In which John and the Herald begin an exploration

[Martha Villiers]

John sat in the Chapter House at a desk, an open book sat in front of him it was a book on Greek mythology. He had always known that his slacking off would probably would bit him in the ass. Then again he never thought he would ever really need to know about any sort of occult stuff but now here he was, in a Ordo Dracul Chapter House, striving like so many other neonates like him to find a way to escape this curse.

He wore a black zip up hoody with the hood pull over his head, partly for the cold weather, but mostly so that nothing distracted him from his reading. One could tell that underneath that was a white button down with blue stripes, as well as some khakis and loafers

Next to him sat a bull whip that shared a certain similarity with the Indiana Jones bullwhip from the movies. He could not help but constantly shift his gaze to the damn thing every so often, wondering what Martha had in mind with it.

Something had truly changed in John. It wasn't some sort of darkness that was coming over him, but it was something else. Something with more determination and a will to move forward even more than before. Over the last couple of months John has seen some things that most people would never have to experience, and survived. Not just survived, but walked away with most of his humanity intact. Despite the disapproving glances from the others, despite the orders to kill innocent people, the hacking up of the body of someone who had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. He had walked away still believing at the bottom of his heart that there was still some hope left for him and those around him. His resolve had been strengthened and he was filled with the feeling that whatever came next he could face it head on, the Coils awaited.

Tiny Martha enters the room, opening the door with a burst of energetic activity. Limping in with a wide eyed purpose about her. Brimming with eagerness. Dressed in her usual school uniform of hat, black blazer, calf length gymslip...a pair of shiny black patent leather shoes...her C-Leg helps her along. She has no cane tonight. Twin tails bob. Red ribbons tie them into neat plaits.

"Good evening, Slave Mclean, be alert, sir! Class is now in session!" she says with eagerness. Standing, hands perkily on her hips as she watches John with wide eyes. Spectacles perched on the end of her small nose...she seems to be watching John as if expecting him to say or do something.

John jumps a little hearing the sudden activity, he griminess a little at the title of "slave" he still hated that title, however soon he wouldn't have to worry about that. He looks up from his book and pulls his hood down. He then stands from his seat.

"Good Evening Mistress Martha, I look forward to this evening's lesson."

He says friendly but not a casually as he normally does with Martha. It seemed clear that tonight called for a little formality, Martha the Teacher was in the room, not Martha the friend.

He pauses for a moment before pointing to the whip on the table in front of him.

"I brought you a whip as requested."

The words did not fit well in his mouth, he got nothing but bad feelings about that damn thing.

Martha peers over the rims of her spectacles to the whip. Nodding, she opens a hand and stretches an arm out, as if asking silently John to bring the whip to her. She nods again and smiles. But she's clearly indicating he should bring it to her. "Splendid, Slave Mclean, splendid! Thank you!" One hand out stretched, the other perkily remains on her hip. Her pose is almost poised and certainly suits her attire.

John picks up the whip and walks over to Martha and places it in her out stretched hand. He then takes a step back so that she could examine it, or whatever she planned on doing with it. His body tenses a little, preparing for the worst should it come. Part of him thinks (more like hopes) that this was some sort of symbolic gesture, but the former Carthian still didn't feel comfortable with it around.

Tiny Martha accepted the whip with a nod and began to inspect it. She spends a few silent moments toying with it in both hands. Testing it's strength and flexing it. Though she resists cracking the whip. Smiling to herself. Nodding, she coiled the whip about her satchel strap to hold it in place there and smiled again. Reaching carefully into her satchel, she brought out a small item on a cord lanyard. With a smile of innocence and a respectful nod, she offered John a gift. A NATO pattern magnetic compass for infantry map reading. It is handed over to John with respectful and delicate care.

"Thank you, sir...I offer you this in return for we are about to begin Exploring!" she smiles sweetly as she says this.

[[The compass: http://silva.se/products/proffession...dition-4b-nato ]]

And with that John relaxes. Of course it was a symbolic gesture, Stupid! You've know Martha for how long now? You should know she has a thing for the symbolic.

John chuckles as he takes the compass, trying to get rid of the nervous energy that he had built up.

"Aye aye, Mistress Martha. Where do we begin?"

He says with a playful salute, clearly thankful for the gift and enthusiastic to begin.

Martha returns the salute...though with some obvious precision in her action, before limping closer, clearly relaxing too now and smiles. Nodding. "Well, first we locate North. We orientate ourselves, sir! No mission or expedition ever came to harm by doing that simple thing first! Do you know how to do that, sir?" she asks, all happy. Limping closer, she rests against the desk. Watching John with friendly care.

John looks down at the compass and then back up to Martha, he had never really used one before. However, the bigger mystery at the moment was figuring out if she was talking metaphorically, or if there actually was something about finding North that would help them with tonight's lessons.

"Well I guess, that depends on what we are doing to orientate ourselves. I'm afraid I have never really used a compass before. The most I know about it is that it automatically points north, everything else on it is sort of a mystery to me. I guess for the most part, I'm completely shooting in the dark, aside from what you have already told me."

