Chapter 018: Understanding

The Catholic Church is Mankind’s biggest religious organization, with up to one and a half trillion adherents among nine trillion inhabitants of Human Space. Despite being ‘merely’ an NGO-member of the Confederation, it is a de facto overlord of the Res Publica Christiana faction, with at least some influence in several other factions.

The Catholic Church (after ancient greek katholikos, meaning universal) is, in fact, not a church. It is a military and political alliance of Christian denominations, not dissimilar to the way the Confederation of Mankind works. It was forged during the Unification Wars when the onslaught of various extremists forced the conflicted religious hierarchies to fight together or die alone. Not all of them chose the first option.

The Catholic Church is composed of dozens of Christian denominations (among which the Roman Catholic Church is merely the biggest one). Each of them believes itself to be the truest one, as some things never change. The inner rivalry is, however, limited to sometimes furious debates and proselytism. All members are cooperating when it comes to defending their countries and opposing (preferably by conversion, but if not then conquest is always an option) the external enemies.

Close to half of the number of adherents live in the countries of the mainline Res Publica Christiana and the schismatic Conservative Bloc. The rest is divided between other factions, especially those religiously tolerant. There are reports of converts among several more human-like alien species, especially the scythes, berserks-successors, berserks-mimics, voca, and sidhe. The exact scale of this is unknown.

Encyclopedia Galactica

Book 2, page 102.

***

“Question: Are you sure that you want to know?” Innocent asked Christopher. “Be aware that you cannot unlearn the answer. Explorer’s Guild is proficient in making its members forget things. It’s a necessary part of its many masquerades. But it won’t work for this.”

I should ask him what he meant with that ‘forgetting’ thing. But not now. I have a more pressing issue in mind.

“I’d like to know the answer.” Let’s hope that curiosity won’t kill the cat.

“Question: Even if it would mean violating her privacy, as you’d be learning things about her she wants to forget?” Christopher understood what Innocent was trying to tell him.

Great. I guess curiosity isn’t THAT important.

“All right, all right, I get what you mean. If it’s like that, I think I’m ok with not knowing.” I still want to know, though. Though mostly because I want to understand what’s troubling her so much. But learning this against her obvious will would only make things worse.

“Reply: Good. I will tell you then.” Innocent answered, surprising Christopher. “My meta-empathy is ten times stronger than yours. I can read your emotions without you even noticing. I know that your decision to not find out the truth was genuine. I also know that your primary motivation for the contrary is because you want to understand and help her. Because of that, I believe that if you know the truth you will not abuse it, and it will be beneficial to her.”

I think he enjoys testing people. To be honest, sometimes it feels as if everyone is testing me. Though Innocent might be the first person to tell me the test result.

“And what about my privacy?” Christopher asked, raising an eyebrow. Innocent, after all, admitted to reading his mind. Right after he showed his displeasure towards Christopher reading someone’s mind.

“Answer: I’m this ship’s chaplain, psychologist, and de facto head of Captain Keller’s personal counterintelligence.” Innocent replied, listing his roles on his fingers. “Knowing what you think is my job. I find no pleasure in that, though. Also, I’m not using the knowledge I gain for my benefit and I purge it from my memory right after the person in question retires from the Guild or dies.”

Too bad I can’t verify any of the things he used as an explanation for his actions. All I know for certain is that he truly is a chaplain and psychologist, so two-thirds of one argument. The rest? Nothing.

“Regretful Answer: Meta-empathy is a very useful power… but not a very safe one.” Innocent spoke, with almost no connection to the earlier subject. Christopher quickly understood that the robot started answering his question about Kivanna. “The emotional feedback for negative emotions can be dangerous, especially once you get to a Supreme-level of this power. You managed to trip over it, though as an equivalent of a Flame you didn’t suffer that much of a backlash.”

“If that was not ‘that much of a backlash’, then I’m not sure if I want to know what’s the worst that can happen.” Christopher shook his head. He avoided vomiting and improvised a believable explanation of what happened to Nekia and Kivanna. But that was a close one.

