Think of the male peacock; isn't marvelous the expenditure of energies and resources that goes into creating its luxurious feather wheel and iridescent colors? And it even makes it more visible to predators. Why does it do it? Of course, it is an incredible display of resource surplus, of wealth, demonstrating fit-to-survival to potential mates. Similarly, when examining societies, be on the lookout for conspicuous consumption. The beautiful dress, the shining feathers and the long trains; expensive means of transport and costly memberships giving access to even more costly places. Societies teem with accessories with no apparent utility; cosmetic body modifications chasing socially-sanctioned ideals of perfection. But useless equals useful. The genes want to win in the race for self-perpetuation. This subtle underground tension shapes so many human rituals, many of which are so far removed from the original goal of reproduction. This tension is sublimed into intellectual endeavors, societal status, arts patronage, altruism, self-worth and even self-loating behaviors, you name it. It sees no boundaries, does not stop at language, gender, sexual orientation, history. Our rationality is wired to obey first and foremost to that biological imperative.
- THE ECOLOGISTS' MANIFESTO
"Satin black it is," deliberated Murbella, white-dressed, standing on top of the sea of garments, fabrics and dresses scattered from one edge of the wardrobe room to the other. "Make me one in satin black, use metal, and I want heavy boots to pair. It must look like," she glanced around, looking at the other women in the room, "we are going to war."
Angelika and Bellonda nodded, dissimulating their boredom. Seamstress Choli watched amusingly. What was a simple clothing decision had turned into a full Council session. The austere Ashala had the hood of her plain black aba up, trying to dodge the others' gaze.
Murbella had insisted they shadowed her for the entire week. Master Zoel's bald head rose up, breaking out of his silence to point to a leather belt. "Leather," he recommended, then went back to playing the part of Murbella's leashed pet, eyes attentive and absorbing, a little too quiet.
"Ladies?" Mother Superior inquired.
"Black is the symbol of death. Could be interpreted as a bad omen. But sating provides a sheen, it can be interpreted as a rite of passage from death to a new life, but without having reemerged yet," were Bellonda's words, improvising on the fly aesthetic principles that were uniquely her own. That was an impressive show, thought Murbella, of Bellonda trying to be amenable.
"While we decide, shall we go over the new climate change report?" asked Murbella, always parallel processing.
"Can we have some coffee first, please!" Angelika protested. The five of them had been at this and many 'Murbella matters' since dawn. She did not wait for an answer and with the smallest infraction of the protocol she clapped her hands. The door opened to usher in an acolyte bringing steaming mugs.
"Lay the tray on the purple fabric, dear," Murbella directed the acolyte. The girl walked over the costly garments in wobbly, uncertain steps, fearing to spill or topple over. She laid the tray on the floor where indicated by the Mother Superior while the Council meeting continued.
"Why do you care about how you dress in front of the Enemy with Many Faces' envoy, Sister?" said Angelika, grabbing a mug and exchanging quick looks with the acolyte her protégé. and taking a long sip. Again, forcing protocol just a bit, she waited for protests at how she had just addressed the Reverend Mother Superior, but the rebuttal never came.
Ashala raised an eyebrow. Only heavens, or possibly hell, would know what the Magistra thought of Murbella's recently developed preference for the former Matre.
Mother superior, unaware of the unspoken tension in the air, looked pensively at the satin. "The Enemy?" she replied, weighing the satin against a white-and-black cloth. The acolyte was already on her way back to the door and to non-existence. "Wait there, girl!" she commanded. The girl froze, turned around slowly. "I did not catch your name. I should know the name of my new assistant."
"Tairasu." The girl tried to smile comfortably, and failed.
"It's alright, girl, bringing coffee is indeed a menial task and it's quite normal to feel self-conscious in front of Reverend Mothers who read you like an open book." Murbella replied as the girl stiffened up like a twig. "Do you know what the Zensunni Masters say? Every menial task is an opportunity to focus on flow. The universe gives us infinite training opportunities. How will you become the next Mother Superior if you can't carry a tray?"
