by Chrys Cymri
‘You killed her,’ Gonard growled, his mind spinning.
Fear brightened the man’s eyes. A long instrument appeared in his hand--the same with which Gonard had seen him remove a hippogryph’s leg with one sweep of red light. The man lifted it, aiming the end at Gonard’s head. ‘She is not important. You are not important.’
The man’s words were cut off in a second blaze. The flames surrounded him, burrowing into his coat, dancing along his unruly hair. The black eyes teared, then melted to bone. And then, flesh gone, the bones themselves crisped, until all that was left to slump to the ground was a few bits of gristle and gutted muscles.
The remaining fire blasted into the floor, the hard material smoking and receding from the heat. Finally the chamber in his chest was empty, its deed done. The Master was dead.
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First Chapter of ‘The Judas Disciple’
February
16 February
The Judas Disciple died today. They say the next one will be chosen from the Republic of England. We’ll have months of talk shows trying to work out who it’ll be. Well, maybe it’ll give me something else to think about than the mess Ben’s left me in.
You’d think I’d get some peace between coming home and going to this Conversion Concert. But as I got ready to go out, my mother stood in the doorway of my room, wanting to talk to me. Okay, yes, technically it’s her room, since it’s the spare room in her flat. I’m only living here until the house is sold and the divorce goes through. But still, I’m thirty plus years old. A bit past having to listen to lectures from Mum.
‘So, you’re seeing him again tomorrow night?’ she asked. It’s hard in a journal to put over the exact tone she used for ‘him.’ Mum made it sound like the Devil himself was going to meet me.
Okay, no she wouldn’t, not as a paid up member of God’s Gang. Maybe more like something you found clinging to your shoe.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘Ben wants to see me again. I thought you’d be happy about that? Aren’t you GG people supposed to support marriage?’ I was plucking brown hairs from my coat, so I was able to keep my face turned away from Mum. Just as well, because I was a bit teary. ‘Maybe he’s realised what a mistake he’s made.’
‘Corina--’
She only calls me that when things are really serious. And I was stone cold sober, so in no state to take serious. ‘Mum, I’ve got to go. You don’t want me to be late for the Conversion Concert, do you?’
That got Mum excited. ‘It’s not just any Conversion Concert,’ she gabbled at me. ‘Mercy Peter will be there. Oh, I could almost wish I wasn’t already a member. They say she’s a fantastic speaker. Just think, she sees Jesus almost every day!’
‘Not every day,’ I grumbled back. ‘I mean, he’s based in London, isn’t he? Won’t she be staying in Northampton for these gigs?’
Mum entered the room, and I stiffened. But she only patted my coat down and touched my arm. ‘Have a good time, Corrie. And listen to the message, please?’
I ended up arriving early at the Concert, which means I’ve had to sit through thirty minutes of the latest praise band going on how wonderful it is to be a member of God’s Gang. I think the worst song went something like ‘I love the Gang, it gives me a bang’--and I wondered if they knew that ‘bang’ means something else out in the real world. It’s got so bad that I went to the ‘Holy Souvenir Table’ and bought this notebook. Maybe if I keep writing I can avoid the Gang Greeters who keep coming to my seat to ask me if I would ‘love to speak some heart truths.’
Jezebel’s dogs! I’ve just looked at the front cover of this notebook. It’s got a blue and pink teddy bear wearing a t-shirt saying ‘Proud to be in GOD’S GANG.’ I thought I’d picked up the less sickening one which only had the rising sun logo on it. The front pages list all the Peters there’ve been since the first, Simon Peter. I guess they must change the front pages from Concert to Concert depending which Disciple is present, since the Peter is heading up this one.
But that was the deal. I’m staying with Mum, rent free, and so here I am at the Concert. She even pointed out the food comes from God’s Gang, after all. ‘They’ve increased my allowance for you,’ she said. ‘They’ve even given us a voucher for a bottle of wine every week.’
I decided it was best not to tell her that, when things were really getting bad between Ben and me, I was putting away a bottle of wine every night.