“Comment: Yes, it’s better to not know. Or at least to not experience it yourself.” Innocent shrugged, refusing to comfort Christopher, whose meta-empathy had a fair chance of being trained into the Supreme-level. “Explanation: That’s why it’s imperative to learn as much as possible about the person with whose emotions you wish to meta-empathize. Or, at the very least, to not attempt to emotionally interface with people who seem to struggle with depression, are enraged, or are insane. Unless you are strong enough to impose your emotions on them. Then it’s useful for calming the enraged, showing the depressed how the world looks like and bringing the insane back to sanity.”

“So… Kivanna was depressed, and this influenced me?” Christopher said, with a hopeful look. Please, let it be just that.

“Answer: No.” Innocent trampled over Christopher’s hopes yet again “She is in the so-called outward adjustment state of rape trauma syndrome. Cue flashbacks, depression, and persistent fears which I believe you had the misfortune to interface with.”

That’s more or less what I puzzled from what I felt when I used the meta-empathy on her. I just hoped he would provide me with a different answer.

“So she was…” Christopher winced. I can’t even say it, the word just refuses to get out of my mouth.

“Question: You didn’t read or ask someone what sort of world Plesja is?” Christopher shook his head. “Reaction: I see. Let me enlighten you a bit. Once the Solar Commonwealth collapsed, the Unification Wars started. A hundred thousand warlords began tearing Human Space apart. Most of them dropped dead in the meantime, especially the most dysfunctional. Unfortunately, some dysfunctional warlords following dysfunctional ideologies somehow survived. I blame the Devil, to be honest.”

Christopher rolled his eyes internally. So, the ship’s psychologist blames issues of the Confederation on the Devil. Great.

“Continuation: the Corporate Alliance of Plesja is a de facto independent colony of one of such dysfunctional survivors.” Innocent didn’t stop there and continued his answer, ignoring Christopher’s disbelief which he most certainly had sensed. “It’s neither corporate nor an alliance. The closest description would be religious anarcho-communism. As for its religion… ever heard about Mazdakism?”

Christopher might have been a loner in his pre-time-travel life, but he had studied history. With decent grades, and the religious history of Mankind being among his interests. His skills were rusty, but he remembered the term once he thought about it for a while. This memory made his eye widen in shock.

Wait. No way. It’s the 28th Century! Such things aren’t supposed to happen in the far future!

“Religiously Intolerant Statement: The original Mazdakism was a Zoroastrian heresy whose prophet, Mazdak, preached an idiotic combination of altruism and hedonism.” Innocent left no doubts about his opinion on the subject. He also proved that a mechanical voice was no way of stopping you from sharing your disgust with the world. “His belief that the best way to make the world great was to abolish private property was, at worst, stupid. But he went too far when he included women in the list of goods owned communally.”

“I thought we still aren’t sure if that last part wasn’t just a malicious slander of contemporary Zoroastrian critics.” Christopher replied, trying to not think too hard about what he just heard.

“Disgust-ridden Answer: This didn’t stop Neomazdakists from going full throttle towards the moral event horizon. Things got even worse once they changed misogynism into a form of art.” Innocent continued. “Which makes the fact that Plesja is rising in the list of potential crusade targets even sweeter. Once Captain Keller gives the intelligence data about the subsector to some decent sector powers, we might even see the Alliance for the Preservation of Democracy jumping on the occasion. Both because it’s a good thing to do and because just wars against disgusting countries do wonders for mobilizing and unifying the electorate.”

Innocent paused for a few seconds before he spoke again. Christopher was too busy trying to process what he just heard to answer.

“Regretful Statement: I will not be there when the last member of the Plesjan government equivalent is stoned to death with the last piece of construction material from their last temple. But hearing that it happened will brighten my mood.”

Can you call someone a fanatic when you sort of agree with his opinion about his religious opponents? Seriously, if Plesja is as bad as he pictures it, then I can understand his dislike for it. I still hope that the ‘crusade’ and ‘stoning’ parts were some sort of exaggeration or metaphors.

Also, now I get why Ryan and Tendrik had that weird combination of pity and anger in their eyes when they were looking at Kivanna. They didn’t explain it to me, because... for some reason, everyone thinks I’m indulging in my urges and keep binge reading the ship’s databases. I could spend a hundred years doing nothing but reading! I do not know everything!

