Zeer slept throughout the morning, well into the afternoon. Paris had recruited the help of their friends and neighbors to keep the news hawks from disturbing him. Once they were safely inside their bus, other vehicles and stands were packed around them so that no one could be near. They went on with their businesses. After all this time, the noise was as comforting as a mother’s song to Paris and Zeer.
Suddenly, everything was dead quiet and everyone was gone. The silence woke Paris. Wondering where they had gone, she looked out and shrugged.
"Paris..." came into her head.
"Coming, darlin..." she thought back. Paris grabbed a tray of food and headed for the sleep room.
Zeer was sitting up on the bed when she arrived. His face looked gaunt and haggard. Not sleeping or eating for three days had aged him terribly. "Thee." was all she heard in the back of her head.
She put the tray on the bedside table. He reached for her. She came to him, nestling in close on the bed. With eyes closed, he held her tightly.
She rubbed tiny circles on his chest, "and Thee. Eat." She always marveled at his lack of hair and how silky his skin was on her tender paws.
He buried his face in the cuve of her long feline neck, "Preacher man wanna snuggles..."
"Rrrroaar. Darlin man, I canna think when thee does that ta me.” She wiggled free remembering how drawn and gaunt he looked on the viddies that she had been watching. “Eat! Thee have no strength for snuggles.”
He looked hurt for a second, "All right." He began eating. He ate like a child would with relish and abandon. In his eyes was a deep contentment. Watching him eat playfully, she felt better.
He finished and went into the loo. He started when he saw his reflection, "Me outside may look like hell's own bats, darlin'; but, me insides have never been better."
"Feed thy insides, maybe thy outsides will look better, too, silly buzz gwump." she said aloud.
He waddled back to his bed and took his tray. "Yes'm," he resumed eating.
"Don't eat so messy. Even heroes need table manners." After dinner, they went for a walk. Everyone they met greeted them as old friends. Some of them stepped back and deferentially bowed low to greet an honored person.
"Yer a star, laddie buck..."
"It's so strange, Dad. I have never belonged anywhere in me life until now."
"I know, son, and I'm sorry."
"Ya canna change life, Dad. It's na yer fault."
Passing through the bazaar, they climbed the terraplast steps to the top of the wall. Holding hands, they leaned on the parapets and looked into the first round edge of Tara's setting double sun.
Stretching out away from the fort in every direction, were the scrub pines and rich grass of the river valley flood plains. Even the humidity was not so bad here as it had been down closer to Space Port City.
"It's so beautiful in the sunset," thought Par.
"Aye, sweets, it is as beautiful as thee."
"Preacher Man talks blarney. Roses could grow in it."
"Ya talk more Emerish every day. Dad's been learnin' ya good."
"Zac was a big help ta me. He told such terrible jokes when I got too sad in the hospital tent from the dead and dying."
"Aye, I heard him. He was tryin' so hard."
"A humble servant does what he can..."
Zeer laughed, "You remain the funniest ghost ever, Dad. Humble, me mother’s wooden leg.”
"He did help keep ma lip stiffed."
He held her close as the suns faded, "Aye, that he did. Thanks, Dad.”
“Ye are very welcome, me son. I am proud of thee as well."
Looking into the sunset, Zeer drifted off. He was staring into the two suns. The people down in the bazaar stopped what they were doing and watched him. Zeer had been studying some the old rituals lately. A few days before the cave in, he had read in his books about the Fire Dancers and some of their ceremonies. Standing here surrounded by this dazzling sunlight, feeling as he did, he understood how the fire dancers must have felt. Their joy in the Lord overwhelmed them. They had to dance.
Without really thinking about it, he spread his arms to catch the light. The setting suns beyond him turned his white robes to golden flame. In a clear tenor voice, he began the "Passage of Souls to Heaven" Songs of the Even Song collection that the Fire Dancer sect always had done.
