The Alembic Plot Part 63

"We'll start with the basic point we agree fully on, then. There is one Creator of all the universes, right?"

"I only know of one universe, but other than that, yes."

"There are more. You'll have to take my word for now, but I'll give you proof later. Anyway, you believe the Creator is three beings in one, a belief I don't share. We do agree, though, that there are lesser supernatural beings. Right again?"

"The various kinds of angels and demons, yes."

"And the souls of those who've died?"

Odeon thought about that, then nodded slowly. "I suppose so, though I don't usually think of them that way."

"Even the saints, who work miracles?"

"G.o.d works the miracles through them," Odeon corrected. "Okay, I can go along with all of that."

"Good, because the next step is where you're going to get upset. Since everything ultimately comes from the Creator, including the power to work miracles, Omnists don't see any practical difference whether these lesser beings intercede, as you believe, and the Creator works the miracle directly, or He delegates the power and they work the actual miracle independently. Since demons in almost all theologies can work the negative equivalent of miracles, and I don't think it likely they'd ask the Creator's permission, I tend to the latter view."

Odeon didn't like that, but looked at from a purely logical viewpoint, he couldn't argue. It was for d.a.m.nsure Shayan could do things on that order. "Go on; I can handle it so far."

Medart smiled. "You're doing better than I expected. Maybe you won't blow up on me at this stage after all."

"I've heard a couple of Imperials swearing 'by the Creator and all the G.o.ds', so I can make a guess. I don't like it one little bit, but I'd say what we agree on as the lesser supernatural beings are what they mean by the last part of that phrase."

"Exactly right! The Omnist definition of a G.o.d is a being subordinate to the Creator who is the proximate cause of a miracle. It's not a judgement of good or bad; it's a simple term to distinguish those who work miracles from those who don't. And if the Creator chooses, He can grant a material being the powers and knowledge normally restricted to those on the supernatural plane. From what you tell me, He loaned Joanie those powers temporarily, and has just given them to Keith--maybe permanently."

"Umm." Odeon mulled that over for almost a full minute. That was a little better than the absolute betrayal he'd felt before, but not by much. "We were promised the Final Coming of G.o.d, and His Kingdom--not a human transformed into an embodied angel or saint."

Medart sighed. "Mike, I wish I could offer you what you really need, but that's the best I can do. If it's any consolation, I know and respect Sandemans very much; you couldn't get anyone better for a Protector than one of their warriors. The only change I can see necessary for him to function that way, besides enhancing his natural att.i.tudes and abilities, would be for him to be given a more open outlook s.e.xually."

"I think he's been given that; at least he undressed when we did, and said he'd take my place conducting his service. But--part of the protection is from sin. How can he do that when he doesn't even know what our sins are?"

"How do you know he doesn't, now? Giving him that information would hardly be beyond the Creator's power."

Odeon rubbed the back of his hand, studying the blue circled triangle on each. "Do you know what these mean?" he asked abruptly.

"No. I'm curious, but elsewhere it's one of the symbols of the Trinity, so I didn't think I should ask just yet."

"It is? Here it started out as the Brothers' symbol, and when you see it burned into someone's hands, it's a mark of their particular hatred.

When it's normal skin with a blue glow, like mine, it's the Protector's Seal--means the person with them has given up the ability to sin." He studied them for several more seconds. "Considering what I think about being tricked the way we have been, I'm a little surprised he hasn't taken these away."

"You're thinking standard human, not Sandeman warrior. I'm sure he thinks you're perfectly justified in feeling betrayed, since he's not what you were promised. While he can and will carry out the functions, since he accepted the position, and in Omnist terms has apparently become a G.o.d, he certainly isn't the Creator." Medart paused, wondering if this were the time to broach the subject of Odeon becoming a Ranger, or at least claiming his Imperial citizenship and moving to Terra. Before he could decide, Odeon solved that problem for him.

"Jim--can I ask you something?"

"Of course. I'll answer it as the private individual I am here, or as a Ranger, whichever you prefer."

"What's the difference?"

"As a private individual, I can take your feelings into consideration, and the answer doesn't have to be complete. As a Ranger, you get it all, with no shading. And I'll warn you in advance: most people don't ask us questions, because they don't have the first option and they know they probably won't like our professional answers."

Odeon managed a grin. He didn't mean it all the way, but Jim's response did deserve something. "At this point, I'm feeling like nothing can go right, and I don't know what to do about it. I've got to work something out, so you might as well give me the professional version."

