There And Back Again. An Ark Hunter's Holiday

Lady Christianna wasn't sure how to take Raizar's abrupt entrance, and at the time she had seen him before, her drugged delusion had him dressed as a medieval human soldier, so she merely smiled her Mon Lisa smile and said, "Thanks for the save."

As the conversation turned to poetry, Lady remembered about a poem that Belle Starr had shared with her shortly after Lady's father had convinced Belle to take Lady on as her protégé, and Belle had tried to introduce Lady to human culture. At the time, Lady had thought it useless drivel, and just nodded politely as Belle droned on, but like some of the art Belle had shown her, some of the literature had stuck in the deep recesses of Lady's memory. A particular poem came to mind, one written by a human named Longfellow, and although Lady had snickered when Belle had said the poet's name, his poem had sparked her then limited imagination.

Lady stood up, putting the art book back where she had found it, then searched the stacks for a book of poetry that would contain the poem she wanted, finding an old college anthology textbook that had what she sought. She remembered how Belle had stood up in the center of the room, dramatically reciting the poem for Lady like Belle had done many years before for her teacher, and how students have been doing so for teachers for a millennium. So Lady stood before Atticus and the others, clearing her throat to get their attention, and recited as emotionally as a girl not used to emotions could, the following:

 The Wreck of the Hesperus

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow  

It was the schooner Hesperus, 
That sailed the wintry sea;
And the skipper had taken his little daughtèr, 
To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, 
Her cheeks like the dawn of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, 
That ope in the month of May.

The skipper he stood beside the helm, 
His pipe was in his mouth,
And he watched how the veering flaw did blow 
The smoke now West, now South.

Then up and spake an old Sailòr, 
Had sailed to the Spanish Main,
"I pray thee, put into yonder port, 
For I fear a hurricane.

"Last night, the moon had a golden ring, 
And to-night no moon we see!"
The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, 
And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind, 
A gale from the Northeast,
The snow fell hissing in the brine, 
And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amain 
The vessel in its strength;
She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, 
Then leaped her cable's length.

"Come hither! come hither! my little daughtèr, 
And do not tremble so;
For I can weather the roughest gale 
That ever wind did blow."

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat 
Against the stinging blast;
He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.

"O father! I hear the church-bells ring, 
Oh say, what may it be?"
"'T is a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!" — 
And he steered for the open sea.

"O father! I hear the sound of guns, 
Oh say, what may it be?"
"Some ship in distress, that cannot live 
In such an angry sea!"

"O father! I see a gleaming light, 
Oh say, what may it be?"
But the father answered never a word, 
A frozen corpse was he.

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, 
With his face turned to the skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow 
On his fixed and glassy eyes.

Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed 
That savèd she might be;
And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave 
On the Lake of Galilee.

And fast through the midnight dark and drear, 
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept 
Tow'rds the reef of Norman's Woe.

And ever the fitful gusts between 
A sound came from the land;
It was the sound of the trampling surf 
On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.

The breakers were right beneath her bows, 
She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew 
Like icicles from her deck.

She struck where the white and fleecy waves 
Looked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks, they gored her side 
Like the horns of an angry bull.

Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, 
With the masts went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank, 
Ho! ho! the breakers roared!

At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, 
A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair, 
Lashed close to a drifting mast.

The salt sea was frozen on her breast, 
The salt tears in her eyes;
And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, 
On the billows fall and rise.

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, 
In the midnight and the snow!
Christ save us all from a death like this, 
On the reef of Norman's Woe!

Lady gave a quick curtsey after the recitation, as a single tear fell from her pink eye down her chalk white cheek, saying, "S'about Belle."

She then sat down next to Atticus, leaning into him and wiping the tear off her face with his shoulder, still clutching the musty old paperback book.

