~~/*\~~ Ryder ~~/*\~~
Ryder drove them all in the news van to where Del had left his rental car. Amazingly, it had been left untouched. Ryder and Karla didn’t say a word to each other once Del had driven off. It took less than six minutes before Ryder’s phone rang.
It was Dion. “I understand you’ve arranged to free a man suspected of an international crime?” He said casually. “Have you arranged anything else? Because if you had that kind of power, I really could have used your help while negotiating my alimony.”
“I’m sorry, boss.” Ryder sighed. “It happened fast. They had a guy in cuffs, and I knew him. Not well, but enough to know he was innocent of the charges. I tried to tell the people in charge at this base, but they didn’t care, until… well-”
“Until you used your camera and threatened to make a story out of it.” Dion growled. “You could always find the Base Commander and tell the world where to find his kids; flash that up to the country.”
Ryder let out a breath. “I just… got startled. They had people driven here without charge. Black bags over their heads. No lawyers, no due process… The guy hadn’t even been charged with anything.”
“The Coalition isn’t a regular police force. They aren’t bound by our laws. As I recall, we’ve all agreed that their ‘unique status’ was the only way things were going to get done.” He let that hang for only a second. “And even if that was a major story for us to unpack, there’s also the basic rule of journalism that reporters aren’t involved in the story.”
“I know.” Ryder winced.
“You’re like nature photographers. The lion might be ripping into the antelope, but you don’t get out of the car to try and help it.” Dion reminded him. “Now. This is the first time it’s happened, so I’ll let it slide. If it happens again, you’re fired.”
“Yessir.”
“Look, the ‘New Believers’ thing is a Fringe Story. There’s always going to be fringe groups that won’t accept basic reality. The real story is what’s going on in broad daylight. Get out of there, and get to one of the Mainstream Churches. That’s where the real story is this week. Get Karla in front of the biggest one you can find.”
I could have told you that before we arrived. Ryder wanted to say, but he knew better, given how big a chance he’d taken with his career already. Why did you even send us here?
~~/*\~~
Jehovah God, I am so grateful that Ryder was there. Del prayed as he drove, heart still hammering. Of all the places a reporter could be during the biggest news week in history, he happened to be there, and willing to get me out. It seems so unlikely that it can’t possibly be a coincidence. So… thank you.
He kept praying, all the way back to the local Kingdom Hall. It was closed, of course, left empty between meetings. But the parking lot was private, and Del needed some more time to get his head together, so he parked, and lowered his head to pray again, still in the car. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the relief settled in, leaving him with a sudden wave of exhaustion.
Still praying, he was asleep before he even noticed he was dozing off.
~~/*\~~
“The whole conversation lasted less than ten minutes. I’m actually amazed at how easily they threw me out.” Nate remarked to Alvin. “I’d talked about my beliefs with them before, and they all seemed to have interesting things to say, but it was always so… respectful. Playful, even. Thought experiments.” He shook his head. “They were so… furious at me.”
“I wonder sometimes, what really makes people prejudiced.” Alvin nodded, as he turned at the corner. “I wonder what makes a group hated? Is it something individuals do? Something on the news, or from a leader that whips up a crowd into a mob? Or is it just that they get given permission to take out their frustrations on someone?”
Nate gazed out the window. “A question that gets more and more important over with each passing day. The Bible says ‘the whole world is lying in the power of the wicked one’. Ten minutes into Paradise, is anyone going to feel violent and hateful? And if Satan was the only thing making us into such monsters, then what need is there for God to strike out at the world in general?”
“We’ve never seen a world without Satan manipulating things.” Alvin offered. “My guess is, we’ll have a very different viewpoint on the nature of good and evil in people a thousand years from now.” He turned the car again. “Anyway, that’s for tomorrow. Today’s problem is to make sure everyone has what they need for the ‘Hailstone’ Message. We’re now on the clock to get our territory done.”
“Do we even have enough of those handbills to cover the whole territory?”
“We do. But barely. And more importantly, I don’t want them sitting in an empty Hall. The FRA has begun, which means the Tribulation is officially running. The U.N. might have a schedule, but there have already been attacks on Clergy, on Churches, on Halls as well. Someone throws a torch into our Hall, and burns up the last of our literature, we’ll make do without it, but why risk the waste? We don’t know how long this is going to last-”
“I think I can guess.” Nate offered. “You said it yourself: The FRA has a timetable. I’ve read it. Stage Three is the only one that affects the Witnesses in any serious way. When Phase Three begins, and it’s a matter of rounding up anyone who hasn’t signed the Renouncement, you think God is going to wait any longer than he needs to?”
“True enough, I just wonder what’s going to happen in the meantime. We’re going to have to close down the meetings soon.” Alvin commented to Nate. “Changing up the meeting times isn’t going to work much longer. There’s a mob parked at our driveway at the usual times. Some of our brothers are being followed home, hassled as they walk in.”
“To be honest, I don’t know if there’s any need for a Hall anymore. The COVID Pandemic proved we could keep up our meetings from home without missing a beat, and most of our usual lessons don’t apply anymore. Once the final message is done, is there any need for a ministry school? The Preaching Work is all but over.” Nate said as they pulled up near the Hall, checking the street for trouble. It was something they did automatically now, though there was no real point to it. The doors and windows were locked, but there was no real security to speak of. But Nate noticed someone parked in the otherwise empty parking lot. “Who’s tha- I don’t believe it.”
Alvin blinked, equally surprised. “Is that Del?”
