Caino's Alphabet, L

Lichens and mosses covered the mouth 
of the Abbot’s cave, giving it the appearance 
of some great vegetable orifice.  
Once inside how-ever, 
Caino found it to be fastidiously clean.  
The room into which Hall led him 
gave not a single clue as to its 
subterranean location; the floors were 
of polished stone, the walls panelled with wood, 
or covered in shelves laden with books. 
The air was surprisingly fresh 
and a gentle breeze wafted 
from rectangular vents in the ceiling.  
    The Abbot was sitting behind a large 
and ancient desk that was checkered 
with neat stacks of documents.  
He was old and tall, with angular features 
and a long thin nose on which he balanced 
a set of reading glasses.
    Hall delivered the sheaf of manuscripts 
from Bartholomew’s satchel, 
and the Abbot absorbed himself 
in them immediately without so much 
as offering Hall and Caino a seat.
    Caino, unschooled as he was in etiquette, immediately began to lower himself 
into one of the chairs opposite the Abbot’s desk, 
but he was halted by a cautionary tug on the elbow from Hall who, at the same time,
cleared his throat to gain the Abbot’s attention.     “Yes yes, sit sit,” said the Abbot briskly.
    “Thank you, Abbot” replied Hall, and they sat.
    Caino fidgeted in his seat 
as the Abbot examined each manuscript in turn.  After what seemed to the boy an eternity, 
the Abbot squared the stack of manuscripts 
on his blotter and, 
gesturing towards the first of these, 
looked up at Caino.
    “So, our Brother Aaron would have you
as a novice, yet he hasn’t the inclination 
to serve as your mentor.”  
The Abbot made a triangle of his fingers 
beneath his chin, turned to Hall and asked, 
“Would you be willing to take on a novice, 
Brother Hall?”
    “I have not had time to acquaint myself 
with the boy, but yes, 
I will trust Brother Aaron’s judgment.”
    “And this… friend of his, 
Brother Aaron is vague on this.  
You will illuminate me on this matter?”
    “Of course, when I learn more of it myself.”
    Removing his glasses, 
the Abbot addressed Caino, 
“Is it your desire to become a novice of our sect?”
    Caino nodded in assent.   
    “And what has Aaron taught you 
of our goals and our function?”
    “He told me about your mission 
to house the Minds of mankind 
in a machine of your own devising, 
and how this will lead you 
to stumble upon the existence 
of the Places and Paths that make up our world.”
    The Abbot nodded, replacing his glasses, 
and motioned for Caino to continue.
    “He said you will find out about them 
when you turn on the Machine—
when it becomes inundated 
with the countless Paths of each Mind.  
He told me there will be a schism; 
that the Second Scientists 
will take control of the Machine, 
allowing only the one longest Path 
of each Mind to enter.”
    “Their reasoning for this heresy?” 
asked the Abbot, tapping his fingers on his desk.
    “Simplicity and function,” answered Caino, 
but seeing the Abbot’s eyebrow rise behind his glasses, he corrected himself.  “Callous efficiency.”
    “And did he tell you how 
we know of this betrayal?” 
    “Because the Second Scientists 
project their Minds back through time and…” 
Caino trailed off, realising that 
he could not answer this question.  
Gail was a confessed Second Scientist, 
and Aaron had used her 
and her companions’ presence 
as proof of the Machine’s future history, 
but he had never explained 
how he had come to know 
of the events surrounding the Machine’s 
inevitable creation in the first place.  
    The Abbot leaned forward over his writing desk, “you don’t know?” he asked.  
He looked down at the stack of manuscripts, 
adding, “Aaron never spoke to you 
of the use of Points?  
He never shared the contents 
of these manuscripts with you?”
    “No…” answered Caino— a half-truth. 
He had seen Aaron exorcise the Mind of 
the Second Science kidnapper, 
but he decided it would be best to remain silent 
on this, as it might provoke questions 
about a small metal box 
he had hidden in his robes.
    “No?” asked the Abbot. “That was his errand, 
to retrieve these manuscripts. 
They are instructive on the use of these… singularitai.”  He paused, glancing at Hall, 
and continued, “the Points will be the eyes 
and hands of the Machine; through them, 
it will gather the Minds of people 
from all times and all Places, 
delivering them to the Machine and eternity. 
    “Unfortunately, some of these Points 
will come to be corrupted by heretics,
allowing them to possess the bodies 
of our brothers and sisters… 
stolen husks pressed into 
spreading blasphemous malfeasance 
back through the ages.
    “However, as well as the possession of innocents, the Points can also be used to free them, 
see into the past, and in one very special case, 
the future.   
    “The forging of the Points was 
one of the greatest of our achievements, 
but after the Last War, we lost all save one, 
along with the technology needed 
to make another.  
    “Consequently, for more than 
three hundred years we have eked 
what secrets we could from this single revenant 
of better times.  
We have used it to peer into the past, 
finding coin hoards and other treasures 
to fund our important work.  
We can also use it to read lost texts 
from the distant past,  transcribing them here, 
into our library.”
    “But we can only see one Place in the future,” interjected Hall, 
“only the Day of the Machine’s activation is clear.”
     “Hall is correct,” said the Abbot, 
peering down at Caino, 
“the Machine will be built 
to draw in every Mind that ever there was.  
In so joining, the gathered Paths 
will create an observable  
confluence of shared inevitability.  
    “It is from our observations 
of this one day that we know of our final success—and the betrayal that will rob it from us.”
     “But aren’t the Second Scientists 
your people as well? asked Caino, 
recalling Gail’s debates with Aaron 
on the efficient running of the Machine, 
“why would you take sides 
in an argument that has yet to happen?”
    The Abbot turned to Caino 
with cold anger in his eyes, 
“This is no argument of the future,” 
he said curtly, “it concerns every human being 
who will one day meet death.  
To view a life’s many Paths 
as some crude competition where the winner 
is which-ever version of a Mind persists the longest is anathema to our cause and a heresy.     
“Even now such heretics lie hidden within our sect.  That they will one day reveal themselves 
in open rebellion serves only the more 
to prove their guilt in the present.”  
The Abbot concluded his talk with an air of finality that told Caino further debate 
would not be tolerated on the subject. 
    “You may leave me now,” said the Abbot, dispatching Hall and Caino with a wave of his hand.