He says a little shyly while examining the compass then looking back up to her, trying not to make it sound like he was complete idiot.

Martha smiles carefully. For a moment she wondered if John was joking. A gentle smile, she perched herself on the edge of the desk and gestured for John to come closer. Swinging her flesh leg happily. "I see, see. Well..." she pauses and from her satchel at her side, she carefully produces a compass identical to the one given to John, she shows hers to John and, smiling, holds her compass flat in both hands. Cradling the compass carefully and holding it close to her chest she talks John through the method; "Here, sir...allow me to show you. This I am showing you is the center hold technique. It is useful as it provides a nice stable support for the reading. This will let you find magnetic north. You must hold the compass level...so the needle can move freely and follow the magnetic energy that it is sensitive to. Form a steady base with your fingers and extend your index finger thus...along the side of the compass. Let the needle settle and the compass needle will point to the Magnetic North. Remember: try to keep the baseplate nice and level!" a happy smile. "Once you know this...you can learn to take bearings and you thereby will be able to track along almost any terrain! However, one must be careful...the magnetic energy that the needle detects can be emanated and distorted by local anomalies and the presence of metal objects or power lines and cables. Even staples in a map book may distort the reading, so it is always advisable to take a reading in several places...just to confirm that there are no local disturbances acting upon the needle." with a happy nod and friendly smile, she seems to wish John to mimic the action. "Come, sir...try it, please!"

John follows along with Martha as she demonstrates, watching her hands move over the compass trying to memorize the the movements.

So apparently knowing which way is North has something to do with the Coils...maybe. Oh God, is this Karate kid? Where instead of "wax on, wax off" its "hold the compass like so".

Once he has the compass ready and finds magnetic north he nods and looks to Martha.

"Ok, got it." He says simply, his eyes filled with confusion and interest. He really wanted to know where Martha was going with this.

Martha watches. She had more to say about using a compass, but she felt that could wait. Letting a silence settle as she nodded to John. "That's correct, sir...remember: allow the compass needle to move on a level plane...that's it! Taking an azimuth reading from a faulty needle will almost be as bad as having no compass at all!" she offers again "Now...direction...orientation! These are crucial, sir, when one is learning...when one is doing anything, in fact. You must ask yourself: where am I? Where are am I heading to....what is my destination? What manner of terrain shall I be traveling through? Are there good and accurate maps of the region I can have access to? What tools and equipment can help me arrive?" she smiles. Hoping the first symbols are obvious. "You wish to work for the Future and wish, no doubt, to improve yourself! But...are there immediate goals, sir? What tools can help you...what is the nature of the physical and intellectual terrain you shall be passing through? As I shall be traveling this journey with you...I should be interested to know your thoughts on these questions, sir!" a happy smile. She carefully lets her compass hang around her neck on its lanyard now as she watches John with wide and friendly eyes.

John thinks about it for a moment before answering, "Well when it comes to tools, we've have got our combined intelligence, and the fact that at this point, honestly...it's going to take a lot to phase me...I think I have seen maybe more than most folks can handle."

He stops for a moment collecting himself, not wanting to go back to that place, to the things he has done and seen in the last seven months. "I also have a pretty damn good memory, and your experience with this already considering your a Supplicant and all, so you have done something like learning a Coil, when it comes to physical stuff well, we have a whole library at our disposal."

He chuckles and gestures to the room they were standing in, then he gets a little serious.

"As for this Terrain: I have never been in this jungle before. Not just with the learning the Coils, but just this organization in general, I mean I have learned the titles but there is still stuff I don't know. Like, I know that the former Grand Wyrm was a Sworn of the Dying Light, by the way you describe what each sworn did, the Axe as enforces, the Dying Light being the leaders, and the Mysteries being diplomats. Honestly at some point I think I would like to join them, but at the same time, I know nothing about them. On top of all of this I don't even know what the connections between us and Dracula are. How did he learn the Coils? How did he become a vampire? Are the history books about him while he was alive really true? Was he some sort of blood crazed monster who impaled people for his own amusement? Also what are the odds that Bram Stoker 'just so happened'," He adds air quotes around the term "just so happened","to get the whole 'Dracula is a vampire' thing, right with out somebody spilling the beans to him in the first place?"

He stops himself again realizing that he was just rambling, he chuckles and then continues,

"I guess what I'm trying to say is: when it comes to terrain for me, I don't even have a rough sketch of where I am and just walking in circles. So, the first thing I need to do is, establish where I am, and were exactly do I want to go, while at the same time know where I came from." He smiles, waiting to hear Martha's feedback.

