks of the Bene Gesserit she would have to cast off her own beliefs and submit to the all-powerful dogma of Sisterhood practice.

Could Miral Alechem really be different? Did today's display really suggest that she had forced the order to accept her on her own terms, or was it just another carefully choreographed act which kept the iron fist of Bene Gesserit authority hidden in the velvet glove of acceptance? Elisha had seen through the others in a moment, but with Miral she felt there was something different at work.Could it be possible through sheer ability and force of will to make the Sisterhood accept me like they have accepted her? Now however there was no more time for introspection, for the gaggle of young females had exited the classroom and was beginning to break up. Elisha needed to turn her mind to more pressing matters, to the spaceport expedition that she and her friends had planned. The map from the library would help surely, but there had been no sign of their other friend in Mother Alechem's lesson. Elisha felt sure that someone of Cassandra's ability would have been picked for the class, so it must be that she had been detained somewhere. Perhaps the Proctors had caught her with the stolen map! That really would wreck all, but just as the worry was beginning to rear its head it was cut down by the welcome sight of Cassandra beckoning to them from across the hallway. Lilith had obviously noticed too, and in a moment the three friends were huddled together in a quiet and shady corner ready to discuss their next move.

"what did I miss?" asked Cassandra.

"Quite a show actually, wouldn't you say?" replied Elisha airily, casting a quick knowing glance at Lilith but keen to hide just how profoundly the experience had affected her.She wondered if she could really conceal her feelings from her closest friend though, for she could see in Lilith's eyes that something had been stirred within her too, and she would not be surprised to find herself just as readable.

[Lilith Piacevole]

Lilith pursued the ranks of Virgae swiftly filtering out of Miral Alechem’s classroom in silence, only peripherally aware of the noise and movement around her, the many treading feet and shoulders brushing over her own. The young woman’s mind was still back in the room they were leaving behind, immersed in the recent events; the lesson had affected her in an unexpected way, as if she had finally caught a clear glimpse of that which she coveted most: knowledge and power that was refused to them as they were being indoctrinated, thrown back into rows of identical, faceless women, commanded to obey.

“Imagine having such power…” she mused, half awed, half apprehensive. Doubt was creeping back into her mind: could this have been yet another careful machination deviced by the Bene Gesserit in order to induce a false sense of freedom and security, another invisible snare coiling around their necks? And then, against herself, Lilith could not suppress the feeling that she would have accepted the snare in exchange for that kind of abilities…just for a while, until she had the power to tear it away…

"What did I miss?"

Noticing Cassandra Deucatur, Lilith abandoned her private thoughts at once, hasty to rearrange her features into what she hoped was a relaxed, unconcerned expression, as she and Elisha slipped into a corner together with their other friend to talk.

"Quite a show actually, wouldn't you say?" commented Elisha casually, but a glimpse at her friend’s face told Lilith she, too, had experienced something in that classroom. She wondered what, but would not have dared to ask, fearful of revealing her own hidden feelings.

“Oh yes,” she agreed, her usual sarcastic smirk in place. “Even better than a Jongleur performance, really. That is, if you enjoy blood play…”

She proceeded to give Cassandra a short account of their lesson, scrutinizing her for reactions. And then, she remembered something…

“Where have you been anyway? You’ve just given Alechem a good excuse for another detention…nothing happened to our map, right?” she added in barely more than a whisper, glancing nervously around to see whether anyone was listening.

“Let’s go tomorrow evening, it’s Saturday.” Lilith grinned, in that telltalle, consipring way of hers. “I can’t stand another week of this place without a sort of outlet…I could really do with a few bottles of spice beer. What do you say?” she added, looking from Cassandra to Elisha and back.