~~/*\~~
Del came awake with a panicked shout as someone tapped on the window beside his head. He scrambled against his carseat, and froze when he saw Nate and Alvin outside. “Oh.” He opened the car door. “Hi.” He rasped.
“Good grief, Del. It’s only been a few days. Why do you look a hundred years older?” Alvin asked, hushed.
~~/*\~~
Nate went into the Hall to collect the pamphlets. Alvin stayed in the parking lot until he returned, and then dispatched him to get the three of them some food. Del was still recovering from his ordeal. While they were waiting for Nate to return, he managed to tell Alvin everything that happened.
“I couldn’t even get her on the phone. And I very nearly got myself killed just for trying.” Del summed up. “I feel like such an idiot. Everyone told me it was a fool’s errand.” He let out a hard breath. “But what really worries me is that… I could have surrendered. I was arrested before the announcement, but the guards put the questions to me. They told me about the FRA, and about the Renouncement. I hadn’t heard anything from another Witness, I hadn’t heard if it was okay, or not… And I was seriously considering saying ‘yes’.”
Heavy silence.
“I resisted the Witnesses when my wife studied with them. I wanted our home to be a place where all the ‘crazy’ in the world couldn’t reach. Then I joined up because my wife’s studies had given us both a new perspective on what ‘security’ really was in the world. And somehow, I’m here, on a virtual suicide mission.” He gave a crooked smile. “Stupid, ain’t I?”
“My grandmother was a Witness.” Alvin said quietly. “She attended the 1942 Convention. When the League of Nations disbanded, the Witnesses then knew it was coming, and that it would 'rise again'. According to my Grandmother, they had talks at that convention that broke down what would come next. Four years later, the United Nations was created.”
Del blinked, surprised. “Really?”
“They knew, in advance. They didn’t know what it would be called, or where it would be based, or who would say what; but they knew what to look for.” Alvin nodded. “We were given insight into a prophecy written thousands of years ago. A Bible sat in every home in the western hemisphere for generations. And out of thousands of religions, we alone saw this week’s news coming.” He spread his hands wide to Del. “But we didn’t know the details. If you didn’t know what to do, it’s because it’s never come up before. You got out before you had to decide alone.”
Del looked away from Alvin’s eyes, embarrassed. “I was so scared.”
“I would have been too.” Alvin nodded. “But even at that moment, Jehovah was fully in control of the situation; just like He was when my grandmother was seeing prophecy being fulfilled.”
(Author’s Note: This little conversation is based on the 1942 Convention, and a description of the talks in it from the ‘Revelation Climax’ book Chapter 34, Paragraphs 4-6, published by Jehovah’s Witnesses.)
“I guess He’s always been in control, hasn’t He?” Del nodded. “So why did I feel so… out of control?”
“Because you’re human.” Alvin said plainly. “Scripture is full of examples of faithful men who were ready to give up. Even people who had seen miracles and wonders sometimes reacted that way to what was right in their faces.” He shrugged. “Like any boxing match. The fighter knows he’s going to get hit and steps into the Ring anyway. He still ducks when the punch comes his way. And when he can’t duck, he has to take the hits and keep going.”
Del stared into space for a moment. “Yeah. And I gotta keep going.” He let out a breath hard between his teeth. “I live in an entirely different city. Only you and Nate know me here. The odds that someone who wasn’t a witness, but who knew me, and could get me out? The odds of him just showing up, happening to notice me, and making the effort, given the current world situation? To say nothing of the fact that I didn’t have to sign to get away? It’s not a coincidence.”
“I can’t speak for God, but it certainly looks that way to me, yes.” Alvin smiled. “If you ever doubt God’s attention, His love for you, or His ability to rescue you out of trouble; then I’d say you just got an answer.”
By then, Nate had returned with lunch. “I got sandwiches.” He said as he came over. “You’d be amazed how many places are closed right now. Shortages must be getting worse.”
~~/*\~~
They ate, and by the end of their lunch, color had returned to Del’s cheeks.
“I can drive you if you need a ride to the airport.”
“Your job is okay with that?”
“Well, that turned out to be the easy part.” Nate drawled. “When I went in to work yesterday, the staff were called together for a discussion about the Renouncement. My beliefs are not a mystery to any of the faculty, so I was asked to sign immediately. When I asked for a leave of absence, they fired me on the spot. So my days are free.”
“Yikes.” Del commented.
“Well, to be honest, I wasn’t planning on working there much longer anyway.” Nate said wryly. “So, you need a ride?”
“Thanks, but that’s actually the easiest part.” Del gestured at his car. “I still have the rental. I’ll have to return it at the airport anyway.”
“Here.” Nate handed Del a small slip of paper. “My number, and my address. If something goes wrong, come find me this time.”
Del took the slip. “Thanks. They took my phone, but if all goes well, I should be in the air before you make it back to your apartment anyway.” He looked at the note. “I shouldn’t have this with me when I go in. If something does go bad, I don’t want you connected to me.”
Nate scoffed. “If you think it’s going to go that way, you shouldn’t be at the airport in the first place.”
“I know. Sorry. I’m getting paranoid.” Del admitted. “Thanks for your help.”
They shook hands, but Nate didn’t let go right away, bowing his head. Understanding swiftly, Del did the same, and they both prayed quietly for a safe journey home. “Be safe.” Nate said when it was over.
Del thanked him again, and headed back to his car.
~~/*\~~
“Dion was right, you know.” Karla said as he set up the camera. “The mainstream is way more important right now. The report on the Fringe Groups won’t even make it to air until Stage Three rolls out.”
