The master held a flower in his hand, and the crowd stood in silence. One among the crowd saw it, and smiled. "It is done," the master said, "I shared my most precious teaching with that man."
- THE ZENSUNNI WANDERER
Visellla was dreaming. No, a nightmare. She rolled around, her identity sticking like molasses to her bed sheets, staining her pillow. Her body was not her self. Her identity was scattered, leaked, attached to the objects around her who were her, not her body. Her awareness was still in her body, disconnected from the many particles of self that floated and rolled, impossible to grasp, impossible to collect back ever again. She was not one, but many. Many who were not coming back. Her body was independent, her mindless center. Her mind had scattered away, superfluous.
She woke up and the sunlight blinded her. She had no name. In the beginning, there is no mind. But that was a well-formed memory, and her mind emerged back. She felt a sense of loss, fumbled to remember her name, her place, her time.
Visella's awareness emerged into the morning, light bathing her bedroom. Her mind-baggage was always with her. She stood up. Senseless anxiety gripped her. Just the attempt to escape thinking required the thing she was trying to escape. She felt pitiful. The years of training, erased. She was naked, untrained, like a baby, a rough surface. Her pulse quickened. The walls stood menacing around her, taking her breath away. She ran out to the balcony, words coming out of her automatically as she attempted to control her breathing:
"There is no I, there is no mind, there is no pain; my body breathes, my awareness learns; with beginner's eyes every instant starts anew; the cosmos is my home, my body is my house. May all obstacles be removed; may they be none; may they be pacified."
Her pulse slowed down. Took the fangs off of reality, reduced it back to mundanity.
Her Other Memories were quiescent.
She strode out.
Visella, not Visella.
I am governor, no governor.
But Leerna was awaiting her: "Good Morning, Reverend Mother. Ready for take-off?"
This society which had adopted her had perfected a long, tapered, elegant model of airship which took off vertically but landed horizontally. G-acceleration was a fraction of that of a lift off to space, but Visella's body had not experienced a sub-orbital flight in ages and was ready to feel weightless and nauseous. Instead, normal gravity oppressed her against her seat. She made eye contact with Leerna, whose distraught face showed one who was not for air travel. Visella extended a hand to hold hers: "I am not comfortable either, but I found that abandoning your body to the acceleration generates less fear than resisting it. Let it caress your skin." Leerna's body stiffened for a moment, then she observed how hard she tried to relax, smiling back to her. I almost ended her life, and she admires me. This trip was a good opportunity to address that once and for all.
With their altitude and speed, they reached the rim of the southern continent in an hour. It was the smallest of the six continents of Agarath, a tropical land in the shape of a crescent a good three thousand miles wide, a snow-capped ridge on the outer side, rainforest, plains and plantations on the other. And three hundred million citizens, organic and inorganic ones. And she governed them, out of elections she had not been a spectator of, out of an administrative machine she had just begun to grasp. The airplane cameras were too conspicuous for her taste, but she had come to terms with the mandatory surveillance of its leaders. Recorded in the eye of the public. She was aware there were daily and weekly briefs about her (quite repetitive) life. As she stepped out of the vehicle, she was pleased to see that there was no crowd, at least not yet. Traveling incognito was not a possibility while followed by live camera feeds, but if they moved swiftly, they could enjoy a moment of tranquility.
And absolutely no formalities. Thanks to the ever-useful Leerna, minutes later they were eating at a local eatery, savoring the local soft-shell crabs drowned in a pungent plum sauce. A flavor so fresh and intense overcame her senses, and words failed to describe it. For a fleeting moment, she achieved that no mind state: no Visella, just flavor overpowering her decision centers. Where was she again?
Flashback to another of Master Reta's lessons. They were getting more and more theoretical as the time passed. "You cannot take all the data in your mind – as long as you identify as one. The vestiges of what you were taught saddle you down. What you learned was useful at the time, but then the vivid experience of it fades, and only a bland memory is retained. Useless, as it is. Too much baggage! You know you are not what you think you are, and the only way through is by stripping your mind bare."
Reality came back. She was still at the restaurant. Distracted, she had missed Leerna's words. She asked her to repeat them: "So what was your life like before this planet?"
Visella smiled as memories from a not so distant past came rushing in. Cold planets, hot planets, solitude. The morning hours spent perfecting the Voice for her unsuspecting crowds. That rush did not shake her identity like the flavor had done; it was a stabilizing comfort, a longing for other places, other company. Her Other Memories fished for the word to give it justice: saudade.
