As Marta ventured deeper into Hyson’s mind, she found weak feelings, as if newly born, and an undefined aura of loss. Perhaps an unconscious part of her mourned the old Seled even though she’d been a tortured soul who spent half her life incarcerated where she couldn’t harm another. Given enough time, the new Seled would surely fill at least part of the emptiness within her as she learned to feel again. Hopefully, Mirjam was right, and life in a controlled, peaceful, and loving environment would keep Seled’s old rage at bay for good.
“Did you expect this emptiness when you signed up for the experimental treatment?”
Another shrug. “I didn’t know what to expect.”
“Any regrets?”
A tiny, tentative smile appeared for the first time.
“How could I regret losing a part of me I cannot remember? The treatment gave me a chance at a new life, even if I never leave the Windies, and for that, I will be eternally grateful.”
Marta touched the faint stirrings within Seled to see if any were cause for alarm, but found nothing more than curiosity, a tiny spark of amusement and a strange awe at her radically changed circumstances. She also found a sixth sense, hidden away but stirring, looking for parts of a mind that no longer existed and trying to adjust. Amelia was right. Seled had the talent, but how strong was she?
Then Marta saw a third eye, one with movement behind the mental eyelid. She couldn’t tell how awake it was, or if that eye would even open, let alone how it might work in someone so devoid of underlying human feelings. But helping Seled discover her talent intrigued Marta. She differed vastly from other female postulants.
Unfortunately, remaining in the Windies for long wasn’t an option. Perhaps Marta could stay a few weeks, just to see if that eye might open, then let Amelia take care of Seled’s further development.
“What do you think about becoming a sister in this priory?”
She shrugged. “I don’t believe in the concept of a deity. Or at least I think I don’t.”
“It doesn’t matter. The Order of the Void primarily exists to serve others. Belief in the Almighty is not compulsory, though everyone eventually reaches a point where they realize the existence of a higher power is necessary, otherwise the universe makes no sense. We would teach you several disciplines, physical and mental, beyond what we teach friars like your two companions from this round of treatment and the three treated previously. It won’t help escape from the Windies, but it will give you a purpose in life like no other. You might even end up counseling prisoners and exiles like Amelia and her colleagues do.”
A frown of incredulity creased Seled’s forehead. “What a fascinating idea.”
“I cannot stay here for long, but I would start your training, then let Amelia take over.”
“When would I start?”
“Once Sister Mirjam approves. Though I am one of the Order’s most senior teachers, she leads the Windy Isles Priory and has final say on what happens in her house.”
“Understood.”
Marta produced her personal communicator and held it to her lips. “Rikkard.”
A few seconds passed, then, “Yes, Sister.”
“I’m done with Seled for the moment.”
“On my way. Rikkard, out.”
The communicator vanished again.
“I’m sure you’re full of questions, but they must wait. I can only answer them after you begin your transformation.”
**
“And?” Mirjam looked up at Marta expectantly as the latter swept into her office.
“It’s there, all right. A solid sixth sense and third eye, shut, but stirring. We can attempt to train her as a sister.”
“I see.” The prioress sat back with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Ever since Amelia raised the possibility, I’ve been wondering whether we should do it just because we can. Seled is the first woman to undergo treatment, and we still know so little about the long-term effects.”
Marta took one of the empty chairs.
“You mean we know nothing about the long-term effects. What if an undiagnosed talent is a cause of personality disorders? Wouldn’t Seled be at risk of backsliding if we do nothing?”
“I suppose.” Mirjam frowned as she sorted through her thoughts.
“Then, there’s the matter of finding out how the talent manifests in a mind with only the barest of newborn emotions.”
A snort escaped Mirjam’s solemn countenance.
“Aha. I see. You want to play sorceresses’ apprentice.”
“I’ve never worked with someone like her. We could learn a lot about what drives us sisters by observing the closest thing to a blank slate.”
“May I assume you’re not going back to Lannion on tomorrow’s Clipper?”
“If you’ll let me be Seled’s first teacher for a few weeks, then no. But the decision remains yours. I will respect your wishes, notwithstanding my curiosity. Once I’m sure she responds well to training, I will let Amelia take care of her further development and rejoin the abbey.”
Mirjam looked away for a few seconds, then back at Marta.
“You have my blessing.”
“Thank you. I’ll examine the other former prisoners today and begin with Seled tomorrow.”
— 35 —
––––––––
“Good morning, my friend. I hear Marta is staying in the Windies for a while.” Roget looked up from his mug of tea as Loxias dropped into a chair across from him. He’d noticed the chief administrator make a beeline for his table, even though the refectory was full of sisters and friars enjoying their breakfast before another day of work.
“Loxias. And a good morning to you as well. Yes, she’s assigned herself a new student from among the prisoners treated by Sister Amelia.”
“Any idea how long?”
Roget shook his head. “No. She said a few days, but knowing her, it could easily become a few weeks.”
“What of your training?”
“Katarin will take over when she clears her current commitments. In a few days, maybe.”
A pleased smile split Loxias’ bearded face.