“Yeah.” Ryder admitted. “I don’t even know why we got sent out to the ‘Holdouts’ this early.”
“Looking for some footage of something being burned to the ground, I guess.” Karla quipped. “Still, your buddy Del would be in a world of hurt right now if we’d come here first.”
Ryder made no answer to that, not giving it any further thought. “Should I point the camera at you in front of the Church, or the crowds?”
Karla glanced around. “The steps. Let them see all the seized property being carried out.”
~~/*\~~
“Stage One of the Final Revelation Act is well underway.” Karla reported to the camera. “Seizure of all Religious icons and imagery, as you can see behind me.”
In the newsroom, Gordon was anchoring the report. “Karla, I’d like to make a quick reminder to our viewers that ‘icons’ are defined as ‘objects of veneration or worship’. This order does not extend to religious literature, or educational materials. Such things are now banned in public, but are still legal for personal use.”
“That’s correct, Gordon.” Karla nodded. “So far, the only real ‘gray area’ that anyone’s been unsure about are things like architecture and artworks. Cathedrals and Churches have been patrons for the most expensive artworks of the last thousand years. The U.N. ruled on that this morning. In the words of the Coalition’s official statement: ‘Nobody prays to DaVinci’s ‘Last Supper’ painting’.”
“If they did, those paintings will be next.” Gordon quipped. “How’s the mood there?”
“From the crowd? Curiosity, more than anything else.” Karla reported, gesturing to the crowd off-screen. “In this part of the world, the number of people who take the icons seriously is pretty minor. This is a matter of bringing the institutions into line. Not the people. Everyone is still free to believe whatever they want. They just can’t do so for profit or authority over another. Stage Two will deal with that more directly; but it’s not being enforced for another few days.”
“Tell us what you’re seeing there.”
“St Ambrose is one of the oldest Churches in this community, Gordon. All their icons have been seized, and are being carried out. There are scattered reports of some clergymen hiding their valuable icons, as they did in the middle-ages to prevent pillaging. So far the whole thing’s been pretty calm.”
While they spoke, Ryder noticed a familiar face in the background. As plainclothes officers carried out hymnals, direct to the fire-barrels, and others carried out artworks, to be taken for auction or destruction, the staff of the Church, still in their clerical robes and collars were escorted out of the premises, to waiting prisoner transport.
One of them was Bishop Fitzpatrick, whom Ryder hadn’t seen since sitting in Church with his father, years before.
“There are reports that some of the seized property is being destroyed on the spot.” Gordon put in. “Not just the literature, or the ‘surplus’ documentation. Actual relics or icons.”
“Gordon, some of the orthodox religions believe that the icons, even the wood and paint of the statues, and I’m quoting here: ‘can become filled with god’s presence’.” Karla reported. “The gold and silver is being melted down into bars for resale. The gemstones and finery have been seized and sold at auction as materials without shape. Things like stained glass and wooden carvings? These icons are illegal now, so there’s nothing more the authorities can do but set a match to it all. So far there hasn’t been a single icon that they’ve been unable to burn.”
~~/*\~~ Leahe ~~/*\~~
Leahe was adjusting to her changed workload. Carrying the yoke’s used by donkeys was a common thing for slaves. Leahe had been a water carrier, but that job was harder with only one hand. Her people were protecting her by giving her different duties. If she tried to appear as usual at the construction lines, a foreman would notice the ‘drop in efficiency’ sooner or later, and have her killed, to make room for someone with two hands.
Instead, Leahe was helping where she could in Goshen itself. The masters didn’t much care about the children and the elderly, besides from keeping the records. Leahe helped teach the children, helped support the older ones who could no longer work.
Takarut was teaching as well, under careful supervision. She noticed that he never mentioned Egyptian philosophy at all, which was a surprise. Every lesson in the kingdom was tied in to the King, or the gods, neither of which were part of the Hebrew teachings. But he was a better trained student than most of their people, who had been taught exclusively by their fathers and mothers.
That day, Leahe was heading down to the water. The Nile had returned to normal, and was finally free of the overabundance of frogs. Devra, freed from the Palace Dungeons by Satau was there too, hauling back the nets for the next catch. “The frogs have finally died off or left. We can get some actual fish at last. So can the other fishermen. They’ve been out of work since Moses got to Egypt.”
“The ones that are left.” Leahe agreed. “I hear from the domestic slaves that the fishing fleets are all shut down. Nobody thought they were worth owning anymore. Every catch was full of frogs, and that was after the whole Nile changed on them for a week.”
“You haven’t heard?” Devra was surprised. “Pharaoh gave an order yesterday morning that the fishermen are to go back to work or face the whip themselves. But he owns their boats now.” She flung out her nets into the water again, stretching her back stiffly. “Y’know, I’m glad? Even with the gnats, we finally get fish to eat again. It’s the one food source that we don’t rely on Egyptians for.”
(Author’s Note: For this scene, there are two points to keep in mind. Firstly, in Exodus 8:9-12, we learn that when Moses asked for the Plague of Frogs to be lifted, they remained in the Nile. How long that lasted is not stated. It could have lasted the whole time until the tenth plague, or it might have faded out once the Third Plague started. There’s no mention of lingering effects of individual plagues once the next one began; only the aftermath.
Secondly, Numbers 11:5 describes the Hebrews wishing they had fish again, as they had in Egypt. The scripture points out that it was free of charge, so likely the Hebrews did their own fishing. Of course, this is true of their entire time in Egypt, not merely during the Plagues. They were affected by the first few Plagues just as the Egyptians were.)
