“No, no, no, fuck that,” Morgue whispered like he feared he’d try and start over. “Ineverwant to be imprisoned like that again.”
“Listen, how are you doing with the sisters, I need some hard data on that front.”
“What do you mean with the sisters, whatfrontare you talking about?”
“Do I need you in a more protected environment while we hardwire your new conscience components.”
“Thesistersare the only thing keeping my mental hinges together, donottake me from here,please.”
That was good to fucking hear. “That’s exactly why I put you there, to absorb thatcrazygluethat holds these angels together through these hellish storms.”
“Oh man,” he said quietly, winded. “That is afact.Sister Beatrice? A woman ofmanywords but she carries a hellacious punch in her tiny body. But it’s SisterAnnathat blows me away man. She’s got thisquietpower, like a… bomb going off underwater. You don’t hear it, but wow, youfeelit,” he swore. “I like to stand right next to it with my eyes closed, just feeling the shock waves hitting my skin and blood.”
Bishop had to chuckle. “One of these women reading poetry to you? You’re developing one hell of a way with words.”
“Really?”
“Oui, oui,” Bishop said to the hope he guarded.
“I wish I knew more about everything,” Morgue said. “I know it’ll come in time but… every second I breathemy ownair, I feel it. Just…life.Pulsating in my ears and mind, my mouth, my skin. Andtimeis… it’s a whole thing now.Not the second hand or the minute hand, but the slow one, the heavy one,” he said eagerly. “It has so much purpose and authority. And then it hit me about this heavy hand… it possesses the weight of all things thatmatter.” He paused then said, “And guess what? Itall matters!”
He ended with a low, profound laugh, like a man who discovered the universe’s deepest secret. “Damn, Brother. Has Lesion been visiting you?”
“Lesion? Who’s that?” he asked, ready to meet him then the whole world.
“Oh, he’s our swamp alchemist,” Bishop informally introduced with pride. “Creator of all the chemical things that can make you go hmmm andohhhh shiiiit.”
Morgue’s laugh made Bishop grin. “You seem to have given me a natural supply of it.”
“Not me, no,” Bishop said. “I only returned things to what they were before.”
He went quiet then muttered, “Before… yeah, I… don’t remember anything.”
“It may return with time,” Bishop said.
More silence. “Is it okay if I just… hold on to the new things?”
Damn. He didn’t want to know what might make a man want to ditch their entire life, but the kind of tampering Bishop found in his head smelled like soul-scraping. Which meant they’d taken the best of him in order to create the man he wantedno memory of. “Oui, brother,” he assured. “Hold on to only the new and amazing things.”
Morgue suddenly informed, “Sinrik visited. I told him he no longer had access to my directive stack. He thinks you made a mistake.”
Speaking of the soul-scraping devil. “Well, I didn’t,” he said, confident of that much. “But tell me what you fear.”
“Oh,everything,” he said, right out with it. “What I feel, what I think. How and why I think.ThatI think. Then it moves toshouldI think andwhatshould I feel,whyshould I.”
Fuck, he needed somebody to talk to that had more time in their day. “I’m going to arrange for sessions with one of the qualified sisters to help navigate this stage of growth. Non-negotiable,” Bishop tacked on. “Your first seventy-two hours are too important to be sloppy with.”
“I agree, I’m ready to doeverythingnecessary to see it through the right way. Whatever I was, whoever they made me, I want no part of.”
“Oui. I agree one thousand percent. I’ll set that up now, keep that phone with you.”
“Yes sir,” he said.
Bishop hung up and found Sister Isla’s number, walking further down the empty hall and looking around. Where the hell was everybody?
“Sister Isla speaking,” she answered, sounding guarded.
“Sister, it’s Bishop. I was hoping you could help me with a small problem.”