“Which gives you more time to learn how things work on this world. You’ll attend the Lyonesse Chamber of Commerce meeting with me this afternoon and meet some of the republic’s biggest players, men and women with influence who can help us advance the Order’s interests.”
“It would be an honor.”
“While we’re there, you can study a few who I’ll point out and tell me afterward what you think. Many of them are devious characters in one way or another, people with hidden agendas of their own. However, we Brethren are the ultimate students of human nature and can see behind most masks. Especially friars with your skills.”
“Which aren’t fully developed yet.” Roget decided against mentioning he’d not taken the oath and received the conditioning yet, although his third eye could open, albeit briefly. A few things remained between student and teacher.
Loxias made a dismissive hand gesture.
“Think of it as on-the-job training during Marta’s absence. The Brethren have a higher calling than merely help humans who suffer from various ailments. We also guide those in power for the greater good of society.”
“The history of what happened in the Coalsack Sector before the empire’s collapse proves that sort of counseling can be fraught with mortal risk.”
“An anomaly that didn’t crop up elsewhere. Pendrick Zahar suffered from a longstanding hatred of the Order for personal rather than political reasons. Or so Marta stated for our historical records. You see, he could tell when a sister brushed his mind, and the very notion revolted him. Imagine if Zahar had become a friar instead of a naval officer. The Coalsack Sector’s history would be quite different, at least where the Order is concerned.”
“I see. And how does one tell if a mind can register our touch a
nd react badly to it?”
“One can’t. That’s why the sisters are conditioned against entering another’s mind, absent medical or psychological needs. Even then, they proceed gingerly, ready to withdraw at the slightest hint of awareness.” Loxias stood. “Meet me in front of the administration building at thirteen-hundred hours. Wear your best garments.”
“Will do.”
Roget watched Loxias wend his way across the refectory before vanishing through the main door. As he finished his tea, he found himself anticipating the Chamber of Commerce meeting with unexpected interest. It would offer a welcome antidote to Marta’s endless training sessions and put him back in touch with the real world. Loxias was onto something when he accused the sisters of looking inward, even though this new and perilous era demanded the Order look outward as well. The future belongs to those who show up instead of meditating endlessly on the Almighty’s various permutations in the Infinite Void.
**
A few minutes before the appointed time, Roget, wearing an immaculate, black friar’s habit, crossed the quadrangle to where a ground car, doors open, waited silently. No sooner did he reach it that Loxias walked out the administration building’s main entrance with his usual energetic stride. He was also clad in an immaculate friar’s habit but wore a small, shiny Void Orb on a simple metal chain around his neck.
Loxias gave Roget a comradely thump on the shoulder.
“Shall we head into Lannion and promote the Order’s interests with our republic’s captains of industry?”
He didn’t wait for an answer but climbed into the car. After a moment of hesitation, Roget took the front passenger seat.
“Stick with me. I’ll do the introductions,” Loxias said once they were beyond the abbey’s walls, “and when we take our chairs, you just sit along the wall near my table. Listen and don’t speak unless someone asks you a question. Now, remember these people, because I want you to watch them closely during my introductions and the meeting.” He rattled off six names, including Hecht and Downes, then said, “They’re sharp, so don’t be obvious about studying them.”
“May I ask why these particular individuals interest you?”
“Hecht is CEO of Lyonesse’s largest industrial conglomerate, Downes heads that conglomerate’s board of directors and the others because they run the second to the sixth-largest businesses in the republic. Collectively, those six enterprises and their subsidiaries own almost forty percent of the planet’s economic assets. When one of their senior people speaks, the government listens, even Jonas Morane. They’re our way into the corridors of power, my friend. As you rise through the Order’s ranks, you’ll spend more time with them, meaning it’s important you learn what you can about their characters.”
“You want me to peer into their souls and see what’s there. If they have souls, that is.”
A bark of laughter filled the car’s passenger compartment.
“If I didn’t know you were Marta’s student, that statement would set me straight. I don’t share her mysticism, but there’s no denying her trainees are among the most powerful minds of their generation.”
“I don’t share her mysticism either, but after spending time on the Windy Isles, I can confirm what Marta calls a soul is real. We can debate whether it’s a soul in the religious sense or not, but I’ve met prisoners who are utterly empty inside and others who are nothing but chaos. Are the empty ones devoid of a soul? And are the chaotic ones possessed? Interesting questions, don’t you think?”
Loxias shrugged, as if unconvinced but willing to go along.
“Perhaps. It’s no worse an interpretation than any other the Order has contemplated over the centuries. In any case, peer into the souls of our Chamber of Commerce grandees and tell me what you find. I already enjoy good relations with Gerson Hecht, though Downes doesn’t like me much, and I can’t figure out why. The others are friendly enough, but a bit standoffish. The one thing you’ll notice is neither Hecht nor Downes like Morane and his cronies, such as DeCarde. Both harbor a deep-seated grudge against him for events that happened long ago. They’re outwardly civil toward Morane and Gwenneth when she makes an appearance, but anyone trained the way we are can’t fail but see it. Not that the president attends something as prosaic as Chamber of Commerce meetings, though most of the time, he sends one of the cabinet secretaries.”
