Stewards of the Flame (33 page)

He was still high when they entered the Lodge, and not at all frightened. “You’ll get telepathic help from everyone,” Carla had told him. “And especially from Ian, because he’s
good
. He won’t let you come to harm.”

“Better than Peter, even?”

“Ian trained Peter. He originated most of our techniques.” She gave him a radiant smile. “Just follow his lead and don’t lose focus. You’re going to be fine.”

The tables in the common room had been pushed against the west windows to make space for a large assembly. Adorned with greenery, they were set buffet-style in preparation for the wedding feast. The floor cushions near the central fireplace had been taken up; the people were all standing. They were animated, even exhilarated, by the rousing music that filled the room—synthesized music, tracks Jesse hadn’t heard before. There was a beat to it that stirred his soul and made him want to soar.

Peter and Kira, in a corner away from the others, beckoned to Jesse; he and Carla joined them. “Reiko just phoned,” Kira said. “Ian was dressed and ready to come when she went to get him, but his legs were weak and he collapsed. He may live a few weeks longer, but he won’t leave his bed again.”

“I’m sorry,” Jesse said. “Look, we don’t have to have a feast tonight. Nobody will be in a mood for it.”

“We’re going ahead with the wedding feast,” Peter said. “There’s a crowd here that would be disappointed to have come for nothing—not to mention all the food that’s been prepared. We don’t look on approaching death from old age as cause for mourning, Jess, however deeply we grieve personally.”

“What do you mean, come for nothing?” Carla said. “The Ritual—”

“Can’t be held tonight without Ian,” Peter stated.

“We’ve been over this,” Kira declared. “He will never come again, Peter. He’ll be bedridden until he dies. You know what has to be done. Will you stand here and tell Jesse when he’s ready for commitment, worked up to it, that you lack the strength to fulfill your own responsibilities?”

Peter’s face was white. “I’m not prepared. No official appointment has been made, and since Reiko’s not here the Council can’t vote—”

“That’s a formality, and you know it. You have been Ian’s backup in every Ritual for the past five years; everyone’s aware of his wishes. You are his heir in every sense, not just the legal one. You’ve been carrying most of the leadership load anyway lately. There’s not a remote chance that the Council will choose anyone else.”

Jesse stared at him, puzzled. To shrink from a hard task was so unlike Peter that he wondered what he was misinterpreting.

“I can’t risk it,” Peter said stubbornly. “Not tonight, not with Jesse—”

“When, then, and with whom?” Carla demanded. “Jesse and I are married, Peter! Is he to come to the city, vulnerable to risk but uncommitted, without the pledged support of the Group and the empowerment you, and you alone, are fit to give him? Or are he and I to live apart while you work up courage to do what Ian has relied on you for?” She spoke angrily; Jesse had never seen her so upset.

Peter met her eyes, though his own were agonized. “No,” he conceded. “I must take this on now for Jesse’s sake—and for the Group’s, so that it won’t disintegrate when Ian dies. If you of all people can trust Jess to me—”

“I trust you as I’ve trusted Ian,” Carla declared. She turned to Jesse. “It’s pointless to ask whether you trust Peter,” she said, “because you wouldn’t be here without that. But in the Ritual, a deeper kind of trust is needed. You must believe not just in his sincerity but in his judgment and paranormal skill, and if either of you falters, you will—come to harm. Peter himself won’t be in danger. He is afraid only for you.”

“It’s up to me, then,” Jesse said. “We seem to be at a point where the future of the Group depends on whether we go ahead with this thing. I don’t know much about what it involves, but I understand command decisions. I am expendable, Peter. You are not. That’s all there is to it; we don’t really have a choice.”

“If I fail with you, we all lose—lose more than anyone but Ian yet suspects.”

“Then that’s the chance we both take. But if you withdraw we all lose, too, and it’s not a chance but a sure thing.”

“You’re right, of course,” Peter admitted. “We have to do it. Yet I’m endangering you by my fear—”

“Are you? From what you’ve told me, fear should facilitate whatever psi powers you have to use.”

“God,” Peter murmured. “You’re right there, too. Has it been so many years since I was truly afraid that I’d forgotten?”

