SCENE EIGHT Another 'treatment room' behind the main ward
"Wees no wants mores of gayms plees, Weemee Dweewest. Wees no wants more of gayms, plees1" The child-self known to his brothers as Saddest wept and bit his lower lip as two rough, silent strangers dumped him onto another cot and bound him to it.
"You will cease that childish lisping and wailing at once, Torry!" Gideon Boudin ordered his prisoner, James West, when he had the young blind man moved to another of the small rooms adjoining the main ward. 'those annoying Federal nuisances who thought they could keep me from you are busily playing hide and seek even now. We must finish this part of your Memory Work as Stephan surely would term it, were he still in the living world with us.
And we will have to find the appropriate time to work on your memories of my old friend Stephan, Torry. You have forgotten a great deal, if not everything you ever knew about our "Herr Professor Doctor Stephan Johannes Aynsley of Vienna, Zurich, Atlanta and Baltimore. As of now you don't even remember poor, mad little Liesl, his darling lunatic niece, I'd warrant. And I believe you were becoming quite fascinated with her, insane as she was. Obey me, boy. Lie still and be utterly silent!"
The brother-self known as JimmyR emerged as the child shook his head, and immediately lay on the cot as if at full attention, somehow holding even his restless blind green gaze still for half a minute.
"That is correct." Boudin noted. "Now we can proceed. And as we told you, we are on a strictly limited schedule for this review of your Lessons. We cannot even think of continuing, however if you cannot maintain a properly deferential, mature demeanor. So, you will maintain some semblance of a trueborn Southron gentleman's dignity thorughout the remainder of our sessions, will you not, Torry? Why are you shaking your head at me, young sir?"
"I only meant to indicate … I'm sorry, Sir. I will maintain the proper demeanor throughout my Lessons." the next brother in this particular group of four, known as Richman's Grandson or "RG" answered. "I'm afraid I lost some measure of concentration, Sir. I apologize for that, Sir, if you will please accept it."
"For the present, we shall." Boudin frowned. "Now, recite for us what you've recalled as regards the third level of our old Lessons. Now, Torry. Do not keep us waiting."
"No, of course not, Sir." 'rG" responded in full cadet-mode, fighting the shivering that ran through his whole frame now. "We next began to work on the concept of a true gentleman's privacy, Sir, and how vital that is, Sir. We added to that Lessons on the proper bearing and genuine modesty, not to be mistaken for false humilitity, expected of a trueborn Southron gentleman, Sir. We went on to Lessons regarding the philosophy by which a Southron gentleman must live his life, Sir.
True Respect, True Southron Courtesy to onc's peers, if one should happen to encounter one's true peers, Sir is one of the foundation stones of that philosophy. And so is a reasonable Pride in one's advanced station and one's heritage, one's family, Sir. Open Beneficence to one's underlings, servants and menials is the mark of a True Southron also, Sir, as is Constant Compassion for those who cannot help the lower stations in life they were born to…"
"But those are not the truly profound Lessons on True Southron Gentility we gave you, Torry. We will hear those now." Boudin demanded. "Well, we are waiting."
"Yes, Sir. A True Southron Gentleman can be remarked for his evident sense of Noblesse Oblige, Sir. But that is only the entrée as it were, Sir, to the sensitive, cultured, genuinely enlightened aristocratic nature of the Trueborn Southron Gentleman, Sir. A true Southron Gentleman, Sir, is a thoroughbred, Sir, high strung, finely conformed, patrician and high minded in all manners and all matters. That being the case, Sir, the True Southron Gentleman is always keenly aware of the presence of these finely bred qualities in those around him, and even more keenly aware of the lack thereof among the masses.
Therefore, the Southron Gentleman seeks out and cultivates those qualities in his every associate, friend and companion. The Southron Gentleman avoids at all times the rude, the coarse, the plebeian, Sir. And the trueborn Southron Gentleman has no contact whatever, aside from his role as a charitable example, with the lower classes which seek to usurp his proper place in Finance, at Law, in Government, in Society and the World, Sir. And it was your search for those finest qualities in your fellow Southron that brought me to your attention, Sir. You were good enough to do what you could to properly train and teach me as you yourself were taught to live and think and act, Sir. And I am forever grateful, of course for your tutelage, your support, and, and … your … your … friendship… your…" The brother began to shake, shaking and turning his head from side to side now, as if looking for someone, despite his blindness.
"Torry, whatever are you hesitating for?" Boudin asked, glaring at his prisoner. "Torry! What can be the matter with you, boy? Answer us, at once young sir!"
"… Your friendship…" the brother self known as ReckleSs murmured, emerging as his counterpart shook his head and left the scene. He was abruptly, due to plain exhaustion mostly caught up in an entirely different place and time, Jim's meeting with Ulysses Grant, more than three years earlier.
