It wasn’t the same as he remembered. It lacked the brilliance that had shone through the dark hours of his exile. And yet he knew it had not changed; it was just that the eager young Fleet officer he’d been in those days no longer existed. What was that phrase he’d seen somewhere in reading, “You can’t go home again?” He still loved Maclairn, but whether or not he gained its people’s respect he could never again look at it quite the same way as before. He had traveled too far and seen too much.
They walked along the waterfront to the stone monument where the names of those consigned to the depths were listed—only a fraction of Maclairn’s dead after so many years, of course; now lake burial was reserved for those distinguished in some way. The entire first generation: Hari, for whom the lake was named; Anne; Kira; Jesse; Peter; Nadia . . . and later generations’ leaders: Kel; Ivana; Jessica; Arnam. . . . Corwin’s name, like Anne’s, was there though his remains were not—and so was Terry’s. When they thought he’d died they had placed it beneath the others. Long ago while on this beach, he’d had a precognitive flash in which he’d seen it, and now, though its inclusion was premature, he knew that this was where he would someday rest.
They sat on the pebbly ground beneath the trees and Terry put his arm around Kathryn’s shoulder, silently communicating his love for her. After a while he saw that she was crying. Kathryn, don’t grieve! he told her. No matter what happens, this is where I belong. My life here may not be perfect, nothing ever is—but I have you, and being back on the one world I care about is worth whatever price I have to pay . . . .
I’m not grieving, she told him. Well, I am, for the pain you may face, but mostly I’m crying because I’m happy—happy that we’re together again after I’d believed so long that you were gone.
They remained on the beach until the sun dropped below the steep cliffs on the opposite shore, then headed home to bathe and dress for the Ritual. White shirts—white was reserved for the Ritual on Maclairn—with one that had been Radnor’s provided for Terry by Kathryn. It was a strange feeling to be wearing his son’s shirt after the years of imagining him as a young boy, which awareness of time passing had never quite overcome.
The great room of Kenard’s house was crowded by the time they got there. The guests were mostly mentors, the only exceptions being the few spouses who weren’t mentors themselves. Terry thought of how he’d fled from the mentor Deion on New Afrika, fearing his memory of the Elders would be drawn from him—how ironic, when he now feared that out of fifty mentors, few if any would perceive its truth.
The lights and the music were turned down and people took their customary places, standing in a semicircle around the central fireplace. Kathryn was to fully participate, as she’d been unable to do at his first Ritual because she was pregnant with their son—such stress might endanger an unborn child. She and Terry joined Kenard, Devan, and two mentors he didn’t know on the opposite side of the fire. It was contrary to the normal makeup of a circle for any of the full participants to be strangers to each other, but Kathryn assured him they were among the most experienced and psychically adept of the current Maclairnans. Kenard had not cheated by bringing in someone who was less.
Terry swallowed; he knew he was taking a big risk, and not only with regard to being seen as deluded. It had been a hundred years since he’d placed his hand in fire. If he were to panic, he would be burned, and though the mentors could heal him quickly, all possibility of their probing his mind deeply would be lost. Participants in rapport too could be burned if a novice faltered; he felt troubled about exposing Kathryn to that possibility. Still, technically he was not a novice. He had been initiated as a Steward, and what he’d done once, he surely could do again.
Standing before the fire, anticipating the formal words that had echoed in his mind for the past century, Terry was aware that his entire life had been leading to this moment. This was the culmination of all he had hoped and striven for. Everything that had happened to him—his mind training, his commitment to Maclairn, his meeting with the Elders, his years of promoting belief in their mutual goal—had prepared him to serve as the herald of a new era in human history. Now that the hour had arrived, all worry ebbed away. Fate had been with him so far. If it was humankind’s destiny to join a larger fellowship, it surely wouldn’t permit him to fail.
“We are gathered tonight to celebrate Terry’s return to us,” Kenard began. “But there is a more pressing reason for the Ritual we are about to hold. You are all eager to hear the reason for his long absence, and there won’t be time to tell the details here and now. The essence of it, however, is something very hard to believe. There is no doubt that Terry’s account of what happened to him is an honest one, yet we of the Council feel his memory may have been clouded by some overwhelming experience he does not remember. He has asked that we probe his mind ritually, under conditions that preclude self-deception either on his part or on ours; this is his right as a Steward of the Flame. You must judge for yourselves, at the moment of full rapport, whether his recollections reflect truth.”
~ 73 ~
At Kenard’s nod, Terry stepped forward and said, “What I’m about to tell you will be astonishing, and it may sound like a fantastic delusion. I ask you to consider not just whether it happened, but what it means for the future. I have been away from Maclairn for a whole century, and I’ve always, through many kinds of experiences, been focused on our goal—the goal of moving humankind forward. When my life was spared after I’d nearly lost it, I took it as a sign that I had an obligation to spread belief in mind-powers throughout the colony worlds, and I became known as the Captain of Estel—”
This part of the story was undisputed; the Council members’ telepathic reassurance made that plain. Most of the listeners had not been told before and were awed to hear that the legendary Captain of Estel was not only real, but one of their own—they were well aware, from messages brought from Earth, of what Estel had accomplished.