“Okay, so why are you telling me all of that?” Christopher crossed his arms. He has an agenda in violating medical secrecy. If that’s still a thing, that is.

“Answer: Because I see that you are trying to help your subordinates.” For Christopher, this came out of nowhere. “You already knew that something is wrong with Kivanna because of your emotional interface. There is a risk that you’d sort out what you felt on your own and either arrived at a wrong conclusion or tried to help her with the best intentions in mind… but make things worse. I prefer to avoid both outcomes, and ever since I concluded you to be trustworthy, a bit of honesty with you seems to be the best option.”

“So, what do you expect me to do?” Christopher held his palms open. I’m no therapist.

“Answer: To give her both space and support.” Innocent replied. “Have some patience, don’t push her in any direction, recognize the moments when she is down and give her some time to sort things out on her own. But try to not dote on her. Finding the middle ground between support and giving her space to recover with her own strength is crucial here. She is having a bit of a resurgence of her... issues following the Hastati battle, but I estimate that the clouds should part before we reach our current destination.”

“Can’t you just use the mindsculpt if it’s this bad?” Christopher heard about this ‘procedure’ being a panacea for mental problems. Save for cases of the madness brought by Hyperspace, as the cost of reverting them was too great to pay for most.

“Answer: No.” Christopher had expected that answer - if it was possible, Innocent would have done it already. “The only way to get rid of such a trauma permanently with a mindsculpt is to erase the memories of the act that caused said trauma together with it… as otherwise, it would return. This time together with various negative effects of a major discrepancy between memories and accompanying emotions. Besides, even if I could, I’d still not use it in this case.”

“Why?” The procedure was safe and very effective. Of course, it could also be used for brainwashing, which was the unpleasant side of its existence. One that was overused during the Unification Wars, especially by the extremists. Tendrik mentioned it once, but without going into details.

“Explanation: Psychologists and psychiatrists tend to consider it a panacea.” Innocent felt a bit… irritated. Though Christopher wasn’t sure how he guessed it. Was Innocent intentionally radiating his emotions? “Depression: mentalsculpt. Schizophrenia: mentalsculpt. Phobias: mentalsculpt. Weird sexual fetish: mentalsculpt. However, human minds grow by facing and defeating adversities. Mentalsculpts are useful as a reset button when someone breaks under the strain. But for someone who didn’t break, it’s counterproductive. Especially as you have permanent access to a skilled psychologist willing to help you find a way out of your issues.”

“And she didn’t break?” Christopher said, amazed. It looked like she had lots of issues.

“Answer: No. Despite a lifetime of abuse that would break most of our marines, she didn’t.” Innocent replied. “That’s willpower you rarely get to see. And one that would be a shame to take away from her. Besides, it was Kivanna herself who decided to not have her memories erased. I suspect that she sees such a procedure as a form of surrender. She is devoted to the idea of living with those memories if only as a last, final middle finger to the Plesjans she had a misfortune to know. Since said Plesjans made a mistake of saying ‘no’ to Captain Keller’s ‘we are taking her’ while he was accompanied by me and Lieutenant Commander Athalia, it will be a post-mortem middle finger to them.”

It took Christopher a second to figure out what Innocent meant. In a way, it was hilarious. Is Captain Keller killing someone on every planet he visits?!

Hearing that it was Kivanna’s decision elevated most issues Christopher had with her treatment. I should avoid sticking my nose into it.

He held up his hands in surrender. “All right, all right. I agree with you, I will do as you told me to with Kivanna.” Without talking about it with people who aren’t from my team. They seem to be aware of what Plesja is. “You’re one weird priest, aren’t you?”

“Religiously Intolerant Answer: If you wanted your space magic mentor to be more eastern in theme, that’s too bad. Rather than talking about ‘balance’ and ‘karma’, I’m much more interested in teaching you how to tear a slaver or pirate apart limb by limb with telekinesis. My religion is interesting in action. As St. Augustine once said: ‘Pray as if everything depended on God. Work as if everything depended on you.’ ” Innocent’s reply once again was rather peculiar. It was good that he was a priest rather than a diplomat. “Plus, of course, I plan to instruct you on how to recognize evil, so you won’t stray off the correct path. Because if you do, I will change from a mentor into an executioner.”