Martha listened with great interest. She noted the focus on the Coils...the adoption of the geographic metaphors and the questions about Dracula. A careful nod. She rubbed at the knee joint of her C-Leg as her flesh leg dangled playfully and swung as she sat perched on the edge of the desk. "Hmm. I see, sir. Before we go any further, I wish to tell you something. Several things, in fact. Diderot, the French encyclopedist, writer and philosopher of the Enlightenment wrote once: I love any philosophy that lifts up Man.' The great Plato reports in the 'Apologia' upon the death of his mentor that the equally great Socrates was fond of remaking: 'ho de anexetastos bios ou biôtos anthrôpôi — ὁ δὲ ἀνεξέταστος βίος οὐ βιωτὸς ἀνθρώπῳ'" she said this in the original Hellenic Greek with careful pronunciation. Playful and busy hands gesture for patience as she translates; "Which translates, sir, roughly, as: the life which is unexamined is not worth living." a smile. "You would do well to keep these quotes in mind, sir! The Coils are an outward and inward side effect of our struggle to be Mistress and Master of our Beast and weakness!" she pats playfully at her satchel and swings her flesh leg in an equally playfully way. "You see, they are useful...the are vital ingredients in the conquest of weakness, but they are not all there is. Now...you raise questions of history. History is, of course, the study of origins. You are right to query the history of our Order...Hmmm...I shall speak more of this in a moment, but hold still a second, please..." a smile again as she pauses, lifting a dainty hand to pause John's replies for a moment too. She plays with her spectacles and adjusts them, peering over them to study John for a moment. Examining his Aura.

[Martha Villiers]

Sadly, her examination of his aura proved inconclusive. She decided to adjust her spectacles and press on.

"Well, sir...History. I promised we would talk of history, and so we shall. Allow me, first, please, to set the scene for tonight's symposium." she begins her parable with a happy smile and an adjustment of her spectacles on her nose. "History is, as I hinted at earlier, the study of origins. We should always ask ourselves: how did something come to be? Whom was involved...and to what extent did they, as a group or as individuals, influence the sequence of events that caused a situation to emerge. History, some argue, is a process. Others a synthesis. Others argue it has come to an end...that though last theory is merely a Post-modern conceit and intentionally provocative as a statement." she giggles happily. “How far can one trust one's sense of history? If we ask ourselves, for example, about the origins of the Cold War...we might, after evaluating the evidence and thinking upon the matter further, with good reason and equally sound judgment, consider that the Cold War commenced at the closure of the Yalta Conference. Whereby the East and the West became locked in practical and ideological conflict. Other historians, of no lesser quality and intellect, might adequately marshal an argument to ably convince an audience that the Cold War actually began in 1917 at the end of the Revolution and the slaughter of the Tsar and his family!" she trembles slightly and busy hands play carefully with her twin tails.

Martha pauses to let these words settle into John's thinking before she commences with bright eyed delivery. Busy hands flutter to punctuate her sentences; "When we study an event, in many ways, the origins vanish ever deeper into the past...like a mirage in a desert. But, sir, this metaphor in no way invalidates the quest. Now, sir, allow me to out line a matter of history for you. I shall speak one deliberate untruth in the narrative I shall outline to you next. Your work shall be two fold, sir. Once we end our tutorial this evening: one task I shall set you will be to isolate that untruth and report back to me what I said that was an outright lie. I may make errors of fact that are unintentional...that I cannot have a contingency for except diligence of study." Martha swings her flesh leg playfully as she rubs at her knee joint once more. "The second, we shall discuss after I have finished by essay to you and we have exchanged questions and answers. Now..." she begins again, “cast your mind back, if you will, to the last days of the Ford Administration, sir. Imagine the situation...it is 1975. At the time the Soviet Union is the apparent primary military and ideological opponent of the United States. As enemies: their ideologies appear mutually exclusive and, worse, they seem to be - both militarily and sociologically - implacable foes. Vast nuclear arsenals threaten each other with imminent extermination. The military alliances of NATO and the Warsaw Pact are facing each other in apparent enmity across the frontiers of central and eastern Europe. But President Ford wishes to seek détente...by which, I am sure you know, we mean: peace." a happy smile at the thought. "We can reasonably ask: why does the President want this? Well, aside from the obvious benefits of offering safety and security to all Mankind, maintaining a superior military industrial complex is immensely expensive. By 1976 the world has suffered an economic calamity of the oil crisis, to name but one incident. The United States, by which I mean the controlling mind of President Ford, wishes to come to the peace table and negotiate with the Soviet leaders about reducing the arsenal of nuclear weapons possessed by each adversary. A noble intent, I think you will agree, sir!"

