The Sixth Discipline
Page 85
***
The next morning, Ran-Del found himself sitting nervously on the thin carpet that covered the floor of the revelation lodge. A small fire burned, for light rather than heat. One ceiling flap was open to allow the smoke to pass out of the lodge. Almost the only thing in the lodge besides the carpet and the fire was a pallet, a rough wooden frame covered with a mattress made of leaves and grasses.
Doan sat opposite Ran-Del, with Ali her left and Isayah on her right.
“Ran-Del Jahanpur,” Doan said, “it has become necessary to examine you again, in the Ordeal of Revelation, so that we can assess your true abilities. Do you submit your body and your mind to this proceeding?”
Ran-Del hesitated. He had no real choice. He needed their help if he were ever to be able to live with his new gift. “Yes.”
“Very well.” Doan held out her hand.
Ran-Del handed her his caste bracelet. He would get it back once the Ordeal was over.
“We will begin with the Disciplines, as usual,” Doan said.
This was as it had been before. Under their direction, Ran-Del went through each of the Disciplines in turn: the First merely to meditate and clear the mind, the Second to deal with anger and regain self control, the Third to conquer pain, and the Fourth, for extreme pain or distress. Finally, it was time for the Fifth Discipline.
Ran-Del lay down upon the pallet and began the mantra. He felt himself slowing down, growing less and less aware. Eventually, his mind found a deep, foggy nothingness and his heart stopped completely; and then Doan’s mind was there, bringing him back from the edge.
They gave him a few minutes rest after that, and a small cup of water. Then they began the next step.
Doan was the primary inquisitor. She sat across from him again and held out both hands. “Take my hands, Ran-Del.”
Ran-Del held his breath as he put out his hands. She grasped them firmly, and he gasped from the shock.
It was different from contact with Francesca or the medtechs. There was a flood of feeling, yes, but it was controlled, like the difference between water poured from a pitcher and water rushing from a broken water barrel. Instinctively, Ran-Del tried to pull away but Doan wouldn’t release her grip.
Ran-Del wanted to scream. It was if his mind were being assaulted. Isayah and Ali each reached out and clamped a hand on his arm. Ran-Del shrank back even further.
“Don’t fight us!” Doan said. “Open your mind, Ran-Del Jahanpur!”
Ran-Del couldn’t make himself do it. He tried to pull away from them, and when they wouldn’t let go, he tried to shut them out of his thoughts. It was a stalemate; he couldn’t keep them out completely, but they couldn’t get past his barricade to his inner self.
They sat for some time, Ran-Del struggling frantically, mentally and physically, and the three of them holding him steady, refusing to give up.
Finally, Ran-Del’s body revolted and he sank to the ground unconscious.