The girl's chest caved in a little. "Oh, my dear," Mother Superior sighed, "you are of the armadillo type. Don't curve up in a ball when poked. Do you know it? Look it up. And straighten up!" To Tairasu's horror, the Reverend Mother Superior grabbed her arm, then gently guided her into a more upright posture. Her cheeks were flushed. She stood quiet and in awe of the legendary queen of Chapterhouse, miserable in the knowledge that she did not know what to do. She felt dizzy. Had she ingested too much spice again? Her vision blurred for a moment. But that moment raced past as Murbella turned around to continue the conversation, leaving the new assistant to stumble toward the exit, unseen but feeling eyes on her shoulders all along, the trey so heavy in her hands.
"Not quite ready for the ordeal, this new aide," was Bellonda's swift judgment.
"The dress is not for the enemy, silly. It's for my departure." Murbella ignored her and replied instead to Angelika's comment. "We live in an age of impressions, especially among the Honored Matres and the younger acolytes. Besides, you can never leave and presume your seat will be waiting for you at your return. If I am to return."
"Your personality cult again," criticized Bellonda.
"Propaganda. Write it off to the cost of governing in these strange times." Murbella smiled, knowing the comeyes were recording. It is real power when you reveal the trick and your audience still wants to be fooled. "The truth about Truthsayers..."
"Wasn't the climate report on the agenda?" interrupted Bellonda, catching the opportunity to move them away from clothing once for all.
"Why a report when you can look outside of the window," interjected Ashala, quiet and restrained up to that moment.
"Quite so. Time to simplify, Bellonda. I heard it did not rain in the month I was out." Now Murbella was chasing after colorful foulards, with the seamstress following her trail across the floor.
"Indeed, Sisters," sighed Angelika, who came from a rainforest planet.
"Reverend Mother Superior," interjected Ashala, with a deliberate shrug, "as you plan to lead the way for the Sisterhood in the embassy on Gammu, and exposing yourself to unknown dangers, there is the question of leaving the Council able to carry out its functions."
"And taking our most valuable military mind with me. Ashala, you are an exceptional Proctor, but you are not ready to carry Odrade's legacy."
"So you don't intend to share? Will you risk losing your countless memories to the Sisterhood?" Mother Superiors sharing with her closest collaborators served both to preserve the leader's plan and the intention behind it, and to designate potential successors.
"Sister," Angelika interjected, addressing once again Murbella, "Ashala is asking out of a desire for the Bene Gesserit's preservation, with nothing but altruism in her mind." Her plain, harmless tone could only be interpreted as the opposite.
"Neither you are, Angelika." The former Matre remained still, self-control revealing to the others the need to control her reaction. Realizing this, she smiled.
"Would you leave the Bene Gesserit without the simulacra of Taraza and Odrade to guide us?" Ashala continued, standing up to chase after Murbella's erratic walk across the lilac and indigo garments scattered everywhere.
"Dar and Tar never saw this far, Magistra Ashala," Murbella commented, her eyes resting on a scarlet silken scarf.
"You are going to let Mother Superior's unbroken legacy disappear!" Ashala accused.
"I am making sure our Sisters here have a reason to wait for my return. More, to ensure my return... after meeting the enemy." Murbella replied. "A Proctors' vote is to take place a week from now. When I am back, they are free to decide whether to keep me as their Mother Superior or not." She walked slowly to the window. "You know, the truth about Truthsayers is,"
"Mother Superior, I protest!"
"Nonsense!" erupted Bellonda from the corner. "You still have me. I shared with Odrade. If Mother Superior would not share her own awareness, so be it. There is precedent for that."
Both Sisters were taken aback. Bellonda's dry and no-nonsense approach was useful in a Mentat, and could gain favor in an increasingly restless Sisterhood.
"Sister Murbella," Angelika began to plead.
Murbella's move came from nowhere. A blink later Angelika was gasping for air, Mother Superior's arm firmly pressing on her jugular, her body unable to move.