"Okay. In that case, I'm going to give you one more out. Lucius told me something that makes me want--need, under our present circ.u.mstances--to get you into the Empire and a job that'll regularly get you into dangerously interesting situations."

"I'm Strike Force, Jim, even though I was taken off active duty four months ago because I'm Joanie's heir. Danger's normal for us; it's only by G.o.d's grace I survived my first year, much less made it to age thirty-seven. And right now, I've got to admit I wouldn't exert a lot of effort to avoid getting killed. What job are you talking about?"

"Let me get to it more gradually, okay?"

"Okay, if that's your professional opinion."

Medart chuckled. "It is--and that answer gives me a lot of hope.

Besides feeling betrayed, I'd bet that being relieved of active duty, and now having Keith take over your work with Joan, have you feeling useless as well. Am I right?"

Odeon nodded, reluctantly. "I've been trying to avoid thinking about that, but . . . yes, you're right. With Keith the Protector now, he probably won't be helping her the way I did--she probably won't need a helper any more, if he gives her the gifts the Herald was promised--and I didn't really like the work, but it was the only productive thing I was doing. Betrayal, uselessness--and I'm d.a.m.n close to losing all my faith."

Which sounded like it was tearing him apart, Medart thought. A lot of people, even a few Rangers, needed a religious faith to feel complete; it wouldn't be a violation of the separation doctrine to try and help him regain his. "Don't give up till you read the Traditional church's Bible and teachings, Mike. They might be just what you need."

"I hope so." Odeon hesitated, then decided to go on; as a police officer, he knew that having all the facts was essential to reaching a good decision, and he wanted the best Medart could manage. "The night I was Sealed to the Protector--Joanie then, of course--Jeshua appeared to me in a vision. One of the things he told me was that I'd be tested by pain and loss great enough I'd be seriously tempted to reject him.

I thought earlier that Shayan torturing me was that, but I was wrong.

This is, and I hate it. It's a horrible feeling."

"I can tell," Medart said sympathetically. "Hang on; let me have that material brought down right away instead of waiting till morning." He touched his throat, gave the necessary orders. "Okay, they'll be here in half an hour or so. Unfortunately, we don't have any Traditional Catholics aboard, or I'd have asked one to come down and talk to you."

"The Bible and outline should be enough, if it's going to work at all.

I have a funny feeling I'm going to be up all night reading and praying . . . Would you mind if we get back to the main subject?"

"Sure. I can't do much else about your feeling of betrayal, but I'm hoping to get rid of the useless feeling for you." Medart paused, smiled. "Even if you decide against the job I want you to take, if those feelings are strong enough that you feel you have to leave the Systems, all you need to do is claim your Imperial citizenship, then exercise your option to change your world of residence once at Imperial expense--in this case, aboard my ship."

"They're strong enough," Odeon said, "but I've still got a Family I love and responsibilities I can't just run away from. I'll claim citizenship, yes--the other, not unless you can persuade me the Empire has more of a claim on me than my Family and the Archduchy of High Teton do."

"I think I can manage that. Welcome to the Empire, Mike--I think you're the first Systems person to take that step officially. Now what's this about being Joan's heir, and an Archduchy? I don't remember anything about you being part of the n.o.bility."

"What?" Odeon frowned, thinking back over the past three weeks. "You know, I don't think the subject ever came up. Joanie's Archd.u.c.h.ess of High Teton, and she named me her heir, which makes me a Duke. Local n.o.bility only, of course."

"Of course," Medart agreed, pleased that Odeon was showing even that tiny trace of humor. "Shall I start calling you 'Excellency'?"

"I don't feel much like an Excellency at the moment. Just stick with Mike, please."

He'd better slow down, Medart told himself. Mike was good, but he wasn't Ranger-level yet, and if Medart screwed up, he never would be.

"Sorry; I was just trying to lighten things up a bit. If you decide to take the job, you won't be able to inherit. Is the succession set up?"

Odeon nodded. "If anything happens to me, Sis' baby would inherit, with her acting for him until he's of age."

"Good. No extra arrangements to make if you accept, then. Okay, Mike, let me talk you through working out what job I want you to take; you don't have the background to accept it if I just come out and ask."

"I asked for your professional help; we do it your way. I think I'm starting to see where you're going, though."

"I hope so; that'll make it easier for both of us. I know you've read about recent Imperial history, so you're aware of our losses during the Traiti war and the White Order rebellion."