“Marta. Please come in.” Gwenneth gestured at the chairs in front of her desk. “I was just about to send for you.”
“Then, this is a fortuitous coincidence unless you believe in predestination.” Marta sat and folded her hands in her lap. “And since you don’t, there’s no point in discussing the matter. Shall I go first, or will you?”
“Go ahead.”
“Stearn has finally shown he can reach out. It was brief yet intense. He might well develop the sharpest third eye the Order has seen in generations.”
“Sharper than yours?”
Marta’s expression conveyed indecision.
“I don’t know. It took me a good ten years before I surpassed my teachers.”
Gwenneth scoffed. “Less than that, I think. But never mind.”
“He is, as one would expect, deeply fatigued by the experience. The oath and conditioning will come when he regains his strength. Next week, probably.”
“Then he’ll enjoy a few extra days rest. You’re headed for the Windy Isles on tomorrow morning’s Clipper.”
“A problem?”
“No. More like an opportunity. Mirjam and her team successfully erased antisocial behavior traits in three more lifetime prisoners, one of them the first woman to undergo the process. It seems as if she might have the talent. Amelia sensed a stirring not long after her last treatment.”
A thoughtful air crossed Marta’s face.
“Interesting. Perhaps I should spend time with the five men as well and see whether there is some latency. I’ve long thought there was merit in exploring whether those with undiagnosed talent are more susceptible to personality disorders. If there’s a correlation, I’d be curious why Stearn and I are reasonably well adjusted even though we experienced our share of troubles while this woman in the Windies committed horrific crimes.”
“Her name is Seled Hyson. You may take the time you need with Mirjam’s former patients. If necessary, Katarin or I can take over Stearn’s conditioning and administer the oath. I think this recent development is a greater priority. Besides, working under a different teacher right now might do him good.”
“Should my stay in the Windies exceed four or five days, then please go ahead.”
“Working with Stearn would make a pleasant change from dealing with abbey politics day in and day out.”
“Loxias?”
“He and his cohorts are strangely quiet these days, which makes me wonder what they’re cooking. No, it’s the small stuff that can sometimes pile up too fast. But you’re not here so I can burden you with my problems. Landry booked a seat on tomorrow’s Clipper and will take you to the spaceport in the morning. All that remains is rearranging your teaching schedule.”
“In that case.” Marta stood and bowed her head. “I’ll prepare for the trip.”
**
Marta visited the Windy Isles regularly, but her first breath of flower-scented, warm, salty air always made it seem like the first time. The sense of irony that such beautiful islands housed some of the ugliest souls and most dangerous, soulless creatures that humanity could produce never left her either. She made her way from the landing strip to the priory at a leisurely pace and basked in the rays of the late afternoon sun, watching them bounce off the lagoon’s softly rippling waters.
Perhaps she would take a dip in the morning. There weren’t many spots on Lyonesse safe enough for humans to enjoy an ocean swim without risking attack by native predators. This was one of them. The Phoenix Clipper took off behind her with a loud roar. She stopped and glanced up at its rapidly receding shape. The sleek, white spacecraft was the closest thing to a time machine she’d ever experienced. In one hour, City of Lannion would land where most people were only now waking up to a day that was already waning here.
As she entered the priory grounds, a smiling Mirjam appeared on the front stoop.
“Marta. Welcome back. Thank you for taking the time.”
“How could I resist? A successfully treated sociopath with a third eye hidden behind the mess her mind once was is a first in our history.”
“If Amelia is correct.” Mirjam ushered her in and headed for the guest quarters.
“You didn’t check?”
“We don’t know what we’re dealing with. Wiping entire engram sequences to cure personality disorders is so new I didn’t want to risk blundering in. Your touch is the lightest, while your skill at teasing out things most of us can’t even sense is unsurpassed. And since we’re on that subject, how is Stearn?”
“We made the first breakthrough yesterday.”
“Oh.” Mirjam laid her hand on Marta’s arm. “I apologize for pulling you away at this juncture.”
“No apologies necessary. Stearn needs rest after the experience. His really is a powerful mind, one which draws a lot of energy. Should I stay here longer, Gwenneth or Katarin will take him through the next steps.”
“Fine teachers, both, even if our revered abbess hasn’t worked with students in a while. Here we are.” Mirjam let Marta enter the small, sparsely furnished room ahead of her and watched as she unpacked her travel bag.
“There, done.” Marta, wearing an expectant air on her face, smiled at Mirjam. “When do I meet this Seled Hyson?”
“Tomorrow. She left the maximum security enclosure this morning, along with the two men we treated. They’re settling in under Friar Rikkard’s guidance. They’ll eat alone before the rest of us. We’d rather not overwhelm them on their first day.”
“What about the ones you treated last year?”
“They passed their examinations and took vows. We use them as general labor around the priory. Why do you ask?”
“I’d like to test all six, not just Seled. They may have a glimmer of talent hidden away somewhere.”
Mirjam nodded. “The theory that an undiagnosed and therefore undisciplined strong sixth sense contributes to personality disorders. I’ll make the arrangements. But let’s leave that until the morning, shall we?”