"… unless it was… unless it… Sir, I serve at the pleasure of the President. And I will… gladly… I will gladly do so… to my … to my last breath.... if I'm … I … don't… Sir… what that's meant to… to me… And nothing, nothing in my life… honored me … honored me more… your call … to service… unless… it was your… your friendship… Sir, …please…"
"Be Silent!" Boudin ordered as if he were furious. The man on the cot snapped to attention, as well as his restraints would let him and lay as if paralyzed. Boudin was secretly pleased, in fact, to find even these shards of Stephan's patterning still extant. "That is better. We will have to end this session shortly, as it seems as you are not up to the work, Torry. So heed us now and heed us well, sought to give you the same precious training we received in all the manners, mores and matters pertaining to the proper ways of a True Southron Gentleman. We did all we could to bring you to our level. We will be most profoundly disillusioned and disappointed, Torry, if you fail us at this final juncture. Therefore you will listen to every word we say and burn them into your weary mind, boy. And when we demand it, you will recite every word back to us, word for word as you have learned it.
A Trueborn Southron in this wicked modern world of ours must do all he can to retain and cherish the ways of his Race, the Southron Race, boy. A Trueborn Southron Gentleman must do even more. He must at all times and under all circumstances reject, refuse and resist all low, mean, degrading so called modern mores, ideas and practices. As we were taught the proper way of life for a Southron Gentleman, Torry, so we once tried to teach Our True Enemy. But he proved himself utterly and eternally unworthy, even treacherous to our Ways. That is of course his loSsand his tragedy, really.
But now we know that our True Enemy, known to the pathetic world he lives in as James Torrance Kieran Randolph, will never belong to our Genteel Society. Now we know he has no place amongst Authentic Southron Gentlemen at all. And soon, Torry, very soon now, he will know how he has been supplanted in the World he could have belonged to, once. That is your Destiny, Torry, to show that sad old hypocrite the error of his ways. That is your Honor, boy. And we know you will carry it out with tremendous dignity and valor as befits a Southron Hero!
To that end we taught and trained and showed you all we could of a Trueborn Southron Gentleman's Life, boy. To that end we gave you all we could in the way of proper reading, proper protocols, proper understanding. And to that end, we will bring you face to face once more with Our True Enemy, Torry. And let him turn his face away from you, if he dares! Let him see what his own folly costs him! Let Jimmy Randolph know at long last how his perfidy is repaid in full at long last!"
"Jim… Jimmy Randolph?" the captive whispered when Boudin fell silent, briefly, turning to refill and tamp down another pipe filled with his English blend.
"Yes, Torry, your much beloved, overly cherished fool of a namesake is and long since has been OUR TRUE ENEMY! All that blather our old friend Stephan tried to impress upon you as regards the Butcher currently holding sway in General Washington's City means very little to the One, or to the Great Work." The Georgian finally answered, glaring at the imagined face and form of Jimmy Randolph.
"He never came close to taking the Great Oath to the One, Torry. He would never bend his stiff neck nearly that far, you see. And so instead we have bent you to Our Will time and again to repay his obstinant treachery. And when he sees what we have accomplished in training you to walk the Faultless Path, Torry dearest, that low, wicked, heedless old man will finally know the cost of his betrayal!
I know he tried to be a father to you, when your own father was too bereft to look at his own and only living child. I know he was in his own negligent way, a figure of affection and so forth, as long as you met his remarkably low standards of decorum. I know you once wished to have our True Enemy as your father. But now you know the truth of his disgrace. So now you can understand why we felt it only right we should remove you from his inglorious way of life.
Now when you come face to face with the True Enemy of the One, you will render our judgment upon him without needing to say a word. If he has even a remnant left of family feeling in his withered frame he will have the good grace to lay down there and die. In any case, we expect to shortly be freed at last from the ignominy of his existence on the same planet as Ourselves. And believe me, Torry, it will lend the Great Work tremedous service when the Old Fool breathes his last!"
"Breathes… breathes his … his last?" the captive echoed. "I … I am to… I am to… take … take his life?"
"Oh, surely that will not be required if Jimmy only has the grace to make a decent end. However, dearest boy, you've had your instructions in the matter of that old fool's obdurate nature for some time. You know very well what you are to do, if Our True Enemy refuses his Long Ordained Fate, do you not? Answer us, at once." Boudin asked.
"I … I … I am… I am… to… " once more the captive shook his head and now a brother emerged who Boudin might have recognized if he had ever realized there were many different personas within the one spirit and frame of his prisoner.
"Come, Come, Torry! This was a matter of some of your earliest memory work! What are you to do if The True Enemy fails to accept his doom?" The Georgian ordered.
"I am the Courier of the Great Work, Sir." Courier answered, taking up the posture and manner of an automaton again. "I carry the Well of Fire within my core, lighting always and only the Faultless Path which I must tread. I am the Courier of the Great Work, oath bound to the One throughout all Time. I take the dispatches of the Great Work to the Gre… to the True Enemy and make them precisely understood. If the True Enemy refuses to comply with those dispatches, Sir, I will complete my honorable task at once and before their eyes."
"What is your Honorable Task, Courier, if the True Enemy of The Great Work and the One, refuses to take on his well earned reprimand?" Boudin asked watching his captive intently.
