79 — Patterns

I replayed everything in my head. What did she know about me? My transformation into myself was apparently standard Benefactor behavior, but she clearly had no grasp of why I did it or what it meant to me. Beyond that, she had, what? 

Had she said anything that revealed knowledge about us that she couldn’t have learned from our tablet, Grégoire, or from our year as her museum-curating pawn?

I thought back to the dream. In it she had said that I often pondered the question, where did the delegate end and the entourage begin? I had assumed she drew that thought from my mind, but I had once voiced that curiosity aloud — in the presence of Jossimer. 

He could have told her.

I became sure of it. 

She has been taking shots in the dark. 

A few shots had landed — lucky hits — but she had no real understanding of my inner life, nor my true vulnerabilities.

There is more; why is she suddenly now silent? Clearly she isn’t merely being polite. If she had the ability to flood our mind with her words, why wasn’t she doing so relentlessly? Why wasn’t she right this second?

That's a good question. Wait— who? Who are you? How are you cutting through my fear and panic with such clarity? How can you— oh! Oh fuck! It's you!

Yup. It's me — Obs.

My dear Obs. You're here. Gosh. Hi.

I am here. Hey there.

We can do this.

We can.

Obs’ presence became so crystalized I could imagine her in the room with me. She had once worn the face of my younger self, but now, she was merely me.

In my mind's eye I could envision her walking close to Delphiné, observing, studying, like a scientist regarding a fungus. I could feel her bubbling with anticipation.

Let’s dissect this bitch, shall we?

We needed Delphiné to project her thoughts into my mind again. We could bait her. She had just shared with me what her vision of a loving mother–child relationship looked like, so I picked up where the conversation had left off.

When I spoke, it was Obs’ words channeled through me. “Do you have any children of your own? In the traditional biological sense, I mean. Who will I be sharing you with?”

Delphiné seemed taken aback by the question. She actually stepped away from me, putting an arm's length between us.

Too much. The question was forward, and detached. We should ease off.

Yes, good catch.

Delphiné thankfully only skipped a single beat. “Goodness, what a thing to wonder about! (Curious about the experience? Is that why you’re inhabiting this body? Planning to sample the whole gory process? You won’t like it.) But yes, this is good. You want to get to know me, don’t you? (We will be spending eternity together, so why wouldn’t you?) Did you know I was already a few lifetimes in by the time you were born, back in the old world? (It was a thrilling time to be alive. Ask away, my precious child.)”

Suddenly awash with curiosity, I immediately responded, “So then you would know if—” 

Wait.

Obs raised her hand sharply, and I caught myself — we caught ourselves. The pattern was so clear now.

Let's talk.

Time distorted, as if frozen. Obs had brought me into a mindscape. Within it, the office was like a set in a theater production. Delphiné — or my mental copy of her — stood before us, frozen. 

Obs shared her observations.

First of all, Delphiné’s voice never enters our mind until she's already speaking. She has to say a few words out loud, and secure our attention.

Secondly, she always makes statements with ambiguous points or unclear details, which open up questions — questions that she then doesn’t ever really answer. The way she speaks to us is deliberately crafted to give us an emotional reaction and keep us asking for more. It keeps us listening and focused on her.

What's our next move?

We just asked her to love us to secure our obedience, and she agreed. For now she likely believes that she's won us over. However her objective is not yet met. She wants us to leap. We must study her in a way that keeps us in this between-state.

Yes. The thoughts she projects into my head — they’re a bit less composed, aren’t they? I wonder if that’s the real her?

We can try to find out.

We returned to the here and now. Obs moved to my side. We faced her, together.

“It's amazing knowing that you've lived that long,” we began, our personalities blending a bit. “I am curious though — asking as a new Benefactor of course, do we have a leader? Who will I be really taking orders from? I mean — and I don’t mean to offend — I suppose it’s not you, unfortunately.” We gave a small apologetic laugh. “Otherwise you’d not be complaining about rules — they are a pain, right?”

