Tranquility Lost Read online

  Deland turned and extended his arm to the woman. She took it, smiled at him almost joyfully, and together they stepped through the grand entrance of the manor house. Brother Charles took Tranquility’s arm and herded him after the younger Master. The older man spoke softly to Tranquility. “So, what do you think?”

  Tranquility recalled the people toiling in the muddy fields, like peasants in a historical drama, and the look of hopelessness on the fellow riding in the wagon. “I’m surprised at the primitive nature of the technology here. I think it means the people must struggle to keep food on the table, and provide even the barest of necessities. For them, it must be a hard life of drudgery.”

  “Yes,” Charles said. “For them I’m sure it is, though that’s partially our fault. We’ve kept the planet isolated until we were prepared to deal with the situation. But my question was really aimed at Brother Deland. What do you think of the Master?”

  Tranquility knew he could not hide his unease from the older man. “He’s quite young to be a Master.”

  Charles shook his head as they walked, and he spoke softly. “No. No, Tranquility. He’s not at all as young as he appears.”

  2

  Long Ago;

  The Beast Contained

  DELAND LED THEM to a large room where a group of about a dozen guests had already gathered. The men wore expensively tailored suits, while the women were attired in tightly fitting gowns that emphasized their physical attributes, exposing quite a bit of skin. Like Deland and the woman who clung to his arm so possessively, without exception they seemed flawless, as if painted by an artist with an eye for youth and beauty. Tranquility felt quite out of place in his drab initiate’s robes.

  Perhaps Deland sensed his thoughts, for he said, “You’re an attractive enough young man. It’s a shame to hide it in those dowdy robes.”

  He turned to his woman. “What do you think, Layla my dear?”

  She smiled and her eyes slowly examined Tranquility from his head to his toes. He felt his face flush at the way she looked at him. “I hadn’t thought about it, darling, but you’re right. He is handsome, and with the right attire would fit nicely among us.”

  “That settles it,” Deland said. “Tomorrow we’ll find some proper clothing for you.”

  When Tranquility recalled the rags the people in the fields wore, he felt no desire to emulate his host, though again, because of his very junior rank, he would have to accede to the older man’s wishes. He hoped Brother Charles could conclude his business with Deland soon so they could be off this planet.

  Deland lifted a long-stemmed glass containing some sort of chilled liquid, but he suddenly hesitated, looked at Tranquility, frowned and said, “Here I am about to propose a toast, and you’re without a drink.”

  Only then did Tranquility realize that everyone but him held a glass like that in Deland’s hand.

  Deland raised a hand, snapped his fingers and called sharply, “We need a glass of wine here.”

  A servant dressed in a white coat and carrying a silver tray of drinks scurried their way, his eyes downcast. He extended the tray toward Deland.

  “Not me, you fool,” Deland said. He pointed at Tranquility. “This young man here.”

  The servant turned and extended the tray to Tranquility. More out of politeness than any desire for drink, Tranquility reached out and took one of the glasses.

  The servant turned to leave, but Deland stopped him by saying, “Hold it right there.”

  The man turned back to Deland, his eyes still downcast. The liquid in the glasses that remained on his tray trembled slightly.

  Deland stood over the cringing servant and shook his head angrily. “I should not have to call you to see to it that one of my guests is served properly.”

  The man said, “Forgive me, Your Lordship.”

  “Forgive you?” Deland said. “You’re easily replaced. Report to Jenkin. Tell him you’re to be punished, and after that you’re to return to the fields.”

  The man pleaded. “Please, Your Lordship. I didn’t mean—”

  “Silence,” Deland shouted. “Don’t argue with me, you idiot. Now be gone with you.”

  The man scurried away. Deland turned back to his guests, smiled and raised his glass, and as he spoke Tranquility noted that the look of distaste on Charles’s face had deepened.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Deland said, his glass held high. “Let us welcome my dear friend Brother Superior Charles, and his initiate apprentice, Brother Tranquility.”

