Chapter 30

"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."

34. Transformation

Odeon was right; he didn't get any sleep. He'd left Medart as soon as a messenger from the ship delivered the materials the Ranger had ordered, and spent the next few hours comparing the Traditional Catholic Bible with the one he knew so well, and studying their doctrines.

With the exception of a couple of name changes, the Final Coming, and the Third Aspect being the Holy Spirit instead of the Protector--and, of course, the accommodations the Systems Church had made for Enforcement and the Satyr Plague--the two were almost identical. Where they differed otherwise were matters of discipline, with the Systems version stricter. It was even possible, he told himself, that the Third Aspect used both names, and the Protector's appearance in the Systems didn't rule out Jeshua's Second Coming to the rest of the Empire. It did bother him that Jim had said the Protector was limited to the Systems, but he reminded himself yet again that a mortal could never truly understand the Mind of God; all he could do was accept.

It wouldn't be difficult for him to make the necessary adjustments, either, though he'd definitely have to see the Terran Pope if he decided to take up either of Jim's offers. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell him Pope Lucius' true identity, even though he was certain it wouldn't be believed. But it wouldn't hurt to tell him about having the Systems Pope's permission to celebrate Mass more than once a day, and find out what would be expected of a priest who was also a Ranger.

Odeon sighed when he got to that point. He'd managed to avoid facing the fact so far, but he couldn't put it off forever; by bringing his Family's welfare into the equation, Jim had made it impossible for him to turn the job down. He'd known that even then, he thought, but he hadn't wanted to accept it.

And he still didn't want to. He loved his Family too much to want to leave them, particularly when it would mean he'd no longer be able to love them. But as Jim had made him work out for himself, he could do them a lot more good in the upcoming war by leaving to take a high Imperial position than he could by staying. Dear God, but the prospect hurt, though!

He sighed again. For the first time in his career, he was reluctant to act on a decision as soon as he made it. This was the first one that would bring about major changes in his essential self, and that prospect frightened him. Even Shayan's mental surgery hadn't changed what he was; it had only given him a couple of new abilities--very minor ones, from what he'd read of Talent.

The memory of that surgery didn't help, either. Even though Shayan had assured him it could've been done painlessly and in seconds, he couldn't shake the association of mental changes with agonizing, prolonged pain and violation. As he'd told Sara, though, if someone needed his help as badly as she had, he didn't have any choice but to try giving it, even though he wasn't sure he could endure such surgery again.

That lack of choice was even more emphatic since the ones needing his help included his Family. He had to submit to that surgery, endure it to the best of his ability, and pray he'd have the strength to survive it.

Live or die, he thought grimly, he'd be losing those he deeply loved--and he wasn't sure whether he should indulge himself, tell them all goodbye, or if it would be better to just go ahead and do it. That decision could wait, though; he didn't want it to be obvious he hadn't slept or--yet--that he was bracing himself to leave. He had just about time to clean up and say Mass before he'd have to go in to breakfast.

* * * * *

Odeon removed his stole and kissed it, then folded it and put it in his tunic pocket. Saying Mass had helped more than he'd expected; he was feeling somewhere between resigned and serene when he went to the dining room for breakfast. He'd also decided or been guided, he wasn't sure, that since he was going to go, he might as well get it over with. Brief goodbyes after breakfast, then ask the Protector to make the necessary changes.

Fortunately for his peace of mind, he thought, the children weren't there--maybe deliberately, because the Family's expressions told him they knew something was going on. And, to his surprise, the new Protector was sitting between Joanie and Jim, his plate holding more food than Odeon would've thought reasonable for someone his size--if an Aspect of God had to eat at all. Still, Jeshua had . . .

As Odeon sat down and began filling his own plate, Keith chuckled. "As long as I'm in body," he said, "I do have to eat. And a Sandeman warrior has a pretty high metabolic rate, so I have to eat a lot. Yes, your Family knows what you've decided to do, and that you made that decision primarily to help them. They also know I won't hurt you in the slightest. We'll take care of it after breakfast, as you're thinking. All right?"

"As you will it, Lord."

Keith grinned. "Better start getting used to giving orders instead of taking them, Michael. Do you want just the abilities, or the mind-set as well?"

Odeon tried to return the smile, but was sure it came out more like the grimace he really felt. "I don't think you need to ask, Lord Protector. If I'm going to do it, I'll do it right; I'll take whatever you see fit to give me."