Trevor and Janni had followed close by them hoping to get an interview. He had become entirely distracted listening to two Emerish voices in his head, wondering where the father was. He jumped as heard the word ghost. Just as Zeer finished talking to his dad, he stopped her short. “Quick, darlin’, point that viddy cam up at the Preacher man. Get this Janni. He's gonna do something. I don't know what, but, I feel it.”
Janni had been both Trevor’s lover and his main camtek for almost three cycles. She knew too much about his insights to balk. She aimed and focused the camera just as the strange Preacher man spread his arms out in she later learned was the "Golden Fire Eagle" stance and began the droning cry of some old song. The sound was perfect. The light behind the old preacher was breath takingly grand. The priest became a black outline in a corona of blazing orange. Once the crowd fell silent, the sound carried even better. She and her precious camera got it all.
She was so excited. For once, she would be the one to get the credit and not Trevor. She could almost taste the Photo awards for this piece of tape. Trevor heard her greed and smiled to himself, “You go, ma cher’. It’s definitely your turn, but, it’s still my story. If awards are passed out, I’ll get my share.”
While she was lining up the shot, he did his part by typing the numbers needed to hook them directly into the satellites to beam this galaxy wide. He spoke softly into the mikes and in a flash; Zeer was all over the viddies again.
All around them, commerce in the bazaar came to a halt. People spoke softly and reverently, "Mishwattan, The Golden Fire Eagle. Looky, the Preacher man’s performing a Fire Dance. I haint seed that since I was a kid." could be heard whispering through the crowd depending on which sect of the Word the people had learned at home. With the world gone suddenly quiet, people came reverently out of their homes and shops to see their new Preacher Man and to pray for the passage of souls.
People all around Janni began kneeling. She wanted to kneel too, but, kept the camera trained on the ceremony. She pulled the view back to show the crowd kneeling beneath the wall with man who was paying them no mind. Trevor continued to talk reverently and quietly into his mikes, giving a minute-by-minute coverage of the stunning events. Then, she pulled slowly forward to show Zeer full screen as he finished singing and knelt at the wall to pray. Paris was overcome. Halfway through the song, she found herself on her knees.
Zac was watching through Trevor Praseer’s eyes, “A thing of beauty, sheer beauty, boyo,” his dad whispered.
“It is the simply the beauty that is written into the Word. I just breathe it.”
“A Preacher Man needs the Rote, It is the Master’s truth. But, more’s the truth that a feller needs a heart fer it, they canna teach that. We canna buy it. Your heart, ma wee sonny boy, breathes truth.”
“I had a good teacher, Daddo. Yer heart was always good, so, what’s not ta believe…”
“Aye, simple, but true.”
Down below, Janni's viddy cam caught it all. Zeer was praying bathed in the sun's gold. He seemed to turn gold himself. All of the people of the bazaar watched their Preacher man as they prayed and sang together for the ones who would no longer be with them.
Zeer rose, suddenly saw the crowd. Without missing a beat, he began to sing in a classic Emerish tenor.
"Our Master...
We thank thee for this life...
Thy gifts are precious to us...
Please guide our lost souls home to thee..."
(the last lines of the “Last Song” he had just sung slowly, so that they could all join in.
People cried and tried to sing. The joined singing was the blessing to be shared by all.
As he finished, the smaller, redder circle of the two suns dropped from view under the parapets. The Preacher man turned from reddish gold as fire to a pale yellow gold. As if to punctuate the moment, the second of the two suns set. He lowered his hands and turned away. He took Paris's hand.
Zeer walked quietly back down the steps. He was still deep within himself. He pulled his hood forward and moved slowly along the wall in the cooling breeze. Paris just held tightly to her man's hand. She was too proud to speak. She had felt the weight of the crowd on the back of her mind. She now felt the love and gratitude of their flock for a beautiful farewell to souls.
“Thee...” was all she could say into his mind as they walked slowly along the wall.
