“I hear Alek’s not gettin’ that kind of support by playing fair,” Guzman said. “Some people say he’s been sending out hired thugs to threaten people into supporting him, or offering money under the table to his supporters after he’s elected…I remember what that shit was like back on Earth. I don’t want it gettin’ started here.”
“How do you expect us to compete with that? None of us have the connections or whatever the hell kind of secret accounts Alek is using, and the only way to compete with money is more money, so I don’t think we’re gonna outspend him….”
“You don’t have to outspend him to outcompete him,” Guzman said. “We got allies of our own. Didn’t you say you were friends with some guy who was involved with those religious folks…what was their name…”
“Dissenters,” Klein said.
“Yeah, Dissenters. Anyway, I don’t think religious people would like their Promised Land being taken over by Russian Mafia guys. If we went to ‘em and explained what was going on and why they should help us out, maybe we could get their support in the election and they’d give us the numbers we need to win.”
“It’s not that easy to get their support,” said Klein. “I don’t know the Dissenters that well, other than Peebo and a few of his relatives, but even though they don’t like the crime and corruption of Earth, they don’t seem to me like the types who would get involved in a political campaign that might involve hostility and violence. Why ruin their attempt to make a fresh start of things by forcing them into politics when they’re practically fresh off the ships from Earth?”
Guzman was becoming more and more excited as the conversation went on. “They may not want to be involved, but they will be involved soon enough! I know how this shit goes down on Earth, a guy like Alek doesn’t take no for an answer, he’ll come after anyone who doesn’t support him…”
Klein heard a loud banging noise coming from the door. He got up out of his seat and walked over to the door, and opened it to see Erskine standing in the doorway. Erskine had a slightly agitated look on his face, but otherwise appeared as he usually did, with no visibly different body language that Klein could see. “I need to talk with you inside your office, Klein,” he said. He followed Klein in and sat down next to Klein’s desk.
Erskine sighed, as if he had thought long and hard about what he was about to say. “Klein, I…you’re gonna have to get a new place to sleep. All the campaign posters, all this political stuff in my bar…I’ve been getting complaints from some of the customers. They don’t want to have to look at or think about all these depressing things or worry about their futures, they just want to come in, have a brew, have a laugh, and this campaign makes it really hard. I can’t have you using my bar as a campaigning place, you’re gonna have to leave now.”
Erskine’s words triggered a sudden flood of anger in Klein’s mind. His voice erupted in a rage-filled shout, the rational aspect of his mind lost to an elemental force he could no longer control. “We made that goddamn agreement in the beginning of the campaign!” he shouted at Erskine. “I was counting on that fucking bar as a place I could use to recruit people, and all of a sudden, you just kick me out?! After all I did to help keep this town safe, this is the thanks I get?! Did Alek beat the shit out you to get him to kick me out?”
Immediately after he said it, Klein realized the error of his words. Erskine had no noticeable scars or bruises, and did not seem upset about the prospect of Klein leaving him. Damn my rage, he thought as his anger subsided. Alek probably didn’t need to use a beating on the guy, just a little bribe. Should’ve remembered a lot of guys will sell each other out at the drop of a hat on a penal planet.
Erskine looked angry but maintained his composure. “You have to get all your stuff out of your room today. Do it or I’ll have it all thrown out into the street. You don’t have a room above the bar anymore. That’s the end of it,” he said and walked out of Klein’s campaign office.
Something about the indignity of having a man he had thought was his friend abruptly sell him out had trigged tremendous anger in Klein. After the initial explosion of rage had worn off, he was still left with painful resentment and a gnawing craving for revenge on Alek. He’d show that bastard who could play hardball politics on this planet!
“Guzman, that idea you had about the contacting the Dissenters for help…that sounds like a great idea now. I’m gonna get to work on that. After I finish hauling all my stuff back from the bar, that’s the first thing I’m looking into.”
Over the course of the last several weeks, Tays’she had become increasingly hostile to Entara for reasons she didn’t understand. One day her husband had screamed at her for an eternity because she had come home late and had gotten some cheap takeout instead of a “proper” meal. Another day he had chosen a more passive-aggressive method of venting his anger at her, choosing to lock her out of their shared bedroom because she had forgotten to get him a batch of paint he had requested. Just as mysterious as Tays’she’s anger towards her was his odd reaction on the day Ayan’we had returned to the Academy; when Ayan’we had returned the box with the family’s tax forms to him, he had nervously gone through it, as if he were concerned that something important might have been missing. Entara pondered; did Ayan’we know something that Tays’she had kept from her? Or was she just becoming paranoid because of Tays’she’s increasing irritability? She couldn’t make up her mind, but the nagging suspicion didn’t leave her.
This particular day, Tays’she’s behavior was even odder than it had been over the past few weeks. Instead of being frustrated and irritable, he seemed to be in a state of euphoria, walking about the home with a secretive smile on his face, politely answering all her requests, and even taking the trouble to call her at the Passport Center to tell her that he had a “big surprise” waiting for her when she got home. After finishing her day’s work, Entara took the monorail back to her private home, a sense of inescapable anxiety lodged in her mind about the nature of what the “surprise” was.