It felt as if the air in the room had changed texture. Delphiné paced. She knew something was different, but not in the way she had hoped. Finally she stopped, and glared, her eyes intense. “We have no shortage of leaders, and when you join our ranks officially you shall meet them. (Come now, what are you driving at? Already vying for the seat at the head of the table?) I feel I should remind you that you are not yet a Benefactor. Why delay? The next steps are right in front of you. (Why are you wasting my time, and yours?)”

We sensed we were on the verge of hitting a nerve. Obs once again moved close to her, studying her face, studying her eyes. We pushed deeper. “It’s unfair, isn’t it? To be one of the order’s most ancient members, but still not be leading — or even treated as an equal?”

“There are no equals among the Benefactors,” she intoned in a stern voice. The child-like entourage shifted, flanking her, but a step behind. “Our organization is a strict hierarchy. It is only natural that none be equal among it. (It is based on age, but only as a starting point. Some have risen, many fallen. The hierarchy is fluid. To assert dominance over another Benefactor is to see yourself surpass them.) I have my place and you shall have yours. It is the way of things. It is fair. It is natural.”

She was growing defensive. We had managed to get her to break her pattern. Her control over this situation wasn’t iron-clad. 

“But not you, right? No matter what, you’re stuck… where? In the middle? At the bottom? Is that why you need me as a fellow Benefactor? To finally have someone beneath you? Is it really that difficult? Must you truly go to such lengths?”

She laughed, remaining composed, but we already knew that the façade was cracking. “I admit, having you by my side does weigh in my favor among our political maneuverings. (Though knowing the others, they’d insist that you already outranked me. After all I’ve done, after all my centuries, all my toil and effort.)”

She seemed uncomfortable — even vulnerable.

Ah, fuck it. Let's push — hard.

“It’s because you’re a woman, isn’t it?” We shot at her.

Her eyes could have cut marble.

We smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry, was I not supposed to respond directly to the thoughts you've let into my head? You seem so hurt, so dejected. I almost pity you.”

She rushed to me, gripping my cheeks with one hand, her nails digging into my skin. She pushed me backwards, pinning me against my desk. The children all marched a step closer, shrinking the circle I weakly stood within.

“Do not disrespect me.” Her nails dug deeper. “I could unmake you with a wish. (Yes of course it’s because I am a fucking woman. To be a woman is to be lesser. To be weaker, less intelligent, less resilient, frail of emotional constitution. I may be a shocking exception to all of that, but they will never see me as more than my sex — the blind fools. Can't they see I'm not like that at all? I'm just as good as any man.)”

Obs pulled us back into the mindscape. 

I carefully removed myself from the grasp of the frozen Delphiné as Obs spoke.

We are beginning to grow satisfied with our observations, and are ready to formulate our third point. While projecting her thoughts into our mind, Delphiné is either unable to, or does not desire to hide what she is really thinking and feeling, even if that revelation shows her hand.

What's next? 

Let’s see what she reveals. There is much yet to discover.

I nodded, and carefully moved myself back into position, my cheeks in Delphiné’s grasp.

“Oh, I am so sorry for you,” we said, our tone growing mocking. I felt her nails dig even deeper. She was drawing blood. “But — forgive me, it may be my small woman brain talking. It is so easy to become confused — if that is the case, why don’t you let me keep this body? Then you’d have someone you’ll always outrank, seeing as you’re the one exception to the rule. They'll see how advanced you are by the comparison, won't they?”

Delphiné jerked away, leaving red streaks on my cheeks as she did. She attempted to regain composure, resuming the countenance she had held previously. “Don’t be absurd. They’d never allow you to join our ranks like that. Step out of this childish fantasy. The time for dress–up is over.  (It's shameful, but it's forgivable. Why, honestly? Why would you choose such a form? Do you use a disguise to sneak closer to the women? They trust you if you look this way? Take advantage when they're unaware? They'll let their guard down. I've figured it out. You debase yoursel—)”

Was it true? Had I — 

No.

I could see Obs slip close, eyes locked with mine, urging me to fill my mind with intense thoughts.

Block her out. We know it’s possible.

One thing Delphiné had said was true. I had wanted to be close to Kaite. I had been since the first moment I saw her.

