Peculiar Soul

Chapter 15: Complementarity

Chapter 15: Complementarity

It has been my experience that men will readily accept that their mind shapes the manifestation of their soul, yet when I dare to suggest that the reverse might be true I am met with scorn, disbelief or even anger. I cannot bring myself to be irritated with them; the prospect of an involuntary change in ones consciousness is frightening - doubly so given the staggering array of methods by which such a thing has been known to happen.

In matters of the soul there is a different flavor than mere fear to their ire, however, and it is the sour note of betrayal. The relationship between man and soul is a deeply-personal attachment. There is often a sharp denial, an insistence that their soul could not impress itself upon them so.

Of course, such denials miss the point entirely. Consciousness is not a sculpture or a painting, where external modifications to the base material corrupt the original intent of the creator. Thinking of oneself as a static work of ones own will is a natural consequence of the limited and intimate perspective we enjoy into our own psyche.

Instead I posit that consciousness is an emergent phenomenon and that the self is much more quicksilver than iron. We are an illusory whole born of many inseparable influences. This is also a poorly-received idea in most cases. I do not see why; I have always found the notion liberating. I am not cold stone nor wrought metal. I am the breath of wind and the ripple of water, the fire dancing upward from the kindling of my flesh. How could I resent my soul for further stoking such a flame?

- Leire Gabarain, Annals of the Sixteenth Star, 691.

The sharp scent of ammonia clawed at Michaels nose. He jerked his head backwards by reflex only to find it immobilized. He experienced similar trouble with his arms and legs, and for a moment the suffocating panic of claustrophobia descended over him. His vision blurred, then cleared.

Spark stood over him with a capsule of smelling salts in his hand and an eager grin on his face. He stepped closer when he saw Michaels eyes open, leaning close over his face.

That was quite a reaction, Spark said. Can you describe how it felt?

Michael managed a slurred, croaking noise from his mouth, which felt as if it had been starched with the laundry. He worked his tongue around a few times and swallowed, then turned his gaze back towards Spark as best he could.

You killed him, Michael rasped.

There was a noise from the far end of the room; Michael was able to strain to see Claude closing the door behind him. Blood stained his hands and the cuffs of his shirt.

Spark looked at Claude for a moment, then turned back to Michael and sighed. Youre not going to be bothersome about the use of human subjects, are you? he asked. I get quite enough of that from the Assembly. Ensoulment is an inherently human phenomenon, after all. It isnt as though I can use rats or dogs in my work.

Michael bit back his reply. He had dreamt, briefly, but the shards of that dream were slipping away as his head cleared - and he found that his head was clearer now than it had been for the past day. Clear enough to slip past the feeling of bemused contentment imposed upon his mind and recognize the danger he was in. The fear that Sparks haze had kept from him began to trickle back along with the stark reality of his situation.

Ah, Spark said, raising an eyebrow. Thats fascinating. Claude, take a note - after the test, the subjects lucidity showed a marked increase. Fear, anger - much closer to the state we found him in. Havent the faintest idea about the mechanism, of course. He scratched at his head, then leaned over to grin at Michael. My boy, I dont know that Ive ever seen such an interesting soul.

The fear returned in full. Not only did Spark have him, he had known immediately when Michael regained some of his faculties. His upwelling hopelessness only seemed to make Spark more amused, however, as if he was watching an ant trapped under a glass.

Not that this development is without its complications, Spark said, straightening up. Ill have to ponder on what to do about it. I dont suppose you feel like sharing your recollection of the last test with me?

Michael supposed there was no reason to disguise his newly-recovered animosity, since Spark appeared to have figured it out anyway. I really dont, he said.

Rather uncharitable of you, Spark said, wagging a finger at him. If you profess to care about the life of the subjects then I should think youd be invested in maximizing the return from their death. Without your input, their sacrifice is wasted.

Sweat broke out on Michaels brow, a sick metallic tang in the back of his throat. Subjects? he asked. How many are you planning to kill?

Spark looked down at him inscrutably for a moment, then walked to the corner of the room. He returned in a moment with a chair, which he set down next to Michael. Once seated, he folded his hands in his lap and paused.

