The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame

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The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame Page 25

by Sylvia Engdahl


  The one bright spot in the days after their return was the arrival of Skywalker. Everyone admired it and all the pilots wanted to fly it; Terry busied himself with taking them out one at a time as copilots. His intention was to train Mikaela Orlov, who was by now fully recovered, more intensively with the idea of making her its acting captain during his next trip to Earth. But he held off because Drew and Mikaela moved into a stateroom together and it appeared that Drew wouldn’t want to go to Earth again without her, which would mean giving command of Skywalker to Amir.

  All of Maclairn went into mourning for Corwin. Memorial services were held in every town; but attendance at the main one, the symbolic burial of his body in the lake, was limited to mentors, his personal friends, and his former trainees because there wasn’t room for more people on the beach and the terraces immediately above it. For several hours boats came back and forth, bringing them. Torches were lit not only by the water, but on every terrace, making a spectacular display of lights as seen from the lake. As he stepped off the dock Terry was nearly swamped by the emotion he perceived, the combined telepathic projection of the assembly’s sorrow.

  Because they’d been the last to see Corwin, Terry and Kathryn, like others close to him, had been asked to say something in remembrance. Kathryn recounted what he had said to them shortly before they parted: “‘What matters is not to be safe, but to be doing something worth doing whether we live or die while doing it.’ I think it would make a good epitaph,” she declared.

  Terry, who had talked to Jessica beforehand to get approval of the announcement he planned, spoke last. Taking the wireless mike from her he said, “Not long ago I led an expedition to the other planets of this solar system, and I was told that as captain of the first ship to land on the one we’ve called Three, it was my right to name it. I didn’t do so at that time because I felt it should be named after a Maclairnan—planets cannot be named after living persons and I was not familiar enough with Maclairn’s history to choose someone who had died. Now surely there can be no more appropriate name for a neighboring world than that of the first person to die for the cause of spreading the capabilities developed here to all humankind. I therefore name the third planet from this sun Corwin, and I will submit that name to Fleet to be recorded in its official atlas of the galaxy when the need for secrecy is past.”

  There was a murmur of approval from the gathered people, and the service moved on to its climax: the placing of floating candles from the boat that would have borne the body if there had been one. The emotion produced by the telepathic union of several hundred mourners intensified. Voices carried over the water in the traditional funeral song, reverberating from the canyon walls:

  May the radiance of candles we light now amidst our tears

  Fuel the rising flame within us to be passed on through the years.

  “It was sung at Ian Maclairn’s funeral on Undine,” Kathryn whispered to him, “and at every one since then. I’ve seen a vid of the first one held by the lake—that was for Ivana’s birth-mother Kira, who was the first person to die of old age on this world. This time is just the same.”

  As the candles on the water flickered and went out, the dock light flashed three times. Reluctantly Terry let go of Kathryn’s hand and went toward it; this was the signal he had been told to watch for. He and the few others present who were not Stewards of the Flame must leave now, for the Ritual they must not see was about to begin. Looking back at the array of torches that grew dimmer as the boat took him away, he realized that he did not want to go. It wasn’t just that he hated to be separated from Kathryn or break his telepathic tie with the assemblage of caring people. He wanted to share what they had, the conviction that what Maclairn aimed to do truly mattered, that he could make a difference to the future by taking part in it.

  What made him feel he wasn’t totally committed? he wondered. He was irrevocably committed to Kathryn, to the family they hoped to have, to Maclairn as the world that would always seem like home to him. He had vowed to defend it, and he wasn’t going to let the strong-arm tactics of its enemies scare him off. He believed wholeheartedly in the cause of giving new capabilities to humans everywhere. So what was holding him back from the full dedication the Ritual was supposed to symbolize?

  He knew in his heart what it was. He still imagined himself as an explorer of distant stars. What if Fleet promoted him again someday? What if they eventually transferred him to a major discovery or settlement team, or offered him command of a colonizer? Would he be willing to resign his commission rather than abandon Maclairn, even if Kathryn agreed to go with him? He had been told that being a Steward of the Flame would not mean he must stay on Maclairn forever; he would be free to make trips, even long-term ones. But its welfare and its cause would have to remain his top priority. He could not declare allegiance to some other world.

  Yet he had already given his allegiance, hadn’t he? As with his marriage to Kathryn, his choice had been made without conscious deliberation, and a ceremony wouldn’t make any difference.

  The next day he went to see Tristan. “You said once I might be allowed to be a Steward of the Flame,” he said.

  Tristan regarded him soberly. “Yes, if you truly desire it. It’s not a decision to be made lightly.”

  “My decision was made unconsciously, Tristan, and I couldn’t change it if I wanted to.”

  “That’s how it often happens. Okay, we’ll start preparing. As you know the Ritual involves some very advanced psi. I believe you’re up to it, but we need to practice some of what you’ve done in the past.”

  They had daily neurofeedback sessions throughout the next week, during which Terry’s skill in control over his body’s reactions and in pain management were confirmed along with his psi capabilities and his ability to self-heal. Various new stressors were added, until he demonstrated that he could maintain a mind-pattern, or even switch to a new one, regardless of shock or emotional turmoil.

