by N E Riggs
“Thanks,” he said. She was probably unsure about him. They hadn’t seen each other for over three months, after all. And God, had he really already been on Bantong for three months? “It was hard work, and I almost didn’t make it. If it wasn’t for that craziness on Lunari I wouldn’t be a Sword Priest.”
Laughing she led him out of her office. “You must tell me all about it.” They ended up in a little café on one of the upper levels, drinking fancy coffees. There were a lot of things Bantong didn’t do well, but fancy coffee wasn’t one of them. David took a sip of his cappuccino and smiled at the taste. It was different from an Earth cappuccino (too much vanilla) but good. He told Brigid about his long months of training and his new friends. He told her about the test and about his adventure in Lunari. She was a great listener, sympathetic when he talked about how he’d struggled during the training and gasping in fear when he told her about the werewolves. He didn’t tell her about how he’d slept with Scatha.
“It’s been insane, but good,” David finished. “I’m a little scared about becoming a Sword Priest, but for the first time in my life I’ve accomplished something. Maybe it was only because of a technicality, but I still want to be proud.”
“You should be proud,” Brigid said, leaning earnestly across the table. “You were very brave on Lunari. Trust me, if they didn’t think you’d make a good Sword Priest, then you wouldn’t be one now. I know you’ll do a good job.”
He finished off his coffee and turned his attention to the table. It was easier looking at that than her. “I wanted to talk to you about one more thing. I was pretty horrible to you the last time we talked. I could make excuses about not knowing any better and not being from around here, but I was still rude. I wanted to apologize for what I said, and for taking so long to say I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, David,” Brigid said softly. “You know better now. You’re a proper Sword Priest, you’ve made your vows to Aeons, and you’re going to stay on Bantong.”
He barely managed to hide his wince at that. He’d wanted to ask her other things: if she had any new information about a gateway back to Earth and if she wanted to have coffee with him again some time. Now he couldn’t ask her any of those things. She thought he wanted to stay on Bantong for the rest of his life and that he believed in Aeons.
At that moment he knew he could never be with Brigid. She was more distant with him now than she’d been before, but that didn’t matter. He was the problem. She wanted him to love Aeons and Bantong as much as she did, as much as she now thought he did. He couldn’t start a relationship on a lie, not if he wanted it to last. If she learned that he’d become a Sword Priest without meaning his vows, she’d never forgive him.
“David? Are you okay?” He looked up to see her watching him with concern. “You looked awfully miserable for a moment there.”
“No, I’m fine,” he said quickly, pasting a smile on his face. “I was just thinking about stuff I have to do today. I start work tomorrow, and there’s a lot that needs to be done. Anyway, I hope I can see you around,” he said, standing.
Brigid stood too. “Of course. You have my number. Call any time.”
“Thanks.” He managed a weak but genuine smile before slipping away. When he reached the elevator, he leaned back against the wall with a groan. So much for finding love on Bantong. He should have known better after what Cethon had said.
Worse than that, he needed another way to learn about gateways. Maybe Brigid would still tell him if she learned, but David couldn’t depend on that anymore. He didn’t know if he could ask anyone else. Certainly he couldn’t ask Anur, Conal, Niam, or Bellon. He couldn’t ask Alosh either; he’d probably be more understanding than most, but he was still a Sword Priest. He’d expect David to keep the vows he’d made.
He wished he hadn’t taken the vows. Part of him wanted to keep his word, but he kept imagining John mourning for him, wondering what had happened to him. He couldn’t do that to John. He had to get back home, whatever it took.
2
Whispers of the Nephilim
“Release Met Prous!” the crowd chanted. They held up posters and screens as they marched back and forth in front of the gate of Castle Eternal. “Release Met Prous!”
David stood with Alosh between the protesters and the gates. They were off on one side, away from the worst of the crowd. “So who is Met Prous?” David asked.
