“Alas.”
“How is your patient?”
“She’s doing as well as can be hoped. I should be able to come home by Monday. Will you work with Stearn in the meantime?”
Gwenneth shook her head. “No. I’d rather not interpose myself for a few days when what he really needs is continuity. Besides, you’re a better teacher than I am.”
“And you’re a better leader than I, but I’ll take the compliment. Don’t worry too much about Stearn. You should remember how keen we were to use our talent as young sisters when it blossomed. He’s no different. Keep him in the abbey, and it’ll be fine. A week from now, he’ll be bound by the same inhibitions against mind-meddling as the rest of us.”
**
Stearn didn’t quite know what he should think of his brief conversation with Gwenneth. Did she suspect something, and if so, how? Was there more to this sixth sense and the third eye than Marta let on? Were the sisters truly mind readers, and did the abbess sift through his guilty thoughts?
That Gwenneth influenced Lyonesse’s leaders as a group into supporting Jonas Morane’s plan decades earlier seemed both mildly terrifying and strangely exhilarating. If only he’d possessed that ability during his time in Antelope.
He could have kept Captain Barnett and his favorites in check, thereby avoiding the horrors they’d inflicted and endured. He might even have returned home instead of ending up a broken man on a Yotai spaceport landing strip, staring imminent death in the face. Not that permanent exile on Lyonesse as a friar of the Void was an awful fate, although he knew he could never become a committed monastic, never mind a believer. And once his training ended, then what?
He looked up from his mug of tea when he spotted someone coming toward his table in a refectory still mostly deserted since supper was over an hour away. Loxias. He dropped into a chair across from Stearn.
“What did Gwenneth want?”
“She asked me about the Chamber of Commerce meeting and what I thought of the principal participants, like DeCarde and Hecht. Then she forbade me from leaving the abbey until further notice because of my arrested training regimen.”
Loxias scratched his beard. “I see. Does she believe you overstepped the bounds Marta set?”
“Probably, though she didn’t mention it.”
“Any idea how long until your confinement ends?”
“No. Why do you ask? Is there an event I should attend in the next few weeks?”
The older man nodded. “Several, so we can help our favored senatorial candidates shine in front of the electors.”
“Then you’ll do so without me. I can’t disobey the abbess.”
“Of course not. Just get through your next phase of training as quickly as possible and remember the sisters with a powerful talent, like Gwenneth and Katarin, don’t follow the Rule when it suits their goals.”
Loxias rose and walked away without another word, leaving Stearn with an unexpected surge of irritation as he wondered whether the chief administrator saw him only as a means to an end and not as a valued colleague. He drained his mug and left the refectory as well but didn’t head for his assigned workstation in the mechanical building where a small fusion reactor generated the abbey’s electricity, and a stationary environmental system took care of water purification and sewage.
Instead, Stearn walked in the other direction, toward the farm complex that fed the Brethren and served as the Lyonesse University’s on-the-job training facility for students in veterinary medicine, agriculture, and animal husbandry-related disciplines. Between them, Gwenneth and Loxias had annoyed him enough that he wanted another unconstrained chance at opening his third eye on a civilian before Katarin meddled with his mind.
Stearn found just the right candidate walking one of the colony’s precious horses around the main paddock, a man in his early twenties with a fresh, open face tanned by the sun. He leaned on a wooden fence railing after giving the student a friendly wave of the hand and watched for a minute or two. The roan mare, visibly gravid, seemed placid as she trotted around in a circle, getting her daily dose of exercise. She was part of another project like the Knowledge Vault — preserving and breeding animals whose distant ancestors left Earth along with human colonists during the first faster-than-light diaspora fifteen hundred years earlier.
He shifted his eyes from the mare to her handler and briefly wondered how sisters directly affected another’s thoughts. Then he concentrated on his third eye, willing it to open so he could study the student’s inner self. Proving that practice makes perfect, the effort required seemed less than during the Chamber of Commerce meeting. He reached out and brushed against the student’s mind, sensing what could only be contentment at exercising the mare under a late afternoon sky. Compared to those Stearn studied earlier in the day, this one appeared more straightforward, without sharp delineations and few strong emotions.
The young man’s inner peace increased Stearn’s irritation, and he pictured his fingers flicking at it. To his complete and utter astonishment, the happiness vanished, replaced by confusion and even a bit of anger. He immediately withdrew and cut contact.
Halfway around the world, Marta’s eyes snapped open for the second time. The feeling of unease she’d experienced earlier was back and stronger than ever. Since the first hint of dawn was coloring the eastern sky, she climbed out of bed and began her morning yoga routine, wondering what Stearn was doing now and whether she should call Gwenneth again.
**
Stearn woke with a start in the middle of the night, bedclothes askew, skin soaked with sweat and heart beating a disjointed tattoo. Fear and loathing oozed through every part of his being while ghastly images haunted him like an out-of-control cinematic production. He’d not experienced a nightmare since boarding Dawn Hunter and couldn’t remember ever having one of this intensity. Stearn entered a meditative state so he could regain control over mind and body and realized his third eye had opened unbidden. He understood almost at once it was the source of his distress.