"Furthermore, the President had recently inherited an Administration badly damaged by the retreat from Vietnam. Foreign policy was in disarray. Internationally, American prestige was waning. The nuclear deterrent had not actually deterred Soviet expansionist attitudes in terms of their proxy support in Vietnam and Laos...any more than the equally numerous Soviet nuclear arsenal had dampened the appetite for the American's to try to thwart Communist governance in South East Asia. Let us also not forget the sad time of Watergate and the ignominious departure of the Nixon Administration. President Ford is focusing his thinking upon peace. Peace will win America back prestige. Peace will atone and restore luster to the Office of President. An Office so long worn ragged by the Watergate affair, the incident at Chappaquiddick and growing suspicions over the circumstances of the assassination of President Kennedy. President Ford has an ally in a senior position whom shares an this train of thought. His trusted National Security Adviser, William Colby who was also the Director of the CIA - has presented to the President a series of three vitally important National Intelligence Estimates during 1975. These National Intelligence Estimates were, and in fact, are, produced by the CIA's expert teams of intelligence analysts. Now for the three NIE's in question these analysts studied the detail of the Soviet military machine and apparatus and, in their NIE's, focused on the threat presented to the United States and her NATO allies by the Soviet intercontinental ballistic missile force. The CIA analyzed, in great detail, the offensive nuclear ballistic missile capability and striking power. These CIA officers were dedicated professionals and absolute experts in their chosen field...most held Doctorates in their field of expertise and they enjoyed full access to the most secret intelligence material available to the most powerful nation on Earth. Their methodology was known to be under some criticism, and was already the subject of internal revision, but the analytical methodology was agreed to be, despite its flaws, an improvement on what had gone before and was also believed to be qualitatively superior to similar estimates and assessments carried out by the parallel agency, the Defence Intelligence Agency. Intelligence was drawn from the CIA's own collection sources, some of the intelligence was gathered personally by senior intelligence officers who fed the information directly back into the Estimate teams. Intelligence was also gathered from allies who, by national agreements, share secret intelligence with the United States: Canada...the United Kingdom...and others. Now...these NIE's assessed that the Soviet war machine, like that of the United States, had become tired and worn out. The Soviet machine, the CIA realized, was becoming drained of resources and beleaguered by internal, and sometimes lethal, frictions...it was badly funded, becoming badly equipped and was consequently suffering from a collapse of morale. The Soviet war machine, these NIE's declared...which were: The Warsaw Pact Forces Opposite NATO; The Soviet Assessment of the U.S and the three volumes of the Soviet Forces for Intercontinental Attack Through the Mid-1980's'...was estimated to be vast and immense in scale and potent: but was becoming increasingly ineffective in war fighting. The threat, in short, was not what it was imagined to be! These NIE's suggested that the Soviet's might even welcome overtures of peace as a means to ending the costly arms race and a cycle of mutually ruinous national spending, amounting to anywhere between 3 or 6 percent of the GNP or each country per annum! This was draining the best resources of both Powers. President Ford, who had inherited an atmosphere of detente from President Nixon, was delighted at this assessment! These NIE's went a long way to suggesting what he had hoped all along: that the Soviet's would share his ideas in peace.”

Tiny Martha offers another smile as she swings her flesh leg. Her bright and eager voice and clear diction outlines more of her essay, which she appears to be extemporizing, "Well, sir, there were opponents to the CIA's analysis. This view, though secret and known only to a small number within the senior ranks of the Pentagon and the Joint Chiefs, was not universally welcomed. In fact, it was scorned." she shakes her head in theatrical dismay. "In fact, sir, I have to say that within the Administration there was a cabal of senior advisers, some as the closet advisers within the Executive Mansion itself, began to advocate that a second set of assessment be carried out. This second series of assessments would, they argued, check the working and findings of the CIA!" she gasps equally theatrically. Her dainty hands flutter.

"How audacious! Well, the CIA's Estimates quickly came to be seen as unreliable. How? How was this authoritative document seen to be in error? Well, there were a series of leaks to newspapers...some of these newspapers were specialist military publications who enjoyed access to some loquacious CIA officers. Although the CIA sought to limit the impression that it had failed to correctly estimate the Soviet threat, which some counter analysis and leaks suggested was much higher than declared and that the Soviet's were spending 40 percent more than the US on defense equipment; the damage was done. The CIA's reputation, already badly tarnished in public and in Washington DC by Colby's disclosures to various Senate Committee's of CIA actions in the 1950's, was now almost beyond repair. It was at this time that Colby resigned and his replacement, George Bush Senior, was appointed to be the new Director of the CIA. It mattered little that President Ford actually supported Colby in his earlier disclosures of CIA activity to the Senate Hearings. Nor did it seem to matter that the CIA has tried to say that the 1975 Estimates, although open to revision and were known to be far from perfect, were..in essence...correct. The data that the mass media, already buoyant and feeling courageous after it's victory over the very Presidential Office itself viz a viz Watergate, sensed a potential sequel success and foolishly, perhaps willfully, exaggerated the leaked reporting that about the Soviets were spending 40 percent greater...even though this intelligence itself came from an unreliable source...a source the CIA desk officers felt was not to be fully trusted...this source being a defector, in fact...this defector was, in all probability, part of an elaborate Soviet counter-intelligence operation anyway..." she shrugs as if this comes as no surprise to her at all.

“Anyway...you will no doubt realize that the President's position on détente is now looking equally unreliable: his argument for pursuing détente being supported largely on the basis of the calm message transmitted by the CIA Estimates of Soviet threat, capability and intentions. Yet here, in the Washington Post and other newspapers, are leaked reports suggesting that the Soviet's appear to be spending more, and doing more, to energetically build up an aggressive infantry and bomber force and also amassing a greater number of powerful ballistic missiles and an inventory of other advanced weapons!” wide eyed, she rubs at her C-Leg's knee joint while her flesh leg swings playfully.

