Once he was comfortable, Benedict let out a heavy sigh. "Sinclair, the concept of humanity takes many forms. Enhancements are no better—or worse—than a lack of empathy. When we discuss humanity, we must be careful we do not assume to know God's intentions, my boy. And your altered body wasn't done by your choice. That means it is not your burden to bear, but mine."
Because when he'd been rushed to the hospital, Sin had been unconscious. The Praetor himself had authorized any necessary life-saving efforts, including enhancement. The Legion had covered the costs—at least for the surgery. When he'd passed out, Sin had honestly believed he was about to die, and yet he'd woken up as a whole man. One who had to relearn much of his new body, but still very whole and functional.
"Whose burden my enhancements are doesn't mean I can't see the advantages, or the appeal," he pointed out.
"Yet you didn't choose a full cybernetic arm?" Benedict countered. "You haven't replaced your other eye? By now, you could have easily had your synthetics re-skinned to look more natural. Brother Sinclair, familiarity with temptation only allows you to understand the reasoning of our disciples. It does not doom you for all eternity. There is a reason our God forgives. It's because we can never be perfect. Not even me."
"I can only pray that is so," Sin replied, bowing his head. "Father, I have come to ask a question."
"Not to seek confession?" The Praetor asked, a teasing tone to his voice.
Sin chuckled. "No, I haven't quit smoking yet. I did confess my addiction to Brother Trent, who has given me penance."
"Ah, I should have known you would turn to him." Benedict leaned back, steepling his fingers before him.
"It's convenient," Sin said. "Brothers Trent, Rob, Davis, and Sister Julie are often available when I need them. We do work together often."
The old man merely smiled. "The word you're looking for, my boy, is friends. Being a priest does not prohibit such things, you know."
"No, but our duties often do," Sin replied, because those four weren't simply friends.
In truth, the five of them had grown close because they all harbored the same fears about how the church had been evolving recently. Something about it didn't feel right. Lately, it seemed as if corporations were being given the lion's share of the attention, and those in real need were pushed aside.
So they'd formed a group. No, they didn't have regular meetings, but if someone needed a second opinion, they knew a safe person to ask. Together, they'd all been watching, takingnote of things that didn't fit with what they'd been taught the church should be concerned with. So far, no one could explain why something felt wrong, but it still did, and they intended to figure it out.
Benedict nodded solemnly, giving in. "So tell me more about your assignment. Have you figured out why they only wanted your protection foroneof these Ingénues? Do they intend to ask for more?"
"That's actually why I'm here," Sin muttered, rubbing at his face. The way he'd phrased that was just a little too close to one of the options the girl had predicted, and it made him uncomfortable. Never before had he doubted the leader of his faith, but something was clearly going on. "I've been given almost no information freely. OutLink Corp. acts as if this girl is special, though. Unfortunately, she won't even give me her name. She's proud and contrary, but never says a single thing unless she has to. And yet…" He sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not being a very good priest when it comes to this assignment."
"I'm sure you'll find the right path," Benedict assured him.
Sin bowed his head, shifting his hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. "I alternate between disgust and compassion with her. I think once I'm more accustomed to the responsibility, I'll know better how to guide and protect her."
"Mm. Does she solve problems for you?" Benedict asked.
Sin felt a moment of shock race through him. His angel had said the Praetor wanted an answer, and the old man sounded entirely too interested in getting one. A million reasons why ran through his head, and unfortunately, most of them weren't good. Then again, of the options she'd listed, this was the best.
"She has actually offered to solve one for you, Praetor," he replied.
Benedict’s lips curled into a smile. "Then it seems she's not as robotic as you say. This girl clearly thinks on her own enoughto realize assigning a Legate to a brain-for-hire is not how things are usually done."
"Trust me, I'm very aware of that."
"Good," Benedict said. "The next time you see her, tell the girl my question comes in two parts. First, I'm curious as to what she thinks the purpose of life is. When I hear the answer to that, I will beg her for the second part."
"Beg?" Sin scoffed at the idea. The Praetor was one of the most respected men on all of Tyche. He shouldn't need tobeg.
Benedict simply smiled. "Yes, my boy. Beg. There is no shame in debasing yourself. Even the highest among us have needs. Those needs drive us. Mine is solving a riddle. Yours is understanding a woman."
Sin chuckled. "You make it sound so incredibly mundane like that."
"And what else is life but mundane?" Benedict countered. "Sinclair, I hope you realize this assignment is not a trivial one."
He fought to suppress his groan. "I want to believe that—I honestly do—but I can't see the reason for all of this. There are countless private security companies she could afford. More with OutLink's sponsorship. Her responsibilities aren't ones that benefit all mankind, and she's definitely not trying to alter the fabric of society as we know it. This woman simply gets paid to make companies even richer."
"Is it ever so simple?" Benedict asked.
"Isn't it?" Sin shot back.