The sisters taught him dreams, including nightmares, were the mind’s way of processing emotions and consolidating memories. Perhaps those with open third eyes felt dreams more strongly than ordinary people who by and large possessed only a smidgen of the sixth sense that was so developed in the Brethren. But why did his eye open while he slept? Was repeatedly invading another’s mind unbidden the cause? Or was there a more sinister reason? His physical reaction to the nightmare was so intense, Stearn could well believe it might have caused cardiac arrest in a weaker man. He reached for the water glass by his bed and found it knocked over, contents spreading on the stone floor.
The dormitory outside his room remained silent, a good indication his struggles were soundless. Although he worried about what the nightmare meant, he couldn’t discuss the matter with Gwenneth or Katarin, let alone Marta. They would quickly find out he’d overstepped his bounds and touched other minds without the inhibitions demanded by the Order’s Rule. He wasn’t that good a dissembler. Not when facing the most talented human lie detectors on the planet.
So far, none tried to violate his privacy — at least not by delving deeply into his mind — and would never know of the grim memories he kept well hidden since mastering the art of self-control. He climbed out of bed, rearranged his bedclothes, then took the water glass, and padded down the hallway to the washroom where he refilled it from the tap.
Once there, he slipped out of his underclothes for a quick rinse in the showers. He returned to his cell stark naked and dripping but met no one along the way. The rest of his night passed without incident. However, he felt bone-weary when the Prote Ora bells sounded at first light, calling the Brethren to rise and perform their morning devotions before another day of service to the community and the Almighty.
— 38 —
––––––––
“Good morning, Stearn.” Katarin waved him into Marta’s workroo
m, now temporarily hers, the following Monday.
“Sister.” He inclined his head respectfully.
“I understand you went out into the community for the first time last Friday.” She pointed at the meditation mat. “Please sit.”
“Loxias took me with him to the Lyonesse Chamber of Commerce quarterly meeting.”
“And how was it?”
“Interesting. I met several big names.” He settled on the mat and adopted the lotus position. Katarin did the same, facing him.
“And analyzed them quite cogently, from what Gwenneth says.”
“The abbess is too kind. I’m not a particularly astute observer of human nature.”
“You picked up more on reading others since arriving here than you might think. And after learning to focus your talent, you’ll notice even more. Marta says your third eye opened briefly before she left for the Windies. Could you please try again, then reach out and touch my mind?”
“Certainly.” He closed his physical eyes and concentrated. After Friday and a weekend of solitary training, he found the exercise much easier than during Marta’s last session. Katarin opened herself for a few moments, so she could confirm the strength of his touch before closing her mental shields again.
“Impressive. I’ve never taught a sister who showed such speed and skill within days of her first successful attempt.”
“I’ve been practicing.”
“Not on others, I trust.”
Stearn shook his head. “No.”
Katarin held his eyes for a few heartbeats, but knowing the question would inevitably arise, he’d carefully composed himself so he could hide any signs of guilt. Short of invading his mind and asking again, she would never find out. Stearn was aware of the irony that a fully developed sixth sense not only made someone a human lie detector but also a skilled dissembler, and his training reinforced a character trait he’d nurtured his entire adult life.
“You will swear the oath this morning, then open your mind so I can embed the concomitant inhibitions that’ll make sure you won’t invade another’s consciousness short of pressing medical or mental health needs.”
He bowed at the neck. “I am ready.”
Katarin led Stearn through the Hippocratic Oath, including the two Order of the Void specific clauses: I will not peer into another human being’s mind except in the course of my duties as a healer nor will I use my knowledge of another’s mind for any purpose other than healing its owner. She told him to lie on his back, eyes closed, and enter a meditative trance while dropping his mental shields.
Over the next four hours, he could detect her ethereal touch etching new imperatives on his engrams. A wave of strange mental nausea threatened to overcome him several times, and she withdrew almost at once until it passed. The idea someone was changing a part of him, be it ever so tiny, at the very core of what made him Stearn Roget and modifying his behavior rankled each time the nausea struck, but there was no choice. They would not let him leave the abbey again without their safeguards.
A tired voice finally broke through his trance. “You may close your mind.”
His eyes opened on a Katarin hunched over with fatigue. She gave him an encouraging smile, though it seemed as if she’d aged twenty years.
“Don’t worry — conditioning a mind to keep the oath always drains my energy. And yours, as you’ll realize in a few seconds. We are both excused from any further activities today. I suggest we partake in the midday meal and sleep until tomorrow morning.”
As Stearn sat up, a deep weariness overcame him. “I see. Does this mean I can leave the abbey?”
“Not yet. You need a few sessions with me to reinforce certain mental habits. How many depends on how fast you progress. When I’m satisfied you won’t present a risk to yourself or others, I will tell Gwenneth.”