Sound carried well over the water, and the two of them paused, turning to look across the great, wide Nile, as they heard the faintest echo of Aaron’s voice. From that distance, it was barely audible, but it was clear he was thundering at someone.
“What now?” Leahe asked in disbelief.
~~/*\~~
Jambres had been part of a Procession to the idols of Anubis. With the recent losses and demonstration of supernatural power, the Temples were making an effort to remind the people who their gods were. Satau, as his second, was helping lead the prayers. But he could see the shift in intensity that had filled Egypt over the course of events. People were either far more grudging with their praise, or far more emphatic.
In a war of the gods, people were choosing their sides quickly.
When the parade ended, and Jambres oversaw the Icon being returned to the Shrine, Bakennifi was waiting to meet them. The Pharaoh’s Chief Advisor looked as professional as ever, but Satau could see the way his fingers were tightening on his folded arms. Whatever had happened, it had him nervous. When their father signaled it was alright for them to be informed too, he briefed them.
“While Pharaoh was inspecting the fishing fleet, Moses and Aaron confronted him again, demanding that the Hebrews be released from their service.” Bakennifi briefed the High Priest soon after. “They warned that the next Plague would be a heavy swarm of gadflies.”
Jambres let out a breath between his teeth, glancing back at his sons. “Satau, return to the Shrine of Ptah, prepare it for my arrival. I’ll be there shortly, as soon as I confer with the relevant Temples. We might yet be able to head this one off.”
Satau nodded crisply and hurried to his horse. As his father’s assistant, he knew he’d also have to get various props ready in the Shrine’s private office. His father would have to find a way to mimic this Plague too, as he did with the frogs and blood.
But for the first time, Satau started to wonder. He knew how the magic tricks were done when his father performed them. With practice, he could ‘conjure’ the blood and frogs himself. Not for the first time he struggled with the question: How do Moses and Aaron do it?
~~/*\~~
Satau had ridden along the Nile, trying to find a way around the crowds of people who had turned out for the procession. Now that it was over, the crowds were breaking up, but there were still delays. His horse had slowed to a gentle walk, when Satau heard a familiar voice. It was Aaron. Despite himself, Satau followed it, wanting to see what was happening.
Aaron was having a quick conference with a few Hebrews, who didn’t look happy. Moses was nowhere in sight, and the Hebrews in question were all Elders. Satau had heard that some of the older men of Goshen had begun following along whenever Moses and Aaron performed their miracles, or confronted the King. Takarut had told him that it was to keep the record. Egyptians used stone walls to recount their victories. The Hebrews used Papyrus or animal hides, unless they were limited to sharing the stories vocally.
“Surely Moses can tell when Pharaoh is lying, just to make it stop?” One of the men was shouting. “Why are you letting Pharaoh decide when these things end? He knows when they end: When he surrenders!”
“Why is Pharaoh even a part of this anymore? It’s clear he’s not about to see sense. Why doesn’t Jehovah just deal with him directly?” Another demanded.
Aaron spoke over them loudly. “Enough! First of all, we don’t decide what God does. He is perfectly capable of deciding for Himself. Secondly, Jehovah God surely knows that Pharaoh is just mocking him by pretending to capitulate; just as He surely knew Pharaoh would never let us go willingly. But by playing these games, Pharaoh is providing something: An opportunity.”
“To do what?”
“To expose the Egyptian gods.” Aaron said plainly. “Everything that Jehovah has done thus far has proven an Egyptian idol to be ineffective. Nonexistent. If Pharaoh wants his temples, or his idols to be worth more than the stone you dragged in, he’ll have to see that.”
Far enough away to go unnoticed, close enough to hear every word, Satau felt more flustered by that than anything else that had happened so far.
~~/*\~~ Nate ~~/*\~~
“It’s just a piece of paper!” The householder scorned. “My beliefs are my own, and they’re none of your business. You wanna get yourself killed over a piece of paper, you go right ahead, but leave me the hell out of it!”
The door slammed instantly, and Alvin traded a look with Nate, heading back to the street.
Nate had joined the door-to-door work. Doing so had changed since the FRA began. Working the territory was risky in some places. The Elders had been in rare form, keeping track of the work, by street, instead of any larger maps. There was often someone eager to call the police, though they weren’t violating any laws yet. The Witnesses handled it by preaching in seemingly random collections of houses, but the Elders were keeping track, making sure the whole territory would be covered in the least amount of time.
Nate had delivered bundles of the final pamphlets to others in the congregation, so they could keep up the work. He’d been given a list of addresses in return, and he joined the campaign for a few hours. He’d faced everything from an empty house, to a locked door, to outright fear or abuse. One woman had burst into tears when she’d seen him. Another had waved a butcher’s knife while he fled back to his car.
At every door, there was someone else from the group keeping watch, making sure he was safe. This final message was causing some serious friction, so there was a balance between preaching it safely, and doing so quickly.
“You agree with him?” Alvin asked casually.
“The Renouncement is a piece of paper.” Nate quipped. “So’s money, or a diploma, or a warrant. Symbols have power for a reason.”
Alvin smiled, pleased. “Indeed.”
~~/*\~~
At the end of the day, Nate returned to his apartment, ready to collapse on his couch and sleep for a week. But it was clear he wasn’t going to rest any time soon. When he made it to his apartment, he froze. His door was blocked by an ‘X’ of bright yellow tape. It looked like a crime scene.
“Evenin’.”
Nate spun and found his landlord coming up the stairs behind him. Nate wondered where he’d been parked, watching for him to return. “Guadalupe? What…? Is this Police tape?”
