by Eric Thomson
Amelia shook her head.
“No, Sister.” She hesitated. “Do you think there might be a glimmer?”
“I won’t know until I verify. That is why Gwenneth sent me. But as Mirjam said, we will let matters rest until tomorrow.”
“Understood.” Amelia glanced at the prioress. “With your permission?”
“Carry on.”
Once Amelia’s footsteps faded away, Marta asked, “How is my star pupil doing?”
“Amelia is a credit to your teaching. She is a formidable counselor, helping us with the most irredeemable prisoners, and she took part in the treatment without hesitation. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up taking your place when you retire to a life of contemplation.”
“Then she has a long wait ahead of her. I’m still as spry as I was the day my training began.”
“No doubt. We should thank the Almighty that our talent comes with a few side benefits, like delayed aging.”
**
Once the sun vanished behind a watery horizon, Mirjam led Marta into the refectory, where she went around and greeted the Priory’s Brethren one-by-one. Most of them, save for the exiles, now friars of the Order, were old acquaintances, if not former students. When Mirjam introduced her to Erasmus, Marnix, and Shakib, she briefly looked into each man’s eyes and gently reached out with her mind. They were unfailingly polite, though guarded, as if they’d heard about Marta’s prowess as the Order’s foremost teacher.
Later, Marta and Mirjam shared a pot of tea in front of the latter’s open office windows so they could admire the moonlit lagoon on one of the rare nights when all three of Lyonesse’s natural satellites, including Ys, were visible over the Windies. The triple shadows they cast no longer seemed as strange to Marta’s eyes as they did during her early years on Lyonesse, but she still found the sight intriguing.
“What did you think of our new friars?”
Marta took a sip of tea and replied, eyes still on the silver ripples, “I’m not sure. I briefly reached out while you introduced us. Their minds seemed hollow, as if part of their personality has vanished, which I suppose makes sense since you wiped the engrams that drove their disorder and didn’t replace it with anything else.”
“We hoped their training would fill part of the emptiness, but so far, that hasn’t happened.”
“The mind of the one who calls himself Erasmus is stronger than those of his companions and didn’t feel quite as bare.”
Mirjam nodded. “He was a challenge. His disorder dwarfed those of every other prisoner in the Supermax section. The man he used to be was utterly malevolent.”
“Then it’s remarkable how peaceful he seems. You can’t tell he once harbored a heinous soul.” Marta turned and smiled at her colleague. “I confess I’ve been skeptical about your treatment, but no more.”
“Really? Even though it was you who suggested we study whether we can use the process by which sisters are conditioned against misusing their talent to correct aberrant behavior?”
“I never thought it would be possible to cure lifelong sociopaths. Imagine if we identified those with behavior problems before they caused harm and treated them so they could enjoy a normal life. Yes, I know we can’t go around telling parents their children will become serial killers or worse, because it would raise the question of how we know they faced such a fate.”
“It is unfortunate. Imagine how many innocent lives we would save.” Mirjam took another sip of tea. “You know we don’t need the patient’s consent for a successful treatment. We can enter a mind and wipe the relevant engrams at will.”
“Really?” Marta’s eyebrows arched up in surprise. “That raises so many ethical questions.”
“Which is why we don’t discuss it. Besides, if we cured unwilling prisoners, the wardens would soon figure out we’re doing more than just counseling. Mind you, getting as many out of Supermax as possible and giving them useful lives, even though none will ever leave the Windies, remains a worthwhile endeavor.”
— 34 —
“How are you this morning, Stearn?” Loxias’ voice boomed across the empty refectory, now that most of the Brethren were off to their various tasks. Being exempt from work for the day meant Roget could linger after breakfast, and he didn’t mind the solitude. His room in the dormitory seemed too confining, for reasons he didn’t understand.
He bowed his head respectfully.
“I’ve regained my energy, though my mind keeps worrying at the strange dreams I experienced.”
Loxias poured himself a cup of tea and took a seat across from the younger man.
“I wouldn’t know about those dreams since I’m just a normal friar with little talent other than the ability to read people and influence them. But you made an extraordinary breakthrough, one which might end the sisters’ exclusive rule over our Order. If only we could figure out what makes you tick, we might find a way of creating more friars with your abilities.”
“I’ve only just begun. My capabilities might not be much greater than yours.”