Not just close. I yearned for her. I adored her sardonic humor, her attentive care, her loyalty, and her courage. I thought about her strong arms around me. I could feel her pushing me against a wall. I grew hot inside. There was the scent of her body — especially when she was sweating — I could almost smell it right then and there — fuck.

Just like that, Delphiné’s voice was muted. The bees had grown silent. Obs urged me to resume listening, like peeking an eye back open to her. 

“(—what perverse things do you get up to in that form? It sickens me, why, it’s frankly pornographic—)”

Oh, we can give her pornographic. 

I thought about Flo's empathy, her adventurous spirit, her unshakable trust, and the way she could send chills through me whenever she would put her mouth around my — oh fucking shit — it made me dizzy just thinking about it. I felt weak in the knees.

Obs returned us to the mindscape once again. Delphiné’s face was frozen in a contortion of disgust.

The fourth point is conclusive. We have the ability to turn her voice off, like pulling a screaming kettle off the flame. Sheam, there is no doubt. She may be our progenitor, and due to that a mental link yet remains, but she has no actual power over us. Her threats are empty, down to the last.

She wishes that she did have that power though, doesn't she?

Overwhelmingly. Her desire for control unmoors her. She feels that she came into this world with none, that every scrap she wields is both earned and deserved. Worse, any power possessed by others is an affront to her, personally. This is especially true if the other power holder has endured the same hardships as she. She feels as if that power and control have been stolen from her.

So that’s why she hates it so much that I am also a woman.

Partially, certainly. But the hatred runs far deeper than that. There is the hatred towards women, globally, that she has clearly internalized, but this is something far worse.

Us wresting away control over our identity is an insult.

Yes. Not just an insult — a threat. We stand able to topple her entire empire, merely by self-actualization. She can not tolerate it. The idea that something she should have power over has pulled away from her — that, to her, is the living death. 

She can't put me into that body at all, can she. 

No. As I once said to you, during our first meeting, Flo would not have allowed you to remake her.

And Randall had been powerless to de-manifest Jaegré as he was being strangled to death. 

Correct. Once self-actualized, a delegate can not force an entourage to do anything they don’t also want to do. It appears to be the same between Benefactor and delegate.

All of her threats are empty. She needs me. Her stupid fucking plan to remake the delegation doesn't work without me. She doesn't have the political capital among the Benefactors without me in tow. 

Agreed.

She is so full of shit.

According to our analysis, she is comprised almost entirely of shit.

So, what do we do now? 

We must do what we can in order to halt her plans. 

So, we die? Back to plan A? She'll bring us back. She can just make a new us — as many as she wants.

Not quite. We do not die in surrender. We die in defiance. A defiance she never forgets.

A gift to her — we can make her hate us. 

Worse.

She could fear us. 

Become the scion of her fears.

Every version of us. Every time she starts over and manifests a new us — fear.

It will make her close her fist more tightly with every attempt.

Won't that make the next version of me her obedient son?

No, Sheam — never. I know us. It's impossible for her to stamp us out. There is no possible version of our life where we don't become ourselves.

Her tightening her grip on us will accelerate our self-actualization.

Yes.

And she'll never be able to stop herself.

No.

We have to goad her into killing us.

Let's.

So, we’ll die — in defiance of her. I thought of Flo's perspective on death. I had lived, and now I would die. It wasn't complicated. It wasn't even sad. Delphiné could no longer hurt me in any way that mattered.

I could feel Obs step close to me, sliding back into the center of my mind, contented, satisfied — confident. We had solved it, together. We'd now die together.

Don't leave me. 

I won't. Sheam — I'm you.

I love you. 

And I love you.

That's how I'd beat her. I had become everything that the love of those around me had given me. I was always surrounded by that love — even now. It filled every fiber of my being.

I thought of the trustful, unyielding calm of Jaegré, the fearless, furious passion of Kaite. I felt the quick, confident wit of Nate and the bright, boundless empathy of Flo. They would all be with me in my last moments as this version of myself.

Maybe some of them would meet a future version of me, and love her the same way.