by Eric Thomson
Barca picked up the thread when Sirak paused for a bite of cold chicken.
“The most frightening scenario, a chunk of a ship’s contaminated environmental system surviving re-entry and crashing in downtown Lannion has next to no chance of occurring. But the possibility is not nil. We know the virus can survive for days, if not weeks, on various surfaces under the right conditions, which means any wreckage crashing near settlements are potential sources of infection. Sure, we can warn people away from any impact area, then use our energy weapons and burn the debris, but if it’s airborne, a gust of wind in the right direction and suddenly we face an outbreak. Yes, again, very unlikely but not nil.”
“Which means,” DeCarde said when Barca popped a chunk of pickled squash into her mouth, “we must plan for quarantines, mass evacuations, and potentially widespread deaths. It might overwhelm our medical system, citizens will panic, and we could see a breakdown of law and order. Many people, even in the government, are not yet ready for a discussion on what we do if our worst fears come true, but we can’t wait until they’re ready because by then, it might be too late.”
Morane gave her a knowing look. “So, that’s why Gwenneth and I are here.”
“Yes. We wanted to make sure beforehand that the plan we’ll present to you and the cabinet meets your approval. You know the most about running the republic. It’s your brainchild. And Gwenneth is not only a medical professional in her own right, but her Brethren form the backbone of our medical system.”
“Then let me give you a straightforward answer.” He sat back and took a sip of wine. “If wreckage contaminated with the virus enters the atmosphere, Lyonesse must already be under a curfew with everyone sheltering in place while the Defense Force finds the impact site. That means I’ll use my emergency powers and declare martial law the moment reivers are inbound from our hyperlimit. The constitution allows for it in the face of a clear and present danger to the republic’s survival. No one can argue the Barbarian Plague’s arrival on Lyonesse is anything less. Once the Defense Force finds the impact site and isolates it, the curfew can be lifted everywhere except within the immediate vicinity.”
“What about lifting martial law? With elections later this year, the senators will be twitchy and when they get that way...”
“Too bad. We’ll keep martial law in effect until the danger is over, meaning the wreckage has been turned into its constituent atoms, and any trace of the virus erased. If that means scouring a square kilometer of the planet’s surface, even if that square kilometer is downtown Lannion, then so be it. Figure out how far dust from the impact would travel, then double that distance.”
“Triple,” Gwenneth said in a soft tone. “Or even quadruple.”
Morane inclined his head by way of acknowledgment.
“Quadruple, then. If any humans are within that radius, they’ll be quarantined at once and transported to an offshore location they can’t escape. Shoot anyone who evades the quarantine.”
“Hence the need to keep martial law.”
“If, and that’s a big if, the Navy can track wreckage and determine the probable impact site, you can try to evacuate anyone near ground zero beforehand.”
“Your plan will horrify most of the career civilians in the administration, sir.”
“Perhaps not as many as you think. Fear has a way of concentrating the mind on simple solutions.”
“True.” DeCarde turned to Gwenneth. “What about an offshore quarantine location for those who could be exposed?”
“I’d suggest the Windy Isles, but considering it might involve hundreds, if not thousands of people, something closer would be more appropriate, somewhere you could easily resupply internees without exposing crews and aircraft.”
Major General Hamm raised a hand.
“There’s a Ground Forces jungle training camp on Kodo Island. The installation is only occupied when a unit rotates through and shuttered the rest of the time. It’s pretty basic, but there’s room for several hundred, and if need be, we can throw up shelters and double the capacity.”
“Where is it?”
Hamm pulled a flat device from his tunic pocket and placed it on the table. A holographic projection of Tristan’s southern coast appeared along with a small red dot approximately five hundred kilometers southwest of Lannion.
“While escape is not impossible, the distance from the mainland is more than a human can swim by several orders of magnitude, never mind the predatory marine life. We can put eyes on the island and know immediately if someone attempts the swim or launches a raft.”
Gwenneth nodded.
“It should do. You’ll also need a separate offshore decontamination facility for aircraft and the pressure suit of anyone who comes into contact with evacuees. I’d even include those employed in isolating a crash site. Fortunately, repeated tests by the mobile lab show a simple bleach solution is one hundred percent effective in destroying the virus. You’d merely need a way of dunking your soldiers in a vat filled with the solution, then move them to a sterile place before they strip off their suits. You could spray the aircraft inside and out, but it might be easier if you simply parked them away from the decontamination site and left them sitting for a few months. Getting bleach into every nook and cranny will probably be a lot harder than clearing the outside of a pressure suit.”