“No. But it will be soon enough.” Guadalupe told him. “Apparently there’s some questions about the ‘unsigned’.”
“Unsigned? The Deadline is still weeks away.” Nate protested.
“Well let me save you some time.” Guadalupe said politely, and held out a copy of the Renouncement, ready to be filled out. “You have a pen?”
Nate’s mouth became a thin line. “Where is this coming from, Guadalupe? We’ve always been… if not friends, then at least amiable.”
“You’ve been a fine tennant. No complaints, no damage, and rent is always on time.” Guadalupe agreed. “But I own other properties. There have been threats of violence against the Unsigned. I’ve heard on the news that some people are holding out in their homes, having shootouts with the Coalition…”
“I have no intention of violence, sir. I don’t even own a weapon.”
“I’m sure. But I’m not taking any chances.” Guadalupe glowered. “You know what the penalties are once that deadline passes? If you plan to sign before then, there’s no problem. Not with me, not with the Law… not with anyone.” He held out the paper. “So?”
Nate sighed. “You came all this way. You know what my answer is going to be.”
“Two days since you lost your job…” Guadalupe looked genuinely regretful over it for a moment. “I had hoped it might wise you up. You’re a good man, Nate. But I can’t take the chance.”
Nate sighed. “Yeah. Can I at least pack my things?”
“I’ve been getting calls from the bank, about my own ‘status’, and that of my tenants.” Guadalupe said, not looking at him. “I’ve already signed. And I’ll put your things in storage. Anything that’s… any contraband, I have to turn over to the authorities. If you can present me with a signed paper, you can have it all back, including your lease. But that’s still weeks away, and I need the rent money.”
Nate gave him a look. “What? You’re going to rent out my apartment for two weeks?”
“Okay.” Guadalupe sighed and confessed the real reason. “Your school called the tipline, too. They got in touch with me, and told me if you hadn’t signed, then they wanted to examine your personal effects for contraband.”
“My apartment is a crime scene now?”
“The official term they gave me is ‘person of interest’.” Guadalupe excused. “It isn’t personal.”
“Yeah.” Nate sighed. “Just like it wasn’t personal when my mechanic called to cancel my next appointment because he remembered I invited him to a convention once. Just like it wasn’t personal when my Dentist called to remind me he’d have to charge extra, because his insurance wouldn’t cover an ‘illegal’. Just like it wasn’t personal when I got a letter warning that my driver’s license would be revoked at the end of the month if the details weren’t brought ‘up to date’...”
“Nate, you sign this piece of paper, and it all goes away. You’ll be back at work by morning, and you can relax in your own home right now.”
Nate stared at the white page for a long moment, before he sighed, and turned to go, wearing and carrying everything left that he owned. Father Jehovah, what do I do now?
~~/*\~~
Del had been in one place way too long for comfort. He’d already missed his plane because of delays in the queues, and the terminal was jammed with people trying to catch another flight.
He was facing a night spent at the airport, and was feeling decidedly trapped. He’d prayed the whole time, consciously not closing his eyes or bowing his head, where others might see. He’d repeated the contact details he had to himself until they felt like gibberish in his memory.
He had to get home, but he couldn’t stay at the airport, but he didn’t want to give up, because he had to make it home. Every moment he didn’t spend praying for help, his thoughts were stuck in that loop.
He checked the screens for information for the ninth time in an hour, and decided to take one last crack at it. The airport had a cancellation line. The PA announced that there was a seat available on a flight that was at least heading in the direction of Mt Morgan. Close enough that he could probably get the rest of the way himself.
He couldn’t believe his luck when he made it to the check-in desk ahead of anyone else. “I understand there’s a seat available?”
The lady behind the counter nodded. “Yessir. Happy to help. You understand that due to the last minute nature of the flight, I can’t transfer your seat. Our system is currently dealing with a backlog anyway, so-”
“I’ve brought my credit cards.” Del didn’t hesitate, already holding it out. He wasn’t worried about spending too much money. What was there to save for?
She took it and scanned it. Whatever she saw on her screen, it made her sigh. “You haven’t signed yet?” She noted, gesturing at the sighed White Paper taped to the wall behind her, in full view of everyone in line.
Del felt his heart give a solid thump. “I… didn’t realize that was necessary. It’s still weeks away from the deadline.”
“It is.” The young woman nodded, unconcerned, as she handed him his credit card back. “But the airports are really worried about reprisals, for obvious reasons.” She tapped at her screen. “It’s slowing up the work, no question. Look, let me make it easy for you. I’ve got your contact details here, from scanning your card, and your ID… I can print out… There we are.” She reached behind her desk and pulled out a printed Renouncement, with his ID Photo and personal details already filled in digitally. “Sign here, and it’s all fixed.”
Del paused. “You can just… fill out a Renouncement for me, just like that?”
“It’s fairly easy to add personal details from any other ID in the system. No sense in making it hard for people. Everyone has to sign eventually.” The clerk said, as though this was obvious. She slid the Paper across to him, and held out a pen. “Sign there, please.”
The pen hit his fingers and he took it automatically. It had happened so fast he didn’t have time to think about avoiding it. And despite himself, he hesitated.
He thought of Eleanor and Jacen, alone in their apartment. He’d vowed to make their home a safe place, long before asking God for His own protection… The thought of them going through the scariest page in the history books without him there to support them…
God would surely understand. A silky little voice said to him silently. You don’t have to mean it. That piece of paper doesn’t say what’s really in your heart…
He shook that voice off instantly, and plastered a smile on his face. “Actually, never mind. I just thought of something I need to do before I fly.”