  Tristan asked for the details about what had happened to his hand and examined it closely to verify that it was completely healed. When Terry mentioned that it had been badly burned in addition to the amputation of the fingers, Tristan was pleased to hear that this hadn’t unduly upset him. “If you were able to handle it without suffering from pain, that’s a good thing, because it’s closer to real-life situations than having fingers cut off. We can skip some of the more grueling lessons that are normally given during advanced training because you’ve already proven that your mind skills can protect you in an emergency.”

  At the end of the week Terry left for the first operational test of Skywalker, taking both Mikaela and Amir along with Drew and Zuri Kifeda. The new ship was great; being able to land it instead of having to leave it in orbit while using a shuttle simplified the job of checking sensor stations immensely. They visited Corwin and Four, but did not go as far as Five; nobody wanted to see Five-C again, and Captain Vargas had decided that the risks of placing stations on Five’s moons were unwarranted.

  Their last night out, Terry woke again with an undeniable sense of a nearby presence. God, he thought, this couldn’t be mere precognition—it was too insistent! There was no visual component to the perception, but unless there were weird space monsters around, it had to be a ship. He tried to laugh it off, telling himself he must have had some silly nightmare about space monsters that carried over into consciousness. But he was not prone to nightmares, and in any case a new and ominous thought had come to him—what if their League enemies had had a spy ship in the system all along? All their speculation about the unlikelihood of random explorers or smugglers arriving, and the impossibility of a ship staying in the vicinity instead of approaching Maclairn, were invalid if it was being intentionally spied on with the aim of detecting some vulnerability in Fleet’s warning system.

  Once back on Maclairn, he mentioned this thought to Tristan. “I don’t know what to say,” Tristan answered. “But unless you have real evidence, I wouldn’t alarm Captain Vargas. Psi i
mpressions can be false, and there isn’t anything you can do about an invisible ship anyway if it stays clear of the sensors that have been deployed.”

  The Ritual was scheduled for three days later. On the morning of the event Tristan told him something about what was coming. “Only five people will take an active part,” he said, “Jessica as presiding mentor, me as her backup, Kathryn as your sponsor, you, and a torchbearer. But the others present will be more than onlookers—they will be there to support you. What you will be asked to do would be impossible without the telepathic backing of the whole group.”

  “All my life I felt cut off from people,” Terry said slowly, “until the day Aldren told me I was telepathic. From then on everything changed for me. It’s fitting, I guess, for telepathy to be an important part of what Kathryn says will be another transformation.”

  “The point of the Ritual is connection with people,” Tristan agreed. “It’s a way of confirming not only that you’re sincere in your commitment, but that you have absolute trust in others with like aims—that you can rely on them and they on you. That’s one of the pledges you’ll make: to support them unconditionally, as they are already pledged to support every person who joins us. And it’s vital that you do trust them, Terry. You will face an ordeal that you cannot get through without drawing on their psi power as well as your own.”

  “What sort of an ordeal?” He had not realized that he would be formally tested.

  “We don’t tell you that ahead of time, except that it involves proving that mind powers can protect you from physical trauma and pain. In your case you’ve already proven it in tolerating the mutilation of your hand. But we will ask you to prove it again, even more dramatically.”

  “Will it be painful, then?”

  “Not unless you panic and lose the volitional control you’ve developed. If you do, you could get seriously hurt—but that won’t happen, because Jessica will probe your mind and she won’t proceed if she senses you’re vulnerable.”

  Terry frowned. Previously he had gotten the impression that it would be a wholly joyous occasion.

  Perceiving this thought, Tristan went on, “The Ritual is joyous, because you discover powers within yourself that you didn’t know you had, awesome powers that give you confidence in your own strength as well as your ability to connect with others. So as a full participant you’ll be both frightened and elated at the same time.”

  It hadn’t occurred to him to be frightened. What, he wondered, had he gotten himself into? Kathryn had come through it all right. . . .

  “Fear is a good thing,” Tristan said, “because like all primal emotion it increases psi power. That’s why we deliberately arouse it in preparation for the Ritual as well as in early mind training. So don’t be down on yourself if you feel it—you’re supposed to.” Smiling, he added, “But it’s not the only way to enhance telepathic sensitivity, so go spend the afternoon with Kathryn.”

  That he had been serious about the implication of this advice became apparent when Kathryn suggested spending the late afternoon in bed. After they made love, they remained there until it was time to dress for the Ritual, which was to be held early in the evening and followed by a celebration feast.

  “Terry,” Kathryn said, turning on her side to face him, “there’s a change in the plan for tonight. I was supposed to be your sponsor, but I can’t be—I’ve got to be torchbearer instead.”

  “Why?” he asked in astonishment. He’d been given to understand that the person closest to the initiate was always the sponsor. He’d counted on having her beside him.

  “Because no pregnant woman can be a full participant,” she said. “The stress might endanger the child.”

  It took him a moment to grasp what she was saying. “Pregnant woman? Kathryn, you’re—”

  “Yes,” she told him happily. “I’ve suspected it for several days, but we don’t have biochemical pregnancy tests here, you know, and I wasn’t going to mention it yet. Then this morning I remembered the rule about the Ritual, so I went to Jessica and she confirmed that I’m pregnant with a boy.”