With energy, she continues her extemporized essay; “The President could now be accused, albeit unfairly, of opening the USA to a position of weakness by following his posture of détente!” Martha looks to John, her wide blue eyes peer from behind spectacles and seem to signal that she shared the crisis somehow personally with the President's predicament... "you might well ask: what was to be done? Could the CIA be so wrong? How, and why, could the CIA's Estimate be so far out of synchronization was that of the DIA? Could some review of the intelligence be carried out to verify or falsify the findings of the Estimates? If so: whom would be entrusted to do this review? After all, all the key experts had already participated in the apparently flawed earlier analysis. How could they review their own work and come to anything but the same conclusions? If only to save their reputations they might feel compelled to either lie and conceal any errors they made in their initial Estimate or they would face endless rebuke and perhaps irreparable damage to their reputations for being at fault in their earlier...and internationally crucial...National Intelligence Estimate. It was a dilemma indeed! A problem of Gordian proportions.”

Martha draws breath. She watches John to make sure he is paying attention. Her delivery is careful, her body language designed, naturally and without artifice, to be stimulating to add life to her words. She can be, it seems, an engaging speaker.

“Well, as I was saying a few moments earlier...leaks. These leaks were to product of a set of Hawkish thinkers and advisers to the President. Some of the names will be familiar to you: Donald Rumsfeld...Jeane Kirkpatrick, Richard Brenan, Paul Wolfowitz...to name but a few. These men and women, and their allies, formed a cabal, if you will, of Hawkish and aggressive thinkings who saw the Soviet threat to be a much larger beast. They wished to be equally aggressive in, at least matching, the Soviets. Ford had managed to resist attempts by this team, which operated in the Executive Mansion and the Pentagon as the Committee for the Present Danger...the CPD. Now the core of this Committee was formed at a dinner party in Las Vegas in June 1975 and around a core ideology that was both pro-military and anti-Soviet and including some Hawkish retired senior military officers and funded by several millionaire business who supported (and perhaps might benefit from) the concept of their enterprise. This group of conservative strategic thinkers and policy makers were to attend a conference the next day. The co-host for his party was Albert Wohlstetter, an eminent neo-conservative academic and policy analyst. During the next day, the guests join the conference on “Arms Competition and Strategic Doctrine”and Wohlstetter, commencing their project, slyly uses carefully and selectively declassified intelligence data to accuse the Pentagon of systematically underestimating Soviet military threat. In fact, Wohlstetter intended to publish his arguments in the Wall Street Journal, Foreign Policy magazine, and Strategic Review. In July, respected Cold War figure Paul Nitze will re-use Wohlstetter’s thesis in testimony before the House Armed Services Committee to accuse Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger, and the CIA of dangerously underestimating both the Soviet military strength and intentions.”

“Well, as I say, the men and women at this dinner party went on to form the CPD. At the dinner party something crystallized. They foresaw themselves as people of honor and dignity. It was they alone who had the foresight and courage to see the Soviet threat for what it really was! Somehow these Hawks, all with lucrative links to the petrochemical and defence industry, had talked themselves into believing almost anything about the Soviets. In early 1976 these men, secure now in senior positions in the Executive Mansion, approached the new Director of the CIA: George Bush..the elder of the two. Bush, with some hesitancy, agreed to allow the CPD sponsored team to perform what is known as a Red Team Analysis. Or, if you prefer, a contrary intelligence assessment. The purpose of which is usually to imagine the greatest dangers and threats the enemy can pose and use war games to play out various scenarios to see how well the NATO and friendly forces, the Blue Team, perform against the adversarial Red Team.” another smile to John. “Now, Rumsfeld had the idea to perform a Team B analysis of the Soviet threat. With his team they went through the whole of the same intelligence that the CIA analysts had These civilians enjoyed unprecedented access to the most secret intelligence the CIA had on the Soviet regime. When the Team B analysis was published, secretly of course, in November 1976, it found the the CIA's Team A analysis was wrong in almost every regard. Team B found that the CIA had ignored the threat from secret Soviet beam energy weapons, extraordinary submarines and space based laser weapons!” her hands fan out to show a theatrical anxiety about these weapons, “When Team A was asked why they had not reported on these super-secret, super-dangerous threats, they replied that they had seen no intelligence to suggest that such weapons existed. Team B, when asked why they did report on the weapons when there was no intelligence to support their claims, replied that the absence of evidence was only more testimony to the failure of the inept CIA to find these weapons and also an equal testimony to the guile and stealth of the Soviet regime to be able to conceal such weapons.” she laughs merrily. “Of course, we now know that the original Team A Estimates were correct in almost every detail. The Team B Estimates were likewise wrong in almost every detail and, in fact, essentially presented a work of science-fiction to the President. Yet it was conclusions of Team B's absurd Estimate which, for years, under the Administrations of Reagan and Bush, dominated the Foreign Policy of the United States and informed it's decision making process for defence spending. They successfully advocated the view that to meet these threats the United States should increase its ballistic missile forces...develop their own advanced weapon systems and, generally, adopt a tougher posture towards the Soviets and have a military force of corresponding power to support this posture.”