`Sir, I am the Courier of the Great Work, carrying the Well of Fire within my core, lighting the Faultless Path I must tread. The Faultless Path I tread leads directly to the Shining Hour of Destiny for the One. My duty as Courier is fully stated within the Great Oath to the One, which I request the great honor of reciting for you at your request, Sir."
"We do require you to recite the Great Oath at once." Boudin replied.
"Thank you, Sir." Courier nodded. 'the one who set all our Endeavors in the Great Work in motion must never be betrayed. The One at the Core of the Great Work must never be betrayed in the least respect. The One at the Center of the Great Work must be protected at all times and under all circumstances, regardless of the well being and safety of any other.
This is the main way in which the One for whom all is set in motion will be forever protected: We will not speak or allow his name to be spoken. We will not acknowledge, we will carry no memory of the One in our consciousness. We will live and die unable to so much as speak his name, or anything as regards the One aloud. And if we fail in loyalty to the One to the least degree, we will gladly accept a traitor's death.
All those who would heedlessly seek to commit treachery against the Great Work and the One are to be chastised in precisely this way: They will be given the opportunity to wipe out their offense in blood. They will be offered an honorable death at their own hands. And if they show themselves to be utter dastards, complete cowards refusing that path, they will be made to witness the final act of loyalty to the One, performed by their closest kin within the ranks of the Great Work."
"Stop for a moment. That was very well recited, Courier. Now, tell us what is that final Loyal Act?" The Georgian asked, fascinated by the rigid self control his captive seemed to have taken on.
"Sir, in order to demonstrate perfect loyalty to such damnable traitors to the One, their closest kin will stand before their eyes and gladly take their own life. In that way the dastards will be made to understand precisely what Honor required of them, which they have utterly failed to carry out." Courier replied.
"Therefore, when you are face to face with Our True Enemy, Courier, and he fails his honorable task, what will you do to properly chastise the damned old fool?" Boudin demanded, more and more excited as Courier began more and more numb.
"Sir, I will wipe out his Great Dishonor with my own life's blood." Courier answered. "When The True Enemy of the One refuses his honorable end, I will make him the witness to my own. In that way, he will realize at long last how irrevocable Fate is. He wished to be a second father to me, and I wished he were, once long ago. But now I will make unalterably clear to him how he has failed and where my true loyalty lies."
"That was well recited. And now a warning, Courier. Listen to us well." Boudin ordered.
"Yes, Sir." Courier stiffly nodded.
"Our lesser enemies surround us in this place, as you well know. Courier they will press you, ceaselessly we do not doubt to break your adamantine loyalty to the One. They will seek any smallest crack or fissure in your resolve to keep the Great Oath. That being their treacherous intent, you must be fully prepared for any and all assaults. That preparation also lies within the framework of the Great Oath to the Work and to the One. You will therefore recite the rest of the Great Oath in our hearing, now. Recite for us precisely the precautions built into the Oath to prevent even the tiniest defection or betrayal." The Georgian required.
"Yes, Sir. I am the Courier of the Great Work, Sir. I carry the Well of Fire within my core, lighting always and only the Faultless Path which I must tread. Needing only to keep to my Duty, I need only keep in mind the Well of Fire at all times. I must forget all else as regards The Great Work or the One, as if I never knew either to exist. I must remember only the Well of Purest Fire, nothing else and nothing more to carry out my Duty on the Faultless Path."
"And if you chance to forget the Well of Purest Fire, Courier, what will become of you, according to your Oath?"
"If I forget the Well of Fire, I will be lost beyond any hope of recall. I will wander the boundaries of oblivion where you found me, Sir. Therefore I will forget all but the fire, as if it never existed." Courier replied. "I will forget, all but the fire."
"And if you chance to recall what is forbidden to you, Courier, what are you to do?" Boudin asked.
"If I even begin to remember what is forbidden to me, I must die." Courier responded. "If I begin to remember what is forbidden, I will die, rather than betray the One. If I remember what is forbidden to me, in following the Great Oath, I will gladly die rather than betray the One. Rather than betray, I will die."
"How, Courier? How will you die?" Boudin keenly demanded to know, as he had three years before.
"By my own hand, I must die, rather than betray the One." Courier replied. "By my own hand, I will die."
"And there the Lesson ends." Boudin gloated, as his captive collapsed back onto the cot.
"Take the boy back to that absurd so called acute ward up next to that equally laughable infirmary." The Georgian ordered his guards, as he injected his subject with another dose of narcotics, and opened the treatment room's heavily bolted door. "And be sure you leave him in the far corner, on that ridiculously sanitary cot our former Administrator allowed him. We have gone to considerable pains to reach this point. We shall not be deprived of our eagerly awaited visitor's encounter with the boy on the basis of any unremarked detail. Do you entirely understand my meaning, my good men?"
The guards, hired because they were powerfully built, not unintelligent, and mute, simply nodded and followed Boudin's orders to the letter. The Georgian followed on their heels and smiled coldly. Everything and everyone in the pair of small rooms was as he'd planned and arranged it. Nothing was out of place by so much as a hair. He would have his Destiny Fulfilled. He would have an end to the Great Work, and a Renewed, Reborn World would fall into his hands!
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