Magnus might have provided a clever entrance, but the raven didn’t have the capacity to rummage through any personal possessions, and the priest didn’t seem like he would start talking to himself either.
Justin was about to express his frustration at their inability to learn anything useful when a soft chime sounded. “Enter,” called the Grand Disciple. Several moments later, the screen leading into the room parted, and a young man in a temple uniform entered with a Cloistered woman.
The woman was a mystery, but Justin soon recognized the man as Hansen, the deacon who’d let them in earlier. He knelt and kissed the Grand Disciple’s ring while the woman held back, much as Mae had earlier.
“Your piousness,” Hansen said. “I’ve brought her, as you asked.”
“Excellent, Timothy,” intoned the priest. He gestured Hansen to his feet and looked past him to the woman. “Unveil.”
The woman did as bidden. She was no one Justin recognized, but she was lovely, especially for an Arcadian. Her dark hair, though pulled back, was still clearly thick and luxurious, and neither it nor her skin showed any sign of Cain. She looked to be about eighteen and kept her eyes lowered, as was proper. The Grand Disciple grunted in approval.
“You may wait for me in the bedroom,” he said. The girl gave an obedient nod, and Justin watched as she slipped out of the room.
Glancing back at the priest, he saw a lascivious expression cross the older man’s features. So much for him being above the distractions of women.
You’re not watching the right person, said Magnus.
For a moment, Justin was confused, then he focused on Hansen who, after watching the girl leave, glanced back at the priest—with undisguised contempt. The expression was fleeting, and when the priest turned back, Hansen’s face was smooth and subservient once more.
“Your piousness,” said Hansen carefully. “I’ve saved enough money to make Elaina a proper wife now. How much longer will we have to wait?”
The Grand Disciple gave him a patronizing smile. “Patience, Timothy. It’s not about money so much as Nehitimar’s will, and right now, the god wills that she remain a concubine.”
“But why?” blurted out Hansen. He immediately looked chagrined for daring to ask.
“Because if she is your wife, then she must keep her body only unto you. As long as she is a concubine, I am able to continue giving her my blessing. That pleases Nehitimar. Doesn’t it please you as well?”
“Giving her my blessing”? That’s what he has the audacity to call it? Justin wondered.
It may please their god, noted Magnus. But it doesn’t please Hansen.
The raven was right. Even as the young man murmured his agreement, Justin could see the angry glint in his eyes. The Grand Disciple was either too full of himself to notice or—mostly likely—didn’t care. No surprise coming from a man who lived in splendor and excess while much of the country remained impoverished.
“You know how difficult my work is,” continued the Grand Disciple. “Nehitimar requires many sacrifices of me, and I must take my pleasures where I can to continue his work—even if that requires sacrifices on the part of others. You understand.”
“Of course,” said Hansen.
Hansen would punch him right now if he could, Justin noted.
“Don’t worry,” said the elder priest. “If all goes well with your mission into the Lost Lands, Nehitimar will undoubtedly reward you with marriage. And I of course will look after Elaina while you’re away.”
“Thank you, your piousness.”
The Grand Disciple strolled around the room, hands clasped behind his back. “Have you found an acceptable group to go on the expedition?”
“I’m finalizing it,” said Hansen, seeming more at ease discussing business than Elaina. “If the Gemmans will allow us to enter as you plan, I’ll make sure to have some of Nehitimar’s best spokespeople go, along with those you’ve trained to disable the Gemman media stream.”
It happened so quickly that Justin was almost certain he’d misheard. Wait, what did he say?
Shh, cautioned Magnus. The scenery around them flickered slightly in Justin’s vision, and he forced himself to focus back on the two men in the room.
“It’s just . . .” Hansen started to continue but stopped.
“Yes?” asked the Grand Disciple. Again, Justin’s vision flickered.
“Even if the country is plunged into as much chaos as you say it will be, can a handful of our best missionaries truly effect change in that godless land?”
“It’s okay for you to have doubts, Timothy. You can’t even begin to imagine the extent upon which their society rests on their media. It’s not as simple as television here. Everything is wired into one system: entertainment, news, security, identity. Disable that, even for hours, and you’d throw off their world order. If we can keep it down for a few days as planned, it will be like bringing back the Dark Ages. Some will be scared. Some will listen to our people, and the seeds will be planted. In the meantime, the lapse will allow our military to strike and seize back some of our most prized borderlands—lands which may have women even more beautiful than Elaina.” The Grand Disciple gave him a knowing smile. “You might have a greater reward than her ahead of you.”
“I only want her,” insisted Hansen with a frown. “And I’m dedicated to this mission. You know that. It just seems like if so much is riding on this media stream, it won’t be easy to take down.”
“That’s why our people have been studying it for so long,” explained the other man. He wavered in Justin’s vision, and the disorienting sensation made it hard to follow the conversation. “Cowlitz and his men know what they’re doing. But they truly need to be within Gemman borders to make their plan work. The president and his advisors support us, if we can only find our opening.”
The priest started to say more, but Justin couldn’t follow it any longer. What’s happening? he asked Magnus.
You’ve been out of your body too long, and your control is slipping. The raven lifted up from the window’s edge and flew into the night. Whereas before Justin had felt like he was one with the bird, he now had the sensation of clinging on for dear life.
No! he insisted. Go back! We need to hear more. They’re talking about taking down the f**king media stream! Do you know how serious that is?
