"....I think of Trish - 'not from Marin City,' fashion-before-function proselytizer Trish, gentile fine and pretty with shortish, chestnut red hair, who would shiver her nards off in the Olympia, Washington dusk. You see, it's, 'fashion before function,' not, 'style before function,' as that's not how the paradigm functions. Yet it does, and in a corollary of a sort, anything functional is inherently stylish (such is my belief system and never isn't, though those who would disabuse me live close among us.)
"Above, I intimated the reality of paradigms, gave an example of one, and implied a case for the distinction of a paradigm from a rule or an aphorism.... As well, distinguish a paradigm from a metaphor - the former is better. If only what is better than appropriate were universally applicable...."
"From Lecterns and Pulpits," Sister Gretchen Duenna Crowfeather of the Old Earth Bene Gesserit; acolyte instructor, docent and chaperone, Pueblo City, Wallach IX
Sister Gretchen looked from Steward Lucas Rice to Captain Leah Thomas, then back again. "I realize that there are restrictions due to fuel scarcity. I assure you, I weigh under. Yet my meager life savings are in a wrap, here."
Rice noted in the Ixian scanner where she pointed. Captain Thomas was quick: "I make no guarantees, but this life savings you mention could prove a boon. Parting with some now could purchase you short-term perks, and longer term honors should we achieve planetfall. It seems crass, such economic considerations in transit aboard a Guild lifeboat...."
"All that matters are these girls' welfare, if course."
"Of course!" replied both the Steward and the Captain.
"Very well. The palladium and copper are yours. The gold, should you need it."
Rice pondered this. "Unlikely we'll need the latter."
"There's an Earth ounce of yttrium, as well."
"We'll set that by, as it might come in handy," intoned Thomas. "We'd be pleased if you kept it on your person."
"Such pleasure," muttered Gretchen, not without sympathetic bitterness and an air of Voice.
"Mademoiselle," the Steward Rice inquired, "may I procure for you?"
"Good! You may: a flute of prosecco for each of the survivors traveling with us, immediately!"
#DuneFanfic #FlashFiction #HerbertInspired
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