Here's where this whole idea of the
Stockholm Syndrome gets kinda fuzzy: you have to be able to tell who is in control of the situation.
Pretty much every human who ever lived has come to realize control is as slippery as an eel and can zap you much more easily. In my very limited experience with beings who are not human, they seem to be struggling with pretty much the same challenges. If a mediator was looking for common ground between humans and the
Lyrii, that might not be a bad place to begin.
Despite
what the experts think about this being an innate defense mechanism, my personal theory is that this whole syndrome idea is just a catch phrase...some spin doctor's mighty stroke of genius to rename what might be humanity's one redeeming virtue; empathy. Of course if you're in tight quarters with someone for any length of time, you're going to start to place yourself in their shoes. Now if you're the abused party, if you're the victim of persecution, I'll grant you it takes a might deeper reserve of empathy to get you to this place. History tells us there have been many with that depth of compassion, so much so that they have been awarded a syndrome all their own.
So here Syha and I sat in our camper with one of the Lyrii in human form,
Ezrial. We presumed
Tindar and Marquet had detected the danger from another Lyrii nearby (one not in human form), because they had peeled out of the garage mighty fast from the house where they'd gone to retrieve the Reston artifact. Presuming them safe, we were suspended in a prolonged state of "what next?" in the camper.
Syha had made some bold insights into the Lyrii's secrets, so much so that it was hard to tell who sat here with the upper hand now.
The Lyrii are far superior beings in terms of strength, knowledge and insight. On the other hand, Ezrial's cover was completely blown and he was distinctly outnumbered, not only by Syha and me, but by the artifact
thieves, Delaney and Holst. For several uncomfortable moments, we all studied the situation, wondering whose move it was and what in the universe that move might be. There was nothing in my experience to compare this to and frankly I doubted if there was anything from the Great Story to help the Lyrii either.
The effects of the syndrome began to take hold. Now I'm no
Chandorean, but I could hardly help myself wondering what was going on in the mind of this creature left holding the bag, his plans thwarted, as he sat nervously staring at us.
"Where would your friend have gone?" Ezrial finally asked, feigning bravado with
believable aplomb.
"If you think humans seem any less unpredictable to other humans, you're working from a faulty
premise," I suggested with a smile.
Point of note:
Knowledge = Leverage
...in the balance for control, at least when it's essential knowledge.
Of course I knew perfectly well where Tindar was likely to head once he felt secure he wasn't being followed, if indeed he'd managed to get his hands on the Reston artifact. He would head to
Jerome's property and the ruins of the Gate. Certainly if we could free ourselves from Ezrial, that's the first place I would look for him.
"You lie," Ezrial accused. "But it doesn't matter. I have the vastness of Time itself to seek him out."
Counterpoint:
Superior Skills = a 10 Ton Weight
...in the balance for control.
My heart sank, because I believed him completely.
"Why have you had such difficulty, given that advantage?" Syha wanted to know. She had been sitting quietly with her eyes closed ever since the car had sped away, listening to every sensitive nerve of her being. She opened her eyes now, studying Ezrial closely.
The human Lyrii faltered at this question. He lowered his head, shaking it slowly from side to side. His shoulders slumped, as if he'd finally released a great weight from them.
Syha had, with surgical finesse, plucked the supporting brick upon which his entire bravado had been balanced.
"We don't know," he finally sobbed.
My heart reached out to him, but I dared not move a muscle. This was all about who was going to have control, after all.
A detached corner of my mind wondered if I would have been so quick to empathize with an alien if he didn't share my human appearance. The likeness really was uncanny. All of the body language signals were exactly as I expected. The depth of emotion, whether a finely crafted hoax or genuinely felt, shocked me. I wondered if it was an act, or an absolute marvel of evolutionary manipulation. Humans have long been in awe of our physical adaptations, the myriad and minute selections to enhance our species. We ourselves know so little about the intangible emotional side of our beings and how they serve us. Few outside of Wanderer culture have even acknowledged emotions, let alone explored them in depth.
I saw very real human tears fall from his cheeks, spilling over his fingers and down onto his lap. Emotions are messy, inconvenient and sometimes completely overwhelming in the light of detachment and good sense. My
resistance melted away as I moved to put my arms around Ezrial. It was only human, after all. When I first touched him, he flinched, tensing his whole body. Then a new flood of tears swept over him and he collapsed into my arms.
I'd pictured my first meeting with the Lyrii differently...a lot less hugging, certainly.
"The reason for being for my whole race is in ruins," he gasped between sobs.
"And we are at the root of it all," I whispered quietly to no one in particular.
So much for control. If there was control to be had here, it wasn't in my hands.
So much for good guys and bad guys.
We could talk this through. We could find a solution that worked for both the Time Warrens and for humans. How had Serghan and his cohorts from the 30th generation become so implacable that this had all come to a conflict in the first place?
I felt Syha get up and slide over next to me. She placed her hand on my shoulder gently and gave it one sharp squeeze. I raised my eyes from Ezrial to look at her. In her eyes I saw deep concern. Did she think I'd lost myself in these alien arms? How was she not touched by the same emotions? Slowly a veil lifted and I saw her again differently. Her hand was over her belly, her face was pale. She was raising a silent alarm as best she could, because the other Lyrii, the one not in human form, was coming closer again.
Had Ezrial's reaction been only a ploy to buy them time? I doubted myself...my actions...my feelings...even my ability to judge the feelings of others. Wasn't it only
natural that the other Lyrii, having lost Tindar, would return to zir companion. Did Ezrial's intentions even matter if the other Time Warren came busting in on us? I wondered desperately what was written in the Great Story for this moment fast approaching.