Do you know what it is that I do here, Michael? he asked.

Michael gave him a scathing look. Which part? he asked. The kidnapping, the murder? The experimentation on unwilling subjects?

Incidental, Spark said, waving his hand dismissively. And believe it or not, something I try to minimize. Im not out here to create human suffering. I dont enjoy causing pain. He raised his eyes to stare past Michael at nothing in particular. But pain exists. Suffering exists. And if we are to engage in research of the soul, then we must be prepared to do so across the gamut of human experience. Were you not suffering when you received your soul? From your file, you subjected yourself to years of torment in the hopes of acquiring it - and, now that you have it, you judge me for engaging in the same?

That was my choice, Michael said.

Was it? Spark asked. Ive read your Institute file. How tolerant would your father have been if you refused to participate? Would he have given you a place to rest and food to eat? Did he take time to make sure you understood him and his actions, to set your mind at ease over what must be? Or did he simply demand and threaten until he received compliance? He leaned in closer. Would you have survived saying no to him, do you think?

Michael saw his fathers face in the carriage for a moment, his face hardening at the mere thought of defiance - and then he shook his head, glaring up at Spark. You should set your standards higher, he said. It matters very little which of you two murderers is worse. If my fathers violence was more petty and aimless than yours, you have exceeded him by far in scope. How many people on this island chose to be here?

You might be surprised, Spark murmured, letting his fingers trace across the edge of the table. We receive many of our subjects from the front - voluntarily, I might add. Until you have seen the horror of war, the grinding brutality that reduces the land to ash and men to meat - and you have not seen it, Michael. There has been nothing in your life that comes close, not even what was done to you at the Institute. The man who died today was given the same choice that they all were. To return to the front and die meaninglessly, or to come here with me so that I might put an end to the War once and for all.

Is that what you told the man you killed? Michael asked. He seems to have died meaninglessly here instead. If you put so much stock in choice, then set me free.

A smile spread over Sparks face. Ah, my young friend. I would if I could, but you are unique in all the world - at least, such as I know. I asked you if you knew what it was that I researched here; I will tell you. He leaned closer to Michael, until his face loomed like the entirety of the world. I seek to free mankind from the shackles of chance and scarcity, he said. Souls are too important to be left to random allocation and haphazard use. I would see them understood, developed scientifically - and augmented in number, such that everyone may have their own.

Thats nonsense, Michael scoffed. Souls cannot be created or destroyed.

Ah, ah! Spark admonished him. Spoken like a maxim, but it is only so because nobody has yet succeeded in the task, nor understood the reasons why they failed. How many men concluded that felling a tree was impossible before the advent of the axe? That refining iron was impossible simply because they had not yet conceived of a proper furnace?

He leaned backward and gave Michael a sad smile. And so when they say creating new souls is impossible, my response has always been - yes, for now. Perhaps if there comes a day when we know all that there is to know about souls, someone might be justified in saying such a thing. But we are nowhere close. We make new discoveries every year, you are proof enough of that. So, my choice is a simple one: I may stagnate, or I may understand your soul.

A chill prickled over Michaels skin. I asked you how many people you would kill, he said. You never answered.

Spark looked at him and did not smile. No, he said. I believe I did.

This is Beni, Stefan said. The doctor told us to stay with you.

I see, Michael said. What else did he say?

Stefan shook his head. Just that. Were to stay with you wherever you go.

Wonderful. Michael looked between the two of them. Beni was still staring off into the distance, not reacting to Michaels movements. It reminded him of something - he scowled and focused on the memory, trying to narrow down where he had seen the mannerism before. A few seconds later, he had it - Sofia. He frowned.

Beni is a spector, he said. Stefans eyebrows rose, but after a moment he nodded. What are you? Michael asked.

Mule, Stefan replied. Im sorry, I can never remember the proper word for it

Durens, Michael said absently. So I cant hide from him, and I cant outrun you. Is that about the size of it?

Stefan looked hurt, and Michael realized his tone had been more than a little accusatory. He immediately felt horrible; these two were victims of Spark even more so than Michael himself.