At that, he felt the other's approval. "So be it, Michael. You'll be a real asset to your--and your Family's--new home."

* * * * *

After breakfast, the entire group went to the common-room. Odeon said his goodbyes, embracing and kissing his Family head and spouses while tears ran down his face.

Medart watched sympathetically. Odeon's feelings of betrayal and uselessness might not have been enough to bring him to this point; protecting his Family to the best of his ability, even if it meant giving them up to do it, had done the job--something Medart had seen the previous night, though Odeon hadn't yet realized it. He regretted the man's present pain, but he was certain that once the Protector made the necessary changes, Mike would find he job every bit as challenging and satisfying as Medart himself did.

When Odeon was finished with his goodbyes, he turned to the Protector. "I'm ready. What do you want me to do?"

"Find a comfortable chair, and tell me whether you want to remain conscious for the procedure or not."

Odeon sat down in the nearest armchair, grateful to his Family for gathering around as the Protector stood in front of him. Medart held back, which made Odeon grin briefly. "You ought to be here too, Jim; I made the decision I did because you forced me to face the fact I could do my Family more good this way than I could any other."

"Decision?" Cortin asked sharply, as Medart joined the group. "The decision point was Mike's?"

Keith saved Medart from having to answer. "Yes. You all protected him by your certainty that the decision would be Joan's; now it's his turn to protect all of you." He turned to Odeon. "Which would you prefer?"

"Since you say it won't hurt, I'll take it straight. I don't think I could handle that kind of pain again."

Keith smiled. "You underestimate yourself, Michael; you are far stronger than you believe. The only part of your basic personality I'll need to modify at all is detaching you emotionally enough that you'll no longer have or form close personal ties that would affect a Ranger's necessary impartiality. The rest will be additions, or speeding up attitude changes you'd be going through anyway."

"I think that's a relief," Odeon said. "Let's take care of it, okay?"

"Okay."

* * * * *

Keith stepped back and smiled. "Done, Michael. You and James need to take care of some details, so we'll leave in a couple of minutes. I gave you everything a Ranger needs, in some cases more, and took care of a couple of your problems--such as removing your allergy to teaching tapes; you'll be able to use them now, and you'll need them. Your intelligence has doubled; you have and know how to use a powerful Talent that includes telepathy, mind-shield, teleportation, and materialization; and you have the other abilities and attitudes proper for a Ranger. I also removed the satyr virus from your body, so you're no longer contagious, a service I will perform for anyone else who leaves the Systems. I made only one overt physical change, since you've chosen the Traditional Church, which means you can't be my priest or devotee any longer. I've reset your biological clock to where it would be if you'd been selected in the usual manner, but to maintain it there, you'll have to go on anti-agathics; my powers, as James told you, don't extend beyond the Systems. Otherwise you look and feel exactly the same--but if you should need them, I've given you a complex of hidden changes, all of which will activate if any one of them is required. Again, with improvements." He smiled again. "You'll do well, Michael, both as Christ's priest and as a Ranger. Joan, you reached a decision yourself while I was working; you ought to tell them what it is."

Cortin looked from Medart to Odeon, then back. "If Mike thinks anything about the Empire is important enough that he'll give up Family Cortin for it, I'll trust his judgement; as sole negotiator for the Kingdom Systems, I am empowered to say the Systems will join the Empire. I ask that you give us all the help possible to reach the level of the rest of the Empire, and show us how to take our proper place in it."

"Gladly, Excellency, and welcome. We'll be happy to help our newest citizens. Do you need military support as well?"

"Familiarization and upgrading only," Keith said. "They have the basic tech level, with minor exceptions. Medical training and learning about the Empire are their primary needs, though other things will be needed as they gain the population base to support them."

"Right. Admin Service teachers and a couple of heavy destroyers ought to take care of those; anything else you'd recommend?"

"Not at this time, Ranger, though it might help if you could leave a detachment from the Lindner. I'm sure Colonel Cortin would provide them lodging, and Lucius and I will protect them from the Brotherhood."

"I'll see to it."

"We'll leave you to brief Mike, then."

"Thank you, Protector."

* * * * *

Once they were alone, Medart spent a few moments studying Odeon. "You do look the same, except for your hands." he said at last.

Odeon looked at his hands, which no longer had the blue circled triangles. That was a relief, now, not the terrible loss it would have been before his talk with Medart last night. "You heard him confirm that I'm still a Catholic priest, Jim. I would've thought that would violate the separation doctrine."