“Since none of that was noted in Antelope’s log or database, I gather someone tampered with both, correct?”
“I did. After the crash. In case someone found me.” Another cough, this one weaker. “I really wanted a life here, but the lure of using my talent in ways I shouldn’t was more than I could resist. If only I’d left well enough alone and not taken vows... I guess I’m a weaker man than I thought.” His breathing became shallower and more labored, and Marta knew the end was near. “I won’t ask for your forgiveness, because I don’t deserve it.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Yet, I forgive you nonetheless, and the Almighty will receive your soul, no matter how damaged.”
One last rale and Stearn Roget was dead. Marta closed his eyes and climbed wearily to her feet. An entirely irrational craving for life as a hermit in Lyonesse’s wilderness overcame her. And she needed sleep. Lots of it. Yet Marta knew the former was not her destiny, and the latter would be delayed. When she turned to the door, she found Brigid DeCarde and Commander Lutzow watching her silently. They might even have overheard some of Stearn’s dying confession, but Marta found she didn’t care.
“Emergency teams are on their way,” Lutzow said.
“One team will suffice. Gwenneth and Stearn are now part of the Infinite Void. I’ll call the abbey’s infirmary. They’ll remove the mortal remains. We will bury their ashes on abbey land.”
“Will your people conduct autopsies to find out how they died?”
Marta shook her head.
“No need. They suffered cardiac arrest due to unbearable stress. I’ve seen it before. You’ll find Vice President Sandino died of the same cause.”
Neither DeCarde nor Lutzow spoke, though both watched her with undisguised suspicion.
“All Brethren, save those with hospital or clinic duties will return to the abbey as soon as possible and stay there until further notice while I investigate what happened.”
“You will investigate?” DeCarde’s face hardened. “Four people are dead; the president is in a coma, and you will investigate? I think not.”
“Three of the four are Brethren, including the perpetrator, and until we hold a vote, I will assume the duties of the Summus Abbatissa. What happened today directly results from a breakdown within the Order, one which I must repair.”
“We shall see. You probably know that since Jonas Morane is incapacitated and Charis Sandino is dead, I’m the republic’s interim president until either Jonas recovers or the next senate elects a successor. We will have a heart-to-heart talk about the Order’s future in the next twenty-four hours, Sister. I’m sorry — Summus Abbatissa.”
DeCarde’s tone took on a mocking edge that struck Marta like a physical blow.
“Because of his longstanding friendship with Gwenneth, our president knows more about the Order’s inner dealings than he lets on. And he didn’t share with me because of my opinion you people are dangerous mind-meddlers despite the good your healers and counselors do. It’s time you come clean with me. I want answers about what happened here today so we can make sure it never happens again.”
Marta inclined her head respectfully.
“Of course, Madame President.”
— 49 —
––––––––
DeCarde sat back in the presidential chair and studied Marta, her expression one of disbelief mixed with anger after the latter revealed some of the Order’s most closely guarded secrets.
“So, the Ancestor was right. You are mind-meddlers.”
“Only a small number of us, those with an open third eye, and only for healing purposes. Most of the sisters have only a highly developed sixth sense and can only read the emotions of those not shielding their minds.”
“And Jonas Morane knew about this ability?”
Marta nodded.
“Yes. He understood the good we can do with our expanded senses. The friars have a heightened ability to read others because of a stronger sixth sense than most and their training. But the talent, as we call it, is almost purely a female phenomenon. Except for Stearn Roget. He was an unprecedented anomaly. Unfortunately, I didn’t know until his deathbed confession, that he was also a cold-blooded killer, someone who murdered countless humans. Otherwise, I would never have taught him what I teach sisters with an open third eye. I suppose I was guilty of hubris.”
“Without a doubt. You, Gwenneth, and the rest of the sisters are exploring things best left alone. Nemesis follows hubris just as surely as night follows day, and we saw plenty of nemesis in the last twenty-four hours.”
Marta inclined her head.
“I cannot offer arguments to the contrary, Madame President. Without my teachings, Stearn would have lived a normal life in the community, and those he murdered would still be among the living.”
“Until he opted for a little piracy on the side, and we found ourselves with a serial killer ravaging Lannion.”
“Doubtful. By the time Stearn reached the stage at which I should have stopped his training, the darkness he carried within was safely bottled up where he couldn’t feed off it. We successfully treated inmates with antisocial personality disorders and brought them to the same point.”
The interim president gave her a hard stare. “Something you will cease doing until further notice.”
“We already stopped weeks ago, when one of the inmates in question suffered from complications leading to cardiac arrest.”
“Good.”
“I’ve also decided we would ship our excess friars and sisters — those too interested in secular matters — south where they will set up a priory on Isolde’s north coast. It can anchor the republic’s first settlement on the continent and become its medical center. That will end the Lindisfarne Brethren’s ability to meddle in politics.”
Marta let out a heartfelt sigh.