Oh, good, that band is finally leaving the stage. ‘We love you, we love Peter, and we love Jesus!’ they’ve just shouted to the crowd. It’s a big venue, could seat several thousand, and I guess there must be around four hundred of us inside. I’m in halfway seats, so I can see the stage quite well but I’m not close enough to get pulled on. Although these Gang Greeters spot you anywhere. I’ve just had to repel another one. They’re like hungry mosquitoes. I wonder if they’ve got some quota to fill, so many conversions per Concert? I do think the Gang should spend a bit more money on clothing them. You can tell the difference between a GG member and those of us who haven’t chosen between them or Devil’s Due.
Aha, now things are starting. A huge screen has come down, and the announcer is telling us how exciting it all is. We’re getting the premiere of the latest God’s Gang film. It was even filmed on location in the Holy Birth Land! Be still my heart. The lights are going down so my handwriting is going to get even worse than usual.
Okay, nice opening shot. Dry and dusty Israel. I wonder if anyone really visits there, or only God’s Gang people on package tours? Swooping shot across what I guess must be Jerusalem, with all the worship towers topped by the rising sun logo. Better than a blue and pink teddy bear, though.
Bethlehem. I know because they’ve put up a subtitle. A stable scene, a baby which is supposed to be Jesus along with his Earth parents. They all look holy. Even the donkey looks holy.
Now thirty years later. It must be Jesus playing himself, because we only get to see the back of his head, shaggy brown hair waving in the wind. I guess they can still use him when they get to his thirties, since he’s stayed like that, hasn’t he? Most be some advantages to being the Son of God, eternal youth being one of them. How old is he now really, what, nearly two thousand years?
We’re cutting right to the Victory Scene. There’s Lucifer, but according to the opening credits not the real one, just an actor playing him. I guess God’s Gang can’t afford the Devil’s appearance fees.
Jesus is talking about being hungry and thirsty, like he would be after forty days and nights in the desert. His clothes look too good, though, all grey and ivory swirly robes. Lucifer is wearing a black suit, looks high designer label to me. The real one has quite a few designers working for him, but then they say he is a bit of a clothes horse.
‘Forty days and nights in this desert,’ Lucifer is saying, standing right in Jesus’ personal space. Wonder how the actor felt being this close to the Son of God. Did they build any healings into the contract? ‘You must be so hungry. Why not change these stones into bread? You could feed yourself, and go on to feed everything on this planet.’
I think half the audience said Jesus’ lines with him. ‘It is written, “Humans do not live by bread alone.”’ Some wit in the audience has just shouted out, ‘A bit of ham and cheese goes down well!’ and people have laughed. I bet the God Greeters aren’t happy about that one.
A bit of special effects while Lucifer and Jesus fly over the desert and land on the top of the Grand Temple in Jerusalem. They’ve either removed or airbrushed out the rising sun logo which you usually see in photos of the Grand Temple. ‘Throw yourself off this Temple,’ Lucifer is saying. ‘You know that your Father’s angels will catch you before you hit the ground.’
Again, people around me are muttering Jesus’ response. Even if you aren’t a c
ard carrying member of God’s Gang, you’ve had all this in school history classes and you know it by heart. ‘It is written, “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.”’
More special effects. Oh, they’ve gone a bit modern. Jesus and Lucifer are now standing on top of Buckingham Presidential Palace. I wonder if they use the White House for the Union of American States version? ‘If you will acknowledge my ownership of this world’s wealth,’ Lucifer says, ‘then I will give to you all the people who are baptised into your name. But I will remain the king of pain. I will remain the king of pain.’
All the God Greeters and lots of people in the hall start to cheer as the moment of Victory comes. ‘I give you the world’s wealth,’ Jesus says, ‘and you release to me all those who are baptised into the name of Jesus, Son of Man and Son of God. I claim Victory over you and all your dark works!’