That sounded… spooky.

“Ending Note: I believe that killing Divines is a lot like celebrating a mass.” Christopher’s brow raised at this unexpected statement. “It gets easier the second time you do it.”

***

Three hours of exhausting telekinesis training later, Christopher returned to the quarters. Tiriel, Tendrik, and Ryan were gone, either sleeping or going to work. Kivanna was nowhere in sight. Rukh was there, laying on the couch and watching a film. About space marines.

Goddamn workaholic.

It was an unexpected sight. Rukh visited the quarters only to sleep. Christopher never saw the insides of his bedroom, but it was probably super austere. Unless Rukh was tinkering with weapons and had set up a miniature workshop in his room. It was certainly a possibility.

Well, I can at the very least take advantage of the occasion.

“How rare to see you here.” Christopher mentioned. Rukh turned his head towards Christopher. The petty officer had seen him a few times already, yet his visage never ceased to surprise him. Why did someone think it was an excellent idea to make some bizarre, furry human-wolf hybrid? And why didn’t he get sent to a mental asylum after proposing such a thing in public?

The whole point of both Humanity 2.5 (which created Variants) and Humanity 3.0 (which created Transhumans) projects still evaded him. Humans in the 28th Century were doing well. Why change them so much?

He could understand some Variants - at least those made to live in environments inhospitable for baseline Mankind, for example in high gravity. Transhumans like Mechanists or Virtuals made perfect sense, as cybernetic augmentation and mind upload had been Mankind’s dreams for quite a while and granted obvious benefits. Besides, the idea that future humanity would somehow refrain from altering their bodies with implants or merging themselves closer with computers was, frankly, foolish.

But the rest? Most of them felt as if they were made for aesthetic reasons. That’s where Christopher’s ability to understand ended. Not like he couldn’t understand body alteration for aesthetic reasons - it wasn’t his type of thing, but he could at least imagine it and was ok with it if it interested someone. Attaching functional cat ears to your body was similar to getting a tattoo, just more radical. But making a new subspecies, with differences going much deeper than the way they looked, with no utilitarian reason?

Was he changing into some purist slash human supremacist? At the very least he was still sane enough to know that Rukh wasn’t to blame here.

“Yes.” Rukh avoided cooperating. Which didn’t surprise Christopher at all. There was notable progress in Christopher’s attempts to socially rehabilitate the marine trainee. But it was far from over. “I’m waiting for something.”

That’s more than I thought he would say.

“For?” Christopher prompted. Rukh seemed uncomfortable with the talk. His first reaction to Christopher’s question was a lengthy silence. Then he (probably) remembered that the man asking is his superior, and he offered the bare minimum of an answer.

“Cookies.” Unfortunately, his answer failed to enlighten Christopher. Tiriel wasn’t in the kitchen, and he couldn’t think of anyone else in their team capable of doing something as sophisticated as cookies. At least not without causing a gas leakage, at least two explosions, and an enormous fire. “Victory cookies.”

He will not make it any easier, will he? How the hell am I supposed to get what he means if he is so goddamn mysterious about everything? Can’t he just NOT be a weirdo for once?

“Care to elaborate?” The look on Rukh’s face was more or less possible to read, even under the fur and with its wolfish build. Or, perhaps, Christopher began using meta-empathy unconsciously. Which, according to Innocent, was possible. “Ok, you know what? Have it your way. I’m not interested enough to spend the next three hours prying the explanation out of your head.”

The quarters’ doorbell rang. Christopher stood close to the entrance, so he turned around and opened them. He could hear Rukh rising from the couch in the background, from which he deduced that the doorbell signaled the ‘cookies’ arriving.

The guest had him frozen. In front of him stood two-and-a-half meters of smooth composite surfaces and hexagon-shaped ceramics, with its humanoid form compromised by the existence of four arms. Its face was visible through the glass, but it was only remotely human. It was two-dimensional and seemed to float behind the visor.

“Deeeliveryy.” The figure said, it’s voice sounding like the guest wasn’t sure if it wanted to sing or speak, so it went for a fusion of the two forms of communication. ”Sign here, pleaaaase.”

Is there someone normal left on this ship? Someone? Anyone?