“A criminal.” Alosh leaned back against the fancy, gold fence, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. “He’s a traveler. He stole information about gateways and sold the information in Jigok. He was tried by Law Priests last week and sentenced to exile on Jahan.”
“Was he guilty?” David asked. There had to be a reason for such a large protest – there were at least five hundred people gathered outside Castle Eternal. A news van was parked a short distance away, filming the protests. Screens covered the side of the van, showing similar protests around the other priest districts and in Jigok. He could vaguely recognize the other priest districts, but the only reason he knew the other cameras were in Jigok was because it said so on the bottom of the screen. From what he saw, Jigok didn’t look like a nice place to live – the buildings were very close together and dirty and falling apart.
He glanced over his shoulder at Castle Eternal. When Brigid had given him a tour of Pardis, he’d only seen it from a distance. Up close, it was magnificent. Pure white walls soared into the sky, every inch decorated with patterns and carvings: swords and bells and chains and cups and stones and circles – circles that might be chakrams, as it was one circle inside the other. That might be his imagination, though. Each priest sect had its own symbol: they had swords, the Lost had bells, Heart had stones, Law had chains, and Passion had cups. He didn’t know what Beloved had, since Scatha never said.
Castle Eternal was shorter than some of the buildings in the rest of Pardis, but the administration centers were plain, economical buildings, all straight lines and few frills, save for the symbols carved into them. Castle Eternal shone in the sunlight and seemed almost lit from within. There were extensive gardens outside that David could see through the fence, and Sword Priests stood on guard just outside the doors of the castle – from the high order, Alosh told him. Only the greatest warriors made the high order: they protected Castle Eternal, the High Priest, and the Cardinals if they left Pardis. David tried to imagine what a warrior even better than Bellon might be like, and failed. He was supposed to be watching the crowd, but he couldn’t help look at the castle every few minutes.
Alosh gave him an impatient look. “Of course he was guilty. Law Priests know right away whether a person is guilty. This whole nonsense,” he waved at the crowds, “is because of his sentence.”
Now that Alosh had said it, David remembered that Law Priests had the gift of post-sight. They could see through another person’s eyes, view their past actions. So a trial on Bantong wasn’t about determining guilt, since the Law Priests could do that in an instant, but rather what the proper punishment ought to be. “Is exile so bad?” he asked. He was in exile on Bantong right now, and he managed okay.
“The gateway to Jahan is different from other gateways,” Alosh said. “It only goes one way. Once a person is sent to Jahan, they can never come back or go to any other world. And Jahan is a wild, chaotic world, mostly lawless. So yeah, getting exiled there is a pretty big deal. It’s one step down from the death penalty.”
David shivered a bit at that. A wondrous, religious place like Bantong shouldn’t have the death penalty, in his opinion. They should be willing to forgive, and maybe just give out fines or something. Of course, religious people on Earth often supported the death penalty too, but David had the same issue with them. From what he recalled from his lessons with Scatha, the death penalty was rare – the last time had been years ago when someone attacked and killed a Bishop. He’d been afraid when he heard that, thinking someone might blame him for Cethon’s death, but no one ever had so he stopped worrying abou
t it. “So has Met Prous already been exiled?”
“He’s due to go through the gateway this afternoon,” Alosh said.
They stood silently for a few minutes, glaring when a group of protesters got too close to the gates. After the protesters had fallen back, David softly asked, “Do you think he should be exiled?”
Alosh sighed. “I’m not a Law Priest. It’s not for me to decide.” He scratched his head. “Normally, selling information about gateways wouldn’t have such a high sentence – you’d probably get a lifetime of community service and lose your right to have possessions. But these days there’s a lot of trouble makers, most of whom live in Jigok. There was an attack on the world Ferdinandea about a month ago, and a lot of people were killed. They think it was a group of people from Jigok that led the attack, using gateway information obtained from Prous. The fourth watch division finally tracked him down a few days ago. So his sentence is higher because of that.”