  “Here, here,” one of the men said. Another repeated the sentiment.

  As Deland engaged Charles in conversation about mutual acquaintances in the Order, Tranquility took the opportunity to slip into the background. A young couple approached him, and asked a few questions about the Order, though nothing impolite or untoward. While they spoke Tranquility noticed that he couldn’t get any of the servants to meet his eyes. He thought it likely they feared he had been the cause of the one servant’s punishment and dismissal, and didn’t want to suffer the same. But then he noticed they never raised their eyes to anyone. A short time later Deland and his guests sat down at a long banquet table to dine.

  Deland sat at the head of the table, with Layla seated at his right, and Charles on his left. Tranquility noticed there were exactly ten men and ten women, in alternate seats. As the evening progressed he quickly discerned the pairing of couples, and realized that next to him and Charles sat the only two unpaired women. The girl seated next to Tranquility couldn’t have been more than eighteen years of age. Her nut-brown hair ended at her shoulders, framing a beautiful oval face, marred only by the haunted look in her eyes. When he tried to draw her out, she seemed quite anxious to be cordial, but, like the servants, she had that look of fear in her eyes. Jenna was her name.

  “I’m quite lucky, you know,” she said, “for his lordship to have noticed me and taken me out of the fields.”

  Tranquility noticed that unlike the other women, her fingernails were cut to short stubs. They were clean and painted nicely, but he wondered if only a short time earlier they’d been darkened by the grime of the fields.

  He asked, “You used to work in the fields?”

  “Oh yes. We all do unless we qualify for higher service.”

  “And you address Brother Deland as his lordship?”

  “Of course. That’s the proper form, isn’t it?”

  As the evening progressed Tranquility learned that there were three casts in the social structure Deland had established on the planet: peasants who worked in the fields; a middle class of servants, managers, engineers and merchants; and finally the nobility who benefited from their hard work, like those seated at the table that night.

  “So Brother Deland has elevated you to the nobility?” Tranquility asked Jenna.

  “Oh no,” she said. “I’m here to serve, just like the others.”

  “You mean like the others here at the table with us?”

  “Oh no,” she said. “They’re the nobles. I would never aspire to that.”

  Tranquility was about to ask her, Why, then, was she seated at the table with all of the beautiful nobles? but at the other end of the table an angry shout from Charles interrupted them. “This is an abomination, and you know it full well.”

  A part of Tranquility had been aware that the tenor of the conversation between Charles and Deland had grown uncomfortably intense, and now all talk died. Deland smiled at Charles almost hungrily, and Tranquility got the impression that their host actually delighted in the outburst, as if the man sought open confrontation. Deland stood, and all the men and women at the table rose with him, as did Tranquility and Jenna. “I have offended my guest,” Deland said. “I do apologize for that, old friend, and I think it time we brought the evening’s festivities to a close.”

  ••••

  A servant in a white coat escorted Tranquility to a large bedroom where he found his luggage waiting for him. He unpacked, then pulled off his initiate’s robe
s, beneath which he wore a simple shirt and trousers. As he unbuttoned his shirt a soft knock at the door interrupted him. He opened the door and found Jenna standing there.

  “Jenna,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

  She looked into his face for a moment, then lowered her eyes shyly. “I just wanted to be sure that you have everything you need.”

  Seated beside her earlier at the table, he hadn’t really looked closely at her. She kept her hair shoulder length in a simple, attractive style. Her dress exposed her shoulders and was cut low enough to display a small bit of cleavage. The points of her nipples protruded visibly through the fabric, which probably meant she wore nothing beneath the dress, a very attractive and desirable young woman, to say the least.

  He smiled and said, “Thank you for your concern, but I want for nothing.”

  She stepped forward, forcing him to step back.

  “Are you certain?” she asked. “If there’s anything . . . anything at all . . . that you need . . . or desire, you merely have to ask.”

