"John Meaney - Sanctification" - читать интересную книгу автора (Meaney John)

There was a pause, then Teacher asked a new question, and it was not a
standard one. "What do you call this place and time?"
"I call it Hope," said Zenshara softly.

That night, when she went to Zhiang's room, she found it empty, devoid of
all his belongings. She asked no-one about his departure, knowing that
no-one would tell her anything. She would never see either of her friends
again.
She worked harder than ever at her lessons on the next day. In the
evening, she was told she had to serve at the Masters' Table. During their
dinner, she waited on table with two of the monastery's servants. Despite
the name, the Masters' Table was a richly appointed dining-room for the
occasional use of Teachers and Administrators, of either gender, and their
visitors from the outside world. The assignment was both a reminder of the
humility which Zenshara needed to achieve, and a reward which would let
her listen to the conversation of strangers to the monastery.
These visitors were rich patricians and merchants, wealthy men with
well-refined manners and a genuine interest in helping the monastery. That
donations might enhance their social standing was a happy accident.
Zenshara listened as the Administrators shamelessly flattered the visitors
in the hope of contributions to the monastery's substantial requirements
for revenue. The Teachers at table mostly kept their silence.
During the weeks which followed, Zenshara's mathematical training was
intensified. At the end of one particularly gruelling session, having
simultaneously mapped out a huge array of stochastic functions in the
simulation room, she was about to leave when Teacher stopped her with the
smallest of gestures.
"Zenshara." His voice was deceptively gentle. "There is one question you
have never asked me, in all your time here."
Zenshara wondered what sort of test this was. "Which question, Teacher?"
"You have never asked, why it is that a Saint must die."
The common people thought that death was a natural side-effect of the
drugs the Saint must take to commune with the machines. Both Zenshara and
Teacher knew better. The toxin was a deliberate addition to the mixture.
"When a link has been established to the machines," she said, "then it can
never be truly broken. And who can maintain perfect control of their
Wishes all the time? In their sleep, who can control their dreams?"
Teacher said nothing. A Saint, in the throes of a nightmare, could bring
death and destruction to them all. Zenshara had the right of it.
He was both pleased and saddened by her insight.

Nobody said anything, yet Zenshara knew that the time of her own
sanctification was drawing near. Teacher took her to his study, where he
talked about the types of Wishes which Saints made. Most often, they
transported ships across unimaginable distances, or held open
communications networks across many worlds for as long as possible, while
people sent the highly compressed info-dumps they had been saving up.
Others formed more esoteric Wishes, and not every Saint knew in advance
what their Wish might be. It was useful, though, to determine in advance
if a Saint was not going to transport a colony ship, to save expense and