  “Oh, Kathryn, that’s wonderful!” Terry said, hugging her. Then he asked, “What makes her think it’s a boy? Surely it’s too soon to tell.”

  “Jessica is a gifted healer,” Kathryn informed him, “and a healer’s perception reveals the sex of a child long before tests could. So we know I’m carrying our son Radnor.”

  “You’ve named him already?”

  “The founders’ dropped surnames were given to their children or their close friends’ children. If we have a second son we’ll call him Bram, but Radnor comes first—I wouldn’t think of naming him anything else, Terry.”

  A son. On the very day he was committing himself to a permanent tie with Maclairn. It was confirmation that he was doing the right thing, and his spirits soared.

  ~ 40 ~

  The Ritual was held in the great room of Jessica’s home, the one where the Council met and where Terry and Kathryn had slept on their wedding night. “That’s where it was held on Undine,” she said, “in the lodge this room is patterned after. Large gatherings like memorials are exceptions; a pledging involves far fewer people, different ones each time since a lot of young people are pledged every year. Only a few happen here in this room, of course—just those over which Jessica personally presides.”

  They showered and dressed in crisp white short-sleeved shirts—the color worn for the Ritual and only then—and joined the gathering. About fifty people had assembled, mostly mentors. Tristan and Merelda greeted Terry warmly and introduced those of the others whom he didn’t already know.

  “I’ll be your sponsor, since Kathryn can’t,” Tristan said. “Martin will take my place as Jessica’s backup.”

  “Martin’s a member of the Council, the one in charge of psi development,” Kathryn said. “You’ll be better off with him taking part, because I’m not nearly as strong a telepath.”

  “You’re totally telepathic with me,” Terry pointed out.

  “Yes, but I’ve only been a full participant once, and Martin has long experience. And I’ll be right there, after all, holding the torch.”

  The difference between this and full participation was a mystery to Terry, but he supposed he would soon be enlightened. The people circled around the central fireplace, standing where the floor cushions normally were and leaving a gap on the side opposite the windows. He and Tristan joined Jessica and Martin, forming a semicircle in the empty space. Kathryn, carrying an unlighted torch nearly as tall as her shoulder, stood in its center between Martin and Tristan, with Terry at one end facing Jessica at the other.

  Someone turned down both the music and the lights, and as the room hushed, Jessica embraced Terry. “Welcome to our circle, Terry,” she said softly, “and may God be with you in your pledging.” She stepped back and spoke to the group.

  “We’re gathered tonight as witnesses to Terry’s commitment to the cause of Maclairn,” Jessica said. “In the Ritual of his pledging we will renew our own commitment, remembering the time when we too faced the fire and for the first time felt its power to inspire our lives.”

  Was her reference to the fire literal or symbolic? Terry wondered. He recalled what Kathryn had said about it symbolizing something larger than their personal union, which made more sense than assuming that the particular fire beside which they stood was in any way inspiring. It seemed a bit odd that they were burning scarce wood when it was too early in the evening to need warmth.

  Jessica went on, summarizing the precepts on which the culture of Maclairn was based: primacy of mind over body; living free of fear; development of paranormal skills; telepathically-enhanced communication; and commitment to extending new capabilities throughout the worlds of humankind. “Although,” she said, “our hope of spreading our abilities through action is not the essence of our commitment. From the beginning, it has been said among us that simply being who we are—proving that it is possible for individuals to develop the
full potential of the mind, and to make use of it in our lives—is in itself of immense value, whether or not any overt social action is possible. This is our prime responsibility.

  “The wording of the Ritual has been the same since the time of the founders, who were united by opposition to the tyrannical medical laws of Undine,” she continued. “Since then we have been less focused on resistance to external pressure than they were, for we have not been facing danger or hardship. We have never changed it, for there is value in continuity with those who came before us. And now it seems that we who become stewards of the powers we know to be attainable by human minds again risk harm by hostile outsiders. You are the first in modern times to pledge under such conditions, Terry. That you do so in full knowledge of what confronts you is a reminder to us all of what our fellowship truly means.”

  She paused briefly, then pronounced the formal invocation: “In silence, let us commend ourselves to whatever Power we hold highest, each of us in our own way.”

  Terry was not an adherent of any formal religion, but he recognized this as a call for what by anyone’s definition might be called prayer. Were they all to face some sort of challenge? Suddenly apprehensive, he prayed that he would prove able to meet whatever was coming with composure.

  When the assembly stirred he raised his head just as Kathryn lifted the torch higher and, to his astonishment, it burst into flame. No one had lighted it—it was simply, apparently miraculously, blazing. In the next moment it dawned on him that Jessica had done this with psi, just as he and Tristan had once lighted candles. And then the candles held by the onlookers suddenly and simultaneously glowed with life, and he knew that this was the ultimate manifestation of the flame symbol that signified mind power.

  To Tristan, Jessica said, “Do you wish to sponsor Terry in his commitment to our cause, sharing the peril of his pledging, and do you believe him qualified to undertake this commitment safely?”

 

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