by Chris Walley
One day, God willing, I will look at it. But there’s nothing I can do about it now.
Not very far from where “Adlen’s Testament” was stored, Eliza Majweske walked as quickly as she could down the long, winding corridors of the Suleiman Building in northern Jerusalem. She was late for the private meeting Ethan had called with Advisor Clemant and Prebendant Delastro, freshly arrived from Bannermene.
An armed guard—there were so many of them now—directed her to a doorway. There she paused for a moment, tried to push her ruffled hair into place with a hand, adjusted her dress, and then knocked.
“Come in!” It was Ethan’s voice.
She obeyed and walked into the room. The four men seated there rose. Ethan, his face thin and tired, greeted her with a hug and introduced her to the strangers as “Eliza Majweske, president of the Sentinel Council and an old friend.”
“This is Advisor Lucian Clemant.” The dark-haired man in the black suit bowed slightly and then gave her an odd and rather cursory shake of the hand.
Ethan led her to the other stranger, a tall man, lean to the point of being bony, dressed in a dark clerical robe. “And this is Prebendant Balthazar Delastro.” Eliza saw his face and was struck by the humorless dark green eyes and the tuffs of gray hair that protruded above his ears. Delastro bowed rather stiffly and extended no hand.
“Delighted to meet you,” she said, slightly nonplussed, and turned to the fourth person in the room, Andreas Hmong. He gave her a hug.
“I’m sorry for being late,” Eliza said. “This is an unfamiliar setting. And I was unprepared for the delays on the road. At New Jericho Street, there was a . . .” All of a sudden she was aware that she had no name for it.
“A checkpoint.” Ethan gave a sigh. “Both that and this location were the idea of the DAS.”
He turned to the visitors and gestured them to sit down. “You have realized that we now have a Department of Assembly Security. It has not met with universal acceptance.”
Clemant gave something that might have been a pained smile.
As Eliza sat down, she looked around at the room, noticing the high wooden ceilings, the rich carpet, and the elaborate wall hangings on the stone walls. The windows were shuttered.
“Please, everyone,” Ethan went on, “this is a very informal meeting. I thought it would be good if our guests could tell us about events at Farholme. Personally, and in the knowledge that not every word would be broadcast to billions. Then I thought that the three of us—” he gestured to Andreas and Eliza—“would discuss the implications. Advisor, if you don’t mind, perhaps you would like to tell us your account.”
Clemant began to outline what had happened. Eliza listened carefully and was slightly surprised to find that she learned little that she had not already heard from broadcast interviews. As she listened, she made mental notes. Rather cold and impersonal. Very good with facts and figures—no doubt a superb administrator. A precise but unemotional speaker; he makes the most exciting event since the Rebellion seem dull.
Occasionally, there were questions from Ethan and Andreas. At one point, Ethan leaned over to her. “You are very quiet, Eliza; feel free to ask something.”
She patted his hand. “I’m just listening, Eeth. We haven’t had tales like this for over eleven thousand years.”
Why don’t I want to ask questions? As Eliza thought about it, she sensed very clearly that it was not right to ask. It is as if the Lord is telling me not to ask. How very odd!
As Clemant continued, Eliza made more notes in her mind. He says little that is not rehearsed; he is not a spontaneous man. Even when he talks of Corradon’s death, he seems somehow distanced from it. Interesting how he looks at the prebendant every so often, almost as if he needs encouragement or permission. The dynamics between these two are complex.
As she listened, it came to her how stale and oppressive the air in the room was. It’s not just the room; it’s the city. The first winter rains are due soon. We need a good storm to clear the air.
She realized that Clemant had shifted from his dry account of events to talk about the progressive breakdown of Farholme society that had begun before the main assault. This was a matter that had only been hinted at in the broadcast interviews, and here the advisor showed passion. She sensed he had felt personally threatened by the social rot. As he listed some of the things they had observed on Farholme, Andreas and Ethan glanced at her and each other, and in those looks she saw identification and concern.
