"I understand."
"Okay. Bear in mind that I don't share your faith and ours uses
different terminology, so I'll have to do some more explaining, and you
may find that sacrilegious. Especially since you're a priest."
"I'm properly warned; go ahead."
"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?"
"God 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 damnsure 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
gods', 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 god 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 God, 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
attitudes and abilities, would be for him to be given a more open
outlook sexually."
"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 god, 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
circumstances--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 God'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 damn 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 nobility."
"What?" Odeon frowned, thinking back over the past three weeks. "You
know, I don't think the subject ever came up. Joanie's Archduchess of
High Teton, and she named me her heir, which makes me a Duke. Local
nobility 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."
"Uh-huh--specifically the four Rangers, if I'm reading you right."
"You are. I was incredibly fortunate to find Ranger Losinj during the
rebellion, but we're critically short even when we have the average of
ten, and right now we're down to seven."
"You want me to be number eight, I'd say. We both know I don't have
even the widely-known qualifications, and I can't believe you'd
consider for a second lowering the standards, so--" Odeon broke off.
"Who's supposed to make the changes? If it's Shayan, forget it!"
"He told me about it, but it's the Protector who'll make you
Ranger-level, if you agree to the changes. Including the mind-set we
have to have, but again, only if you agree."
"That's a tremendous offer, Jim, and I can't deny it'd be a useful and
satisfying job--but I can't give you an answer just yet. First I've
got to work out my spiritual problem, and decide whether or not I'd be
willing to leave my family even for something like that."
"I can't do anything for you about the first, but maybe I can ease your
concern about the latter a bit. The one who mind-visited me said he
gave Family Cortin some of the same information he gave me; did that
include anything about an upcoming invasion I'm not going to be allowed
to warn the Empire about?"
"He didn't mention that part, but yeah, a super-nasty one. Why?"
Medart chuckled. "You don't need me to answer that; you can do it for
yourself, but I'll give you a hint if you want."
Odeon thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Don't bother. It's
pretty clear that someone who can command fleets would have a lot more
effect against invaders than a Strike Force officer who's been ordered
off active duty. Which means I could do more for the people I love by
leaving them than I could by staying with them." He paused, then shook
his head. "And that hurts too--especially since one of the public
things is that Rangers don't have any close personal ties, so if I take
the job, I won't even love them any more. Will I?"
Medart hesitated, but he couldn't either lie or refuse to answer. "No,
you won't. That's an emotion I've never had, other than maybe for the
Empire as a whole. Liking and respect for individuals, yes--love, no."
"And I won't miss it. I think that may be the worst." Odeon sighed.
"But you hit me in my vulnerable spot, Jim, and I think you know it.
I've spent my entire adult life doing my damndest to protect and help
people; if I can get past my spiritual problem, I'm going to have to
accept the job."
"If it's any consolation, none of us asked for the job, or particularly
wanted it--my own plans were to go through the Academy, have a Naval
career, and then retire to Herbert's World with a cattle ranch. Every
one of us, Corina included, took it on out of a sense of obligation."