The lady’s face changed, as she realized he was refusing to sign. “Of course, that’s up to you... But you understand I can’t hold the ticket for you.”
“No, I’m sure there’s a long waiting list.” Del said easily. “No problem.” He was already backing away from the counter as fast as he could. He felt her eyes on him the entire time.
So, what now? Del asked himself. Any flight I could get would demand the same signature. I can’t stay at the airport, and there’s clearly no chance of flying home…
Del suddenly had a brainwave, and ran back to the Car Rental kiosk. When he made it to the front desk, he flashed his ID. “I brought my rental back a few hours ago. Has my return been processed yet?”
“Sir, nothing's been processed yet.” The kid behind the counter drawled, surrendering to the whole thing. “The whole system is overloaded. We’re marking down agreements on paper to put into the system later.”
Del nodded, pleased. “Then cross out my return. My flight is a non-starter. I need those wheels back.”
“Lot of that going around.” The kid checked Del’s ID, and scanned through her papers, crossing out the relevant entry and searching for the keys. “Sure. You’re lucky that you rented it a week ago. I couldn’t give you one today without a lot more paperwork.”
~~/*\~~ Satau ~~/*\~~
Satau returned to the Shrine and worked quickly, laying out the likely props his father would be working with. He’d learned enough about the magic tricks to know how to put one together. A talent he would need himself when Nem-ur was the King.
But he did it all without thinking too hard, focusing instead on the questions raised by Aaron’s words to his own people. None of the Elders knew what Moses was planning, so it wasn’t a massively organized conspiracy to perform these tricks.
Jambres and Khnem came into the Temple then, already discussing their likely response if Moses could summon another plague of insects.
Khnem was not allowed in the Shrine, where he might see the props for the magic tricks, but there was plenty more to cover. Egypt had faced gadflies and the diseases they carried before. The nation would have to be prepared. There was no mention of the possibility that Moses might not succeed. It was a given that he would fill the nation with the smallest, most irritating creatures the gods had ever made.
Egyptian Medicine was tied as closely into their gods as anything else they did, so there were plenty of records of treatment that included appeals to various gods; and which icons were left with the unhealthy ones in the past.
“Khnem,” Jambres said as they worked. “Issue orders to the craftsmen to start making more personal sized icons of Isis and Thoth. One assumes there will be a demand to invoke the gods of healing and life. We need things people can keep in their homes, and on their person.”
“I will inform them immediately.” Khnem rose to go.
“What good will that do?”
They all froze, turning to Satau; who was as surprised as they were to hear the question come out of his mouth. He’d had such questions for a while, but he knew better than to say them out loud.
Jambres slowly turned to face him. If he was surprised, it didn’t show. “Something you want to ask me, son?”
“Why are idols holy?” Satau demanded. “The Hebrews don’t use any, and it’s not slowing their God down at all.”
“Idols have the image of the divine.” His father said coolly. “They are made in the image of our gods, so of course the gods are part of them. The gods are generous. They let us take them into our homes, into our rooms, even keep them on our person. Yes, they’re symbols. But symbols have power. Especially symbols of the divine.”
“Everything Jehovah has done has been symbolic. The Nile, the food, the water, animals, even the dirt under our feet…” Satau countered. “All the gods-”
“We have gods for everything. How could Jehovah avoid them?” Jambres retorted. “Besides, the craftsmen can’t work on anything but idols anymore. Deliveries of stone and lumber are hopelessly behind schedule. We’ve recognized Jehovah as real. It’s a war of the gods now, and our people need to keep them close in mind. Easier to do when you can put them everywhere you look.”
~~/*\~~
“Alright, Khnem.” Satau said as they walked back to their rooms. “You’ve had that look on your face since Morning Prayers. What is it?”
“Nothing you don’t already know.” Khnem sighed. “If I had asked father such questions, I would have been flogged. Or at the very least, demoted. You can get away with it because you’re his successor.” He gave his brother a crooked smile. “I’ll never be more than an Acolyte. I know that, of course…”
Satau felt a knife edge of worry. Egypt had seen a few brothers turn on each other over inheritance. In powerful families especially. The Temples were hereditary, and as the older brother…
“No.” Khnem read his face easily. “I’m not nursing a grudge, or planning to overthrow you. Even if I did, father would never pick me.” He let a breath out between his teeth. “But if I want to… excel, I need to find a path to glory. One that I can follow.”
Satau fought to keep his smile in cheek. “Don’t let Ashura hear you say that.”
Despite himself, Khnem flushed. “She… She was interested in you, not that long ago.”
“She was interested in the magic tricks. She thinks seducing a Priest will make her holier somehow.” Satau scoffed.
“Who knows, maybe I’m still close enough.” Khnem commented. “Being the High Priest’s eldest son means I’m a good prospect, even if I have to look… elsewhere to make my mark.” His eyes glinted as they came back into the Courtyard. “I’ve been asking the gods to show me where to go next all week. I think I just got my answer.”
Satau followed his gaze, and saw a cohort of elite Military Chariots parked in the main road leading to the Temple. Aadesh was striding into the Palace, in his full regalia. His cohort remained in formation, not even gazing up at the magnificent temple. They were flawlessly disciplined.
Satau didn’t notice, but Khnem was looking earnestly at the soldiers, even after they passed by, on their way back to the Shrines.