She stood with exaggerated care and held out her hand to steady Stearn as he did the same. His stomach rumbled with hunger, and they grinned at each other.
“I think we’re both in need of sustenance,” she said.
“And sleep.”
“That too.”
Yet a few hours later, Stearn woke in a cold sweat again, just like a few nights earlier, driven by the same indistinct but terrifying nightmare. With the dormitory empty on a workday afternoon, no one heard him, nor did anyone see him use the communal showers, and for that, he was grateful.
**
“Brigid DeCarde saw your head friar and his protege at the Chamber of Commerce meeting last week.” Morane gave Gwenneth a chilled glass of gin and tonic beaded with moisture and took his accustomed seat next to her in the solarium overlooking Vanquish Bay. He raised his drink. “Cheers.”
“Your health.”
They took a sip, then Morane said, “Loxias introduced Stearn to the republic’s biggest movers and shakers—”
“Brigid included. Stearn told me about it.”
“During the meeting, Loxias sat with Gerson Hecht and Severin Downes.”
Gwenneth gave him a half shrug. “Hecht Industries owns most of the abbey’s supply and service providers. As chief administrator, Loxias has no choice but to make nice with Gerson. It keeps our costs under control. After all, we’re a religious, not-for-profit organization desirous of saving every cred we can. We’ve never depended on charity and never will.”
“Commendable, I’m sure. They spent a good chunk of the afternoon debating Chamber of Commerce endorsements in the upcoming senatorial elections. Loxias remained commendably silent, but Hecht and Downes threw their support behind candidates who might support the Order taking a bigger role in government affairs, which would also give Hecht an indirect presence in the corridors of power.”
“I won’t allow it.”
“Short of removing Loxias and giving the chief administrator job to a friar who shares your views, I don’t see what you can do. Hecht and Downes must stay at arm's length from every branch of government because of their extensive business dealings with the republic, notably the starship and orbital base construction projects. An ally with no secular ambitions or business interests who enjoys access to the Estates-General, the cabinet, and legislators can be invaluable. It’ll happen no matter what we wish. Our republic, though it doesn’t suffer from the same flaws as the Ruggero dynasty’s empire, remains far from perfect, but we built it on solid foundations.”
“The republic will be even less perfect if it takes on so much as a vague theocratic flavor. Make no mistake. The Lindisfarne Brethren’s goal is to become an influential part of the Lyonesse government. They won’t come out and say so, but I’m convinced of it. Remember, Lindisfarne was neither a republic nor a democracy. The secular colonists had no voice and no representation.”
“I can’t see that happening here. The Defense Force wouldn’t let it.”
The abbess took another sip of her drink.
“Not to that extent, no. But if Loxias can see that the head of the Order, or better yet, the chief administrator sits at the cabinet table, then he’ll have the next best thing. And it won’t upset the voters or the Defense Force. Find enough pro-Loxias senators to elect a president in favor of such an idea, and it’ll be done.”
Morane gave her a curious glance. “You think?”
“I know. Perhaps it won’t happen this time, but the next for sure.”
“Maybe.” Morane took another sip of his drink. “There’s one thing you must know about Stearn.”
“Yes?”
“Brigid said he spent a lot of time staring at several attendees, her included — studying them no doubt. Brigid’s not sure the others noticed, but she did. You know that eerie sensation someone’s watching you?”
“Sure.”
“She got it in spades, almost as if Stearn was breathing down her neck. Warn him that he should never do it with Brigid again. She still believes the Void Brethren hide unholy mind-meddlers in their ranks.”
“Consider it done.”
**
That Friday, after what Katarin said would be his last conditioning session, Stearn wandered out to the farm complex instead of taking a nap. He was looking for one of the university students so he could test the inhibitions planted in his mind because he felt no different than before.
Stearn found a young woman perched on a bale of hay by the barn, sunning herself while eating a sandwich. He leaned on a fence railing, as if admiring the trio of horses roaming around the paddock. After a few minutes of meditation, Stearn opened his third eye and reached out to brush her mind. He found it not unlike that of the other student — bright, contented, brimming with energy and purpose. So far, so good, but the inhibitions were against meddling, not sampling a mind’s aura. As before, Stearn imagined himself flicking it with his finger. Almost immediately, the contentment vanished, replaced with confusion.
And he was fine. The inhibitions didn’t take, something Katarin failed to notice earlier that day when she checked on her work. His first impulse was finding her and letting her know, but the realization he’d just violated the oath quickly suppressed it. No one told him about the penalties for doing so or what happened with mind-meddlers who couldn’t be constrained and therefore posed a danger. He turned away from the paddock and slowly headed for his workstation, wondering why the conditioning failed and what it meant.
That night, he experienced his third hellish phantasm and woke up more distressed than ever. It was as if the suppressed memories of his time in Antelope were trying to resurface.
Gwenneth, believing the conditioning had taken hold, lifted his confinement to the abbey the next day.
— 39 —
Imperial Night (Ashes of Empire, #3) Page 26