"As you know I was... I am an agent for the Missionaria Protectiva. I have lived quite the nomad life, moving from system to system."
"Such a thrilling life! What is the most interesting planet you have visited?"
Planet. That word unlocked another thought. "When we truly become ourselves, we are just a swinging door, belonging and not belonging. It's a sudden realization. The water that was transparent to the fish, becomes visible, it cannot be taken for granted. What would we breathe, without air? We all are at the crossing of a million planets. Each one of us is the center of everything, and yet in somebody's orbit. We are independent and dependent."
"My Sisters and I," replied Visella, "had our hands full most of the time, but I remember Clavicond fondly." She looked around, realizing she had barely registered the patrons around her, an exact 50/50 split between humans and thinking machines. "The cycles of nature are so finely synchronized that people gather above the great plains to see millions of spring flowers blooming at the same exact second. It's an explosion of color to take your breath away. And the people are carefree, gregarious, and generous beyond... beyond reality; their joy as explosive as those flowers."
"How far is this planet?" Leerna asked. Visella kept looking around, observing androids and humans casually sharing meals. Will she be able to think about all of them as just people, notwithstanding their incredible differences?
"Too far," she continued. "It was incredible for a while, but it was a soft planet. A rarity. The absence of tension was devouring its inhabitants. We came only in time."
"And what was your cure, Reverend Mother?"
"Belief."
"Is the Missionaria all about planted superstitions, then?"
Visella hesitated, not knowing whether her discussion was going to be recorded and broadcasted. "Not all people are ready to sacrifice themselves in the spiritual search that will transform them, Leerna. There are stages in spiritual education. For each courageous soul there are a million more who will be content to wisen up with some packaged religion."
Why do I show the Bene Gesserit's hand so openly to these people, she asked herself. But this is true even for this credo of theirs. Her inner multitude remained calm. A sense of warmth moved her forward. She took Leerna's hand in hers, spoke to her as much as for the hidden cameras: "I know it looks like selfish manipulation. We feel ambivalent about it too. But we do no harm; teaching the masses requires a degree of simplification. Reducing depths to safe waters. Old lessons are distilled and put on stage with characters the crowds will love and make theirs. The power of hope; solidarity against adversity; the yearning for justice. You can say we cater to spiritual needs and drive the currents our way; but all we do is plant seeds for a more thoughtful humanity."
She could read in Leerna's eyes that she was not making headway.
"Would you say you are giving people the tools to do their own growing up?"
Visella had to admit, she was not sure: "This is where we drop the heavy tools and deploy the chisel. Our adepts, males and females, trained to think, to teach, to overcome themselves. We see the latent talent in individuals and support them onto a path to their own making."
"So long as they align with your dogma." Leerna's eyes remained open wide, absorbing it all. With the eyes of a newborn explore your world. Visella recalled once again the lessons from Master Reta.
"We must make an effort, such that we lose ourselves in the act. In this domain subjectivity and objectivity are not the point. Your mind will be calm but not static, lack of awareness disappearing, awareness itself vanishing. In this unawareness, every effort and idea and thought dissolve."
What is this for, Master? Visella had asked, what is the goal?
"Goal? You open your eyes every morning, you close them at night to sleep. What goal?"
After their meal, they stood up and went into the city, walking through side streets to avoid being noticed. Scent of iodine and bougainvillea. They encountered an old man walking slowly in the opposite direction. Another android. Camouflage? Or deliberate choice? What is age to an android? She had to ask Arbatar.
"Reverend Mother," observed Leerna, "it strikes me that the crowds your Missionaria works with are not made aware of what you do to them." Those words made Visella more sensitive to what the androids' experiment on this planet was about. Teach people while making them aware of the process. "We do though," she replied, "at least with our trainees. And for the work we do with the masses, we do not think you can achieve large scale behavioral change with blunt truths. The subconscious does not call for reality, but for myths it can understand. You need role models and higher ideals."
Leerna nodded. "Except if we start with the individual and go from there," she noted while keeping up with the brisk pace of the Reverend Mother. Now they slowed down as they made their way through a local market. Even with comeyes trained on them, it would be hard for anybody to spot them or recognize them. Smells of spices, coffee and cardamom in the air. Visella raised her voice to make sure Leerna heard: "Individual training does not scale, with less than a single Reverend Mother for every billion humans."