~~/*\~~ Nate ~~/*\~~
Del was trying not to panic. The car that had been following him out of the airport was still in his rearview. He’d called Nate’s number from a payphone in the airport, and apparently gotten it wrong. He was still grateful he hadn’t written it down, since he was being followed.
When he’d refused to sign the Renouncement for his flight, he knew it was as good as a confession. At least one Airport security guard had followed him back to the Rental Desk. A black car with tinted windows had been following him since the Airport.
He knew it was probably paranoia. The traffic simply wasn’t moving fast enough in the vicinity of the airport to be certain where anyone was going, but when he’d turned off the main road, the black car had been unable to follow him and he felt better.
He’d memorized Nate’s address and drove to the apartment building, only to find the unmarked black car was right behind him again, after being out of sight for almost half an hour.
Idiot. Del told himself. It’s a rental car. Of course they have it tracked by GPS.
And when he arrived at Nate’s address, it didn’t matter, since the police were there, carrying boxes out of the building, and loading them into their cars.
Nate’s already been arrested? Del couldn’t believe it.
With no other place to go, he started driving, going for distance away from the whole mess. Maybe I should just try and drive to Mount Morgan? He wondered. It’d be a long haul, but… No. I’d never get across the border.
Del was out of ideas. If he was back at Mount Morgan, he’d know where to find several other witnesses, and have somewhere to touch base. But here, he only knew where to find the Hall, and Nate’s apartment. Both of which were already closed.
And wherever he went, he felt sure that the unmarked black car was sure to follow.
Father, He prayed as he drove, feeling eyes on him every second. What do I do now? You can save me out of any trial and danger. In fact you’ve done it once already; but if there’s something you need me to do here, please-
There was a sudden bang, and a tug on the steering wheel. Del let out a shout, before his brain caught up and he realized he had a flat tire. Just to add the icing to the cake.
He pulled it over, car wobbling as he pulled over at an intersection, out of the traffic. The car that had been following him drove on, the tinted windows giving away nothing as it went past, and turned at the intersection. Del watched with half an eye as it turned at the next corner. He knew it would be back as soon as it came around the block.
Del stepped out of the car, wondering what to do. He went to the trunk, and checked for a spare. It wasn’t there.
Now I have to call the rental agency. Del thought. Maybe those guys in the black car will give me a ride back. The thought made him scoff mirthlessly.
A car pulled up alongside him. “Del? Is that you?”
Del looked up in shock. “Nate?” He burst out laughing.
~~/*\~~
The rental was parked legally, even with a flat, so he locked it and got into Nate’s car. The black car with tinted windows came around the corner after they got moving, pulling up at the next corner, waiting.
They think I went for a new tire. Del thought. They’re waiting for me to come back, since the car is what they’re tracking.
Watching in Nate’s rearview, Del was sure they hadn’t seen him get in, not knowing he had a new vehicle. “When it was clear I couldn’t get on a plane, I went back for the rental. The place was crammed so much I knew I’d never get a cab; and with the traffic it’d probably be cheaper to buy a car than pay the fare. Your address and the Hall were the only places I knew to go, but they’d already been seized-”
“My former employers placed a call to my landlord, to see if I’d changed my mind.”
“Your landlord. Not you?”
Nate agreed with the implication. “Someone wanted to punish me for not signing with the rest of the staff. I can probably guess who.” He grinned. “That flat tire? I had no idea you’d missed your flight. I thought you’d be home by now. If your wheel had blown even ten seconds later, you’d have been past that intersection and I never would have seen you.”
Del laughed hysterically, relief making him giddy. “Mysterious ways, indeed.”
~~/*\~~
“That was good work at St Ambrose.” Dion said to Ryder over the speakerphone, as the news van threaded its way through traffic. “But it turns out we’re not done there yet. I need you to do a followup.”
“On what, exactly?”
“Bishop Fitzpatrick started out at St Ambrose as their local Priest. He’s currently the highest ranking member of the leadership in this country to already be taken into custody.”
“What was the charge?”
“There wasn’t one exactly. Remember that the Coalition has authority over national forces. They tell every country to start collecting all Church Holdings, and one local commander takes that to mean ‘just the cash’, and another takes it to mean ‘arrest the people involved’.” Dion reported. “Given that the FRA ends with all citizens signing the pledge, nobody’s going to care about them ‘noticing’ some people a little early.”
“Sounds… chaotic.” Karla observed.
“Chaotic process, but we’re getting somewhere.” Dion assured them.
(Author’s Note: This kind of ‘chaos’ has two purposes. First: It gives me leeway as the author. We don’t know what exactly the Tribulation will look like, what the process will be, how the world will be affected, either on the surface or behind the scenes; or even what the instructions for Witnesses will be in the meantime. There’s information to make an educated guess about some of it, but almost none of the details. This is all my invention.
Second: It serves to create tension. By making the ‘rollout’ of the new laws a bit messy and disorganized, it underlines the difference between worldly leadership, and Godly rule. We know that there’ll be no such thing as ‘neutral ground’ during that time, but exactly how fast or how hard the ‘Fall of Babylon The Great’ might be on individuals is an open question.)
“So, what’s the followup story?” Ryder asked.
“The Bishop is at the courthouse. Apparently, he’s cut a deal with the Authorities. He wants to make an announcement, followed by an interview. There’ll be press when he’s released from custody. But he wants the interview done in his home. He’s asked for you. Any ideas why?”
“My father and Bishop Fitzpatrick go way back.” Ryder explained. “My dad was his lawyer when some of the Child Abuse cases came out. If he’s looking for someone to take it easy on him-”
“He’s not going to get that, because I’ve written the questions we plan to ask. Karla will handle the interview. To make sure there’s no hint of impropriety, you’re just going to record, and leave the editing up to us back here. Karla, go for his throat.”