"Thee..." was all she heard. They continued their walk along the wall toward the hospital. The babies were due any day and the medicos wanted to see Par today.
Janni and Trevor finished their reports before the Viceroy and the Papal Vicate arrived. They were already counting their bonuses for this scoop. Trevor knew they had plenty of time. After two cycles in court, Trevor knew the Empra’s oldest brother would take his sweet time. And, as expected, the royals had taken a day and a half to make the three hour journey. The Viceroy hated jump sickness. He also liked to see the planet constabulary sweat, so, he taped all the preparations. He liked to watch these minor napoleans pace and worry over when he would actually show up.
"So, laddie buck. Yer really startin' ta get this Preacher Man stuff."
"Some day, even you, dear father, are gonna have to make that trip."
"Not yet...not yet...I must know where ma wee Shannie is first."
A guardian walked up to them. He had been waiting for the ceremony to be over before intruding. He was a Paronese Corporal. He was in awe. This man before him was no ordinary Earther. This man was, like them, able to do mental speech. Also like Trevor, he would act as though he knew nothing for the sake of his Vow. "Kind Father..." he said softly aloud.
"Yes, my son?"
"The Commandant would like to see you, sir."
“When?”
"At your earliest convenience, sir."
"Tell him that I will be along directly."
"Yes, Sir." he didn't move.
"Is there more, son ? "
The young boy knelt before his hero. As a show of respect, he spoke mentally with Zeer, "Would thou bless me, Father? I am a poor sinner. Please show me the Way."
“I am not the way, child. The Master is the Way.” Zeer was surprised at how easily he had communicated with these people.
“Yes, Father, the Master shall lead me.”
Even he and his Dad had not spoken like this when he was alive. He put his hands upon the young man's head. He looked up, “Bless this man, Master. He is a poor sinner.” Tears fell openly from the young man’s eyes.
Zeer looked into the boy's eyes, "Do thee repent?"
“By the Word, I repent.”
“May Our Master bless thee richly in spirit.”
“And also Bless you, Father.” The whole act of contrition was silent but to mental speechers. The boy pressed the back of Zeer's hand to his forehead in a Paronese blessing.
Zeer was embarrassed by this show of affection. He was unaware of the regard that the Paronese community had for their "Hooman Father". He helped the boy up.
Out loud, he asked, “Now, me son, I must drop ma good wife at the medicos.”
The boy replied in his miond, “Ah, yes, Father, I hear your wee kittens voices in my heart. Your new kits.”
“Aye, ma wee kittens,” he looked at Paris.
She nodded and told him, “Didn’t I tell ya, in the Paronese culture, all kittens are raised as our kittens.”
“Okay.” He looked at the guardian, “Little Brother, shall we proceed?”
“Aye, Father. I will show you a short cut. We can arrive in half of the time.”
“That will be perfect, ma good lad. Lead on, sir.” As they passed, people looked up and made the sign of blessing. Occasionally, they would catch Zeer's eye and he would smile and the smile would be returned shyly. They followed high pathways along the walls. The Guardian-Corporal was right. They arrived very quickly at the hospital. He kissed Paris and hurried after the Guardian in another of his short cuts. As they walked up, the Commandant was just coming out of his office at a dead run followed by a unit of Guardians, dressing and shining each other while they ran.
The Commandant mumbled, “It's just like his Royal Vice-Bastardness to tell me he was coming in three hours and show up a day and a half later. He’s always dropping in unannounced!” The soldiers ran by them without noticing them.
Zeer wondered what was up. He heard his new brother’s voice in his head, “Come on, Father, I think the Viceroy is here to inspect the damage to the mine.”
They followed the troops through the gate and out to a parade ground. Lights were on in the gathering dusk. Over the horizon came a constellation of black dust specks. These quickly grew into birds, then, into planes. Finally, the shape of the Viceroyal Star Glider came into view. The other dots became the escort crafts each bearing the Empra's Triflower Crest. The armada grew to full size and settled in a cloud of dust just outside the walls.
