Faced with such a reality, the administration, like all great bureaucracies before it, chose to control and subjugate the object of its discontent rather than engage in a pitched battle against popular sentiment.
Shasah’s talent despite her incredibly young age, and Ren’s strong feelings toward her, gave the administration just the leverage it needed to force several concessions out of the Professor that would safeguard and preserve the integrity of the Academy, while still allowing it to tap any potential benefits resulting from Ren’s work.
To this effect the administration granted Ren his request to continue with his studies into the field of the meta conscious. He was provided with a bare minimum of funding and was charged with screening and selecting an initial test class to be comprised of twenty young subjects admitted into a separate program under the auspices of the Academy.
The deal, as they had come to it, required that this less than scientific program be restricted to an all female composition, assuming Ren intended for his daughter Shasah to be a part of it, which he emphatically did.
If Ren were to come across any promising male candidates he was required to refer them directly to the Academy’s admissions office for further evaluation and possible mainstreaming into its own program.
Ren selected his test group from orphanages across the Islands. The unfortunate predicament of these young girls allowed him to keep them in the program full time. Ren affectionately referred to them as his ‘Children’.
An additional aspect to the deal struck prevented the new program from sharing the Academy’s name or its location. Ren chose a small island adjacent to the one housing the Academy for the program’s campus. It was large enough to fit the three small structures it already housed but not much else. The structures had initially been used as an off-campus storage facility by the Academy. Ren converted the small buildings into a micro complex complete with dormitory, classrooms and general assembly areas.
The Professor was allowed to bring his program on visits to the main Academy campus for the sake of training alongside Student Academics, teaching both boy and girl how to function together as a unit and reach the highest levels of practical Wave theory adoption. However, these visits were only sanctioned on a case by case basis by the administration, with each visit having to go through its own request and permission granting process.
The Professor accepted all these restrictions good naturedly, naming his program and the pursuit of the meta conscious, Prophecy, and those who studied there, Prophets, taking the insult hurled at him by the Academic establishment and brandishing it as a badge of honor for all to see.
In a short while the Prophecy program had become an undeniable success, much to the chagrin of the Academy administration. Its reputation spread and talk of a larger location could be heard discussed in backchannel Parliamentary conversations. Funding was increased and several more classes were added to reach capacity on the tiny island.
At that point, what was of primary concern to the Academy, and to Professor Ren himself, was the need to develop a means of Prophesying for Academics remotely and across great distances. Without this ability Prophecy would never achieve an operational level of practicality. Ren spent his remaining days working on the problem but it would be his daughter Shasah who would later solve it with the advent of Mist.
Chapter 6: Commandeer
The Prophecy, Caras 1
Why was Analel placing so much stock in something that would, in all likelihood, turn out to be nothing at all? Was she that disillusioned with life as a Prophet? Was the pressure to make Motherhood wearing her down? And how would she react if and when she finally did come face to face with cold, hard fact? Would it break her?
All these thoughts ran through Quinn’s head as she put on a brave face and joked around with Analel about what would happen if they got caught trying to break into the Library. Analel guessed they would probably be reassigned to Prophesying for incarcerated convicts at the Island correctional facility on Guanos. Quinn thought that might not be as bad as all that given how at least a convict’s mind was sure to be somewhat interesting to explore, if a bit uncouth, unlike Academics whose minds were about as fun to read as the textbooks they spent most their days pouring over. Analel’s drink actually came up through her nose when Quinn wondered aloud if at some point one of the stuck-up Students at the Academy ever tried to use their imaginations, whether or not they might actually hear the cracking of binding.
All along, though, Quinn was thinking how this could very well be their last day at the Prophecy. A bit over dramatic? Perhaps. But Quinn and Analel had worked their entire lives to get within reach of Motherhood, and Quinn would sooner suffer an arranged marriage to a Mainlander than see Analel throw that all away because of some delusion. But that’s exactly what it seemed like Analel was poised to do.
Her plan was crazy. They had spent the remainder of the afternoon in their quarters ironing out the specifics, hoping to account for as much of the what ifs as possible, which of course was impossible. The other thing that concerned Quinn was Analel’s apparent failure to grasp the gravity of what they were planning. The fact that this little stunt could very well get them both thrown out of the Prophecy seemed to be completely lost on her flighty friend. This, perhaps more than anything else, gave Quinn reason for pause.
Quinn trusted Analel with her life and she was sure Analel one hundred percent believed everything she thought she saw in her meditative state, but believing something to be true and it actually being true were two very different things. Analel was on the wrong side of conventional wisdom and it was far more likely that a runaway imagination under the influence of meditative euphoria was what was behind the seemingly inexplicable, rather than the inexplicable itself.
The more Quinn thought about it the more uneasy she became. But then again, she loved Analel like a sister and she had never seen Annie this excited before over anything for as long as she’d known her. And when Annie got excited about something, it was contagious.