“People believed in the rumors about Estel,” Terry continued, “because it gave them hope—hope that there’s more to life than just repeating what has gone before. More than the depressing routine of one day after another with nothing new to look forward to, the inertia that has robbed Earth and even the colonies of will to do more than simply exist. Isn’t that what the mentors have aimed for, too? Why you, and all before you on Maclairn, have believed developing new mind-powers is important to the future?”
They were responding to him now—and it was like the speeches he’d made before, first at his trial on Ciencia and later to countless groups on one world after another. Terry felt their minds draw on his and his words came from its depths, so that he did not know what he was going to say until he heard it.
“I’ve read a lot about Earth’s ancient history,” he went on, “so I know that there have been dark times before—times when the lack of exciting challenge led some to apathy and others to producing their own excitement through violence and destruction. The twenty-first century was like that. For awhile it looked as if there was nothing ahead but doom. In parts of the world there was suffering from oppression and poverty and war, and in more fortunate regions people were in despair because they were aware not only of those evils, but of the destruction of Earth’s environment and the depletion of the resources on which civilization depends. The majority were afraid underneath to see that the only answer lay in expansion into space, for space was unknown, different from everything humans had met before and perhaps full of terrors—just as people in our time have been afraid to accept the reality of psi.
“Well, eventually they woke up and did colonize space—if they hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here because humankind wouldn’t have survived. And the League eliminated war, and the collective unconscious absorbed the conception of the universe we have today. But after awhile there was no challenge left in it. You all know what happened; conditions on Earth began to decline again. Bureaucracy took over and people stopped bothering to demand freedom, just a
s they no longer bothered to improve their dreary surroundings. That’s less true in the colonies, but they’re headed for the same end, or at least they were until the challenging idea of mind-powers came along.
“We’ve nearly reached our goal now—those powers are being developed, and Earth’s collective unconscious has accepted them as real. That’s the step in human evolution Ian Maclairn envisioned. There’ll be new life in people, new desire to be free of government control, new impetus for pressing forward. Still, how long is that going to last? Have you ever asked yourselves what comes next?”
Terry paused and reached out silently to strengthen his rapport with his listeners; then he pushed on, preparing them for shock. “Our work has become routine—it’s not touch and go anymore, not dangerous. Some of you think we should soon go public, and others want to maintain our isolation; either way, it’s no longer an exciting challenge. So what now? The possession of mind-powers will help people stay healthy and live in harmony, but will that alone save civilization? And what have we to look forward to, except more of the same?”
They were jolted less by his words than by the underlying thought, which spread instantly among them. It had not occurred to them before. They had assumed the same goal, the one they had repeatedly affirmed in the Ritual, would always lie ahead.
“I never thought about this either,” Terry said. “I was focused on the original goal. But underneath I had a greater goal, for I knew what comes next. I knew because I was informed by the people in the strange ship I encountered the day I left Maclairn—people not of our human race.”
There were audible gasps, and the telepathic ambience shifted from dismay to incredulity. But with Terry’s next words, that faded. He was offering them a way out of the black hole into which they’d briefly fallen.
“My captors spoke of a universe larger than the one we’ve been living in, a universe full of alien worlds with their own people, their own civilizations, a multitude of worlds that will take centuries to learn about and explore. A challenge that will last virtually forever. At the time I didn’t recognize the implications, and I wasn’t permitted to reveal my knowledge because it was too soon. I was told that only after humankind possessed the ability to communicate telepathically could there be contact with those worlds and their inhabitants.
He drew a deep breath and declared, “But now I have seen them. I have been there, and I’ve come back to tell you that the time for contact is approaching—and that for Maclairn alone, it is already here.”
Shock rippled through the gathering, but the listeners’ rapport with Terry held steady. They had not yet grasped enough to feel apprehensive. He knew that it would be better to deal with underlying feelings frankly than to let them be repressed, so he said quickly, “New views of reality are always frightening. People of the twenty-first century feared moving out into space; people of ours feared gaining mind-powers; and we ourselves may not want to know that there are aliens. I’ve met them and they’re my friends, but some of you who haven’t may hesitate to believe in them. But are we not about to hold the Ritual, in which we pledge to go past fear? That’s one reason I chose to be judged at the Ritual—I don’t want anyone’s fears to cloud their perception.”
He sensed Kathryn’s acknowledgement and the chagrin of several Council members who had abruptly recognized their own reaction. Kenard’s mind was closed to sensing.
“One more thing,” Terry added. “The Flame we touch, the Flame we all wear, is a symbol of our commitment to the use of mind-powers, but in a larger sense it symbolizes the ongoing evolution of humankind. That is what we mean when we say it will illuminate future generations. That’s what it has always meant, what it meant to Ian Maclairn when he chose those words.