“If so, Peter, you need this more than I do,” Jesse said. “Perhaps we’re talking about more than one empowerment here.”

Peter nodded slowly. “We’ll proceed as planned. Kira, you’re Jesse’s sponsor—”

Carla broke in, “I want to sponsor Jesse.”

“I’m not sure that’s wise,” Peter told her, frowning. “It’s been a long time for you, and considering what’s happened in the interim—”

“Jesse is my husband; it’s my right. And I want to renew my own commitment fully, not just with a candle.” To Jesse she added, “The last time I took an active part was when Ramón sponsored me. Peter is afraid I will be . . . distracted. But if my love for you isn’t stronger than old memories, how can I live up to the pledge?”

After a pause, Peter said with reluctance, “Okay. Risk increases power; love increases it still more. I’m not myself tonight—I spoke from my own self-doubt again.”

“It’s heavy responsibility, taking on two of unknown strength your first time presiding,” Kira agreed. “But you are up to it, Peter.”

“Will you be my backup, Kira?”

“Of course, if you wish, though Hari is better qualified.”

“You know Jesse better than Hari does; you’re already bonded with him. Hari’s set to be torchbearer.”

“All right, then; let’s get started.” She raised her voice, calling on people to assemble.

~
 
35
 
~

Everyone gathered around the fireplace, not in a ring as usual, but in a semicircle several rows deep. On the open side of it, across the fire from the others, a smaller semicircle was formed: Peter at one end, Kira next to him, then Carla and finally Jesse, spaced so that he was facing Peter. Their crisp white shirts gleamed against the dark backdrop of the wall behind them. It was the first time Jesse had seen anyone wear white at the Lodge. When he and Carla had dressed in the fresh clothes she’d produced, he had assumed she’d chosen white to symbolize their wedding. But Peter’s and Kira’s shirts, open-collared and short-sleeved, were identical to his own.

Candles, as yet unlighted, were distributed to the people, who were now hushed and expectant. Someone turned the lights and the music down to background level, so that the fire became the room’s focus and spoken words were clearly audible.

“Ian’s deepest wish was to be here,” Peter began, “but that has proved impossible. And so from this day forward we must carry on without him.” A murmur of sorrow spread through the listeners, then gave way to silence.

“We’re gathered tonight as witnesses to Jesse’s commitment to the Group,” Peter continued. “In the Ritual of his pledging we will renew our own commitment, remembering the time when we too faced the fire and for the first time felt its power to inspire our lives.”

Carla had told him the Lodge fire was symbolic, Jesse recalled. To him, it now meant their marriage, and she’d said others had similar memories. But people gathered around it every evening, laughing and joking, eating, singing bawdy songs as well as ballads. It was a symbol of fellowship, surely—of happiness and home—but he found it rather strange that the same symbol had been chosen for something as solemn as he’d understood the Ritual to be. It seemed more comforting than inspirational.

Peter spoke on, summarizing the precepts of the Group and its goal of proving that it was possible to live by them. To trust in the primacy of mind over body. To develop skills outsiders would call paranormal. To enjoy life without succumbing to worry or fear. To reject maintenance of brain-dead bodies in stasis as a travesty of life and to accept death in old age as natural, whether or not survival of the spirit might follow. . . .

Jesse had rarely heard this last idea mentioned in the Group. It was apparent, from the way Peter phrased his remarks, that members differed in their feelings on the issue, as was the case with all religious matters; and yet he sensed that majority felt existence continued in some way after death. Was that why it meant so much to them to keep the dead out of stasis? he wondered suddenly. Did they believe their spirits were entrapped as long as their bodies were maintained? Such a notion was oxymoronic, surely—spirit, if it existed, would by definition depart once life was gone. Still, glancing at Carla beside him, he shuddered at the thought of what her awareness of Ramón’s preserved body must be doing to her. It wasn’t a matter of logic. Her image of him could hardly be divided.

There was a short pause; then Peter concluded, “In silence, let’s commend ourselves to whatever Power we hold highest, each of us in our own way.” This did seem to be a time when you’d want to pray if you were so inclined, Jesse thought, suddenly apprehensive. For him, it was not quite prayer; he had never adhered to any formal religion. But he knew that he was about to be tested in some unimaginable way, a paranormal way, evidently, since no physical peril could arise in this setting. He’d been told he would be at risk, and that could mean only that they would do something to his mind—something so overwhelming that Peter feared he might come to harm. He appealed to whatever force might prevail in the universe to make him strong enough to withstand it.