“This is your priory. Tomorrow will be fine. Just point them out during the evening meal.”
“Certainly.”
Soft, but determined footsteps in the corridor made both glance at the open door. Seconds later, Amelia’s cheerful face appeared.
“Sister Marta! Welcome.”
“Thank you, my dear. How are your latest patients?”
“Much more patient than before their treatment. The difference is nothing short of astounding.”
“Amelia was their counselor, so she saw the change up close and personal.”
“And if Seled does indeed have the talent, I’d like to be her teacher, at least for the first level of training.”
Mirjam cocked a sardonic eyebrow at the younger woman. “Are you asking me or Marta?”
“Both of you.”
“Good answer.” Mirjam gave Marta a wink. “I don’t mind if our Order’s most talented teacher doesn’t.”
“So long as you supervise. Amelia was a star student of mine, but that wasn’t so long ago. Still, the experience she’ll gain won’t be wasted.”
“Thank you. I think Seled might learn more easily under my tutelage. Though it wasn’t plain before, she developed a certain trust in me.”
“How so?” Marta asked.
“When we stripped away the chaos filling Seled’s mind by selectively wiping the engrams that drove her disorder, deeply suppressed parts of her personality rose to the surface.”
“Including the hint she might have a quiescent third eye.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t sense the same thing from the two men we treated alongside Seled.”
Amelia shook her head.
“No, Sister.” She hesitated. “Do you think there might be a glimmer?”
“I won’t know until I verify. That is why Gwenneth sent me. But as Mirjam said, we will let matters rest until t
omorrow.”
“Understood.” Amelia glanced at the prioress. “With your permission?”
“Carry on.”
Once Amelia’s footsteps faded away, Marta asked, “How is my star pupil doing?”
“Amelia is a credit to your teaching. She is a formidable counselor, helping us with the most irredeemable prisoners, and she took part in the treatment without hesitation. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up taking your place when you retire to a life of contemplation.”
“Then she has a long wait ahead of her. I’m still as spry as I was the day my training began.”
“No doubt. We should thank the Almighty that our talent comes with a few side benefits, like delayed aging.”
**
Once the sun vanished behind a watery horizon, Mirjam led Marta into the refectory, where she went around and greeted the Priory’s Brethren one-by-one. Most of them, save for the exiles, now friars of the Order, were old acquaintances, if not former students. When Mirjam introduced her to Erasmus, Marnix, and Shakib, she briefly looked into each man’s eyes and gently reached out with her mind. They were unfailingly polite, though guarded, as if they’d heard about Marta’s prowess as the Order’s foremost teacher.
Later, Marta and Mirjam shared a pot of tea in front of the latter’s open office windows so they could admire the moonlit lagoon on one of the rare nights when all three of Lyonesse’s natural satellites, including Ys, were visible over the Windies. The triple shadows they cast no longer seemed as strange to Marta’s eyes as they did during her early years on Lyonesse, but she still found the sight intriguing.
“What did you think of our new friars?”
Marta took a sip of tea and replied, eyes still on the silver ripples, “I’m not sure. I briefly reached out while you introduced us. Their minds seemed hollow, as if part of their personality has vanished, which I suppose makes sense since you wiped the engrams that drove their disorder and didn’t replace it with anything else.”
“We hoped their training would fill part of the emptiness, but so far, that hasn’t happened.”
“The mind of the one who calls himself Erasmus is stronger than those of his companions and didn’t feel quite as bare.”
Mirjam nodded. “He was a challenge. His disorder dwarfed those of every other prisoner in the Supermax section. The man he used to be was utterly malevolent.”
“Then it’s remarkable how peaceful he seems. You can’t tell he once harbored a heinous soul.” Marta turned and smiled at her colleague. “I confess I’ve been skeptical about your treatment, but no more.”
“Really? Even though it was you who suggested we study whether we can use the process by which sisters are conditioned against misusing their talent to correct aberrant behavior?”
“I never thought it would be possible to cure lifelong sociopaths. Imagine if we identified those with behavior problems before they caused harm and treated them so they could enjoy a normal life. Yes, I know we can’t go around telling parents their children will become serial killers or worse, because it would raise the question of how we know they faced such a fate.”
“It is unfortunate. Imagine how many innocent lives we would save.” Mirjam took another sip of tea. “You know we don’t need the patient’s consent for a successful treatment. We can enter a mind and wipe the relevant engrams at will.”
“Really?” Marta’s eyebrows arched up in surprise. “That raises so many ethical questions.”
“Which is why we don’t discuss it. Besides, if we cured unwilling prisoners, the wardens would soon figure out we’re doing more than just counseling. Mind you, getting as many out of Supermax as possible and giving them useful lives, even though none will ever leave the Windies, remains a worthwhile endeavor.”
— 34 —
––––––––
“How are you this morning, Stearn?” Loxias’ voice boomed across the empty refectory, now that most of the Brethren were off to their various tasks. Being exempt from work for the day meant Roget could linger after breakfast, and he didn’t mind the solitude. His room in the dormitory seemed too confining, for reasons he didn’t understand.