“Well, I have talked at some length...and I hope you were paying attention! So...sir, what can we learn from this?” she smiles. Her hands rest playfully on her knees. Her flesh leg swings cheerfully. Her blue eyes watch John with care.

John was quiet for a very long time going over everything that Martha had just said. Even then he was not totally sure if he had caught everything. He almost felt a little worried because now he would have to go back and figure out what was "wrong" with her story.

"Well that is certainly a lot of take in, I'll have to go over and rethink it to give a you a full answer, but the immediate things I can take away from it aside from a much more in depth history of the the Cold War than most people know, has got to be that, even when the most qualified and respected people of their field do exactly what their training and experience has taught them and create a work that is correct and factual, they can be brought down and discredited through petty bias and politics." John responds, still thinking over the story.

Martha nods and smiles an encouraging smile. A happy hand gesture seems to encourage John to keep talking and thinking. "Quite so, sir...and what else can you derive from this narrative?"

John continued to think he was unsure what exactly Martha was trying to pull out of him. This time he takes more of a guess rather than a completely thought out answer. "Sometimes the way to win an argument is not how right you are, but the people you know? I apologize, I'm not sure what exactly you are looking for me to say."

John had to just say it as it is. Martha was leading him down a maze of thoughts and ideas where he had no idea where she was taking him. It was clear that the moral of this story was important, but he was just not getting it.

Martha laughs happily. "I'm not looking for you to say something just to please me, sir! That is fully the wrong approach! This is the beginning of your Quest for wisdom and knowledge...not an exercise in pleasing me! Now, let us talk about the parable at hand. Before we continue...did you have any questions about the matter I have just outlined?" she offers a gentle, happy and encouraging smile.

Ok, So Martha's angle is not so much teacher student more of student/student working on a project together. Except that this other student assigned homework.

John then reply's to Martha's question, "So just to clarify - there was something in the story that was wrong and you would now like me to go back and find the piece of incorrect info?"

"Yes, sir...as homework, if you will. I told you one fact that was, in fact, incorrect. You need not answer right away. The essential narrative remains intact though. What I told you that was wrong in no way alters the overall purpose of the parable." another happy smile. "I also wanted to try to coax you into thinking about history in a critical manner, sir." a smile again as she rubs at the knee joint of her C-Leg. "Did you have other questions?" a bright smile.

John shakes his head, "Nope not at the moment, please go on."

He smiles. He had a better idea as to where Martha was going now.

"Thank you. Well...I wondered, sir: what else struck you about the parable? What other lessons do you think you can derive from it?" She hadn't realised quite how opaque her narrative might appear and hoped the lesson she planned to share wasn't buried too deeply.

John thinks again for a moment and then answers, this time with a little more certainty.

"Well aside from the many 'morals' we can take away from this story, from a more historical perspective we can determine that this could the possible origin for how the U.S. deals with other nations today: as a very hostile and often times aggressive where every nation is under suspicion of treachery until they 'prove' otherwise, or to quote the more recent Bush that was in the White House 'you're either with us or against us.' One could also point to this as be the beginning of the decline of the News Media, taking leave of reporting the news as it is, to a more sensational format. Where instead of trying to find the truth for the betterment of the people, the media prefers to play a more of a 'got ya' game of who is in what scandal for the sake of ratings. Finally, if you really want to stretch it, this could be the possible reasoning behind President Bush's decision for the Iraq war. Were instead of trusting the Intel given to him, that there are no WMDs, he is encouraged by the Hawks of his cabinet, the very same people you mentioned were behind that discrediting of the CIA's findings dealing with the USSR, to invade Iraq anyway. Thus plunging us into a decade long war and taking a Surplus left over by the Clinton administration and turning it into the a huge debit."

John smiles feeling that he had finally hit at what they were looking for, and waits for Martha's response.

Martha nods and smiles. "Leaving aside the fact that you are incorrect about marking the 1970's as the commencement in the decline of the internal standards and external expectations of the news media, you are getting closer to the matter at hand. Namely: the politicized nature of intelligence output. The twisting of facts to suit a political and ideological ends." she smiles happily, genuinely pleased to see John is getting into the swing of things. "You're quite right. The neo-con attitude was one of aggression. They simply couldn't see that the enemy was mostly benign. Your drawing a comparison to the WMD element of the motive for the invasion of Iraq is quite interesting. In the example I drew earlier, Team B had access to the very same facts as Team A. Yet Team B were able to draw a convincing argument for an utterly inaccurate, almost falsified, interpretation of the same situation from these facts. Again, you hit the correct reading by mentioning 'who you know' being important in exploiting a media eager to hear bad things about the CIA and hence advocate their Team B thesis against a CIA already badly discredited. The authors of Team B found that the weakness of the CIA's reputation was to their advantage in selling their Hawkish thinking." a happy smile. John was doing well.