After several minutes had passed, Hari—also wearing white—stepped forward on the opposite side of the fireplace, carrying a tall unlit torch. He plunged its head into the fire and then raised it, blazing. Turning, he extended it outward, and one by one the assembled people approached it to light their candles. Then he came around to the participants’ side and stood behind them, holding it aloft.

To Carla, Peter said, “Do you wish to sponsor Jesse in his commitment to the Group, sharing the peril of his pledging, and do you believe him qualified to undertake this commitment safely?”

In a clear voice Carla answered, “Yes, I do.”

Peter then addressed Jesse directly. “Do you accept Carla Francesco as your sponsor, knowing that her participation may increase your danger?”

“I’m happy to accept her.” But not happy to have her share the mysterious peril, he thought. Why would anything done to his mind affect her?

“So be it,” Peter continued. “Jesse Sanders, do you confirm the pledge you have made to keep everything you know, or may learn, of the Group and its activities secret from outsiders, now and forever, at whatever cost to yourself?”

“I do,” Jesse replied.

“Do you by your own free choice commit yourself to live by the precepts of the Group, as I have stated them?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Will you support fellow-members of the Group in all ways, even at the risk of your personal safety?’

“I will.” This meant more than he would have assumed before his introduction to telepathic sharing, he knew. He was pledging to support them not only by his actions, but, when occasion arose, through ESP.

“Do you believe that your mind has power over the well-being of your body, and that it can protect or heal you from sickness, injury and pain?”

“I do.”

“Jesse, are you willing to confirm your commitment by proving your trust in that power?”

“Yes, I am.” Had he not already proven it on several occasions? To ask for formal consent after the fact seemed rather anticlimactic. And yet he knew the climax of the Ritual was still to come.

There was another moment of silence in which Jesse sensed that Peter was probing him telepathically, far more deeply than in the past. It was not unpleasant. He was high; Carla was beside him and she was high too; and he felt at ease within this gathering of good friends. He was committed to them and to the promises he had made. The strong connection among them . . . the soft yet exalting music . . . the flicker of nearly two hundred candles beyond the fire . . . there was no past, no future, but only this moment, frozen in time forever. . . .

Hari lowered the torch he carried, thrusting its pole horizontally between Kira and Carla so that the flame, at waist level, was poised over the fire’s edge. Tension mounted among the watchers. Using words sanctified, Jesse guessed, by long tradition, Peter said:

“Unfaced fear is the destroyer. We will acknowledge fear and accept it, we will go past it and live free.

“We will trust the power of the mind over all restrictions, whether imposed from within or by the world outside.

“We will act always through volition, allowing neither internal nor external pressures to enslave us.

“We will support each other unfailingly in fulfilling this pledge.

“We believe that we are stewards of a flame that will illuminate future generations.

“And we now seal our commitment with the symbol of the mind’s power, which is fire.”

Across the semicircle, his face lit by the torchlight, Peter smiled encouragingly. His normal ebullience had returned. Jesse returned the smile, trusting him, unafraid now of whatever mental shock might be coming. He sensed that their telepathic link had become nearly as strong as his bond with Carla.

The torch blazed between them, so close Jesse could feel its heat. Then suddenly, incredibly, Peter stretched out his right hand and thrust it into the flame. He held it there, undamaged.

“Place your hand on mine, Jesse,” he said in a low, commanding voice.

For a second Jesse did not grasp what was meant. But Kira spoke quickly, also as a command. “Do it, Jesse. Now.”

Jesse knew that if he stopped to think, he could not do it, and that if he did not, that would mean leaving Carla, his friends, the Lodge—everything that now mattered to him. It would be a total repudiation of the Group he had come to believe in, the pledge he had just made. And even more, it would be a rejection of his own power, the thing in himself that during these last weeks had begun to fill the emptiness of too many years. Having tasted what it was to move beyond the merely human, he could not drop back. The free choice essential to that power had become no choice at all, for he knew that he would rather be physically burned than give up all that he truly valued.