The car entered Lannion’s northern outskirts, and they soon found themselves driving along the Haven River toward downtown and the stone, two-story Chamber of Commerce Building close to Government House. As Roget noted when he looked the Chamber up in the abbey’s database, its headquarters was one of the oldest structures on the planet and housed the colonial administration during Lyonesse’s early years as a distant outpost, one which the imperial government mostly ignored.
They soon turned off the capital’s main avenue and entered a courtyard already filling up with various vehicles, both aerial and ground. A large sign over the building’s front door grandly announced its only tenant. Loxias parked them neatly beside a luxury vehicle bearing the Hecht Industries logo. He and Roget climbed out of their car and headed for the entrance where a thin, dark-haired man in his early thirties wearing a business suit greeted them with a polite nod.
“Friar Loxias. Welcome. And who is your companion?”
“This is Friar Stearn, one of my most trusted aides, Mister Pitt.”
“Welcome, Friar Stearn.”
“Thank you.”
“The members are assembling in the ballroom where refreshments await. Enjoy the meeting.”
Loxias bestowed an avuncular smile on Pitt. “Your courtesy honors you, as always.”
Roget could have sworn he sensed a mental eye roll from the man. “You’re too kind, Friar.”
As they walked down a broad, carpeted corridor whose walls were paneled with honey-colored wood, a growing murmur of conversation reached their ears.
“Sounds like a full house,” Loxias remarked with an air of satisfaction.
Roget gave him an amused sideways glance.
“You enjoy this sort of thing, don’t you? Hobnobbing with the republic’s upper crust.”
“It makes a refreshing change from the solemnity and single-mindedness of our Brethren, especially the sisters. Ah. Here we are.” Loxias pointed at an open double door on the left as the buzz of voices reached a crescendo.
Upon entering, Loxias, a pleasant smile plastered on his face, headed directly for a middle-aged man in a severely cut business suit while nodding at people as they passed them. He stood near a long table covered with cups, jugs, fruit bowls, and pastries, talking to a tall, squarely built woman whose short blond hair was liberally sprinkled with silver strands.
“That’s Ari Hodson with Defense Secretary DeCarde,” he murmured in an aside to Roget. “Ari is the Chamber’s president. I guess DeCarde is this meeting’s sacrificial cabinet member.”
When they came within earshot, Hodson broke off his conversation and turned to Loxias. “Friar! How nice to see you again.”
“Ari, always a pleasure.” Loxias bowed his head in greeting. “May I present Friar Stearn, my most trusted aide, and someone destined for glorious things in the Order?”
Roget imitated Loxias’ bow.
“You know Defense Secretary DeCarde.” Hodson gestured at the woman beside him.
“Of course. How are you, Madame Secretary?”
“Doing tolerably well, Friar.” DeCarde glanced at Stearn. “Aren’t you the one Dawn Seeker picked up on Yotai?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Stearn is extremely talented, as you’ll no doubt see over the coming years, Madame Secretary. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
Another bow and Loxias led Roget around the room, introducing him to each Chamber of Commerce member in attendance before both took a cup of tea and a small pastry.
“You might have noticed DeCarde isn’t a fan of
the Order, something she shares with other members of Morane’s cabinet. Hopefully, his successor’s appointees will be friendlier.”
Stearn thought it might be more a case of DeCarde not liking Loxias personally rather than the Order itself, but he knew better than pointing that out. Instead, since this was his first time among non-Brethren other than the Windy Isles exiles since arriving on Lyonesse, he wondered how ordinary human minds would seem to his partially trained senses.
He cautiously lowered his mental shields, expecting something akin to Supermax’s cacophony, though perhaps not nearly as pronounced, but what he picked up was only the mental counterpart of the quiet conversations around him. Roget looked around the room to match what he sensed with individuals but in vain.
A bell tinkled, and most voices trailed off. Once he had everyone’s attention, Hodson said, in a surprisingly strong basso, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please move to the banquet hall next door so we can start the meeting.”
Roget followed Loxias, but once in the banquet hall, he peeled off to one side where chairs lined the wall while his superior joined Gerson Hecht, Severin Downes, and a few others at one of the many cloth-covered round tables. The room filled quickly as Hodson stood behind a rostrum bearing the Chamber’s logo, a green double-headed Vanger’s Condor clutching a banner with the words ‘The Spirit of Enterprise’ written on it.
While Hodson waited for everyone to settle down and face him, Roget scanned the tables looking for those Loxias named on their way here. Once he fixed their position in his mind, he turned his eyes on the rostrum, like everyone else present.
“Ladies and gentlemen, today is the last Lyonesse Chamber of Commerce meeting before this year’s general elections. With the increasing peril posed by plague ships and the ensuing demands placed on us to support the Navy’s expansion, our interest in who will form the next senate and elect President Morane’s successor is greater than ever. Simply put, we must make sure our views are well represented. I propose we debate senatorial endorsements after dealing with regular business.”
Imperial Night (Ashes of Empire, #3) Page 24