Some people around me have got to their feet. The film has finished, and the lights are coming up. And there she is, the headline attraction, Mercy Peter herself. I remember the talk when she was appointed Peter, first time it’s gone to a woman and a woman from Africa as well. Mind you, the lights on the stage even make her look a bit pale. She probably thought she could get by without any make-up. Bad call.
‘Jesus has claimed the Victory!’ she shouts into a microphone. Some of the crowd roar back, ‘Jesus has claimed the Victory!’ But I don’t think I’m the only one who is scrunching back in her seat and wishing this whole thing was over.
‘Jesus has claimed the Victory, he ended the struggle over poverty and suffering!’ Mercy Peter is striding across the stage. Okay, yes, she has real presence. Her dreadlocks are quite fantastic, bouncing up and down like they have a life of their own. She even gets to wear something colourful, a black dress thing with the rising sun logo repeated over and over. ‘You can join in this Victory. Join God’s Gang, and you too will never again be hungry or be thirsty. You will never again be without a place to call home, or people to call family. And your name will go into the Lottery automatically every week. You might even win the Grand Prize of a healing from Jesus himself!’
Ugh. That’s what my mother keeps telling me. ‘And if you joined God’s Gang you’d get your name into the Lottery. I’m not getting younger, Corina. Look at Martha, she has five children and all their names go into the Lottery. What if I get sick?’
There are times I really, really hate being an only child.
Mercy Peter is still going on, telling us why we should convert. I’ve heard it a million times. Mum became a recruiter a few years after Dad died, which makes about thirty years of me hearing her talk to Seekers about God’s Gang. Join God’s Gang and all your troubles are over. Food tokens, accommodation, clothes, health care and the Lottery. Just sign everything over to God’s Gang. You might even get a token for a bottle of wine every week.
I can feel my liver suffering withdrawal symptoms even as I scribble. Maybe I should put it to a vote amongst my vital organs.
Here we go, a call to the front. A chance to convert in front of the Peter herself. Right hand woman of Jesus, second-in-command of God’s Gang. Maybe you get a special sticker? Oh, if you convert today you will get two additional entries into the Lottery! After you’ve gone through the process and been baptised, of course. Not before then.
The God Greeters whoop and cheer for each person who goes forward. They’re brought up on stage and get a hug from Mercy Peter herself. And second prize is two hugs…
This could go on forever. The God Greeters are moving up and down the hall, looking to see if any more of us are going forward. The guy on my right is hunkering down, not meeting their eyes. I wonder why he’s here. A pushy wife? Lost his job and wondering who’s going to feed him? Maybe he did it on a dare. I heard a stag party invaded one of these and threw things on the stage. Devil’s Due issued a full apology even though the men weren’t signed up members of theirs.
Okay, looks like we’re finally coming to an end. The new converts are being taken away for whatever they do to them. If any of them are local they might end up at my Mum’s house. She does mentoring as well as recruiting. Time to go.
Later--and the evening got even worse.
Traffic wasn’t too bad, and I found a space to park on the road near the HappyDaze complex. I decided to be lazy and took the lift up to my Mum’s floor.
At least the Concert meant that I’d avoided one of her meetings. I could smell some perfume in the air as I opened the door to the flat. So it was a mentoring group. Only new converts would still be wearing perfume. There was a bottle of wine in the fridge. I tried not to look at the label so I wouldn’t prejudge what went into my glass. The voucher might entitle you to wine, but Market Economy supermarkets have the best vintages. I’ve never been impressed with what you find in Kingdom stores.
I found Mum in the meeting room. She was watching ‘The Kingdom of God,’ that blockbuster movie which came out last year about the early years of the Kingdom. I hadn’t realised the DVD was already available, but I wasn’t surprised she’d rushed out to buy a copy.
The movie was about half an hour in. Jesus had already won the Victory in the desert and picked his original twelve Disciples in Galilee. They were riding into Jerusalem in gleaming horses, and the streets were lined with people cheering Jesus on as ‘Son of David, Son of God!’
Mum turned the sound down. ‘Did you meet the Peter?’ she asked. That was her way of asking whether I’d been converted.
