Mortal Banshee

by Jonathon Magnus

  Evan huffed.

  Ranie said, “I find it hopeful that no one believes me, at least immediately. Perhaps I am wrong.”

  Finnur placed his hand on Ranie’s wrist. “Rainaria, I think Visor is the only one who understands what you are saying. I don’t doubt you. I’m just trying to understand.”

  Ranie looked away. “I would know because for me to believe the image, both the telepath and the illusionist involved would have to be smarter than I. It is about continuity and transition details, not simply strength of impression. It is inconceivable that someone could put together such an illusion.”

  Finnur said, “Okay. What if they had a team of vampires linked together, supporting a human telepath? And a team of pixies? Would they be able to work together like that?”

  Visor said, “The evidence is that all telepaths are at least pretty smart, so they’d be adding to that. Oracles, too.”

  Ranie said, “I seriously doubt it. It would be a weakest link situation. There would be some amount of effort sharing, though. Perhaps that could balance the equation. But how would all this be done in such a way that Guivan wouldn’t be suspicious? I suppose it’s not beyond the realm of possibility. It’s more likely than reality implosion, anyway.”

  Finnur said, “We could question Guivan as to the specifics of his viewing and see if the possibility of a team is excluded in some way. Did he have full view of the image? Was he allowed to handle the receptacle? Or maybe just the opposite—perhaps they limited his view point and there was a stage with trap doors and mirrors.”

  Evan took Ranie’s goblet. “I’ll be back.”

  Finnur took a drink. “What would it take to create a new receptacle and put a recorded image into it? I’m just thinking—even if Guivan excludes the possibility of a faked viewing, we may still not have closure. They could have planned the fake as we’ve discussed, but instead of showing it to Guivan live with mirrors and trap doors, they could have recorded it into a receptacle.”

  Visor said, “No one knows how to create them. At least none of our WaterCrescent alchemists figured it out.”

  “Where do they come from?”

  “They are passed around, or discovered. It’s got to be difficult to create something that stores information like a brain. That’s part of why they are so valuable. We know how to use them—a vardal to power them up and a telepath to read—but that’s about it. You need a pixie and particle field if you want to see it. They’re expensive and rare. That’s why we only associate them with the recording of Wescott’s predictions and not with casual messages between friends.”

  Finnur drew some lines in his journal. “But that could be it. It would be complex and expensive, but the timeline allows years for the Paragon to arrange this. Finnur looked over his notes. “On Visor’s coma, it could have been induced by any number of physiological causes—an infection, a physical impact. His loss of oracle ability, however, would be unprecedented as far as I know.”

  Visor said, “Unprecedented but explained, possibly. The condition of being an oracle—or telepath—is related to a part of our brain. We have crystalline structures called pseudo-conjoins, just like the conjoins of sirens and pixies. We are born with it, and it is completely integrated with our nervous system. Damage to my conjoin could have caused the loss of oracle ability. It could also explain the coma and memory loss.”

  Ranie felt the back of her head. “Now he’s going to want to dissect our brains.” Ranie held up a hand apologetically toward Finnur. “Sorry, I meant to kid. But Donnie, I can make the telepathic connection with you now.”

  Visor said, “Mercy recently discovered the damage to my conjoin and made a correction so that my oracle ability will work within her tower. It’s possible that jostling the connections for the oracle ability could also fix whatever was preventing our linking.”

  Finnur said, “When you say she ‘made a correction’, do you mean with surgery?”

  Visor said, “No it is more like she zapped the area with her fingers, like a vardal—or more like a vampire.”

  Rapture nodded emphatically. “It’s true. Her claws were on him.”

  Ranie said, “But you still don’t remember Pale Siren?”

  Visor shrugged. “Sorry, no.”

  Ranie said, “I see. Well, at least I exist, although delusional and disturbed.”

  “Restoring my conjoin wouldn’t necessarily restore any damaged portions of my brain. I could still be missing those memories.”

  “Do you really believe that to be the case?”

  Visor shrugged.

  Finnur said, “It is possible. We know little about how our brains process and store information, and nothing about how conjoins interact with them.”

  Ranie said, “The precise memories of Pale Siren? I appreciate the pandering, but I’ve burned out. That’s the simplest explanation. For me to be sane, a ludicrous set of happenstances would be required.”

  Visor asked, “You mean because of the intelligent design?”

  “Yes, with multiple elements. It’s either just me or multiple others.”

  “And the random convergence of intelligent designs is excluded by probability.”

  “There must be only one commonality—and it’s me.”

  “That is supposition.”

  “I am the only common intelligence.”

  “What about co-existence?”

  Chapter 56

  Dream Trap

  “What? Donnie, are you suggesting cognitive emergence?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s a myth.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I believe it’s a myth.”

  “Do you want to be insane?”

  “No, but the evidence is that I am. I used my brain too much, playing around.”

  Finnur said, “I don’t pretend to be up to speed on this conversation, but maybe it would help you two if you explained it to us.”

  Ranie crossed her arms and sat back. “Telepathic cognitive emergence–it is a theory about why telepaths eventually burn out. People who aren’t telepaths think that all the different memories and thought patterns overlap and form an intelligence of their own that lives inside the telepath.”