“Yes sir.” Karla promised.
Ryder said nothing, but he understood. He was still on shaky ground after getting Del out of custody. Fitzpatrick had requested him, because of their family history, and Dion wanted the exclusive interview. Ryder’s job was to get the Bishop to sit down in front of the camera, and say nothing else.
Fine with me. He thought, and took the next turn.
~~/*\~~
At the knock on his door, Alvin looked through his peephole, and opened it for Del. “You didn’t make it home?”
“The airports demanded to see Renouncements before they let you on a plane.” Del reported. “They’re worried about another 9/11 over outlawing religion… which is something I would have expected if I was smart.” He rubbed his face. “My motel was right by the airport. All their customers were passengers; so they demanded to see a signed Renouncement too. Of course, I didn’t have one, so they told me I couldn’t stay with them any longer.”
“I’m getting the same thing from every side too.” Nate admitted. “I’ve been ejected from the human race until I sign.”
Alvin shook his head. “I thought the deadline was still weeks away.”
“For the general public, but a lot of people are hurrying to get things done first. People who have reason to go into hiding would be crossing borders, or staying in motels, or taking planes.” Del smirked wryly. “People like me.”
“Aliens and foreign residents’ indeed.” Alvin commented. “Well, I don’t have a landlord. Don’t even have a family anymore, so you’re welcome to ride it out here for a while.”
~~/*\~~ Nem-ur ~~/*\~~
Pharaoh sent his entire Court away, and gave General Aadesh a private audience. There was nobody in attendance except the King, the Prince, and the General.
“I’ve cleared the room because I need you to speak your mind, General.” Pharaoh said seriously. “Your report, please?”
“I’ve been studying Slave Uprisings as they happened in other lands. None of them included the use of natural disasters, or miraculous events. Some rebellions took advantage of unique circumstances, of course; but those are a very small minority. ‘Natural’ disasters can’t be counted on, or planned for.”
“And yet Moses has been able to predict them at will.”
“Yes sir. But he’s taking no actions to press the advantage they give him.” Aadesh said clearly. “If he was going to lead a rebellion, his best chance was when the Nile was… muddy.”
“So this isn’t a rebellion?” Nem-ur asked.
“No, it clearly is.” Aadesh sounded certain. “If Moses can indeed conjure this dark magic, then there’s a clear method at work. The first plague was a strike on the infrastructure of Egypt. The second and third, were most strongly affecting the luxuries that slaves do not possess. Moses is lashing out at the wealthier half of Egypt.”
“To say nothing of what this whole campaign is doing against the Priesthood.” Pharaoh added. “That’s an attack on our infrastructure too.”
“In most slave rebellions, it’s reactive. Something happens that angers the populace, and they lash out.” Aadesh continued. “The uprisings that succeed are varied, but they all have three things in common. First, they are carefully planned. Second, the ringleaders are patient and methodical… And most important of all, they have a wide base of support. When they have numbers, whether by direct action, or guerrilla action, they have the best chance of success.”
“And in the case of Moses?”
“Our information says the slaves were uncertain, and ready to lynch him after his first confrontation with you, but when the workload doubled, there was a much stronger reaction, as he was offering them an alternative… and after the Nile happened, the Hebrews were united behind Moses totally.”
Nem-ur reacted. “Could the Plagues be meant to ‘rally the troops’ in Goshen more than any attack on us?”
“Very likely both.” Aadesh agreed. “That’s the bad news. The good news is that tactically, we have the advantage. Our reports say the Slaves are not preparing any weapons, or building any fortifications. They’re not taking advantage of the losses to our infrastructure beyond getting a few days off here and there.”
“So is this a prelude to an attack, or isn’t it?” Pharaoh demanded. “You’re my chief strategist, and the leader of my military. What, in your opinion, is Moses’ strategy?”
The General considered his response carefully. “In my opinion, he’s causing disruption. Maybe he thinks his God will fight the war for him, maybe he actually wants what he’s asking for. But the difference between a military attack and a slave uprising is that we always have a measure of power over slaves. If they make any kind of attack on us, we can still match them in military power, to say nothing of the fact that their women and children are within easy reach, so close in Goshen.”
Pharaoh swiftly understood. “But if we did let the Hebrews go, they could get their children safely out of reach of reprisals from us.”
“Their enslavement began with the Goshen Campaigns. Moses is the only known survivor of that attack. It would make sense if his strategy was built around the idea of making sure it couldn’t happen again.” Aadesh agreed. “If that’s his plan, then patience is as much your weapon as his.”
(Author’s Note: The book of Exodus makes it clear that the killing of the firstborn was likely less successful than Pharoah planned. Even so, Moses is the only one specifically named as a survivor. Obviously there’s no objective witness. I wrote it this way because I liked the symbolism.)
“How so?” The Prince asked, curious.
His father answered before the General could. “Because Goshen has to go through these Plagues the same as we do. And we have the capacity to wait out the ‘siege’ in a way that a slave community can’t. Egypt is still more comfortable than Goshen. It always will be, if only because we set their rations and workload.”
General Aadesh nodded. “That’s my assessment, my lord. Let them go, and they’ll walk out with their children, and storm back a week later with a full scale invasion. Six hundred thousand men that have been performing hard labor all their lives, with generations of resentment to fuel them. We’d probably win, but it’ll be more devastating than a plague of frogs or gnats could ever be.”
~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~
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