John does in internal fist pump in his mind. Score one for John!

"So, when we look at history we have to be careful not to fall into these traps of flawed logic to match ideology, while at the same time be sure that when we present information, it is be visually pleasing while at the same time correct so we don't get trapped like the people of Team A against Team B."

It could have gone with out saying, but John wants to see where Martha is going in her thinking as well.

"Flawed logic? Well, that is one way of seeing it. The facts were there for both Team A and Team B. Team B chose, quite purposefully, to present the facts with entirely erroneous conclusions associated with them. Easily done when an intelligence picture is incomplete. History can be very much the same, but usually relies more on evidence and fact than the guess work sometimes necessary in intelligence operations. As to the matter of presentation, sir...a good and clear presentation of an argument never hurt anyone, sir. But, please, never, ever, let style overwhelm substance. Therein is the craft of the confidence trickster, the televisual-evangelist and any number of charlatans!" she giggles merrily and fiddles playfully with the whip as she collects it from her side.

John's eyes drift to the whip for a moment and then back up to Martha and nods.

"Of course I understand, So what's next on tonight agenda?" He ask with some enthusiasm.

Having satisfied her amusement with playing with the whip, she lays it back across her lap, holding it there with dainty hands. Smiling at John with sweet and eager friendliness, she adds, "Well, sir...I wished to talk to you about one of the study methods used by the Ordo Dracul." she smiles. "It is called Following the Dragon's Tail."

Finally! We talking about the Dragons! John thinks to himself. "I'm all ears." John says enthusiastically.

With a smile Martha nods and lets her twin tails wobble. "Well, sir, it is a teaching method of the Ordo. It trains the student to try to detect the subtle impact, or even not so subtle, impact of events into the future. Not only that, but the lessons can multiply and flow in endless variation! Now, the traditional approach is for the Mentor..." and here she playfully uses the coiled whip to point to herself, "...takes the Slave...." she gestures with greater seriousness now to John with the whip, "on a Hunt. During the Hunt the student will be invited to murder their Prey." she pauses to examine with wide eyes peering over the rims of her spectacles, John's reaction to this.

And with that, John freezes. If his heart had been beating it would have skipped a beat.

There is a long silence.

Murder...? Hasn't there been enough killing already?

Despite all the death that surrounded John, he had still yet to actually kill anyone. If by luck or by divine providence he has been able to at least keep that one thing. This one thing, that he was able to tell to himself that he was not a complete monster. John knew that once something like that happens there will be no turning back on that path he would officially be 100% vampire, 100% predator, 100% monster. At least in John's mind.

"Mistress Villiers...did your mentor take you on an exercise like this?" John's voice comes out slow and hesitant.

Martha is still a good person, right? She's not a heartless bastard like most of everyone else is, Right? Maybe there is some sort of bright side to this... like... maybe they'll kill a pimp, and see what good that causes. I don't know?!

Martha watches John as he freezes. She plays with her whip during the silence. Twisting the coil of leather in her hands in a gentle way. Watching John over the rims of her spectacles.

"Well, in a manner of speaking, sir...yes, he did. In a manner of speaking. Why, sir? Do you fear that I shall now ask you to do something dreadful? That I shall invite you to murder somebody?" she asks with seeming innocence.

[Martha Villiers]

John nods slowly,

"That is what seems to be implied, but something is now telling me that this is not the case." He says with some hesitance.

With that John notices something about himself, the mere mention of murder now makes him jump now. Has he been screwed up that much by the stuff that's been happening? The simple answer is, yes. The innocence has been lost, John is only pretending that it isn't, Death has been on John's mind a lot lately, and how fragile mortals were.

Martha nods gently. "I see, sir...and why do you not suspect something else? Are there any thoughts you wish to share with me, sir? This is a moment we can take to learn and grow..." her words trail off, but her invite to talk about all of this seems sincere.

John places his hands on the back of his head and sighs.

"I just don't know anymore..."

He trails off for a moment, taking a few steps away from Martha, moving over to a table and leans against it.

"Mortals, they're so fragile so easy to manipulate and destroy. I learn that every night I hunt. Maybe it has something to do with being Daeva, but this is getting too easy for me. If I want a human to love me it's just a snap of my fingers..." John snaps his fingers for effect, "...and it's done. I can do whatever I want to mortals, bind them, manipulate them, the only thing I have left is I won't kill them, but sense everything that has happened I have to wonder if that's really true anymore. Am I really innocent from those things, or am I just telling myself that so I don't open some sort of flood gates and really start doing the slow crawl down to depravity that my Clan is so well known for?"