“It isn’t just that!” yelled a young man who’d been standing nearby. He had purple hair and pale skin and wore shorts and a t-shirt that read ’Travelers Do It In Transit.’
“You got something you want to share?” Alosh said, glaring at him and putting a hand on his agitator.
The young man crossed his arms over his chest. “What, is it a crime now to speak your mind? Met Prous had an illegal trial!”
Alosh stepped forward until he was right in front of the young man. “Don’t talk about illegal trials,” he snapped, repeatedly poking the young man in the chest. “That’s all media nonsense. No one gets exiled without proper representation.”
“And how can they be represented?” the young man said, not backing up. A few other protesters wandered closer, waving their posters. “There aren’t enough Beloved Priests for every trial!”
David frowned at that, wondering what Beloved Priests did during trials. “There are always Beloved Priests at trials involving capital sentences,” Alosh said, sounding exasperated.
“Not for travelers!” a woman said, stepping forward. She had bluish skin and green hair and wore a tight, purple dress that hung off one shoulder. Even with all the things he’d seen on Bantong, David couldn’t help but stare at her. Despite the unusual coloring, she was very attractive. “Only natives are given proper trials!”
Alosh was starting to look angry, so David quickly stepped up beside him, holding his hands up for calm. “Whoa, people,” he said. “Calm down. There’s no prejudice against travelers among priests.”
The woman gave him an almost pitying look. “Oh, that’s what all priests say. How often do any of you actually speak with travelers!”
“Well, seeing as we’re both travelers, every day,” David said, gesturing to himself and Alosh.
The crowd murmured amongst themselves at that. “You’re travelers?” the young man with purple hair asked.
Alosh crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes.”
The protesters started talking quickly, huddling together and throwing David and Alosh weighing looks. “Maybe we shouldn’t have admitted it to them,” David said.
“There is no proof of illegal trials,” Alosh said hotly, gripping his agitator again. “It’s all nonsense, started by off world media.”
David glanced towards the television crew. They filmed a different part of the crowd, talking with the protesters closer to the main gates. Rolan and Hue were speaking with some of the protesters, but it didn’t look like they were making much progress. One of the reporters was asking them questions too. David just hoped no one started paying attention to the crowd near him. He really didn’t want to end up on television.
He turned back to the small group of protesters near him. A man had joined them and was speaking earnestly. The crowd hung onto his every word, staring at him intently. They also seemed to be getting angrier by the minute. The man turned around, looking like he was going to say something, then stared at David and Alosh, his mouth hanging open. He was a handsome and rather androgynous man with dark hair that hung to his shoulders. He wore a loose gray coat over a smart suit.
“You got a problem too?” Alosh snapped at the man, shifting his shoulders. David thought he was unnerved too, by how closely the man was staring at them.
“No,” the man said, shifting his coat, brushing away creases that weren’t there. “Forgive my friends. They are such passionate people, and very worried about Met Prous’s fate.”
Alosh smiled, relaxing. “I know people worry, but you have to trust us. There are no illegal trials and, if Met Prous is exiled to Jahan, it will be because he deserved it.”
The man stepped forward, raising three fingers on each hand. “It’s always an honor meeting Sword Priests,” he said. “May I ask your name?”
“Brother Alosh Popovitch,” Alosh said, returning the gesture.
David held up three fingers on each hand too, trying not to look too awkward. He wished Bantonans would shake hands like normal people. “David Kemp. Er, Brother David Kemp.”
The man raised an eyebrow but said, “I am Malmis. Like most of my associates here, I am a traveler.” He sighed. “It’s not an easy thing, to be a traveler. You must understand, all we want is equal rights and a way to get home to our families.”
“Are all of you stuck here?” David asked, looking around the crowd. They nodded, and his stomach twisted. All these people, trapped on Bantong just like him, their friends and families back home worried sick for them. “Didn’t your Lost Priests tell you about when gateways back home would appear?”