“We played with fire and burned innocents. For that, I offer you my and the Order’s deepest apologies. Nothing we can do or say will ever make up for what happened. You may also rest assured I will force through an amendment to the Rule which will forbid any involvement in secular politics.”
“What about the mind-meddling?”
“We condition our sisters against doing so unless it’s for medical purposes. Our version of the Hippocratic Oath makes specific mention of not violating someone’s mind. And we do not train anyone to that level unless they take the oath and accept the conditioning. Unfortunately, it failed in Stearn, and I take full responsibility for that as well. He is proof the male mind differs from the female mind, at least where the talent is concerned. Procedures that work on sisters didn’t work on him. Once his delusions led him into a spiral of self-destruction, there was no going back.”
DeCarde looked away for a few seconds, jaw muscles working.
“Yes, let’s talk about the delusion Jonas would use his emergency powers to suspend the legislature and make himself president for life. He was on the verge of ending the emergency when Stearn struck. We weren’t facing an attack by plague-infested reivers. Ten out of the twelve were ghost ships, everyone aboard dead. The other two gave off life signs so faint, it was clear the last survivors weren’t long for this universe. Lyonesse was never in any actual danger. Had Stearn waited a few minutes longer, he would have received the message it was over. He and Gwenneth would be alive, and Jonas wouldn’t be in a coma.”
“Perhaps, but by the time Stearn entered Government House, I think his last connection with reality was frayed beyond repair. Murdering Loxias, his friend and mentor, in such a horrible manner — stripping him of his very essence — was the act of an irretrievably damaged mind. The only way this could have ended otherwise is if someone had shot and killed Stearn before he reached the vice president’s residence.”
“You leave me in a quandary, you realize that, right? If the truth about what happened to Jonas and Charis gets out, you’ll find citizens with torches and pitchf
orks swarming the abbey. Lyonesse will lose the backbone of its health system, and we won’t just be burying a few of the Brethren. I cannot trust your lot and never will, yet for the greater good, I’ll go along with whatever story you concoct and never tell another soul about your secrets. I cannot sever the symbiotic relationship between your Order and the republic without killing both.”
Marta bowed her head again. “Thank you.”
“But fending off the inevitable questions so far has been almost unbearable. A dead vice president and a president in a coma while the republic was under martial law? The more extreme conspiracy theorists are no doubt accusing me of engineering their removal, so I could seize power.”
“Tell the truth or at least a version of it. Friar Stearn, the man Dawn Hunter rescued on Yotai and who later joined the Order of the Void, lost his mind for reasons we cannot yet explain. He went on a murderous rampage and used his privileged position to make his way past the vice president’s security after killing the Order’s chief administrator, who first realized Stearn posed a danger. He entered Government House intending to assassinate President Morane but was intercepted by Abbess Gwenneth, who gave her life to stop him.”
“What about Jonas? Commander Lutzow and the close protection team know Stearn never got near him, yet he suffered a life-threatening seizure not long after your friar showed up.”
Marta shrugged helplessly. “Some things cannot be rationally explained without revealing too much, so it’s best we don’t try. Let it be known I’m investigating what happened and direct any questions you can’t answer to me.”
DeCarde tapped the desktop with her fingertips while eying Marta.
“I suppose that’ll have to do. What’s the president’s condition?”
“Jonas remains in a coma, but he’s stable. I saw him this morning, and his mind is nowhere near as damaged as Loxias’ or Sandino’s. I reached his side in time to prevent Stearn from burning everything away. Since a good part of his essence or soul remains, he will recover with the right help. I’ve recalled Sister Amelia from the Windy Isles for that purpose. She was my most talented student and will sit with Jonas day and night so she can help rebuild his inner being. In a few weeks, the Almighty willing, we can wake him and heal his conscious mind. He’ll never be quite the same as before, sadly, but then neither are those who suffer life-threatening physical injuries.”
“I suppose I should thank you for saving Jonas.” DeCarde gave Marta a grudging look.
“Gwenneth deserves your thanks more than I. She successfully shut Stearn down. Without her, I could not have saved the president.”
“Should I lay on a state funeral for Gwenneth?”
Marta tilted her head to one side while examining DeCarde for any trace of mockery. When she saw none, she shook her head.
“Thank you, but no. Gwenneth wouldn’t want anything more than a modest service in the abbey’s chapter house, followed by the burial of her ashes in our cemetery, especially after what happened. We Brethren must pull back from secular practices and concerns.”
“Yes, you do. I don’t want to hear anything more about Lindisfarne Brethren or friars sticking their noses into politics. Gwenneth erred in tolerating them.”
“She had little choice at the time. But after yesterday’s events, I can do what’s needed without opposition. The Brethren are in shock, and many fear you might unleash the sort of pogrom Admiral Zahar encouraged.”
“I won’t lie, Abbess. The avenger buried deep inside me likes the idea, so I’m glad your people are feeling a bit of fear. May it bring humility to those who forgot their purpose is serving the Almighty and the community instead of their ambitions.”