The doctor just said to stay with you, Stefan said quietly. I dont know about anything else.

Michael shook his head. Its fine, Ive had a - very bad day, he said. Not your fault. He paused and looked between the two of them. Do you know the island well?

Beni does, Stefan replied. Hes been here longer than anyone I know.

I see. Michael managed to suppress a wince; no wonder the man wasnt talkative. How about you? How long have you been here?

Stefan pressed his lips together. A year, maybe. He traced his fingers over the scar on his cheek. I went to the field hospital for a shrapnel wound, they said I could redeploy here instead of going back to the front.

Do you like it here? Michael asked.

If Michael hadnt lived through it himself he would have missed the small pause in Stefans motions, the blank look that flitted across his face as his thoughts collapsed into a disorganized mess. Then it passed, and a smile pasted itself across his face.

Yes, Stefan said enthusiastically. I love it here.

Michael couldnt bring himself to smile in return. Instead, he looked at Beni. Stefan followed his gaze, then shook his head slowly.

Beni doesnt talk, he said. Lost his tongue.

Michael frowned. In the War? Forgive my saying so, but he looks Safid.

Another discontinuity rippled over Stefans face. I dont know where he lost it, he said. Hes Safid, but he was never in the War. Someone once said he was a ships lookout. A troubled look crept into Stefans eyes. Someone - I forget who told me. He clenched his fist, then opened it spasmodically. Muscles bunched in his neck, his eyes widening to show their bloodshot whites.

I forget, he hissed through clenched teeth. I-

Stefans eyes glazed over, and he smiled sheepishly at Michael. I forget a lot of things, these days.

It was hard for Michael to keep the horror from his face. This was the first time he had interacted with the white-shirts since becoming aware of Sparks meddling with his own mind, and seeing the telltale signs of it in anothers actions was extremely disquieting. He did not want to imagine what manner of place Stefans mind saw, when it contemplated itself.

He frowned. There was the thread of an idea there, if he could stitch it together. He closed his eyes to better focus on the truncated strands of memory that still drifted through his mind. A few drifted forward in response to his focus, he reached for them-

The door opened suddenly; Michaels focus shattered. He scowled at the intruder, then raised his eyebrows in surprise. Luc, he said. What are you doing here?

Luc smiled and shrugged. I saw the doctor not so long ago, he said you were finished helping him. He was worried you might get lost, said I should keep an eye on you.

I thought thats what these two were for, Michael said, looking at Stefan. He sent them here with the same instructions.

An amused look spread over Lucs face. You must take a lot of watching, yes? he said. I suppose he thinks itll take three of us.

Michael froze. Sparks voice echoed in his mind, the resigned tone of the last words he had said before leaving. Exhorting Michael to participate willingly, or else - I can afford the loss of three more subjects. Oh, Michael said quietly. Oh, damn you.

What was that? Luc said, frowning and walking over beside Michael.

Michael shook his head. Part of him wanted to tell the three men everything, to persuade them that Spark was using them all - but he knew that wouldnt work. Stefan and Beni likely couldnt think about disobeying Spark without consequences, and Luc loved the man like a father.

So instead Michael looked up and smiled at Luc. Nothing, he said, long years of practice keeping the emotion from bleeding into his voice. Im just very tired, and Id like to get outside for a bit.

Fair enough, Luc said. Anything you want to do?

Michaels smile became a bit more real. Im not sure, he said. Ill keep my eyes open and see if anything catches my interest.

Good man, Luc chuckled. Well figure something out. He looked up at the two white-shirts and beckoned them toward the door.

Michael followed suit, keeping a neutral look on his face. Luc was talking again, but his voice was not the one Michael heard. Jeorg had spoken in his dream about the horror of Sparks murders, told him to look at it clearly. To decide if it was something he could learn to live with, or-

His teeth grit, his fists clenched. No, not something he could learn to live with. Luc reached the outer door and pushed it open, the light catching on the small window set into the top. For a moment Michael saw a mirrored image of the world in its reflection, a twinned version of the sky and trees that glimmered in his vision a bit longer than it should have - and then it was past, and he followed the others outside.