Twenty seconds later Christopher was left in the quarters with Rukh and four packages. Two medium ones, one signed with his name and one with Rukh’s name. One smaller box signed ‘Tiriel’. And one big box signed ‘Recovery Team Eight’. Once he put them all on the table, he turned towards Rukh. The marine seemed torn between his desire to grab his package and the fact that Christopher was standing right next to it, which meant having to get close to someone.

“Care to elaborate now, please?” Christopher interrupted the silence. Now I’m curious.

“It’s… a martial tradition from Lieutenant Nowak’s world. Unless she is just pulling everyone’s legs.” Rukh answered. “Looking through the recordings and counting our achievements took her a while.”

Achievements? What?

Christopher opened his package. Its shape resembled a tube with the length of his hand. Inside were four compact packages, each of them a ten centimeters wide and three centimeters high cuboid made of plain gray paper.

He pulled out one of them. There was an inscription on the side of it, saying ‘Hastati Shieldbearer’. When he opened this small package, he found a cookie inside. This was enough to connect the dots.

They are celebrating kills with COOKIES?!

“Before you get angry for a reason I can’t understand, taste it.” Christopher decided that he can at least do so much to celebrate the first actual talk he had with Rukh.

A few seconds later he was desperately trying to get the remains of the cookie from his mouth, as it turned out to be the most bitter thing he ever tasted. Rukh was laughing in the background, with the sound resembling barking.

“You thought the cookie you get for killing a human being would be sweet?” Rukh grabbed one of his cookies. To Christopher’s amazement, he gobbled it up, though not without some resistance. “See? That’s how real men eat cookies.”

Oh no, you don’t!

Five minutes of indescribable torture and two cookies later, Christopher reached for the last cookie, curiously named ‘Nekia Sistonen’. Rukh was still struggling with the last of his cookies, his resolve wavering somewhere between third and fourth cookie.

“I don’t remember killing Nekia… urghh… Sistonen.” KEEP IT DOWN, DO NOT VOMIT. YOU’RE GONNA SHOW THAT ASSHOLE WHO IS THE MAN HERE.

“Yeah, that one… ugh…” For a few precious seconds, Christopher thought he won. But Rukh stopped himself from puking. “For saving someone. It should be… sweet.” Finally, he swallowed the one last cookie. Two seconds later he was running - fast - towards the toilets.

“Ha, fool.” Christopher commented and tasted the last cookie. It was, indeed, sweet. And tasty. Presented against a background of bitterness, it was twice as good as it would normally be.

“Having fun?” Christopher turned around towards the source of the voice. He found Tiriel standing in front of the entrance, with a small transport robot carrying several packages next to her. Most of them seemed to contain groceries and similar things.

“Uhm, how long were you there?” The edges of her mouth were trembling, as she was obviously trying to suppress the coming burst of laughter.

“I came in right around the time when you were starting your little measuring contest.” Her mocking tone made no doubts as to what she thought they were measuring. “It was so hilarious that I just couldn’t bring myself to interrupt you.” She added while coming closer to the table. Once she grabbed the small package addressed to her, she made one final comment. “Men are the same everywhere, aren’t they?”

“That’s quite a cruel thing to say.” Though I guess we earned it. Tiriel ate her cookie quickly. “How does it taste?”

“Like victory.” She replied. “Because I received it for preventing Tendrik from getting a reason for putting even more implants in himself. I see that as an absolute win.”

Yes, of course. Because we all know that’s what was on your mind when you were ready to leap towards him to save him while being under fire from at least two squads of veteran marines.

“Do you know what’s in that package?” Christopher pointed towards the one that was addressed to their team.

“Strong alcohol. Plus small cups. There is enough alcohol for seven toasts with every member of our team.” The happiness disappeared from her face. Christopher figured out why. Seven toasts. Seven dead soldiers of the squad that accompanied them. “During one of my basic combat training sessions with her, Lieutenant Nowak mentioned that they normally recount the life of the person in question before the toast, but we barely know anything about them, so... I guess it’ll be a silent remembrance.”

Damn it, now I hope that we will get some time off without further battles and casualties.

Seventy-two minutes and six seconds later, the Guild’s fleet led by Echo entered the Senla system.