Erika Widowmaker was exhausted, both physically and mentally. She had visited the clinic to see her children before coming back to the Cowboys' compound to sleep, and although they were awake, they were strapped down in their beds for the safety of themselves and their doctors. Cael just laid sullenly, speaking in the third person as Kabule when he wished something, like, "Kabule wishes a drink or water," or "Kabule will kill you all." Kara just screamed and flailed until they sedated her, so only the Gods knew what was going on in her head.

Erika fell into bed, not even bothering to undress, sleeping fitfully through the night.

Volodja waved to Raizar, when he left the building. Rest of them stayed for a little longer, but Volodja had a feeling that they started to misuse Henry's hospitality. Elderly gentleman needed his well earned sleep. They sat there all night, drinking tea and discussing different topics. And Volodja made Henry to be a richer man, because he bought quite nice selection of literature and Henry surprised him as well with a little present. Henry and Volodja talked some more, until morning came, but then it was time to leave for sure.

"It was honour to meet an old school British Gentleman and a true book lover," said Volodja when they shook hands. "Hopefully will see some day again. Best of British to you." 

"You and your friends are always welcomed here," said Henry to him. "We had a really educational night and I am happy to meet with such a sophisticated man like you, Volodja. Best of British."

Volodja started his morning walk, holding package with books under left arm. Henry looked after Volodja for a long time and nodded to him, when Volodja turned around to look back, and returned to his shop only after Volodja disappeared behind the street corner.

Volodja yawned, covering mouth with his free palm. After all - he had not much sleep lately and he had to get some, unless he wanted to pass out from exhaustion. He had to get into Cowboys headquarters, find a spare cot and  get some sleep.

Volodja woke up still feeling weak and tired. At least exhaustion was gone after sleep. Sophie muttered something about too much alcohol and too much work on dealing with consequences of his glorious pub crawl, but she was not angry at him. She knew best, what Volodja went through lately and was really worried - Volodja needed lot of rest and peace to get back to his normal self. Mind duel with Manipulating Bitch was tiresome and feeling guilty about being unable to help Belle didn't made things easier either. Volodja had to climb back as fast as he could, but he needed really good care to be able of doing that.

Volodja suggested that Sophie should have some rest and reloading right away and decided to deal with his slight headache with help of couple of pills from the clinic, instead of using help of tired Sophie, After that he could visit "The Watering Hole" to have some cold beer Sarah offered him last night. So he got up from his cot, made necessary beauty procedures, dressed into his cleaned armour and left the Cowboy's headquarters. He assumed that everyone else were tired too, so he went quietly, deciding not disturb others peace. Nobody had time for him anyway.

He received his pills in clinic and out of sheer curiosity asked a member of medical personnel show him the way to rehabilitating brainwashes. He didn't expect to be able to help them. He was not a counsellor any more, but he could have a look at least. Cael just laid on his bed, speaking in the third person as Kabule if he wanted something. Kara just screamed and flailed restlessly. 

Volodja tried to remember what he knew about brainwashing techniques...Making brainwashed one to accept new orders from the master resembles the way ther brain traditionally learns something new, but process has to be more intense, because new set of orders must gain control over one's former personality. Best way to brainwash somebody is to use repetitive signals on one's brain, because connections between neurons will become stronger when they are exposed to incoming signals of certain frequency and intensity. Brainwashing techniques include isolating the individuals and controlling their access to information, challenging their belief structure and creating doubt, and repeating messages in a pressurized environment...Capturing townsfolk brains was a simple task, because crone had to repeat simple orders to make them obey. Their personalities were switched off and replaced with a simple set of orders for basic action. But in case of Cael and Kara things were more complicated - they had totally new and nasty personalities forced over their own. And permanent signal flood didn't allowed them to reject or eject those new personas.

Answer to the question, how the permanent signal flood was guaranteed, was simple - evil crone used her devices for sending set of more complicated signals to Cael's and Kara's brains. Now those devices were removed. That meant that signal flood was cut, and remains of their old personalities started to fight the new ones, forced on them and were trying to push them out. Seemed to be logical conclusion. He looked at patients once again.