“If I may offer some advice,” Clemant said, “it is this. We found many of our structures inadequate. Our world evolved in times when men and women were self-policing, and we needed little in the way of rules. But in the darkness that descended on us, we found it sadly necessary to impose order and direction.” The prebendant gave a severe nod of agreement. “We reinvented the police and a penal code. And we found that we needed to work to create a spirit of unity and dedication. Here the prebendant’s guidance and leadership was invaluable.”
Delastro gave a delicate tilt of his head to acknowledge the praise.
Clemant paused. “That’s really all I wish to say. Strange times and strange solutions.”
Ethan smiled. “Well, they seem to have worked. Thank you, Advisor. I suggest we break for refreshments; then we will hear what the prebendant has to say.”
As they stretched legs and took drinks, Eliza was intrigued to find that neither Delastro nor Clemant seemed to relax. She tried to engage Delastro in conversation, but he made only the briefest of comments. She sensed either fear or dislike. Is it me, the sentinels, or even my gender that troubles him?
They took their seats, and Ethan asked the cleric to speak.
Delastro stood up and began. “It is not really my intention to talk about events—the advisor has done that very ably. Rather, I want to try to look behind them. What do these things mean for us?”
Within a minute, Eliza realized that this was a sermon. Within another minute, she had been so drawn in by his vision, the sweep and tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, and the delicate gestures of his hands that she had forgotten to be analytical.
“I cannot help,” he said, “but see that this is the great challenge to the Assembly in our time. Indeed, I think it is a wake-up call. I think in this the Lord of All is saying to us that we are failing, that we have begun to slumber.”
Eliza tore her eyes away from his passion-filled face and reminded herself that she had to evaluate what she was hearing. She saw that the others were utterly engrossed. Andreas, in particular, seemed to be following the speech with such attention that she felt a physical act would have been needed to break his concentration.
On and on Delastro spoke. Finally, inexorably, he moved toward a climax. “The Assembly, that grand and blessed collaboration of God and man, must be saved. And how must it be saved? Analysis will not save it. Equipment will not save it. Not even armies will save it. It will be saved by these three things: purity, dedication, and unity.”
He ended, and for a long moment there was no sound, only a stunned silence. Then Andreas began clapping. Ethan followed, and Eliza, somewhat to her surprise, found herself joining in. As the prebendant sat down and sipped from his glass of water, she tried to consider what she had heard.
He is a master of words. He can pile up phrases for the very best effect. He uses spiritual language with a great deal of sensitivity. But he is ambiguous and, in reality, what exactly has he said? She decided that it was a measure of the man that one felt guilty even raising such a question.
Ethan looked around. “Any questions?”
Andreas just beamed and shook his head.
“Eliza?”
“No.” She was surprised at her answer but felt oddly assured that it was the right one.
“Well, let me ask one,” Ethan said. “You encourage unity. Good! But how did the disunity manifest itself?”
Of course; Eeth’s own particular problem.
Delastro tilted his he
ad as he considered the question. “Chairman, it was like a virus. It occurred at every level. There was no way of predicting where and what the next case would be. Amid the most extraordinary sacrifice and courage, without warning one got the most dreadful rebellion and disobedience. People put themselves first rather than the blessed Assembly that the Son of God died to create. It went from top to bottom, from the man on the street to the highest in the defense force.”
Ethan frowned. “‘The highest in the defense force’? Is that a figure of speech?”
Delastro looked at Ethan with his piercing green eyes and shook his head in a sad way. Yet Eliza felt a sudden certainty that he had said more than he meant to. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an odd expression of alarm flit swiftly across Clemant’s face.
“It happened?” Good for you, Ethan.
The prebendant gave a mournful sigh. “Yes. It happened. A sad case. A case so sad that I prefer not to recount it. It almost broke my heart. This Merral D’Avanos—who had begun so promisingly—started to disobey and act without authority. It was at the end of the great struggle of Tezekal Ridge. He would not obey directives from the advisor.” Clemant nodded agreement. “We had to remove him from duty.”
“Extraordinary. Did you have to resort to a . . . what’s the word?”
