"So you didn't. And Mia? Did you tell her about Mia, and the casde banqueting hall?"
"Yes," Roland said. "I think hearing that depressed her but didn't surprise her. There was the other - Detta - ever since the accident when she lost her legs." It had been no accident, but Roland hadn't gone into the business of Jack Mort with Callahan, seeing no reason to do so. "Detta Walker hid herself well from Odetta Holmes. Eddie and Jake say she's a schizophrenic." Roland pronounced this exotic word with great care.
"But you cured her," Callahan said. "Brought her face-to-face with her two selves in one of those doorways. Did you not?"
Roland shrugged. "You can burn away warts by painting them with silver metal, Pere, but in a person prone to warts, they'll come back."
Callahan surprised him by throwing his head back to the sky and bellowing laughter. He laughed so long and hard he finally had to take his handkerchief from his back pocket and wipe his eyes with it. "Roland, you may be quick with a gun and as brave as Satan on Saturday night, but you're no psychiatrist. To compare schizophrenia to warts. . . oh, my!"
"And yet Mia is real, Pere. I've seen her myself. Not in a dream, as Jake did, but with my own two eyes."
"Exactly my point," Callahan said. "She's not an aspect of the woman who was born Odetta Susannah Holmes. She is she ."
"Does it make a difference?"
"I think it does. But here is one thing I can tell you for sure: no matter how things lie in your fellowship - your ka-tet - this must be kept a dead secret from the people of Calla Bryn Sturgis. Today, things are going your way. But if word got out that the female gunslinger with the brown skin might be carrying a demon-child, the folken'd go the other way, and in a hurry. With Eben Took leading the parade. I know that in the end you'll decide your course of action based on your own assessment of what the Calla needs, but the four of you can't beat the Wolves without help, no matter how good you are with such calibers as you carry. There's too much to manage." Reply was unneccessary. Callahan was right. "What is it you fear most?" Callahan asked.
"The breaking of the tet," Roland said at once.
"By that you mean Mia's taking control of the body they share and going off on her own to have the child?"
"If that happened at the wrong time, it would be bad, but all might still come right. "If Susannah came back. But what she carries is nothing but poison with a heartbeat." Roland looked bleakly at the religious in his black clothes. "I have every reason to believe it would begin its work by slaughtering the mother."
"The breaking of the tet," Callahan mused. "Not the death of your friend, but the breaking of the tet. I wonder if your friends know what sort of man you are, Roland?"
"They know," Roland said, and on that subject said no more.
"What would you have of me?"
"First, an answer to a question. It's clear to me that Rosalita knows a good deal of rough doctoring. Would she know enough to turn the baby out before its time? And the stomach for what she might find?"
They would all have to be there, of course - he and Eddie, Jake, too, as little as Roland liked the thought of it. Because the thing inside her had surely quickened by now, and even if its time hadn't come, it would be dangerous. And its time is almost certainly close , he thought. / don't know it for sure, but I feel it. I -
The thought broke off as he became aware of Callahan's expression: horror, disgust, and mounting anger.
"Rosalita would never do such a thing. Mark well what I say. She'd die first."
Roland was perplexed. "Why?"
"Because she's a Catholic!"
"I don't understand."
Callahan saw the gunslinger really did not, and the sharpest edge of his anger was blunted. Yet Roland sensed that a great deal remained, like the bolt behind the head of an arrow. "It's abortion you're talking about!"
"Yes?"
"Roland... Roland." Callahan lowered his head, and when he raised it, the anger appeared to be gone. In its place was a stony obduracy the gunslinger had seen before. Roland could no more break it than he could lift a mountain with his bare hands. "My church divides sins into two: venial sins, which are bearable in the sight of God, and mortal ones, which are not. Abortion is a mortal sin. It is murder."
"Pere, we are speaking of a demon, not a human being."
"So you say. That's God's business, not mine."
"And if it kills her? Will you say the same then and so wash your hands of her?"
Roland had never heard the tale of Pontius Pilate and Callahan knew it. Still, he winced at the image. But his reply was firm enough. "You who spoke of the breaking of your tet before you spoke of the taking of her life! Shame on you. Shame ."
"My quest - the quest of my ka-tet - is the Dark Tower, Pere. It's not saving this world we're about, or even this universe, but all universes. All of existence."
"I don't care," Callahan said. "I can't care. Now listen to me, Roland son of Steven, for I would have you hear me very well. Are you listening?"