John pauses as if in deep thought. "This is sort of why I feel like I need to learn the coils, sooner rather than later, I don't want to lose myself but I can already feel it happening." he pauses again,"But to get to your question, I think it's mostly because I keep expecting this final wall to fall and I'm just trying to prepare for it, where I will be ordered to kill a mortal and I won't be able to refuse, or one night I get to excited with feedings and end up killing the girl that I'm with. What then? Will that be it? John will be one hundred present heartless kindred, narcissistic to the core seeing mortals as nothing more than objects for my own amusement? That's clearly what happened to my Sire, so why not me?"

John sounded very calm, there was no great outpouring of emotion. If anything it sounded more like mild concern. For John it was only a matter of time, now he had to ask himself, what would he do when it came? He had not given up, but he was definitely tired of fighting it: the very nature of Clan Daeva.

Martha listened carefully. Trying to see in John where his tensions and anxieties are. She nods as she begins to try to understand. "I see, sir. Control. Elements and aspects of self control: these things will help you, sir, will help to confine your Bestial wants and needs and restrain the baser instincts. These are the very things the Coils enable us to do. The Narcissistic and Hubris tainted Fate you allude to of your Sire shall not befall you, sir, for you are taking an important step towards self-awareness." she smiles sweetly and her flesh leg swings playfully, but her words have a sincerity and power of her presence. "You are wise enough to recognize it and equally brave enough to wish to grasp that very key element the Delphi Oracle alerted us all to...words inscribed in the stone of the Oracle sanctuary...the first principle of all Knowledge. The Key to wisdom: γνῶθι σεαυτόν [[she pronounces it in the original ancient Greek as: gnōthi se-auton, before translating to English]] - know thyself." a happy, sweet, smile.

John nods, "Right, but I can only hope that I gain that insight before it's too late. Any night from now the Sheriff or his Deputies are going to call me again to work on a case with them, and I may be ordered to kill someone, what am I to do then? Follow my orders without question, like the Nazi's did when they were told to exterminate the Jews? Or do I refuse, as I have before and suffer ridicule from my peers, or even potential punishment for defying the orders of an officer of the domain? For me this is my last bastion, the fact that I can say, yes I manipulate mortals, and play with them like I am a cat with a ball of yarn, I alter their emotions so that they will do anything I want, BUT..." he pauses, leaning forward to press his point. "...I will not take their life. I have no right to do that, 'cause I have already done enough to them as it is." he then leans back, waiting for Martha's response.

Martha nods and rubs at her knees as she thinks about this. "I see, sir. You wish to preserve life. Very honorable. Very correct. I doubt the Reeve and his Deputies will call on your help again, sir. If you have shown yourself to be unwilling to follow orders or to kill at their behest, then I doubt they will rely on you in future except under the most extreme of requirements. In which case, I daresay it will be kill or be killed anyway." she said with care. "I won't ask you to kill except in the situation that to do so will spare the life of others against an apparent threat. But, we are creatures who require Blood...our hemophagia always runs the risk of going too far! The study of the Coils of the Dragon will help you master these weaknesses and flaws in our condition. We can strive to correct the imperfections. But you must understand, there are no shortcuts. You must work with me on our studies...as we are tonight. What I spoke of earlier had direct purpose to our work. It builds to a wider whole, you see. Do not be impatient." she says with wide eyes. Still rubbing hard at her crippled knee, she adds, "Sir, I won't frivolously ask you to kill...not as part of the study of Following the Dragon's Tail. Do you think me a dreadful monster, sir?" she peers at John over the rims of her spectacles. "Perhaps you thought I was about to command you to murder someone! You must trust me. I am not intentionally capricious in matters of life or death. If you cannot trust me, sir...you cannot trust anyone! You really must learn to trust me...I thought we had established this already." there was a note of hurt and disappointment in her voice.

John nods again, this time looking at the ground.

"Yes, I know. I guess it's just that old habits die hard. As I told you, my sire was very narcissistic and self serving. She killed me the same night a graduated from college, and then after that did nothing but abuse and neglect me, as well as our relationship as Sire and Childe. She was supposed to be my mentor, in this tough time transitioning into my Requiem. But instead I was only a thing for her amusement. Unfortunately from that I learned how to fear Elders and to distrust their word."

John looks back up again,

"I'm sorry."

He says simply, looking into her eyes. there was hurt there, years of confusion, pain, and neglect all doubled with the struggle to maintain his sanity, against the constant goading of the beast.

For a moment, just for a moment, Martha's Beast urged her to use the whip in her hand on John while crying out the word: pathetic!

She hated herself for the way her Beast reacted. Choking back that brutal imagining, Martha nodded and smiled to John. Unseating herself from her perch on the table, she held the whip tight as she limped over to John. Her limp heavy. Sometimes the hold of a friend is important. She smiled and meekly put her slender arms about John to show a unity of the moment and her peaceful intentions.

John could not help but notice, that for a moment there was something that came over Martha. Something that wasn't her, at least the Martha he knew, and then is passed. Then, she gently hugged him.

What just happened?

John thinks to himself, and he hugs her back saying nothing just letting the moment happen.

Perhaps, even after all of her training in the Ordo, she still fights the Beast just as hard as me.