“Oh, they told us alright,” said the blue-skinned woman, crossing her arms below her ample breasts. “I was told the gateway that brought me here was only the second one ever to reach my world. My Lost Priest said I’d never get home.” She laughed bitterly. “And then he found me a miserable job and a ratty apartment and acted like that made it all better!”
“I’ve been here seven years,” said the young man with purple hair. “I ask my Lost Priest every week about gateways, but she always says the same thing. ’We have no information about gateways at this time. Ask next week and I might know more.’ I was still a child when I came here. My parents won’t recognize me when I get home,” he said, tears running down his face. The blue-skinned woman wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“Everyone here has similar stories,” Malmis said softly. “Our Lost Priests may try, but if gateways do not appear to our home worlds, what can they do?” He spread out his arms. “Yes, Met Prous stole information about gateways and sold it to us and to those who took advantage of it. We don’t deny that. We were afraid and desperate. We thought there might be a gateway home and the Lost Priests didn’t know about it. The Passion Priests hold many secrets, after all. Everything Met Prous did was to help us. So of course we’re here to try and win him mercy. What else could we do?”
David blinked away tears. Brigid thought him committed to Bantong now – even if a gateway to Earth appeared, would she tell him? “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I know what it’s like to miss your home. I wish I could do something to help you.”
“Don’t ask us to join your protest, though,” Alosh said. His eyes looked suspiciously bright. “Our voices would make little difference.” He glanced towards the television van and said, “Look!”
Everyone turned around, growing quiet. The other protesters around the gates also looked towards the van, and soon the area was quiet. A reporter turned up the volume of the television that showed Jod, the Law Priest district. In front of the Mitra Judiciary Building stood a man with white hair. Despite his hair, he looked fairly young, maybe mid-thirties. He wore a loose brown jacket that reached his thighs, edged in black – a Law Steward. The screen beneath him read ’Law Steward Diket Varun’.
Diket stared into the camera silently for a long time. Finally he spoke. “Thirty minutes ago, Met Prous, originally from world 12,457, was exiled to the world Jahan for inciting terrorism attacks on Ferdinandea.” The crowd cried out in anger and shock, drowning out w
hatever else Diket had to say. The young man with purple hair started to cry. The blue-skinned woman looked ready to kill someone.
“I’m sorry,” David said.
Malmis turned, his face of picture of agony. “Thank you for your concern and sympathy.” He stepped forward and took David’s hands between his own. “You at least are trustworthy. I hope our paths may one day cross again.” Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against David’s.
David was so shocked he just stood there stupidly. Malmis pulled away almost immediately. He smiled sadly, nodded his head, and vanished back into the crowd, which was yelling and jostling each other about. “Um, what was that about?” David said, staring after Malmis stupidly.
Alosh laughed. “It’s probably just a custom from his home world. Don’t worry about it so much.” Then he winced, glancing over to Rolan. Rolan had his agitator out, and the crowd was quickly quieting down. David looked towards the televisions and saw riots in Jod, Shamla, and Jigok. The other Sword Priests pulled out their agitators as well, so David and Alosh did too. They kept them on stun, of course, but the threat was enough to quell the crowd. Slowly, the protesters started walking away, dragging their posters behind them, their faces miserable.
Once most of the crowd was gone, the reporters got in their van and flew off. Soon only the Sword Priests remained. For the first time David noticed that Bellon had been standing close to Rolan and Hue.
“Well done, everyone,” Rolan said. He smiled, but David thought he still looked tense.
“No injuries at all, not even in the crowd,” Tain said, joining Rolan and Hue. He was smiling brightly. “That’s always a good day.”
Rolan flicked out his com pad, his eyes skimming quickly over the screen. “We’re needed in Vele. Come on.” The sixth division formed up around him. Ornamented and highly sculpted parks surrounded Castle Eternal, separating it from the rest of Pardis. On the edge of the park sat a row of gateways. Rolan waved them through one, Hue leading the way.