  Visor said, “I don’t think that. I was just suggesting it as a possibility.”

  “Well, it’s not.”

  Finnur said, “Rainaria, are you able to explain why it’s not?”

  “Ung.” Ranie smacked her hands to her head. “Telepathy, at least for humans, is just like talking. You talk to people all your life. It’s not like the conversations suddenly become little people in your head.”

  Finnur said, “Well, that makes sense to me. And I guess you already explained that. This is difficult for some of us to grasp.”

  Visor said, “What about that Janna Fermavent or whatever?”

  “I knew you were going to say that!” Ranie mashed her hands on her temples. “It’s Janice the Fervent and it’s totally different.”

  Finnur said, “I’m sorry to ask, but if we want to help, it would be best to pursue all angles.”

  Ranie said, “I know. As the myth goes, Janice, sometimes called Lady Jane, was a telepath in Vozvul. She married a doctorate of alchemy that specialized in the use of lucid dreaming to solve problems too complex for people to solve consciously. He called it constructive astral lucidity.”

  Finnur said, “It is believed that the unconscious mind works much faster than the conscious. The problem is that the work is misdirected and any progress is usually forgotten upon awakening.”

  “But theoretically, with a lucid dreamer and a telepath, the work could be directed. And the work could be shared with other lucid dreamers who could continue and build on the work. The story goes that Janice and her husband developed a method for linking together dozens of lucid dreamers. Eventually, the link itself took on a life of its own, a sort of astral cognitive e
mergence. Like any life, it needed to feed and grow, so it created a dream trap. Janice and all the dreamers were absorbed by the astral cognitive emergence, becoming mindless zombies.” Ranie rolled her eyes. “Her husband now wanders Vozvul seeking new minds to feed the emergence and keep Janice alive.”

  Finnur said, “That is absolutely fascinating. Is it possible?”

  Ranie sighed. “Well, I suppose it can’t be strictly excluded from the realm of possibility. There are some technical problems—the linking of dozens.”

  Visor said, “But that’s just a story problem. Technically, they could do it with multiple telepaths. Or they could have developed a machine—something like a Catalyst. Or it could just be an inaccuracy introduced by retelling. Perhaps there were dozens of dreamers, but they were linked in series, not parallel.”

  Finnur said, “And with sufficient subjects and research, they could have refined lucid dreaming techniques for better stability.”

  Ranie said, “As I said, ‘not outside the realm of possibility’. They formed a complex, stable structure in astral space. With sufficient complexity, the structure could have the ability to make decisions on its own.”

  Finnur asked, “Intelligent ones?”

  “Well, the definition of intelligent life is a fuzzier line than most people usually envision.” Visor said, “The critical point is self-awareness—the ability to choose. That’s when it can recognize threats to itself, and take actions to defend itself against those threats.”

  Ranie said, “The real threat is the point of singularity.”

  “Oh yeah, of course, for a wide scale threat.”

  Finnur asked, “The point of singularity?”

  Ranie said, “When it can grow and improve itself without outside help.”

  Visor said, “But that isn’t an issue here because the astral emergence requires a human subconscious to grow. It could possibly harm individual people connected to it, but not the whole population.”

  Ranie said, “If it controls zombies, and they force others onto the astral link, then it does have control.”

  Visor said, “But that’s not feasible—a bunch post lucid dream suggestion zombies walking around searching for brains? Like no would figure out what’s going on? And it’s not even the zombies searching; it’s the husband.”

  “And the emergent is controlling the husband.” Ranie was hiding a smile.

  Fine, he’d play along. “That’s not control by some emergent. That’s love by a human.”

  “It’s not even love, it’s—.”

  “Devotion,” said Rapture.

  Everyone looked at Rapture.

  Finnur said, “Let’s get back on point.”

  Ranie looked disappointed. “In seriousness, you can’t control someone’s conscious actions through dreams. You can affect their mood, maybe even condition in a bias, such as choosing a certain color of dress. But you’re not going to be able to make zombies that go out and perform complex tasks like successfully abducting people who don’t want to be abducted.”

  Visor said, “Regardless, the entire Janice myth doesn’t apply here.”

  Ranie said, “Agreed.”

  Finnur asked, “Where were we before Janice?”

  Visor said, “The Paragon created a receptacle and recorded the heterochromatic Pale Siren into it. And we could guess that all of the digging under the Silent Oratory was part of the deception. They pretended to find the original receptacle of Demise.”

  Rapture said, “And they sure dug everywhere.”

  Finnur sat up. “What do you mean?”

  “Vivian showed me a map the night I stayed in the Sanctuary. It was a map of the digging plans under the Oratory.”

  Visor said, “What did it say?”

  Rapture said, “What do you mean? It was a map.”

  “Did it indicate that they had finished digging? Had the found anything? What they were looking for?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t remember much about it. I didn’t think it would be important.”

  Finnur said, “But what did it look like? Was it scribbled on and marked up? Clean?”

  Rapture said, “Well, it was a brown paper. The writing was sirenic.”