She opened the door to her house and saw Tays’she standing in the middle of the living room. He had a glowing smile on his face, and there was a female Entara had never seen before reclining on the couch. The newcomer was wearing an expensive looking blue dress that accentuated her tall, slim figure; though Entara did not know the woman’s exact age, she appeared several years younger than Entara. The mystery woman looked at Entara with a cold expression on her face, as if she was trying to determine whether Entara was a rival or merely a bystander.
Confused by the sight of the stranger in her living room, Entara asked Tays’she, “What is the meaning of this? Who is this stranger, and what is she doing in our house?” The anxiety that she had suppressed all day gave a forceful edge to her voice as her negative emotions rose to the surface.
The smile left Tays’she’s face, replaced by an expression of wavering uncertainty. Did Entara, his First Wife, still have a strong enough will to challenge her fate? I can’t hold back my decision from her any longer, he thought, and began to explain to her. “Entara, you are no longer my First Wife. This is Ha’maya, who shall take your place. I shall allow you to continue living with us as my Second Wife, as you have pleased me greatly in technical and … other matters.”
“After all I have done for us, this is how you reward me and our children? By condemning me to a dishonor that most Forlani would not wish upon their worst enemy? Do you think so little of me that I am trash to be cast out? ” Entara responded.
“Our children will have the same rights and entitlements they had when you were my First Wife,” Tays’she said, “and no one shall be ‘cast out’. This decision will simply allow you to focus on your duties at the Passport Center. Your earnings there will continue to strengthen our family…”
“Is that all I am to you? Some miserable kar’ya, a beast of burden to earn for you?! Meh’tra, Tays’she! Meh’tra! You’ve stuck that organ of yours inside me and torn me up so many times I couldn’t think you w
anted more, but I’m not enough for you. Even after I was impregnated for life, you kept at it again and again just for yourself. I wish I didn’t have to go on having your children, I wish I could just spew everything from you out of myself. I… I…” Entara stopped herself only when she realized that she did love her own children, the ones born and the ones to be born, despite what she had suffered through the mating, despite the rottenness of her husband, despite the insult to her and all her line.
She was so violently upset with Tays’she, so outraged with his brazen dishonoring of her status as First Wife, that the only way she could restrain herself from attacking him was to rush to the room her daughters shared on their rare nights at home. She could barely hear Tays’she saying that it was his legal right to make this decision and that he would not change his mind as she left the room in frustration. When she reached the room of her daughters, she punched the desk in a fit of rage, yelling “Meh’tra!” again and again as she vented her disgust with the situation. The man she had agreed to marry for the benefit of her family, who had claimed according to the ancient marriage rites of the Forlani that he would “cherish and honor” her forever, only cared about her as an instrument of wealth, a thing of earning potential! She was no more than a carcass to him.
Even in her fury, she realized that this was not the absolute worst case scenario she had dreaded. Tays’she had said she would not be cast out; presumably that meant she would be afforded some puny room in the house with a sleeping bag, and her children would not lose their inherited status as Tays’she’s children. Pity they’ll legally be considered Ha’maya’s children as Tays’she’s ‘Children of the first bed’ from now on, she thought to her chagrin. As for those yet to be born, they would only have the matriline to provide for them, with little chance for marriage or advancement. It was one comfort to know that Ayan’we, at least, would always consider her Mother. She again remembered the strange, awkward exchange as Ayan’we returned the box full of folders to Tays’she. What does Ayan’we know that I do not? She pondered.
The meeting with the Dissenters had taken about a week and a half to set up, and Klein knew it would have taken longer if his friend Peebo hadn’t somehow requesting that the process be expedited. The Dissenters typically didn’t have a mindset of hair-trigger responses, but Klein had told Peebo that the campaign would be over soon, and Peebo had assured him the Dissenters would oblige as best they could.
It took place in a barn outside of Site 89’s town center. Klein noticed the barn was well-used, with bales of hay piled up and a bleating thallop in a stable against the left wall. The only visual cue that the barn was a place of importance was a small circle of ash with a cross inside. This ephemeral symbol, used by the Dissenters to mark their temporary “churches” and meeting places alike, was chosen because it could be so easily erased after the end of the meeting, insuring that none of Hyperion’s representatives would find a record of the massed Dissenters in the place. Klein and Guzman sat down on one side of the ash circle; on the other side, Peebo and a man Klein didn’t recognize were seated. The man who was new to Klein appeared to be a middle-aged black man, his hair just starting to turn white. The man turned his face to Klein.
“Welcome, Klein, friend of Peebo. To a farmer, a day ends at sunset,” the man said.
“To Klein, a day ends at sunset,” Klein repeated. One of the first things Peebo explained to me was that ‘a day ends at sunset’ is their way of saying that this conversation never leaves these walls. Maybe that’s why the Dissenters never like to schedule their meetings at any time other than twilight, he thought.