“Court-martial?” There was a dismissive wave of the hand. “No, I made allowances for the heat and the effects of the battle. When you have faced wave after wave of oncoming Krallen, relentless in their inhuman desire to tear you apart, you realize that some people cannot take it. No, mercy triumphed over judgment. We had him quietly posted to a recuperation facility away from the front line, where he probably still is. But a salutary tale, Chairman. Disloyalty can occur at any level. It is a virus that must be resisted and fought.”
“Indeed,” Ethan said and rose to his feet. “Now, if our guests would excuse us, I think the three of us need to talk. But before we do, I have a single question for each of you. I think I am not overstepping my limits to say that we all see your coming as a blessing.”
You may indeed be overstepping, Eeth.
“At a time of need,” the chairman continued, “you have come bringing hope and encouragement, and we want to make the best use of that. The question is how? Advisor Clemant, how should we use you to the best effect?”
The advisor seemed to consider matters. “I like to think that I played some part in the victory at Farholme. Here? Here, I would be glad to retain my title of advisor and to serve on whatever committees and organizations you think I could most help.”
“Good. Very good. Prebendant, what about yourself?”
“I am but a servant, and I am happy to serve where I am sent. But if I may speak boldly, it seems to me that I have been given the gift of inspiring and encouraging by words. And if I may speak more boldly still, as I have read and listened a little to the views held in these days within the Assembly, I have heard much that worries me.” He hesitated, as if troubled by his own audacity.
Eliza found herself strangely unsettled. Something about this man worries me. Is what we see a veneer or a reality?
“Go on,” Ethan said with a look of encouragement.
“I am concerned that there are those who are unprepared for the conflict. I am concerned there are those who are asleep in Zion. I am very concerned that there are those here who oppose the strengthening of the Assembly.”
How inspired—or clever—to allude to the Counter-Current. She looked at Andreas and saw a hard smile play over his face.
“They take refuge in false logic and fine words, but they play into the hand of our enemy. Now if you—” a bony finger pointed in turn at each of them—“if you believe this, I would ask you a favor. I would ask that I be allowed to speak to the Assembly. The word of the Lord to the worlds of the Lord. I would ask that I be able to address the men and women who serve in these newly created forces. Perhaps we shall find that I am not alone in my desire for purity, dedication, and unity.”
Eliza felt oddly moved by the words. They seemed to both challenge and rebuke her, and she felt almost disgusted with herself for harboring doubts about this man.
His eyes seemed to look to infinity as his words rang out. “Perhaps there are others who would join me in this most holy of tasks? My words may find them and encourage them in these dark days.” He paused. “My desire in this is not that I, in any shape, be blessed. It is that the Assembly, that most precious of things, be preserved.”
Ethan made a gesture of warm appreciation with his hands. “Thank you. Both.”
After the two men left, Ethan, Andreas, and Eliza faced each other around the table. Ethan began. “I meant what I said there. I do see these men as a blessing, and I believe we should use them. But I throw it open. I do not wish to prejudge matters. Eliza?”
“I have—” she began, then stopped. In an extraordinary moment, she seemed to hear a tiny but unambiguous voice in her mind. “Child, do not say what you feel!” She felt an odd certainty that it was the voice of God’s Spirit. She swallowed. “Sorry. I have some concerns. But they are minor.”
No, they are not. She felt puzzlement and anger at her words. I would like to know more about what really happened. I wish they had brought Sentinel Enand back with them. I somehow feel that they are not telling all the truth.
Ethan nodded. “Quite. Now, Andreas, what about you?”
The theologian’s eyes seemed to sparkle. “I’ll be frank. I am very enthusiastic. Very. Clemant, now, is not my sort of person at all. A dry man with no poetry in his soul. Too full of statistics, though I think he will be very useful. But the prebendant? Aah.” He threw his hands wide in appreciation. “If ever a man came for a moment, it is he and now. I think he is remarkable. He is a prophetic figure, an Elijah come again among us. How can we dissent against that triple watchword of purity, dedication, and unity?” His expression threw the challenge out to them. “And he has a gift of language. I could listen to him for hours. And when he spoke of challenge? Why, if I had been younger, he would have had me signing up with the forces immediately.” He looked hard at Ethan. “Chairman, my view is this: Give this man what he wants. And more.”