They emerged on the other side of the market, knowing that had they been followed by the press, fans or detractors alike, the crowd of the market would slow them down. More solitude is what Visella was seeking. More memories: "When you finally give up, when there is more want, no more attachment; when you do not try to do something special: that's when you start doing." All those words rang hollow. She could find endless rebukes, sophisms. Shallow, trite! But honesty compelled her to go farther. I have lived long and am embittered by my own cynicism. She needed a breakthrough to grasp the depth of the meaning beyond the shallow surface of the words.
"This way, Reverend Mother," beckoned Leerna, "The location of the press conference is still a couple of miles away." They reached the river, which flew through the center of the city, its shores flat and paved to give way to passer-bys, stalls and kiosks selling refreshments. As planned, they boarded a small water taxi, for another fun detour. Leerna picked the conversation back up: "So, why no androids in the Bene Gesserit?"
That was a disarming question on many levels. Visella stopped to think, then admitted: "Prejudice blinds us. Old fossilized assumptions. The Sisterhood was caught in an absolute. The Old Imperium's legacy and the memories - so vivid! - of the Butlerian Jihad. Not a war against machines, but a war of men against other men wielding automation as means of control. This, though... " and she gestured to the world around her. "I am waking up to new opportunities." She smiled. "But I still call myself a skeptic. I asked people before: how is it to cohabitate with androids? I always get the same answer, which makes me feel estranged, for I see a difference and you do not."
"There is quite a difference, Reverend Mother, but we are born into it. Their minds are similar, faster in many senses, but also... childish." Leerna's voice had become soft and sweet.
"As in, immature?"
"They take more time to learn... the social and emotional skills of our kind."
"Have you ever loved one, Leerna?" Visella guessed. Leerna's face answered for her. She was glowing. How to react? Visella smiled.
"Of course, they all remind us of the cost. His life will outlast mine many times over. And no offspring. But I am the lucky one - I will not have to suffer the loss of a loved one."
Visella held her breath. She could not bring herself to ask the basis of an android's love. From a mental and physical point of view. After crossing the river, they continued to walk briskly toward the convention center. Their minds shifting to the duties of their visit, Leerna swiftly changed the subject. Visella could read her apprehension at having brought Reverend Mother to topics she may recoil from. Yes, these are just my inhibitions, Leerna. "There will be the press, and the local administration waiting to welcome you. There will be a side entrance to the building where security will be waiting. Per your request, after the formal ceremonies and the interviews we have arranged for a dozen or so of the locals to confer with you privately."
"I appreciate you arranging things to suit my curiosity, Leerna. A bit of the local color, will help me think of this job as helping real people. But tell me, why do you work for a government that only purports android representation at the top?"
"You don't understand, Reverend Mother," she reacted surprised, "I ... I don't think they have any interest in governing us. It's a chore they take on willingly. A tax on their faculties. Never have I seen a Sage lust for power."
"Yet they try to style themselves as humans. I heard some androids perceive harmful race differences versus other android groups. How do you reconcile the two facts?" pressed Visella.
"It's similar to.. The children and the doctor."
"Would you care to explain?" Visella asked, intrigued.
"The old fable says that children, left in command, ignored the doctor bringing them bitter medicine. In one version, the children condemn the doctor to death. In another, the children get sick and perish. Androids and humans. Some are children, some are doctors. They... and we... don't program androids to anything but experience life. They are free to make their own choices, just as we do."
Visella did not probe further. It was Leerna's time to question her as they were only a couple of blocks away from the convention center. Attempting to slow their pace, she ventured: "So, do you plan to create a Chapter of the Sisterhood here?"
"Why the question?"
"I am curious to learn. From your kind."
Visella looked up at her tall companion, and re-examined her at a glance, the pensive look, the lively brown eyes, the way she strode with energy and caution at the same time... Leerna, a future Acolyte? A perceptive candidate, for sure. I left her hanging for long enough.
"Leerna, of course. But would the Sages allow me?"
"What have they forbidden you from doing so far?"
"Only to leave."
"Then, why would they care?"
She smiled back: "I won't be able to invite more Reverend Mothers... but I am a builder. I will gladly accept you as my trainee, Leerna, and my first. And... I can't tell you how much it pains me that I put you in a supremely dangerous spot due to my actions. On my spaceship."
"And I am still upset, Reverend Mother." Leerna blushed, stumbling for a moment.