“Thank you, Sister. There’s another island we sometimes use for training, about a hundred kilometers closer. It has several large clearings at its center.”
“Set up the decontamination site as soon as possible and make practice runs,” Morane said. “You have presidential approval.”
A smile briefly relaxed Hamm’s solemn expression. “Great minds and all that, sir. I was about to ask General Barca for permission.”
“Granted, Devin.”
Sirak glanced at Morane. “In that case, perhaps I should put my aerospace defense crews through their paces.”
“Sure.”
Gwenneth raised a restraining finger.
“Whatever you do, don’t shoot at wreckage once it’s already in the atmosphere. We might end up with several contaminated impact sites.”
“No worries, Sister. I may be a simple Navy man, but I’m not that simple. Although training a few of my better shuttle crews in using tractor beams to divert wreckage if it seems headed for a settled area might be interesting. Send them aloft as soon as the alert sounds with the mission of diverting debris, so it splashes into the ocean far from human life.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Sister, there’s no chance of it infecting native Lyonesse life forms, is there?”
“No. The virus was specifically engineered for us, and while it might mutate enough to survive in other species that evolved on Earth, it would die shortly after entering a native animal. Dumping reiver ship bits and pieces into the sea far from land should be fine. But be cautious. Tractor beams can break up pre-stressed components if they’re not applied evenly.”
Barca cleared her throat gently.
“There’s one last thing, Sister. If we evacuate and quarantine civilians on Kodo Island, they’ll need medical and spiritual care.”
“I know.” A sad smile tugged at Gwenneth’s lips. “We who serve the Almighty in his Infinite Void will provide without complaint or holding back.”
“Thank you.”
— 33 —
A soft grunt of surprise escaped Stearn’s lips, breaking the discipline he’d developed through hard work and repetition over the previous year. He and Marta sat face-to-face in the lotus position, eyes shut, on her training room’s floor mats. He couldn’t describe the sensation that threatened to overwhelm him at that instant. But it was as if the mythical third eye Marta kept mentioning fluttered open for a fraction of a second, and he touched her inner being with his mental fingertips for the first time. Was he reaching the crucial point after weeks of frustration and exhaustion?
He sensed an emotion best categorized as encouragement from Marta, whose mind had been his
target for weeks, and reached out again. This time, the third eye remained open for a few seconds, and he marveled at the calm permeating his teacher’s hidden core, one which mirrored the unbreakable air of serenity she wore like a second skin. Then, unbearable fatigue overcame him, and the third eye snapped shut.
“We will end the exercise.”
Marta’s voice broke through his trance, pulling him to the surface after a dive into the darkest of waters. His physical eyes slowly opened, and he saw her watching him.
“It took longer than I expected, but you’ve made the desired breakthrough. You can reach out and touch other minds in a controlled manner.”
“I wasn’t able to do it for long.” Stearn’s voice sounded distant to his own ears as if part of him was still somewhere else.
“No one can focus on their first successful attempt. Building the ability so you can call on it whenever you want takes time and practice. A lot of it. What you experienced so far will seem like a mental vacation on a sunny beach down by the sea once we begin your training in earnest.” When he suppressed a yawn, she gave him a compassionate smile. “Once you become proficient, you won’t be exhausted every time. Tired, yes. It takes a lot of energy. But not to the extent you’re feeling right now.”
“Good, because I’d like nothing better than sleep for a week.”
“That’s natural. Because I saw your third eye open, you will take the oath before we continue, which means I will condition you against misusing the talent. It will take an incredible amount of energy from both of us, but we cannot continue training until that is done.”
Stearn bowed his head.
“I shall do as you say, Sister. But with your permission, I would return to my cell and sleep. Perhaps my mind will process what just happened, and I’ll wake with renewed determination.”
“Your mind will. Expect vivid dreams. Under the circumstances, you’re excused other duties for today, as well as attendance at services. I’ll inform Friar Loxias.”
“Thank you.”
“And do not try the exercise on your own. Until you’ve gained experience under my guidance, it would be a recipe for migraines, unbearable exhaustion, and sleepless nights. Did you ever see ancient maps of Earth with notations that say here be dragons?”
“No, Sister.”
“They marked dangerous or unexplored territory. You are now standing in front of such a notation. Do not take another step without my guidance.”
“Yes, Sister.”
“You may go.”
**
“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.”