Cael was more stable. Speaking of Kabule in third person seemed to be sign of Cael was pushing Kabule slowly out from his mind. Using expressions a la "Kabule wants" instead of "I, Kabule, want" gave some hope for fast recovery. If he keeps fighting that Kabule personality will be finally ejected. Kara was more....complicated. Her behaviour revealed that she had hard struggle going on inside her. There must be the way to help Kara. She needed some support, some motivation. Something worth to be struggling for.

He started with Cael: "Senator. I believe that you don't need lot of help to kick the Kabule out for good. You are doing nicely. Just keep up the fight. I'll keep my eye on you if you need any help, because I will be close enough."

After that he stepped over to Kara's bed and put his hand to her forehead. He asked: "Mistress?". Kara seemed to calm down a bit and she answered "Yes?"
"How long have you been a Mistress of Judgement?" was Volodja's next question. "And do you remember anything before the time you became the Mistress?"
Kara seemed to think and she was trying hard to remember something: "Not...not very long and I...I had children...Two of them. I was a mother."
"Good. Did you loved them?" continued Volodja. "How much did you loved them?"
"Very, very much," Kara whispered.
"Your children will help you in the fight, Kara. Only way, leading to them. will be over Mistresses dead body. You have to defeat her, when you want to see your children again. Can you do it?"
"I..I can try. I must try. N...No I MUST FIGHT!" Kara screamed. She really had guts and wish to fight. Only thing she needed, was a support. And maybe if they get more stable they could use set of another signals, supporting their old personalities.

Volodja stood by Kara's bed and kept his hand on her forehead, so she didn't had to feel isolated any more. That cold beer could wait a bit. Couple of hours or so. Or even couple of days. Until Kara wins the Mistress, Volodja won't leave her side. She must see her children again! Actually he could use a chair...or wheel chair. He can't stand there for awfully long time.

"Dr. Jekyll...I mean Dr. Peters. I would ask that you guarantee constant surveillance of this room, but you probably have it already done that. And may I have a chair, please? It might take pretty long time, before we get things done here. And can I have some music, please? All of us could use that here. I ll give you a sample." And Volodja let them download a piece of Mozart from his pad, so they could play one of his favourite parts from "Die Zauberflöte" It was Sarastro's aria "In Diesen Heil'gen Hallen" How suitable.

 

"Chief. Thank you for a chair. Feeling still tired after last night. And Sophie is exhausted after dealing my hangover, so she has her morning off," replied Volodja. "As for our patients then Cael seems to be more stable here, so he is transportable in his present condition. Senator is able to fight his fight without much outer help. He speaks of Kabule in third person, like Kabule was his servant. But Kara struggles at moment for her former self. I would not suggest to transport here yet. All depends how fast she defeats her new personality and starts to recover. We could take a chance when she calms down some more. In our base we have better technology and our famous Dr. Orion, who can work miracles. We must let her fight some more, because she knows that she has reason to win. That makes  gives her willpower to win. Hopefully it won't take too long, though."

His voice was calm and determined again, because suddenly he found something to do, like Erika suggested him last night. Like helping yourself and others. And starting with Erika's children was a nice way to thank her for that advice.

Erika Widowmaker woke up early doing her calisthenics, then running a mile, which was her usual routine to keep herself fit. Many would think her callous that she didn't immediately go to the hospital to visit her children, but she knew her roles in life. She had been a soldier most of her life, then a bureaucrat and even a diplomat, but she never had been, nor would she ever be, a doctor or psychiatrist. She wanted to wade into the war her children were waging, but knew others had the weapons to wage it which she did not, so best to stay out of the way of the experts.

So she showered after she ran, dressing in fresh fatigues, then went to the hospital. She spoke to Dr. Philips, letting him brief her on her children's condition, and he told her of the work Volodja was doing with them. She was worried, seeing him more as a dilettante than a counselor, but when she looked in, it seemed that both Cael and Kara were making progress under his care, so she closed the door, then sat in a chair in the hall, for that was also what she was good at, as a soldier, bureaucrat, and diplomat. All were roles that require patience for waiting.