  “What did it say?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Visor said, “Sirenic is not formally taught any more. In Xandria, most sirens don’t even know how to speak it. All new writing is in human.”

  Rapture said, “I know a few phrases—from songs, mostly.”

  “But she did see it,” said Finnur. “And I can read sirenic—not fluently, but enough to recognize words and phrases.”

  Visor said, “I see what you’re getting at, but it would lose some fidelity in the transfer through Ranie.”

  Finnur said, “Not if Ranie chain linked us.”

  Ranie said, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  Visor said, “Is it even safe with sirens?”

  Finnur said, “I don’t think race would matter. I would suppose that if the brains operated too differently, the link just wouldn’t work.”

  Ranie said, “Still—”

  Visor said, “Should we get Ursula in here in case something goes wrong?”

  Finnur shook his head. “She could make things worse. She’s still suffering from Talon’s abuse.”

  Visor said, “So, we get Sorana to watch her. And Athian—”

  “No.” Ranie tensed her hands in frustration. “It would be better to have fewer people around. I believe Professor Finnur is correct—at worst, the chain link won’t work. I don’t lose consciousness, and I can break the link at will. Anyone can break it by moving away. But chain telepathic linking isn’t the same as a group conversation. It can be a personal experience.”

  Finnur held up his hands defensively. “Oh, Ranie, if you feel uncomfortable, I don’t mean to be intrusive. I was just speaking scientifically. It’s fine. We can find another way to deal with this, or just let it rest for now.”

  Evan returned with a full goblet for Ranie.

  “I don’t mean to be prudish.” Ranie took the goblet. “I just want to make sure you are all aware of what this is going to be like. People are used to speaking, where you can pause whenever you want to find the right words. It is easy to avoid sharing information that you don’t want to.” She took a drink. “Sometimes when linked, people share things by accident, particularly between conjoins. It’s easy enough to just ignore those things when it’s the two of us. Once something is out there in group, it is out there.”

  Rapture said, “I see. So when we link with Don, we’re going to see all the girls naked.”

  Visor laughed. “I don’t know. I spend most of my time trying to forget horrific images from the coronation dance.” Visor turned to Ranie. “I don’t mean—”

  Ranie said, “We can usually control subject matter through verbal interchange, so concentrate on that if you feel yourself drifting.”

  Rapture asked, “What do you mean?”

  Visor said, “We continue talking while linked. As long as you think about what is being said, they won’t know about all the things you plan to do with me tonight.”

  Finnur said, “Aww, come on!”

  Rapture scoffed. “You can just enjoy yourself tonight. Wait, I mean—”

  Burke whined.

  Ranie giggled. “This is not helping.”

  Visor said, “Just keep your eyes closed and think about poker.”

  Chapter 57

  Linked

  Rapture finished her sweet juice and set the goblet down. “Sure, I’m ready.”

  Don sat to her right and Finnur to her left on the bench. Guivan sat tied to a chair with Sorana positioned behind him. Athian stood attentively behind Ranie.

  Ranie smiled at Rapture. “You can let go of the bench. It won’t hurt. It might reduce confusion if you close your eyes, though.”

  Rapture realized she was clenc
hing the bench so hard that her fingers were aching. She placed her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. Oh, Heiliger Mond, please, please don’t think anything stupid.

  “Just breathe, Rap. It’s fine. I promise there is nothing to be afraid of.” Ranie held her palm to Rapture’s temple. “Tell me about the map.”

  Rapture thought about it. “It was brown. I guess I already said that—sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “The writing was mostly in black. There was some red and green. The red was deep.” The picture in her mind became surprisingly stable. More details appeared. Those she was most sure about stayed, and those she was less sure about tended to fade in and out. She could feel Ranie in her mind, seeing what she was seeing, stabilizing the image while letting Rapture make changes.

  Ranie asked, “How big was the map?”

  “It was from here to here. The writing was sirenic, as I said. There was writing of different sizes. The largest words were up here, and looked like this.”

  Finnur said, “I’m still not seeing anything.”

  Ranie said, “It takes a few minutes to make the full connection with non-conjoins.”

  Finnur said, “I think I can tell you’re doing something in my head.”

  “Your brain is adjusting to interface with me. It’s safe. It’s exhausting, though.”

  “I can tell. Is this what court telepaths go through with each witness?”

  “Yes, with the regular humans—unless they’ve been linked with previously.”

  Finnur was in Rapture’s mind now, sharing the same image. “Is it possible that this word looked like this?” The letters of a word rearranged.

  “I really don’t remember. I’m sorry.”

  The letter continued to change as Finnur said, “Like this … like this?”

  “That’s it—with the umlaut.” Rapture surprised herself. Somehow, when she saw the right word, she was sure. Together, they eventually recreated a fairly detailed map. She felt it was accurate, though she couldn’t explain why if anyone asked.

  Finnur said, “If this map is true, it appears that the receptacle was found buried beneath the Oratory.”

  Don asked, “Then what does that mean? Instead of creating a receptacle, they just recorded over the original?”

  Ranie said, “That actually is more plausible.”

  Finnur left Rapture’s mind.

  “Yes.” Ranie put her other hand on Rapture’s face, then removed the original one.