  Only a fool would not understand what she offered him. And had she been a bit older, or he a bit younger, and had her feigned attraction to him been genuine, he might have taken her up on it. But he suspected the need to please Deland motivated her far more than any desire she might feel for a junior member of the Order.

  “Thank you again,” he said, “but I have everything I need.”

  She frowned, glanced once over her shoulder at the open doorway, then before he could react, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him, and so startled him that he responded without thinking as her tongue probed and explored his mouth. While they kissed, she removed one hand from around his neck, reached down, gripped his wrist, lifted his hand and pressed it to her breast.

  Their lips parted and she said, “I want you.”

  She kissed him again, released his hand, left it on her breast and lowered her hand to his crotch. As she stroked him, he couldn’t help but respond, but then he recalled his earlier thoughts on her primary motivation and recovered his presence of mind. He gently pushed her away and stepped back a pace.

  “What’s wrong?” she demanded in a whisper. “Don’t you like me? Aren’t I pretty enough?” Tears formed in her eyes.

  “No, no. You’re quite attractive. You just took me by surprise.”

  Her face lit up with relief and she smiled. She stepped toward him, sliding the sleeves of her gown off her shoulders. “I’m yours for the night. And afterward if you want.”

  He grabbed her hands. “Stop that. I have no desire for this.”

  “Please,” she begged as he pushed her toward the open door. “You must make love to me. If you don’t he may send me back to the fields.”

  He recalled the workers he’d seen toiling in the fields, and the way their backs had bent as if life carried a heavy burden. But still, mere work in the fields shouldn’t generate such terror in a young girl. He pushed her gently toward the door. “I said I have no desire for this. I’m tired, and I’m going to get some sleep.”

  “Please, no,” she pleaded. “You can take me any way you wish, in the mouth, or as you would a young boy, if that is your preference. Please.”

  He hesitated at the fearful look on her face. If he pushed her out into the hall and closed the door, it would haunt him. Perhaps he could avoid the situation by lying and saying he preferred the company of young boys. But then he realized Deland would probably send a young boy to his room, and no doubt it would be an attractive young male from the fields. He could make love to her and enjoy himself, but her forced desire would bother him.

  “You can spend the night,” he said.

  She gasped a sigh of relief and dropped her gown completely to the floor, leaving her clothed in nothing but a tight-fitting chemise. She wrapped her arms around him again. “Oh thank you. Thank you.”

  She tried to kiss him, but before she could do so he touched her mind and put her into a mild trance. She calmed and lowered her hands to her sides.

  He stepped around her and closed the door.

  He would allow her to spend the night, sleeping on the bed beside him, but he wouldn’t touch her. The pretense should satisfy her master, but it occurred to him Deland might probe her in the morning and learn the truth. So into her mind he carefully inserted a false memory of the two of them making love. It wouldn’t fool Deland if he looked closely, but Tranquility doubted the man would bother to do so, and, in any case, the memory would fade with time. He’d have to perform some penance for violating the oaths of the Order that way, but having seen the fear in her eyes, he’d accept that as a small price to pay.

  He helped her lay down on the bed, then lay down beside her. The events of the evening disturbed him greatly, and he lay awake for some time before finding sleep.

  ••••

  In the morning Jenna woke Tranquility by rolling on top of him and showering him with kisses.

  “Last night was wonderful,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’d better go now,” he said. “I wouldn’t want Brother Charles to see you still here and learn of my indiscretion.”

  She gave him a perplexed look. “But Lord Deland has told us the order places no restrictions on its members’ sexual needs, as long as all parties involved are consenting adults.”

  “That is true,” Tranquility said, thinking quickly and deciding on a small lie. “But I’ve taken a vow of celibacy while accompanying Brother Charles. And I wouldn’t want him to learn that I’ve been so weak.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I understand. I’ll be discreet when I return tonight. I can return tonight, can’t I?”

  He smiled. “Of course.”