“Whether you judge my own experience true or illusory, keep in mind that worlds and peoples different from those we know must exist, for if they don’t, there is nowhere to go from here—no hope to inspire future generations. Someday if not now, humankind must encounter a new universe to explore, or civilization can only slide further downhill. Don’t let doubt about one man’s sanity rob you of that hope.”
After a few moments of quiet, Kenard came forward and pronounced the customary invocation: “In silence, let us commend ourselves to whatever Power we hold highest, each of us in our own way.”
Then Niall, the torchbearer, took his place among the full participants and lifted his unlit torch high. It burst into flame, seemingly of its own accord but lit by Kenard through the same psi power that Terry had used on Undine. The small candles of the onlookers, too, suddenly blossomed into a half-circle of glowing light that illumined their holders’ rapt faces.
At this point formal questions would normally be asked either of a candidate for initiation or of the assembly to be answered in unison. They had been modified, however, for this occasion.
To the group Kenard said, “Do you pledge to judge Terry honestly, determining to the best of your ability whether what you sense in his mind reflects truth or illusion?”
We do. Though a few spoke aloud, the strength of the response was telepathic.
“Will you honor your pledge to support fellow Stewards by offering him whatever aid is appropriate in the light of what you determine?”
We will. Would they decide he needed psychotherapy? Terry wondered. They wouldn’t force it on him; that would be contrary to the principles on which Maclairn had been founded. But they might try to persuade him.
“Bearing in mind the precepts of the Stewards of Flame, do you pledge not to let fear of what he has told us interfere with your judgment?”
We do. They meant it, insofar as their fear was conscious; but in some it might be deeply buried.
Turning to Terry, Kenard continued, “Terry, do you affirm that what you have said about your experiences is, to the best of your knowledge, literally true?”
“I do.” He spoke out firmly, at the same time projecting his sincerity.
“Do you consent to deep telepathic probing of your mind, by me and by others, for the purpose of judging the validity of your memories?”
“I do so gladly.”
“Are you willing to confirm your conviction by trusting the power of your mind to protect you from physical harm?”
“I am.” The mind of a person who was deluded would be conflicted, Terry realized, and might therefore be unable to focus on achieving immunity to fire. He hadn’t thought of it that way; he’d expected only that both his psi capability and theirs would be intensified by the stress of risk. Perhaps not being burned would in itself prove him sane.
Kenard’s probe, when it came, shook him to the core. As with Jessica, with Laesara, and with the Eldest, he sensed that all he had been or ever would be had risen to the surface, timeless and accessible; and he knew that Kenard was not the tradition-bound old man he had seemed, but a vital, psi-gifted leader whose outward show of caution belied the power and wisdom within him. Terry sensed, too, that the people assembled were drawing on that power and absorbing the knowledge Kenard channeled to them; through him, they were experiencing the memories raised by the probe and were finding them to be real.
The intense rapport faded; then as the music surged and Niall lowered the torch, thrusting it horizontally within their reach, Kenard began the traditional declarations:
“Unfaced fear is the destroyer. We will acknowledge fear and accept it, we will go past it and live free.
“We will trust the power of the mind over all restrictions, whether imposed from within or by the world outside.
“We will act always through volition, allowing neither internal nor external pressures to enslave us.
“We will support each other unfailingly in fulfilling this pledge.
“We believe that we are stewards of a flame that will illuminate future generations.
“And we now seal our commitment with the symbol of the mind’s power, which is fire.”
At these last words, he plunged his hand into the flame and witho
ut hesitation Terry thrust out his own to touch it, scarcely noticing when Kathryn and the three other full participants followed. Across the circle all the onlookers touched the flames of their candles, transmitting their own psi power to magnify the psi that was sustaining him. And in that moment, he perceived that no doubt remained in any of them. They had shared his memory of the Elders and knew that it was a true one, and that for them, as soon for everyone on Maclairn, nothing would ever be the same.
Mere seconds passed before the torch was lowered and he was staring dazedly at his unburned hand, overcome by the magnitude of what had happened to him—the climax of all that had happened during the century since he’d first touched fire. He was again one with Maclairn, as he had been on that night long ago, and in spirit at least, he felt no older than he had then—so much that mattered to him was yet to come.
One by one, Kathryn and his fellow-Stewards embraced him. “Your friends will be welcome here, Terry,” said Kenard. “We’ll be honored to have them among us.”
So throughout the rest of the evening, during the customary post-Ritual feast, the mentors drew knowledge of Ydoril from Terry’s mind. A day later, at the Council’s invitation, Liam took Estel to rendezvous with the Service ship that waited nearby; and he brought Gabriel Travis and several other Elders back with him. And Captain Aaronson was told that from now on Estel was under Maclairn’s jurisdiction and its shuttle must be allowed to land without inspection, for the presence of alien visitors must be hidden from Fleet.
Kenard sent word aboard Promise to the Maclairn Foundation, revealing the secret to be shared with the mentors on Earth. But the private message Kathryn and Terry enclosed for Radnor was longer and more detailed, containing the astonishing news that his father was alive and hoped that someday it would be possible for them to meet.
The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame Page 90