"H..." she tried to say, but chose to conserve air instead.
"...is that Truthsayers can't conspire." Murbella whispered. "They really are the ultimate truth telling device." She kept choking Angelika and speaking slowly. "You take three to cross examine a suspect, individually; and then you have each Truthsayer interrogate the other, independently. Unless all three are in a league against you, you will find the moles within your ranks, even among the Truthsayers." She stomped on the floor in one of the ways she could summon help, at which the door opened again, spilling out aide Tairasu. "Any communication from Teg?" Murbella asked.
"He relays his task is done, Mother Superior." The aide's eyes were in wild shock at the sight of Mother Superior casually holding her the head of her secret society in a lethal bind among spilled coffee mugs and scarves.
"Teg's message confirms the ongoing conspiracy against my life has been thwarted and all perpetrators have been detained." A moment of immobility followed, with Murbella's eyes catching no reaction from any of the Sisters in the room. Only Master Zoel moved: "Good news."
"Shame that this Council could not do the job properly during my absence." Murbella replied. "You may want to give Councilmember Miles Teg more leash next time."
Still holding Angelika in a cruel bind, Murbella continued. "A particularly nasty fringe among our Matres joined forces with a particularly radical Bene Gesserit and orchestrated the attack. Isn't it wonderful, how even they are learning to collaborate and work as a team?" Murbella relented the bind just enough so that Angelika could breathe again.
"And so in two days I leave. Will I still be Mother Superior when I am back? Answer me."
"Yes..." replied Angelika hoarsely. Murbella's finger scribbled a sign on Angelika's arm, too quick for the others to notice; then let go. The former Matre fell on the floor in a soft white silk, gasping for air. Tairasu caught herself holding her breath, and released it with an audible noise that made her even more self-conscious. Mother Superior had just made the response sign of the Black Swans on Angelika's skin! Bellonda stood quiet like a parent waiting for her kids to be through with a sibling fight. Ashala, breaking self-control, brought her hands to her throat in relief at the sight of the bind being released. Tairasu's eyes dashed around the room frantically. The others had not noticed. The Reverend Mothers were under a different type of stress: the realization that no Bene Gesserit could hope to rival the Mother Superior, and that she would not wait for another Matre to attack her either. This feat, Ashala knew, was a warning for all of them.
"Angelika," Murbella continued, not even panting.
"Yes?" Angelika's voice rasped, hands on the floor under long black hair, still recovering.
"Never dare to address Mother Superior as Sister."
"Yes... Mother Superior."
"Good. Remember, I know all your secrets." Murbella caressed Angelika's arm as a reminder, then turned to the seamstress. "Satin black, boots, and a white scarf. And you, Tairasu... come here."
"Mother Superior." The girls walked lightly over the dresses, and found the courage to look at the frightening woman right in her spice-blue eyes. What would she do to her, a Black Swan trainee, now that Angelika's secret had been discovered? Dizziness came to her in waves, and for a moment she saw a snowfall of shiny drops of light suspended in the air of the room. Oh no, Tairasu thought. Was she going to faint here? Her eyes lost focus while Murbella watched her intensely. Then Mother Superior caught her wrist; in that moment of dizziness the thin veil of reality broke and through the blur beyond Tairasu saw another Murbella, this one dusty and sweaty in a swirl of sand, one looking down at her with the same fierce determination; the dusty Mother Superior's lips parted and she spoke to her: "Climb!". And snap, it was all. Like awakening from a dream, Tairasu looked around, her sense of orientation completely lost, looking to locate the steps Mother Superior wanted her to step on.
Murbella, the one in the room, was supporting Tairasu against the misstep she had taken, one hand on Tairasu's wrist to steady the acolyte's balance, the other hand pointing to the mirror. "Careful there, or you will end up splayed on the floor. I will find you something appropriate to wear instead of that ugly student cloth. Seamstress Choli here is a Reverend Mother, can you believe it? She knows centuries of fashion and style."