Heresy 60

The Warden's body flickered for an instant as his holographic matrix went through a scheduled self-test. He looked down from the guard post, at the light bridge that led to the deepest, most secure levels of Facility 4028.

The holographic guards were marching over the bridge now, faceless in their reflective helmets, their armour gleaming with personal shielding, their weapons at the ready. Eight of them. The slight figure of the Vulcan woman in their midst was almost hidden from the Warden's view.

An indicator flashed on the control board. The cell door was opening. A moment later, the cell started to register occupancy. The door closed again. The Warden fancied for a moment that he heard the dull boom of the door swinging shut, echoing through all the lightless rock that held the Federation's most secure detention facility. He reproved himself. He was not programmed for fancies - and, anyway, those doors did not swing, they slid.

"T'Nir of Vulcan," he read aloud from the display. "Guilty of treason, murder and conspiracy to commit genocide."

Confirmed, came the electronic message from the ISIS computer.

"She is of previous good character, was acting under mental influence, and pled guilty to all charges. These facts should mitigate in her favour."

Noted.

"Against this, we must consider the unquantifiable factors of the mental influence. We have no guarantees that it has lapsed, and lack a full understanding of its potentialities. The matter is under investigation by experts on Vulcan, but no conclusions have been reached."

Also noted.

"In view of this, all precautions must be taken to ensure the continued security of the facility." The Warden was not programmed for professional pique, either - but, when he considered some events earlier in his career, he felt it anyway.

I concur, said ISIS.

"Condition: security ultimate, then."

Confirmed. Security ultimate.

The light bridge winked out. On the other side, the guards, their work done, discorporated, their holo-matrices returning to the ISIS network.

The Warden continued to look down. His vigilance was mechanically perfect, mechanically patient... eternal.

---

The cell was spacious, and not uncomfortable. But it was still a cell.

T'Nir sat on the bed for a long, long time, her head hanging. Finally, in a quiet voice, she began to speak.

"I am imprisoned under conditions of maximum security, among artificial minds I cannot influence. The artifact, the source of my power, has been taken from me and is being held at a cosmic distance from here. What remains of the will of this fleshly vessel is now implacably opposed to my own. My existence is known, my political and military power has been destroyed. My enemies are on their guard against me."

She raised her head. Her eyes were burning.

"These things are setbacks. And setbacks yield to the disciplined mind."