As they reached the gate in the gathering throng, Paris found him. He looked at her, “Good?”
“Kits are fine. Mama is fine. I’m done at the medicos. I hitched a ride in an ambulance out to the landing site.”
“Okay, we’re coming, too What’s this, eh?”
“Viddies say VR comin’…”
“Yes, just as my new pilgrim has told me.” Looking around, Zeer saw the Viddy crews and the crowd waiting for whoever was in the Glider. When the people caught sight of Zeer and the young corporal, they broke into cheers. A cordon of Paronese Guardians formed around them for protection. Nothing was said. As soon as they got used to having Earthers with mind talking skills, the entire Paronese community had adopted him into their family. They saw his little family as valuable leaders and they were bound to help. Another group of Paronese Guardians hustled his wife into their little circle. He took her hand as she kissed his cheek. They smiled at each other and they continued toward the excitement.
Zeer was glad that his hood was still forward from the ceremony. He stooped his shoulders as a man of sixty cycles would be expected to do. He hoped that this would hide his true form within his robes. He found himself whisked to the front and soon they were standing on the side of a newly erected stage with lights and loud speaking equipment. “What are we doing here?” he asked no one in particular.
His escort leader, a Paronese Lieutenant spoke quietly in his head, “The VR has come all the way from his Palais to meet thee, Father.” The crowd, seeing Zeer on the dais, began to cheer lustily.
At just that moment, the Viceroy and the Father Visitor (also known as the Vicate, the Living Voice of the Master’s Church) were making their final approach on the parade ground landing site outside the main gate. Inside the Royal barge, they were watching a rerun of the Fire Eagle ceremony that had just been broadcast.
The Vicate knew that the timing of their visit could not have been better. “I kind of hate to follow that, but, good publicity never hurts." he thought to himself.
As soon as they landed, the royal visitors were being placed in curtained shoulder carts. They were then carried to the platform on the shoulders of Mellanquiz giants. Being self centered, they naturally assumed that the people were cheering for them. "Iz zzis not wunderful, couzzin? Za peepo here love uzz."
"Yes, your majesty. That they do."
If they had opened the curtains of their vehicle to look out, they would have been shocked. The people were not even looking at them. They were gathering around Zeer and Paris, cheering like madmen. Zeer pointed at the Viceroy as they arrived at the dais to begin the ceremony. Zeer and Paris worked their way to the back of the crowd on the platform. The Viceroy held up his arms for quiet. “Would Fazzer Tafwick attend uzz her
e.”
The crowd parted as Royal Guardian soldiers formed a path to Zeer. Paris was initially held back.
"Preacher man..." He had been concentrating on the Holy Scarlet Visitor. His office was commonly called, Vicate. At her mental call, he turned and grabbed Paris's outstretched paw. He pulled her through the cordon of troops. “She goes with me.” A Captain touched his cap and the cordon reformed around the two of them. Their Paronese Guardians formed up behind their two charges. The Federal Guardians formed a second rank around them.
“Thankee, dear.”
“I couldna face this wi'out ya, me darlin'. I wonder what they want of me.”
“This here's the Lord Vice-Thief and his Loyal Frogger Divil Incarnate, laddie. Watch the family jewels wi' this bunch.”
“Aye, Dad. Tis a dangerous day.”
Zeer knelt and kissed the Viceroy's ring and did the same for the Holy Visitor. “What's on his mind, Par.”
“It’s a big opportunity for his Frogness, sonny. They call it a Photo Op. A chance for positive publicity for the Imperion. He’s just trying to build up his image through your success. He thinks he’s in line for Empra.”
“Really?”
The Viceroy hit a button. His chair lifted until their heads were even with Zeer’s head in the camera shot. He put his arm on Zeer's shoulder, looked into the lights and began, “Ladies and Gentlemen, let me present the hero of Mining Station 1.” (cheers)
Preacher Man Page 15