Such candor is precious. Visella stopped: "I was very selfish, and careless, and learned a profound lesson about human life that day on the tarmac. Afterwards, I could only feel remorse. There wasn't a day I would not ask Arbatar about you while you were recovering. My actions were despicable, and while I do not deserve to be forgiven, I beg your forgiveness nonetheless."
It seemed a knot had unraveled inside Leerna. "It is yours, Reverend Mother. But... I want to be like you."
"And you will, then. Only..."
"There is no spice here." They resumed walking. The noise hinted at crowds hurrying toward the convention center, which occupied an entire city block in front of them.
"You seek the touch of the blue on your eyes? I am sorry. Maybe a way will open. But it's not for me to promise."
"I know the spice is what opens the window to other lives. But the other skills, will I achieve them?"
"If you don't obsess over them. See, the skills are the byproduct. We focus on what makes us human. A way to learn. The rest comes in time." She paused, puzzle pieces suddenly settling in place in her mind. When you do not try to do something special: that's when you start doing. "But yes, my skills, you will learn them. They will be free of consequences, except if you ever try the spice. It's only then that the transformation comes at a cost."
"What cost?" They had reached their entrance. Leerna signaled security to make way. She seemed disappointed at the prospect of ending their conversation.
They strode in, but Visella kept on while following her: "It is impossible to see humanity the same again. It looks like... children, starting fresh a single existence, without the echo of the eras, blind cells driven by primordial instincts, and the imprint of society. Lacking stability, direction, purpose. Except of course, we also are single-existence cells, wading through the currents, but we deeply question our motives and our actions, build moats and dams and overflow canals to nudge the children to grow up."
"Do you still feel part of humanity, Reverend Mother?"
"I do, and I don't," she replied. Another puzzle piece went click. A swinging door, belonging, and not belonging.
"It is true that you are so alike, then," observed Leerna, speeding across the entrance
"Pardon me, Leerna?"
"The Sages, and you."
They entered a small antechamber. Duty compelled them to be ready for protocol. Visella paused, then declared: "We start tonight, then."
"My training? What will I bring?"
"Two hands, two eyes, and a mind."
Memories of countless Bene Gesserit lessons across so many Reverend Mothers surfaced in Visella's mind. Vivid experiences, but faded in the long journey of this body.
It was all a blur after that - meeting local officials, room after room after room, and emerging out into the amphitheater of the convention center. It was a singular construction, impossibly elongated pylons reaching high to the sky, with vines clinging to them taller than sequoias, and the transparent dome that made her feel she was in a dish surrounded by the jungle. The roaring crowds had filled the space to the brim, echoes of shouts and music and that vast feeling of being surrounded by an ocean of bodies. Big screens showed the live feed of her facial expressions as she walked the stage, all eyes trained on her. Their fascination with me is still a puzzle to me, but one I will use when needed. The master of ceremonies led to the introductions and finally to her, standing in her casual civilian dress (no aba!), opening her arms like she would have done as a Missionaria adept, but no religion nor rites were there acting as a filter between her experience and the one of the people around her. So, so many of them. A multitude. As she stood there, a deafening silence fell over the amphitheater, a cleansing silence, a thoughtless silence, an intense moment of anticipation. Stripping my mind bare.
She looked up at the sky visible through the transparent dome above.
Raindrops falling from the deep blue.
Swishing sounds of cold rain rushing to meet the land.
A fly buzzed by her ear.
Humidity in the air.
A gentle smile.
A sudden force, carving the sky with the blinding flight of lightning.
The explosion of thunder, the air shook by vibrations.
Her mind is struck by the light; her skin shook alive, thunder tearing through layers of callousness. A silent detonation. A new innocent presence, newborn awareness, breaks through.
And like that, in the instant of revelation, she was none.
The speech in public, that was old hat. The flow of energy between her and the crowd.
An economy of mind and thought had taken over. No wasteful thinking. Silence in her mind and happiness within.
That evening, after the return flight, she said: "Show me your hand," to the new Acolyte.
It was clarity of vision.
A Memory intruded briefly: "Remember to smell the flowers. That's what is worth living for, my dear."
She had chosen right, embarking on that flight.
The night passed.
The sun rose again.
Visella woke up screaming, for she could not see; and wailed, for she could not hear herself scream. It was gone. Mute, deaf and blind. She cursed at Arbatar in Sicel and Elymian, except no one could hear, let alone understand her.