  ••••

  Deland had arranged a tour of the estate and the surrounding grounds. With Layla on his arm, and Jenkin, Charles and Tranquility in tow, he boasted of the productivity of his peasants, and the loyalty of his nobility. Standing at the edge of a large, muddy field, and watching the peasants bent over their work, Charles said, “They must truly love you.” The look on his face belied the sincerity of his words.

  “Love me!” Deland said. “No, the peasants fear me, and yearn to please me, which is all I desire of them. They’re like animals in that respect, easily trained with a combination of reward and punishment.”

  “No,” Charles said. “I meant your nobles.”

  “My nobles,” Deland said. “Yes, they do love me. In fact, they worship me.” He looked into Layla’s eyes, and she returned his gaze with longing desire.

  Charles nodded and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “Of course they worship you.”

  Tranquility thought there might be some hidden meaning in the older man’s words, but for the life of him he couldn’t fathom what.

  As the day progressed, the interactions between Charles and Deland grew visibly more strained, and Tranquility returned to his room that evening with growing trepidation. Again, Jenna knocked on his door, and again he admitted her and inserted a false memory of their love making. Then he lay down beside her and drifted into a restless and troubled sleep.

  It was the psychic turmoil that woke him abruptly from a sound sleep, and he knew Brother Charles was in trouble. He looked at his watch, a few hours before dawn. Tranquility threw on some pants and a shirt, stepped out into the hall and followed his sense of the growing mental storm.

  At that hour the halls of the manor were deserted. He followed the hallway to its end, then tracked the turmoil down a long flight of winding stairs to the ground floor. There, his senses led him along another hall, and as he walked, the sound of shouting voices grew steadily. He caught a word here and there, Brother Charles’s voice raised in an angry shout, “. . . sorcery of the worst . . . feed on other’s . . . preserve your . . .”

  Tranquility stopped at a set of tall double doors, and now he heard Brother Charles clearly. “And like an addict you must feed more frequently every day. How many lives and souls hav
e you consumed this year alone?”

  He heard Deland respond, “They are but cattle, old man. What matter a few of their lives when it preserves one of ours.”

  “Cattle?” Charles screamed. “Your appetites and those of others like you are destroying us. I’ll not stand by and allow you to continue.”

  “You don’t have the strength to stop me.”

  Tranquility sensed the battle a moment before it began, then came the strike, the counterstrike, mental and spiritual forces far beyond those of a young brother only recently raised beyond the robes of a novitiate. Glass shattered in the room beyond, followed by an anguished cry in Charles’s voice. Tranquility, though ill equipped for the task, knew he must protect Brother Charles at all costs. And with that thought he threw his shoulder against the doors, burst through them and stumbled clumsily into the room.

  Brother Deland held Charles by the throat, held him up with one hand, the old man’s feet dangling several inches off the floor. Charles struggled and kicked. Tranquility lunged forward to help, but Deland glanced his way contemptuously and laughed. Before Tranquility had taken two steps an invisible, god-like hand slapped him to the floor and he lost consciousness.

  He couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds, but when he awoke and struggled unsteadily to his feet, he found Brother Deland standing over the lifeless body of Charles. Faint trickles of blood leaked from Charles’s nose and ears. When Tranquility tried to walk, his legs were so unsteady he fell to his hands and knees, so he crawled across the room to Charles.

  “You fools,” Deland snarled, standing over them both. “We have the power to be immortal, and you throw life away so casually.”

  Tranquility felt for a pulse at Charles’s throat, but his old mentor lay still and lifeless.

  Deland continued to gloat. “And now you’ve brought me the one thing I needed: a ship to carry me off this god-forsaken mud-ball. And you’ll help me . . .”

  The gentle old man was dead.

  Tranquility could only think on that one thought as Deland stood over him and raged, and then some strange and inimical being turned inside him. Charles’s death had triggered something, and each time he thought about it he changed. He realized then that he’d been psych-blocked, and the block was crumbling. Deland continued to rant while the old man lay dead. Charles’s death had been the trigger to release the psych-block, and with each second Tranquility’s thoughts cleared.