Dawn - A story of Chapterhouse [longish]
Susan Hogarth
WARNING: CHAPTERHOUSE SPOILER
Frank wrote:
> However there is a lot of thing around the Dune univers which can be
> written about
Indeed.
> But they would still be a lot of fun to read or even to write. We in this
> newsgroup could create , read and comment such novels.
Well, it's not a novel, but you *did* inspire me to try my hand at a
short story (VERY short, mercifully:). I've included it here; it's a
vignette capturing the moment of the No-ship's liftoff from a unique
perspective.
What fun - I've never done a "fan-fic" before!
Special thanks to "SSM", who's dream inspired me... hope you like it.
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Dawn
Written by Susan Hogarth, copyright 1997
The girl Dawn woke up early that morning, as she did every morning. The
"clock
in her head" always woke her exactly fifteen minutes before the arrival
of the
Morning Proctor. Often she used this time as her teachers had suggested;
to
review the day's plans and perhaps even to run through a few of the
"finger
exercises" while lying comfortably, luxuriating in her gift of
completely free
time. But this morning her attention was caught by a bright speck of
matter
on the sill of the east window. It sparkled bluely in the predawn glow;
enticing her out of her narrow, stiff bed. She threw off the bedclothes
and
tiptoed carefully across the crowded dormitory. Her mates slept in
various
postures of uncaring repose; they were happy to forgo the morning
commune with
self to gain a few moments' extra sleep.
At the windowsill, she discovered the bit of blueness to be an
astonishingly
beautiful fly or perhaps a small bee. It had two large, transparent
black wings
and two smaller ones beneath. But its body was a wonderous deep blue
with hints
of underlying purple, and there was fine red-and-black band across its
back.
She had never seen any creature so exquisite, so bright. It was dead,
curled into
itself and stiff. She studied it, fascinated, for several minutes,
turning it
over and absorbing its various textures and colors, marveling at the way
its
carapace gave such lustre from so faint an illumination as the
still-sunless
morning light streaming through the no-ship's windows.
Hearing a sound, she looked around, startled, at the door. There stood
Waddi,
the Morning Proctor, in her black robe with the hood thrown back. Dawn
was
confused - she hadn't expected Waddi so soon. For a moment she thought
her
study of the fly had been too absorbing, and that she had misplaced
several
minutes, but an urgent yet silent wave of the hand from Waddi dispelled
that
notion. Something must be up, she thought. As she followed Waddi out of
the
dormitory and into the corridor, she wasn't sure whether she was
fortunate or
unlucky to be the only girl awake so early. She liked Waddi, who was a
considerate and thoughtful person, but she also feared her a little bit
- there
was always the mystery of the Spice about her; the transformation of the
young
woman into Reverend Mother and Proctor was still fresh enough (Dawn had
known
her as a tutor when Waddi was still a Postulant) to give some
discomfort. She put
down the fly, with one last glance at its deep sheen, and followed the
beckoning
proctor.
In the corridor, Waddi shocked her by whispering fiercely, "Dawn, the
no-ship
is about to lift - you must remain calm and help me to organize the
other
girls."
"Lift?" She managed to say before being cut short.
"Yes, Lift. You must not ask questions right now. We must wake the other
girls
and get them off the ship - and quickly. Time is short."
"Off the ship?" There were dozens of questions crowding her mind, but
this one
was all that escaped. The girls in the dormitory were part of a special
class of
pupils selected for the "special training" supervised by Sheeana. They
were,
they knew, to become "sheperds to worms", to learn the intricate and
difficult
Language (which was more song than language, and more dance than song)
which would control and guide the still-tiny but numerous revenents of
the Tyrant. Dawn
could imagine no reason for the No-ship to lift, and no reason for them
to
leave. Suddenly she gasped. "The whores!" It was more statement than
question.
They must be attacking the No-ship! They had discovered the Duncan!
Suddenly she realised Waddi was staring intently at her. She blushed,
tried to
regain her composure, to act like a Bene Gesserit woman. Through her
confusion
and Waddi's hurry, she thought she glimpsed a touch of a smile, that was
all.
"It is not an attack. There is no time to explain, but you girls must
leave the
ship before it lifts." Then, disregarding her own warning about time,
she continued, "Last night the proctors here," (she meant the No-ship,
obviously) "voted to leave Chapterhouse with Duncan and Sheeana. We are
taking the No-ship and Scattering; we refuse to be hybridized with the
Honored Matres. You young ones were not given a vote - therefore you
will stay. We had to wait until the last possible moment before leaving
to unload you. Now you must help me rouse the others and get them from
the ship before we lift."
Dawn was astounded, although through the pounding of her heart she had
enough
presence of mind to bristle at Waddi's use of the word "unloading" to
describe
the pupils. Were they merely cattle, then? Livestock to be pushed
through the
ship's port? But she had no luxury of time in which to think; within the
minute
she found herself, with Waddi, back in the dormitory, waking her fellows
with a
whispered "Hurry, we must leave At Once." The next five minutes were a
nightmare of speaking, of trying _not_ to answer questions (as if she
could!),
of getting the still-unawakened girls (the clocks within _their_ heads
still
allowed them five minutes more of sleep) up and out the door of the
dormitory,
each with a few books and her "small kit" containing a few personal
items. The
girls, once in the corridor, balked and demanded an explanation of
Waddi. None
was forthcoming, though, so they reluctantly followed her retreating
back as it
commanded them through the corridors of the ship.
Dawn walked at the rear, lost in thought. She alone of the girls
comprehended
(if only dimly) what was happening. She was thinking of her time on the
No-ship
(only eleven months, yet already it was Home to her) and of Chapterhouse
- a
bewildering place made even more disconcerting by the presence of "the
Whores"
(as she still called them to herself, in defiance of Mother Superior's
wishes.
They were at the port! Waddi, clearly pressed for time, was standing at
the
doorway, gesturing impatiently for the girls to go out. A few had
already left
the No-ship, and stood on the pavement of the landing flat, looking
lost. Caught
between their bewildered classmates and their now-frightening teacher,
the rest
of the girls began to file out. Dawn caught herself thinking "More like
Sheep
than Cattle." The thought must have crept onto her face, because Waddi
(now alone
with her in the ship) frowned at her in a puzzled way.
"You must go now, Dawn."
The sun leapt above the horizon, striking at the dry air of Chapterhouse
with its
iron rays. Dawn stood rooted, transfixed by the sight. She saw her
classmates
milling around the port, the winter-dead orchards, the gazebo they
called
"Mother Superior's Folly", and, on the horizon, the dust-reddened line
of the new
sun. The port suddenly closed. Startled, Dawn looked to her Morning
Proctor, who
looked back, startled out of her still-new Reverend-Motherhood, and
looking like
nothing so much as another lost pupil.
They turned together at the approach of Raishi, a Senior Proctor. Raishi
sent
them both, but Waddi especially, an interrogative glance. Waddi had
regained her
composure, was completely Reverned Mother, as she said simply,
"Dawn has chosen to travel with us, Tenna Raishi."
And the No-ship lifted from the flat.