Loxias waved the objection away. “I’ve been watching you from day one, my friend. You’re already more aware than most of my friars. Since you’re at loose ends while Marta is gone, how about shadowing me for a few days? You would learn more about administering the Order and see how we interact with Lyonesse society these days. It wouldn’t do any harm if you met some folks who’ll be important for us in the coming years.”
Roget shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I still don’t know what I’ll be doing once my time with Marta is over. But I don’t like people enough to become a teacher, counselor, or healer, I didn’t enjoy farming back home, and the abbey has little call for a starship engineer. No offense, but working on the environmental systems day in and day out isn’t part of my long-term plans.”
“I’m sure you’ll become proficient at anything you want. But here’s the thing. A man of your potential has a duty to seek the highest leadership positions so he can challenge the sisters when they insist on looking inward while our future demands we look outward. They disregard what we ordinary friars say, but they won’t dare ignore one who matches them talent for talent. Especially if that man finds support among the Brethren and presents himself as our first abbot.” Loxias drained his cup. “Ever heard of a pre-diaspora sage by the name Hilaire Belloc?”
“No.”
“He famously said, time after time, mankind is driven against the rocks of the horrid reality of a fallen creation. And time after time, mankind must learn the hard lessons of history—the lessons that for some dangerous and awful reason we can’t seem to keep in our collective memory. I consider it my mission to make sure the Order doesn’t lose its collective memory of humanity’s latest fall, which will happen if we keep looking inward and exclude everything else.” Loxias stood. “Come. It’s time for the morning rounds.”
**
Seled Hyson seemed older and more worn out by life than Marta expected. She was watching the three new postulants from the shadows of an upper-story window as Friar Rikkard led them through a series of exercises designed to rebuild bodies wasted by decades behind bars. Marta didn’t reach out and touch their minds. But she saw much in their postures, their facial expressions, and their eyes. Especially the eyes.
Whoever called them windows to the soul long ago didn’t know the half of it. None of the three possessed one worth mentioning. Just like Erasmus and his companions. Did the treatment erase it? Or did those with personality disorders lack a soul in the first place? Marta had peered into the eyes of irredeemable psychopaths and found an emptiness that still haunted her worst dreams. Though it was a peace of sorts, without the chaos of disordered minds like the ones Mirjam and her counselors were treating.
The training session ended with the customary exchange of bows, then Rikkard led them back to the dormitory while Marta headed for the meditation room she’d requisitioned at the back of the priory’s main building. There, she took one of the two chairs and composed h
erself while waiting for Hyson. She didn’t nurture preconceived notions about the upcoming encounter and therefore let her thoughts wander aimlessly rather than dwell on what would happen shortly.
When her ears noticed the sound of two humans entering the corridor, one with a heavier tread than the other, Marta’s eyes opened, and she pushed away the last tendrils of her light trance. Friar Rikkard’s familiar shape filled the open doorway. He dipped his head respectfully.
“Sister, I bring you the postulant named Seled.”
“Thank you. She may enter.”
Rikkard stepped aside and waved Hyson in, pointing at the empty chair facing Marta.
“Please sit, Seled.”
Both women studied each other in silence as Hyson obeyed Rikkard.
“Sister Marta is one of the Order’s most revered teachers,” he continued. “Second only to Abbess Gwenneth.”
“Yes, Friar.”
Marta glanced at Rikkard, her eyes silently telling him he could safely leave Hyson with her. He inclined his head again and obeyed without uttering another word. When he closed the door behind him, she gave the exile her full attention.
“What do you remember of the person who inhabited your mind before the treatment?”
Hyson’s shoulders twitched in an involuntary shrug.
“Most of my past, I suppose. But there are many gaps which I’m told was where the sisters removed the memories of my crimes. They said endless rage once filled me, but I cannot remember how or why.”
“And how are you now?”
Hyson bit her lower lip as she thought. “I’m not sure. Empty? I can recall having many emotions as a child, but they seem foreign.”
“Do you recall emotions you experienced as an adult?”
“No. The sisters took my memories of them as well. I suppose my rage permeated everything once I grew up.”
As they spoke, Marta gently reached out and touched Hyson’s mind. She found an aching emptiness where she expected a riot of emotion in healthy humans. Hyson didn’t seem as barren as the psychopaths Marta studied, but it was close. She certainly wasn’t chaotic like Stearn before he learned to discipline his thoughts. That would make her training much easier.
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 and react badly to it?”