“Breaking ground for the new Isolde Priory will do wonders to remind them.”
“If they accept you as their leader.”
“None dare challenge my assumption of power after what happened. I set the vote for next week, and it’s a foregone conclusion. I will chart a new course for the Brethren, one that takes the Order back to its roots.”
“Why do I sense a Furie of ancient myth stirring in you?”
A sardonic smile tugged at Marta’s lips.
“Because in another life you would be one of us. The ability to read people will stand you in good stead as president. But that wasn’t your question. Yes, there is a Furie in me, an Erinye which has remained silent since the rebels on Mykonos overthrew imperial rule and executed the father of my children. That Furie has been biding her time for a quarter-century. Gwenneth was a good abbess, but one wedded to the past. She couldn’t envisage the changes needed, let alone force them through in the face of Brethren who forgot the Order’s true purpose. I see that now, and it took Stearn’s transgressions to open my eyes. I intend to reform the Order as atonement for my part in enabling Stearn and that will take my inner Furie’s full strength.”
“In that case, I wish you luck, Abbess.”
“Thank you, but if it’s the Almighty’s will that I succeed, luck won’t be necessary.”
“And if your plans don’t line up with the Almighty’s?”
“Then, I will find another way. The Almighty does not close a door without opening a window. But I feel the path I’m contemplating is the right one. Lyonesse consciously rejected the spiritual and physical trappings of the empire so it could look toward the future. The Order must sever its connection with the past as well, or we will become worse than irrelevant.”
“And what is worse than irrelevant? Or should I not ask?”
“We become a threat to the republic.”
DeCarde smirked. “Finally, something we can agree on.”
— 50 —
––––––––
“You’re looking well, sir.” Brigid DeCarde smiled at Jonas Morane as she climbed out of the staff car that brought her from Government House to Vanquish Bay. She was traveling without a retinue, not even Commander Lutzow, and her close protection team had joined Morane’s in watching over his estate the moment her aircar crossed its perimeter.
“Looks can be deceiving and don’t call me sir. I think we presidents can use our first names in public as well as in private, protocol be damned. Congratulations, by the way. I remember you weren’t keen to take the job, but the senate chose wisely.”
She made a distinctly unpresidential face. “Thanks, I think.”
Morane gestured at the gaping front door to his house, where Emma Reyes waited.
“Please come in. It’s been too long.”
“You missed a lot during your enforced timeout.”
“Apparently.” Morane and Reyes led her to the solarium, where a tray with drinks waited. “I’m still catching up. I understand your nomination to the presidency went unchallenged.”
DeCarde sat in what was once Gwenneth’s favorite chair and accepted a chilled glass of white wine.
“Viktor Arko couldn’t drop his candidacy fast enough, seeing as how he was tainted by association with Stearn, the friar-assassin. And with Charis dead, that left the acting incumbent once most senate challengers financed by Hecht and his cronies either dropped out or lost their bids. Say what you like about Arko, he’s a shrewd operator who knows when to fold his cards.” She took an appreciative sip. “It seems that I am, in the opinion of certain political analysts, what is known as the steady hand on the tiller steering our ship of state.”
“And those analysts aren’t wrong. You’d have been my personal pick if it weren’t for my conviction an outgoing president shouldn’t put forward the name of his or her successor even indirectly, despite Elenia Yakin’s discrete lobbying on my behalf. I’m not surprised Viktor backed away. He and I may not agree on much, but he has good instincts, the sort that keep him out of trouble both politically and personally. I may even go so far as crediting him with a personal sense of honor.”
“Not me, but that’s beside the point. I doubt he’ll seek public office again. And
how are you feeling?”
Morane took a sip from his glass and shrugged.
“Physically, I’m fine, though I need to rebuild my muscle mass after so long in a hospital bed. Emma’s making sure I exercise religiously for at least two hours every day. She installed a gym in one of the empty bedrooms and asked the groundskeeping staff to cut a running path along the bay.”
He fell silent, as if searching for words.
“But there’s an emptiness inside me, a chunk of myself missing. I still have my memories and my emotions, and my thought patterns seem intact, yet I feel like a shadow of who I once was. Sister Amelia tells me that in time, the emptiness will fill up as I keep on living, and my soul finds renewed purpose. It won’t be the same, but I’ll no longer qualify as the hollow man. She’s quite the mind-meddler herself, our Amelia. I doubt I’d have recovered this much without her help. We had long discussions about her part in the Stearn Roget saga, and she now sees matters the same way as Marta.”
He gave DeCarde a crooked grin.
“Yes, I realize you trust them even less now that Marta revealed their innermost secrets, but keep in mind Stearn was an anomaly, one which will not repeat itself. The Order has been instrumental in helping us build a resilient Lyonesse in a galaxy gone mad. We mustn’t let one deranged friar destroy everything.”
“Oh, I understand that. We need them just as they need us. But no more picking up wild talents in ruined star systems and unleashing their pent-up abilities.”
Imperial Night (Ashes of Empire, #3) Page 33