In short, Quinn was conflicted. She thought that maybe if she could just understand Analel’s obsession a bit better it would help her decide what to do. “OK, so you have this connection with this boy,” began Quinn, revisiting a line of supposition she and Analel had explored several times over already.
“Student,” qualified Analel as she took another sip of her drink, determined to keep all liquids going down the right pipes from here on out. They were sitting on Analel’s bed, legs folded beneath them and facing each other. “Student,” repeated Quinn, correcting herself with a sideways smirk at Analel, its unspoken meaning clearly being, Why so defensive?
“Maybe you had his Wave Card at some point in the past and you just don’t remember it. It’s possible that you could have stumbled onto his Wave Length, even without a Reader and the aid of Mist, assuming you’d experienced his Wave pattern at one time or another. The odds would still be astronomical but it would at least leave room for a fluke. A monumental fluke, but a possible fluke nonethe-less.”
“Look, Quinn. I never had his Card before. I know it sounds crazy-”
“It sounds impossible, Annie.”
“And yet it’s true. I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“So you need answers. Why am I risking my future for this tonight? Can’t we wait to find a less... illegal way for you to get your answers?”
Analel sighed tediously. “Because he has a duel tonight, and from the looks of things it’s rather important. At least to him it is. I need to be his Prophet. I can’t explain it. I just feel it. We’re connected somehow and I feel like this is the only way I’m going to understand this connection: What it means? What it means for Prophecy? What it means for me?” Analel dropped the explanatory tone and switched to one more suited to discussing serious business. “Now, are you sure the best time to…” Analel paused.
“Break in? Really Annie, if you can’t even say the words-”
“Break in,” repeated Anal
el with defiance in her exaggerated enunciation. “You’re sure it’s dinner time?”
Now it was Quinn’s turn to feel the tediousness of uninformed questioning. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s when the area around and inside the Library is most likely to be deserted. I just hope you can find your boyfriend’s Wave Card along with the Reader assigned to him in time. Neither of us has ever seen the Library before and we haven’t the slightest clue as to where to look once you’re inside.”
Listening to herself list off all the flaws in their plan, Quinn was starting to feel like disaster was inevitable. There had to be another way. “Look, why don’t you just sneak out a message to this Student on a supply transport and see if he’ll reply back. It wouldn’t be the first time a Prophet’s done something like that. Remember Selese? What’d they do to her when she got caught? A year of kitchen duty and held back from Motherhood for two years. I have no idea why you’d think this Student would be worth that, but it’s got to be better than what would happen to you - to us - if we got caught breaking into the Library.” Quinn continued now with a conspiratorial smile. “Besides, Selese was caught. That doesn’t mean there weren’t others who got away with it.”
Analel was intrigued. “Really? Who?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”
“Oh, shut up. Tell me!”
“How would I ever maintain my status as, ‘The only friend I can trust’,” Quinn mimicked the desperate tone in Analel’s earlier plea for help to a T, “if I run around betraying everyone else’s confidence to the first person who asks?”
“Fine. Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway. You remember what happened with Selese as far as being allowed to Prophecy for that particular Student in the future?”
“Can’t say that I do,” answered Quinn, lying.
“She was banned from ever Prophesying for him again, and the whole point of this, the reason why I’m asking you to risk yourself like this for me - and I do realize how big a risk you’re taking, Quinn, don’t think me unappreciative - is because I have a special connection with this Student like no other. I’m not sure if any Prophet has ever experienced something like this with an Academic before. I can’t risk that for a face to face, even if the boy happens to be cute.”
“Wait. Cute? You never said anything about cute?”
*****
With dinner starting, the only realistic window for Analel and Quinn’s plan to work was just beginning to open and the clock was already ticking for when it would soon close. They set off toward the Library going over their plan as they walked, speaking freely at first and taking comfort in the anonymity afforded them by the crowd of Prophets walking to and fro and generally going about their business.
However, as they approached the West Wing of the Prophecy where the Library was situated, things began to change. Traffic in the halls thinned out and an unspoken understanding passed between the two girls that had them simultaneously cease any and all conversation for the duration of their journey.
The West Wing was a quiet and sparsely populated section of the Prophecy. What little it held for Prophet Mothers it held even less for Prophet Children. Analel and Quinn did their best to make it through while avoiding potentially curious Mothers who might decide to stop them walking and start them answering questions. Fortunately, they managed to cover much of the distance without incident. Only one final bend now separated them from the Library. When Quinn ventured a peek around the corner, she was relieved to find nothing but an empty stretch of corridor awaiting their arrival. On the right, and at the halfway point, stood the entrance. Several meters further down the corridor cornered again, heading off in another direction and concealing whatever secrets lay ahead.
Quinn focused her attention on their current adversary, the Library door. Seeing it up close it was clear this was no ordinary slide panel. The Reader sitting atop its frame was projecting an unfamiliar Wave pattern to her, but she knew enough to understand that it would be a far more difficult puzzle to crack than the standard ubiquitous pattern projected by Readers found over every other entranceway and access point throughout the Prophecy. Only a seasoned Prophet Mother would be able to produce Wave Thoughts on the level necessary to open it. As such, the Library was fairly secure from unwanted visitors, and that included Prophet Children. Basically, it was exactly the situation Analel and Quinn had been expecting to find.