Ethan said nothing but stared at the tapestry.
“Let me be clear.” Andreas ended the short silence.
And I hope you are not so wounding this time.
“I have been praying for an answer for some of the weaknesses that exist . . . within the leadership. Ethan, I have been blunt toward you there. I apologize. But it seems to me that this combination—Delastro and Clemant—fills those gaps in a mighty way. It strengthens us where we are weak. Not only that, but Delastro will be a powerful weapon in defeating our enemies.”
How worrying that he means the Counter-Current, not the Dominion.
Eliza was abruptly aware that Ethan was looking at her. She was seized by the realization that what was going on was wrong. But again she heard the voice she had taken to be that of the Spirit saying, “Child, hold back. There are things that must be fulfilled.”
In her mind a question surfaced: Do I not do evil by letting wrong happen? The reply came in an instant. “That is my business. I command you, let this pass.”
“Eliza?” Ethan’s voice broke into her thoughts. “I was wondering if you had any final comment.”
“No. I am just . . . bemused by events. No final comment.”
“Very well.” Ethan seemed to have acquired a new confidence. “My suggestions are as follows. Clemant is to become an advisor to the military. I want him to attend as many Defense Force meetings as he thinks are relevant.”
Andreas gave a sharp shake of the head. “No. He’d be more useful in the Department of Assembly Security. K needs help.”
Ethan hesitated for a brief moment. “Yes. I see the logic there. But the Defense Force can use his knowledge.”
“Well then, put him on both: DAS and ADF,” Andreas replied. “He has invaluable experience.”
Ethan looked at
Eliza, but she just shrugged. “Very well; both then. Now, Delastro. Here I am minded simply to turn the man loose. Give him the resources he needs.”
Andreas gave a clap of his hands and began to rise from his seat. “Excellent. Play the prophet!”
Ethan pulled his papers together. “Meeting over.”
How strange, Eliza thought. It all fits together. Ethan wants them because he is weak. Andreas wants them because he sees them as filling the needs he perceives.
And I feel constrained to say nothing.
Ten weary days after the envoy’s visit, it was time for the Star to surface. After consulting with Betafor, Azeras came to Merral. “We are agreed. This is where we can surface, but we will not break out of Below-Space. Not yet. We need to look around first.”
They rose up slowly, and the entire ship’s company celebrated as colors returned. People cheered and prayed and sang, looking at their hands and their clothes. Anya ran her fingers through a lock of her hair and marveled that she saw no gray in it. And as the color returned, Merral felt that something of the depression that had hung over all of them seemed to lift. Yet he couldn’t help forgetting that they now lay all too close to the heart of the Dominion.
As they ascended, Merral put the ship on high alert. The seizure teams were placed on standby, ready to go into action at a moment’s notice. Merral had the uniform of a Dominion captain hung in his office by the bridge and, hung just out of sight of the camera, a reminder of some key Saratan phrases in case his mind went blank. The active panels on the Star were changed and it acquired the emblems of a medical vessel.
Soon it was time to pause the Star, and the shutters over the ports were finally raised to reveal a gray, milky emptiness. Then, under Azeras’s careful eye, a surveillance probe was released from the nose. As they watched, it raced upward out of sight, trailing an almost invisible cable. Half an hour later, it was in place, and images from its eight cameras began pouring in. With Vero and Azeras beside him, Merral stared at the images of worlds, space constructions, and satellites, trying to grapple with what it all signified. As he did this, Betafor, watched carefully by Lloyd, scanned the wavelengths and listened to signals. Once, Merral looked up from the screen and caught Lloyd’s gaze. His aide gave him a slight shake of the head that conveyed utter frustration. Merral nodded. For all we know, she is broadcasting our locality to Nezhuala, but there is little we can do about it; we must trust her.