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.She appeared to be almost a part of the hanging, a figureprojected forward from the stylized dunes and their elaborately detailedcoursing worms.Taraza recalled how Sheeana's brown hair had been thrownoutward by the whirling movements of the dance, swinging in a fuzzy arc.Sidelighting accented the reddish glints in her hair.Her eyes had been closedbut it was not a face in repose.Excitement betrayed itself in the passionateset of her wide mouth, the flaring of her nostrils, the forward thrust of herchin.Her motions had conveyed an inner sophistication that belied her youth.The dance is her language, Taraza thought.Odrade is correct.Seeing it, wewill learn it.Waff had something of a withdrawn look this morning.It was difficult todetermine if his eyes were looking outward or inward.With Waff was Tulushan, a darkly handsome Rakian, the priesthood's chosenrepresentative at today's "holy event." Taraza, meeting him at thedemonstration dance, had found it extraordinary how Tulushan never needed to say"but," and yet the word was always there in everything he uttered.A perfectbureaucrat.He rightly expected to go far but those expectations would soonencounter their ultimate surprise.She felt no pity for him at this knowledge.Tulushan was a soft-faced youth of too few standards for such a position oftrust.There was more to him than met the eye, of course.And less.Waff moved to one side in the garden, leaving Odrade and Sheeana with Tulushan.The young priest was expendable, naturally.That explained much about why hehad been chosen for this venture.It told her that she had achieved the properlevel of potential violence.Taraza did not think, though, that any of thepriestly factions would dare harm Sheeana. We will stay close to Sheeana.They had spent a busy week since the demonstration of the whores' sexualaccomplishments.A very disturbing week, when it came to that.Odrade had beenkept busy with Sheeana.Taraza would have preferred Lucilla for thiseducational chore but you made do with what was available and Odrade obviouslywas the best available on Rakis for such teaching.Taraza looked back toward the desert.They were waiting for the 'thopters fromKeen with their cargoes of Very Important Observers.The VIOs were not yet latebut crowding it as such people always did.Sheeana seemed to be taking the sexual education well, although Taraza'sestimation of the Sisterhood's available teaching males on Rakis was not high.Her first night here, Taraza had called in one of the servant males.Afterward,she had judged it too much trouble for the little joy and forgetfulness itprovided.Besides, what was there to forget? To forget was to allow aweakness.Never forget!That's what the whores did, though.They traded in forgetfulness.And they hadnot the least awareness of the Tyrant's continuing viselike hold on humandestiny nor of the need to break that hold.Taraza had listened secretly to the previous day's session between Sheeana andOdrade.What was I listening for?Young girl and teacher had been out here in the roof garden, facing each otheron two benches, a portable Ixian damper hiding their words from anyone who didnot have the coded translator.The suspensor-buoyed damper hovered over the twolike a strange umbrella, a black disc projecting distortions that hid theprecise movements of lips and the sounds of voices.To Taraza, standing within the long meeting room, the tiny translator in herleft ear, the lesson had occurred like an equally distorted memory.When I was taught these things, we had not seen what the whores of theScattering could do."Why do we say it's the complexity of sex?" Sheeana asked."The man you sentlast night kept saying that.""Many believe they understand it, Sheeana.Perhaps no one has ever understoodit, because such words require more of the mind than they do of the flesh.""Why must I not use any of the things we saw the Face Dancers do?""Sheeana, complexity hides within complexity.Great deeds and foul ones havebeen done at the goading of sexual forces
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