‘No,’ I said. That was my way of telling her that I hadn’t.
‘Oh.’ Mum sighed. ‘But what did you think of her?’
‘She was interesting.’ That wasn’t entirely a lie.
On the TV screen the Hollywood actor portraying Jesus was marching up the Temple steps. The priests were out in force to welcome him as their new leader. The actor smiled at them, teeth rather too perfect for the time period. I’m also not convinced by the blond hair and blue eyes, but I suppose they wanted someone with international appeal.
I should have realised that Mum wasn’t going to let go of our earlier battle. ‘About meeting Ben--’
I hate the way my stomach does a sudden flip-flops when I hear his name. How can anyone feel excited, nervous, hopeful, and angry all at once? ‘Yes. Tomorrow evening.’
Mum was only angry. ‘After the way he’s treated you--’
‘But maybe he’s changed his mind,’ I said. The wine was shivering in the glass. ‘It’s only been a couple of months since he told me, maybe he’s realised he’s made a mistake.’ I wished Mum would shut up. The movie was getting to my favourite bit, where Jesus goes to see the Roman Emperor and convinces him that he is the Son of God. The miracle where Jesus heals the Emperor’s daughter is one of the best scenes in the whole film.
Another sigh. Sighs are Mum’s specialist subject. ‘Corina. I was here the last time he phoned. Remember? When he told you all the reasons why Helen was better than you.’
‘Only because I asked him to,’ I protested. I put the wine glass down to stop me from spilling any. ‘I thought you God’s Gang people believed in forgiveness.’
‘We do. We’re also strong on faithfulness.’ Mum leaned forward. Now that she’s let her hair go grey she can look really fierce when she wants to. ‘And even more so when it’s my own daughter.’
‘We were having a trial separation--’
‘A man who tells my daughter he’s not coming back to her after fourteen years of marriage is not the man I want for a son-in-law.’ Mum shook her head. ‘Have you forgotten that night, that weekend? I haven’t.’
Great, now we’d missed the controversial scene where Jesus persuades the Emperor to outlaw crucifixion. ‘After all,’ the movie had Jesus say, ‘in different circumstances you might have crucified me.’ That had caused all sorts of uproar last year. The idea that the Son of God might have died, when it was clearly God’s plan that he would live forever as the leader of the Kingdom of God on Earth! Even worse, that he might have died like the
worst of criminals. People chanted protests outside of cinemas about that one.
‘This argument,’ I told her, ‘isn’t helping.’ So I picked up my wine and headed to my bedroom. Anyway, the movie gets boring after that. All the political stuff about setting up the Kingdom Economy and the first Disciples building their portfolios. Although the scene in which Jesus’ mother dies is quite touching. They had a whole bit where Jesus agonises that he’s going to live forever while everyone dies around him.
Anyway, I’m sitting here on the bed, wishing I’d brought the whole bottle of wine with me and reading through my break-up journal. Or maybe it won’t be break-up. Lots of couples try living apart, even meet up with other people, then realise that they’re meant to be together, don’t they? And all those reasons he gave why Helen is better than I am. I’ve lost about twelve pounds over the last month, so I can’t think she’s much skinnier than me. We can talk about housework and holidays. We can make it work out.
Mmph. Got to get to bed. Work tomorrow.
17 February noonish
Lunch break. This isn’t a bad office, I’ve worked in worse. My first manager collected pigs and we often said he aspired to be one. The manager I work for now has been pretty good about being nice to me but not asking every five minutes if I’m coping okay. They all know about Ben. Well, it’s hard not to know when I had a major crying breakdown on the phone about two weeks ago. I’d just looked at our bank account on-line and saw a huge debit on our joint credit card from a jewellery store. I made the mistake of ringing Ben from my desk and he was just so logical about it. ‘We want to get married as soon as possible,’ he told me. ‘So of course Helen needs an engagement ring.’
‘Engagement ring?’ I’m surprised my voice didn’t break glass. ‘But we’re still married!’
