by Ann Wilson
32. Briefing
Medart went to his suite, preferring to be alone rather than spoil theFamily's evening. It wasn't their fault he didn't consider torture avalid form of punishment--and never would, though he had to accept thatin many cultures it was exactly that--or that watching it made him feelhe wouldn't be comfortable company for several hours. The best thingfor him in a mood like this was privacy, a long hot soak, and eithersomething to study or an action-adventure tape that didn't take muchthought.
The suite's 'fresher provided the first, and there was a bookcase inthe suite's sitting room that, while it didn't have either of the othertwo, did have enough variety and interest to keep him occupied until areasonable time, local, to go to bed and do some thinking until he fellasleep. If you were alone, he'd found, bed was one of the best placespossible for concentrated thought: dark, quiet, and with nointerruptions.
One thing he'd have to do fairly soon, he decided, was have a seriousdiscussion with Odeon about religion. It was clear even from thelittle he'd seen, never mind Odeon's conviction that God and Devil hadcooperated in healing Cortin, that religion was far more important inthe Systems than it was in the Empire.
After that, though, what? The Brothers of Freedom seemed to be theKingdom Systems' biggest problem; it would have to be a big plus if heand the rest of the visiting Imperials could help wipe out that sort ofthreat.
He wasn't prepared for what happened next. He felt a mind-touch, morepowerful than he would have believed possible. *You needn't beconcerned about the Brotherhood, Ranger. They are my concern, and theProtector's.*
*What the-- Who are you?*
*I have many names. You call me Satan, people here call me Shayan, andat present I call myself Lucius. You are absolutely correct about theother, however; you should indeed have a talk with Michael Odeon, andsoon. Tonight, I think.*
*Satan, huh?* The other believed that, and his mind-touch wasdefinitely both powerful and non-human, though it reminded him in a wayof Cortin's. But the actual Christian Devil? *That's a bit hard toswallow.*
*You will come to accept it. I would say, from what I sense going onin the common-room, that Cortin is in the process of transferring herProtector role to the one who will hold it permanently. That means adecision point crucial to this entire universe will arrive within days,perhaps hours, and you should have the same information I was permittedto give Family Cortin.* Medart got the impression of a sardonic smile.*Cortin's role in the primary drama has ended, save for the formalityof bringing the Systems into your Empire, and the Protector will be, asI am, restricted to the Systems, at least for a time. The true focalpoint here is, and always has been, Michael Odeon; his birth anddevelopment are the culmination of the history you studied on the wayhere, and his decision will determine the fate of this universe. Hedoes not know that, and you will be no more able to tell him than Iam--but I would urge you most solemnly to influence him in the Empire'sfavor, to the point where he would leave his family to serve it.*
Medart frowned, sitting up. *If I can't tell him, why tell me? Who'llstop us? How could one man's decision affect an entire universe? And,most important, if you're who you claim, how come I sense anxiety fromyou instead of hostility?*
*The last question first, then. This universe is going to be invadedsoon, by beings who frighten even me. If Odeon's decision is for theEmpire, that invasion will lead to the most life-destructive war in theuniverse's history. If he decides for his family, instead of war therewill be simple massacre, which will include me and my demons. So I actas I do out of pure self-interest. That also answers your first andthird questions. Knowing my identity, you should be able to tell mewho will stop us.*
*Assuming you are who you claim to be, it'd have to be the Creator.*
*Yes. While He--A, in your Omnist terms--wants the same choice we do,Michael must be allowed his freedom. An odd concept, to me, but one Heinsists on.*
*Mike's more than he seems, then. And that's got to be one roughenemy, to have someone like you worried; even if you're not Satan,you've got the strongest Talent I've ever felt. When's the invasion,so I can tell His Majesty?*
Medart sensed amusement. *Your skepticism should anger me, JamesMedart, but I find it refreshing instead. If Odeon makes the properdecision, you will come to belief in the appropriate god at thenecessary time. It is indeed 'one rough enemy', but I am not allowedto identify them to you further, and since the timing of numerousincidents in the defense is crucial, I doubt you will be able to tellanyone except Odeon any of this conversation. It is even possiblethat, once the decision point is passed, my Adversary may edit some ofyour memories to prevent inadvertent premature revelations.*
*I don't like that idea, but if you're right, I won't have any say inthe matter, so there's no point in worrying or complaining. What aboutMike?*
*I am not permitted to go into his background. I can, however, tellyou that, should he decide in favor of the Empire, the Protector willgive him Ranger-level abilities--including, if he chooses, thenecessary mind-set.*
*Umm.* Medart got out of bed and put on a robe. An invasion hecouldn't report, by an enemy that frightened someone as powerful as theone who was briefing him, with the best-case scenario for the Empire adevastating war--that didn't sound good at all. And it all hinged onone man! Well, at least it included the possibility of a new Ranger,which was definitely to the good. Tarlac assassinated right after theTraiti War, Menshikov, Ellman, and Steinhauer killed during the briefWhite Order revolt--even though he'd recruited Corina Losinj duringthat revolt, they were still three short of the average, and even thatwasn't enough. *Will I be able to use that possibility in convincinghim?*
*I believe so, though he does not at present have the scope to fullycomprehend what a Ranger is. I have told you what is possible to meand necessary to you; we will not be in contact again until thedecision point.*
With that, the contact broke. Medart shook his head, then went intothe living room and made himself a cup of coffee. Instant from amicrowave didn't match what he got from a shipboard service panel, butit was coffee, and he had a bad habit that way.