“Do you remember the plan?” asked Quinn, still hugging the corner and keeping her eyes fixed on the door.
“Yup.”
Quinn looked up at Analel disconcertedly. She needed to be sure Annie had her head in the game considering what they were up against and all that was buzzing around in that girl’s confused mind as of late. ‘Yup’ wasn’t exactly the sort of confidence building answer Quinn had been hoping for. “Let me hear it,” she asked.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously! I’m going out on a pretty big limb for you here, Annie!”
“OK, OK. Relax.”
Analel began to recite by rote, her eyes looking up and dancing from side to side in beat with the cadence of her voice, like a child repeating for the umpteenth time the instructions of an overly cautious parent.
“Every night at dinner the Mother Prophet serving as active librarian comes to pick up the Readers and Wave Cards needed for the evening’s Prophecy sessions. She brings them to the base of the Tower to be distributed by the Mentor Mothers to their respective groups of Prophesying Children. Whichever Mother is designated as the librarian for tonight’s shift should be coming around shortly to pick up today’s batch of Readers and Cards.”
“And what happens then?”
Analel sighed with annoyance but kept that as the full extent of her protest. “We wait till she opens the door. You distract her and lead her away while I slip inside. I switch the Reader set aside for the duel with my own and get out as fast as possible.”
“Good,” said Quinn, about as satisfied as she was going to get. “Now go wait behind that corner over there while I draw whoever-it-is’ attention back this way to give you your opening.”
“The things you do for me, Quinn,” said Analel just before skipping down the hallway and ducking behind the corner.
“Yes, but why do I do them?” Quinn asked under her breath. With Analel out of sight, Quinn waited another minute and then walked to the center of the corridor just opposite the entrance. She leaned on the adjacent wall and folded her arms across her chest. Not feeling very authentic, she unfolded them and let them drop loosely to her sides before picking them up and folding them again. Frustrated, she gave up.
This is ridiculous, she thought, feeling more out of place than she’d ever felt in her entire life. We’re going to get caught.
Second thoughts began to abound and Quinn was seriously considering going to fetch Analel to convince her to abandon the plan, when a Prophet Mother suddenly turned the corner from where she and Analel had come from and made her way over to the Library entrance. Great. No backing out of this now, thought Quinn.
The Mother had her hood pulled down low, concealing her face and preventing Quinn from being able to tell exactly who it was she and Analel were up against. Whether the Mother had noticed Quinn or not, Quinn could not tell. No overt indications were made to suggest one way or the other.
The Prophet Mother stood before the Library entrance with her back to Quinn and concentrated for a moment. The door slid opened - Quinn swallowed hard.
*****
“Excuse me? Excuse me, Mother? I’m so sorry to bother you but I could really use your help.”
The Prophet turned and removed her hood in one graceful motion. She was strikingly beautiful with long, straight, dark red hair, parted in the middle. Her complexion was a delicate white and her eyes were as rich and green as the Greenhouse’s forest canopy following a morning’s scheduled rain.
“What is it, Quinn?” she asked, her voice calm and soothing.
Standing around the corner and out
of sight, the Prophet Mother’s voice set off alarm bells in Analel’s head.
Mother?
“Mother Erin!” gushed Quinn with relief. “Oh, thank the Creator it’s you!”
Her fears confirmed, Analel’s heart sank. Erin wasn’t just any Prophet Mother, she was Analel’s actual mother. Unlike other Children at the Prophecy, Analel basically grew up as a Prophet from day one. Reconciling a mother/daughter relationship with the Mother/Child dynamic maintained by all Prophets at the Prophecy, entailed a never ending balancing act characterized by extreme levels of emotional dexterity that no one understood better than Grand Mother Shasah, daughter of the famed Professor Ren. And yet, Shasah had sanctioned the unprecedented arrangement all those years back, while Analel, being only a baby at the time, never had a say in the matter. Her infant frame was left shouldering fifty percent of the social baggage that came along with being a Child at the Prophecy whose mother happened to be a Prophet Mother there at the same time. As Analel grew, the burden grew in tandem.
Nevertheless, it all worked rather well on most days. Erin was one of the kindest and most patient Prophet Mothers in all the Prophecy and the hands down favorite of Quinn’s, along with most of the other Children. For her daughter, however, she might at times expect a bit more, which left Analel in somewhat of a precarious position at the moment, hiding behind a corner on the verge of breaking more rules than she’d ever broken in all her years at the Prophecy combined - hence the sinking heart.
Quinn’s reaction, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. In her mind, the chances of getting away with this stunt had suddenly gone from terribly unlikely to just plain unlikely.
“I’m sorry?” asked Erin, looking down at Quinn in confusion.
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