He bowed his head respectfully.
“I’ve regained my energy, though my mind keeps worrying at the strange dreams I experienced.”
Loxias poured himself a cup of tea and took a seat across from the younger man.
“I wouldn’t know about those dreams since I’m just a normal friar with little talent other than the ability to read people and influence them. But you made an extraordinary breakthrough, one which might end the sisters’ exclusive rule over our Order. If only we could figure out what makes you tick, we might find a way of creating more friars with your abilities.”
“I’ve only just begun. My capabilities might not be much greater than yours.”
Loxias waved the objection away. “I’ve been watching you from day one, my friend. You’re already more aware than most of my friars. Since you’re at loose ends while Marta is gone, how about shadowing me for a few days? You would learn more about administering the Order and see how we interact with Lyonesse society these days. It wouldn’t do any harm if you met some folks who’ll be important for us in the coming years.”
Roget shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I still don’t know what I’ll be doing once my time with Marta is over. But I don’t like people enough to become a teacher, counselor, or healer, I didn’t enjoy farming back home, and the abbey has little call for a starship engineer. No offense, but working on the environmental systems day in and day out isn’t part of my long-term plans.”
“I’m sure you’ll become proficient at anything you want. But here’s the thing. A man of your potential has a duty to seek the highest leadership positions so he can challenge the sisters when they insist on looking inward while our future demands we look outward. They disregard what we ordinary friars say, but they won’t dare ignore one who matches them talent for talent. Especially if that man finds support among the Brethren and presents himself as our first abbot.” Loxias drained his cup. “Ever heard of a pre-diaspora sage by the name Hilaire Belloc?”
“No.”
“He famously said, time after time, mankind is driven against the rocks of the horrid reality of a fallen creation. And time after time, mankind must learn the hard lessons of history—the lessons that for some dangerous and awful reason we can’t seem to keep in our collective memory. I consider it my mission to make sure the Order doesn’t lose its collective memory of humanity’s latest fall, which will happen if we keep looking inward and exclude everything else.” Loxias stood. “Come. It’s time for the morning rounds.”
**
Seled Hyson seemed older and more worn out by life than Marta expected. She was watching the three new postulants from the shadows of an upper-story window as Friar Rikkard led them through a series of exercises designed to rebuild bodies wasted by decades behind bars. Marta didn’t reach out and touch their minds. But she saw much in their postures, their facial expressions, and their eyes. Especially the eyes.
Whoever called them windows to the soul long ago didn’t know the half of it. None of the three possessed one worth mentioning. Just like Erasmus and his companions. Did the treatment erase it? Or did those with personality disorders lack a soul in the first place? Marta had peered into the eyes of irredeemable psychopaths and found an emptiness that still haunted her worst dreams. Though it was a peace of sorts, without the chaos of disordered minds like the ones Mirjam and her counselors were treating.
The training session ended with the customary exchange of bows, then Rikkard led them back to the dormitory while Marta headed for the meditation room she’d requisitioned at the back of the priory’s main building. There, she took one of the two chairs and composed herself while waiting for Hyson. She didn’t nurture preconceived notions about the upcoming encounter and therefore let her thoughts wander aimlessly rather t
han dwell on what would happen shortly.
When her ears noticed the sound of two humans entering the corridor, one with a heavier tread than the other, Marta’s eyes opened, and she pushed away the last tendrils of her light trance. Friar Rikkard’s familiar shape filled the open doorway. He dipped his head respectfully.
“Sister, I bring you the postulant named Seled.”
“Thank you. She may enter.”
Rikkard stepped aside and waved Hyson in, pointing at the empty chair facing Marta.
“Please sit, Seled.”
Both women studied each other in silence as Hyson obeyed Rikkard.
“Sister Marta is one of the Order’s most revered teachers,” he continued. “Second only to Abbess Gwenneth.”
“Yes, Friar.”
Marta glanced at Rikkard, her eyes silently telling him he could safely leave Hyson with her. He inclined his head again and obeyed without uttering another word. When he closed the door behind him, she gave the exile her full attention.
“What do you remember of the person who inhabited your mind before the treatment?”
Hyson’s shoulders twitched in an involuntary shrug.
“Most of my past, I suppose. But there are many gaps which I’m told was where the sisters removed the memories of my crimes. They said endless rage once filled me, but I cannot remember how or why.”
“And how are you now?”
Hyson bit her lower lip as she thought. “I’m not sure. Empty? I can recall having many emotions as a child, but they seem foreign.”
“Do you recall emotions you experienced as an adult?”
“No. The sisters took my memories of them as well. I suppose my rage permeated everything once I grew up.”
As they spoke, Marta gently reached out and touched Hyson’s mind. She found an aching emptiness where she expected a riot of emotion in healthy humans. Hyson didn’t seem as barren as the psychopaths Marta studied, but it was close. She certainly wasn’t chaotic like Stearn before he learned to discipline his thoughts. That would make her training much easier.
Imperial Night (Ashes of Empire, #3) Page 23