“I am the man the Council has sent to speak with you,” he told Klein. “I am sorry, but our true names are not to be told to people not of our faith. My name to you will be Trevor, though it is not the name God gave me.”
“It’s always good to find a friend on the road at night,” Klein said, repeating the last part of the Crop Talk code Peebo had taught him for speaking to the Dissenters. “Glad to meet you, Trevor.”
“It’s good to find a man who needs a guide at night,” Trevor said. “I have been told that your town faces the threat of corruption and violence. Please explain to me why you need our help.”
Klein struggled to find a way to phrase his problems with Alek so that they didn’t just sound like a personal struggle, mulling his words over before he spoke. “There’s a man running against me named Alek for Marshall of Site 89. I’m not going to lie to you, he’s leading me in the polls right now, but he’s not the type of person who would run a fair election. I think he may be using threats of violence and property destruction to make people support him, but I know he’s been using bribes. What I need are dependable supporters, the kind of people who won’t be swayed by money under the table and have strong moral convictions.”
“What you are saying,” Trevor asked, “is that you want the Council to encourage those of our faith to support you in this confrontation, correct?”
“Yes,” Klein responded. This guy really cuts to the chase, he makes me feel like my responses to his questions are inarticulate and wouldn’t convince an idiot, Klein thought.
“It is good that you are a friend of people of our faith,” Trevor said. “If the people of our faith welcomed the concept of political engagement, we would likely be inclined to support you. But perhaps you don’t fully understand our history yet, or the notion of why the Dissenters chose to leave the Earth. Do you remember what had happened to other religious groups before the Dissenters had formed?”
Dammit! I knew there was some kind of trick question involved somehow, and I have almost no religious education, Klein thought. I may not be able to con this guy into thinking I’m some kind of religious genius, but at least I can’t let him know how frustrating this campaign—and this conversation—is for me. “I’m sorry, I don’t know too much about the history of religious movements in the 21st Century,” Klein answered, giving a response that was as honest as possible.
Trevor had a sad, almost wistful, look on his face. “So many of those movements, those churches, had once started out with genuine good in their souls and truth in their minds. But they almost invariably became eaten, consumed by the Sin of the world around them. They believed they could master, and ultimately vanquish, Sin by controlling the great political engines of their times. In some cases, they could even win a brief victory over Sin, banishing some obscene aspect of the world around them for a brief time. But that taste of politics always led to worldliness, and it would always gain possession of their souls, no matter if it be slowly and secretly or abruptly and dramatically. They would always become bound to the Sinful Earth, another aspect of Sin within themselves, as much as they claimed they hated it—building gilded halls they claimed were “churches,” saying that a man poorer than them was not loved by God, spreading hatred and bile and filth to their enemies as the Enemy of All does to Man. Do you understand why we came here, Klein?”
“You wanted a New Earth, like it says at the end of Revelations,” Klein said. “A new world, where you could teach people to live without the sins of the old.”
Trevor smiled. “Exactly! We, who are called Dissenters, took that name because we want to leave the Sinful Earth behind, for it—and the great powers that govern it—are so drenched in Sin that they will corrupt all. We do not want to conquer other men’s souls by violence, though we will defend ourselves if we are attacked. We will not build gilded halls like those of the Sinful Earth do, but meet in secret places, like the Old Christians did, with only this mark to guide us,” he said, pointing at the ash circle. “We will not tell others that God does not love them because of the misery of their mortal life, but teach them the glories of God, so they may turn to God and live for a better tomorrow. The technology, wealth, and worldliness of the Sinful Earth we wish to leave behind so that we may have a chance of cleansing our souls to see Him. How would interceding in your election accomplish this?”
“Because,” Klein said,
“If you don’t declare for me in this election, Alek will almost certainly win. And, unlike me, he won’t take a maybe for a positive response. He’ll come after anyone who doesn’t emphatically support him in this election. Also, I don’t know where that money of his is exactly coming from, but I can bet it’s nowhere good, and he’ll be sure to cause a lot of trouble with it after his election.”
Trevor had a thoughtful expression on his face. Klein didn’t get a sense of antagonism from the man, despite the fact that he had felt frustrated during his questioning. But Klein’s hypothesis that the Dissenters were not a group who enjoyed political engagement was proving difficult to overcome. “I, and the Council, will consider further what you have said. But know that we do not make decisions quickly or act quickly as a group. It may take us many months to decide what we will do.”
“But the election’s less than a month from now!” Guzman blurted out.
“A good vintage gets better with age,” Trevor told Guzman, and swept his hand through the ash circle. It was a sign that the meeting was over, and the place’s value to the Dissenters had been reduced to being just another barn. Klein turned around and left with Guzman.
“Damnit, I really blew it back there!” Guzman whispered to Klein once they were out of earshot.
“I don’t think you blew anything,” Klein said as he responded to Guzman. “I think the response he gave us was what he, and the Council, had planned out before the meeting had even occurred. Those questions weren’t about our campaign so much as they were about studying us and our concepts of faith and sin. Don’t you remember what he said about teaching the glories of God?”
Life Sentence (Forlani Saga Book 1) Page 14