All I know is how serious getting you back to your body is, countered Magnus. If you aren’t rejoined soon, bad things will happen.
How bad? asked Justin.
Magnus’s voice was grim. The kind of bad where your soul is permanently severed from your body and wanders the earth forever.
CHAPTER 16
Good Provincial Girls
Tessa got her hair cut just before Dr. Cassidy’s event, much to Daphne’s dismay.
“You’ve lost your rustic provincial feel,” Daphne exclaimed, as she adjusted the tiny microphone hidden in Tessa’s collar. “That’s half your appeal.”
“Thanks,” said Tessa dryly. Her hair was still long by Gemman standards, reaching her shoulder blades. She’d gotten it edged and layered in a more modern way that helped lighten some of the weight.
In Panama, most girls her age wore their hair elaborately up or braided, so length and blunt edges were the goals there. “And I actually think it’s going to help me. Dr. Cassidy wants to show me off as some kind of poster child for Gemman assimilation. Looking the part—and not like I just came in from the provinces—will convince them how great the RUNA’s been for me.”
Daphne made a noncommittal grunt and stepped back to survey Tessa. “Maybe,” was all Daphne would acknowledge. “But you don’t want to come off as too worldly and sophisticated. If you get caught doing something you shouldn’t be, you’ll want to play up that provincial naiveté.”
“I’m not going to do anything except what I’m asked,” Tessa told her, for what felt like the hundredth time. “I’m not cracking safes or hacking encrypted files.”
And Daphne responded with the same refrain she’d been giving Tessa for the last couple of days. “You’re going to be in the man’s house! This is a golden opportunity, better than we could have hoped for. You’ve got to maximize that. You might end up being president of the YCC and never get a chance like this again.”
Tessa shook her head. “No. I’m not doing anything like that. I’ll try to stick around the donors as much as possible so you can get some good sound bites, but that’s it. Besides, if Dr. Cassidy really does have some involvement with a religion, and if he is consequently getting the rest of the Citizens Party involved, it’s not like there’s going to be one document I can seize that’s got it all laid out for you to exploit.”
“No,” Daphne agreed. “And it’s also unlikely we’ll be lucky enough that this group of donors is made up of cult leaders giving us the story we need. All the sound bites in the world will be pointless if there’s nothing in them.”
“Because maybe there’s nothing here at all in the first place.”
Again, it was an argument Tessa had made many times. Daphne was familiar with it and shook her head with a mix of what seemed like amusement and exasperation.
“Go,” she said, pointing at the door. “Find me something good.”
They were at North Prime’s offices downtown, in order to make sure the surveillance equipment was working. Tessa had already dressed at home before coming out, in a black skirt and white blouse as requested, and had only a short trip to make back to the YCC’s building. There, she met up with Acacia and three other lucky chosen members who were helping out at the event tonight. Dag was her bodyguard of the day and accompanied them on the car ride out to Dr. Cassidy’s house, per arrangements Tessa had made earlier. At first, Acacia and Dr. Cassidy had been uncertain how to deal with Tessa’s protective arrangements, but upon learning she might have a praetorian in tow, they’d been quite charmed with the idea and asked that Dag come in uniform. Tessa would still go about her tasks at the party while he stayed stationed at the door, adding further gravitas to the affair. Dag had had no problem being on display, so long as he could be sure Tessa was safe and that he would be given dinner.
Being a political party’s therapist must have paid pretty well, judging from the size of Dr. Cassidy’s house and lawn. Although it was dinnertime, the summer evening still offered plenty of light and warmth so that he was able to host his guests out on an expansive patio and terrace area. There were about twenty couples invited, spread out among small round tables set with perfect linens and crystal. Hired wait staff and caterers handled the most intense labor, while Tessa and her student colleagues ran errands and took on small tasks. Tessa herself was on champagne duty, going from table to table to check on glasses, after Acacia had assured her that tipsy donors were generous donors.
“Tessa,” Dr. Cassidy called, as she passed by him at one point.
“Come here a moment.”
He’d hardly sat down all night and had instead flitted around to interact with his tables of guests. He stood over one such table now, and Tessa hurried over to him, her champagne bottle poised for refills.
“Set that down for a moment,” he told her amiably. “I’d like to introduce you to some people.”
She and the other YCC students had already been introduced to various guests throughout the night, so this was something she was prepared for. She and the others, under Acacia’s tutelage, had perfected their roles as upstanding youth greatly benefitting from the Citizens Party’s guidance. Tessa expected more of the same here, but when Dr. Cassidy highlighted one of his guests specifically, she suddenly knew why she’d been invited tonight.
“And this is Adora Zimmer,” he said, indicating a middle aged woman sitting to his right. “CEO of Garnet Industries. That’s not even the most interesting thing about her. Adora has a background much like yours, having coming to the RUNA in her youth and earning citizenship. Adora, Tessa’s with us from Panama and attends Creative Minds—when not helping me pour champagne.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Adora. She bore no trace of an accent, and Tessa could only guess at some European ancestry, based on her surname and appearance. “I love success stories of other provincials finding greatness in our country—and clearly you have! I have a colleague whose daughter goes to your school. It’s not easy to get into.”
“Tessa’s quite an exceptional student,” Dr. Cassidy quickly said.
“That, and she’s fortunate to have a benefactor who’s an old friend of Senator Darling’s. And you all know how concerned the senator is about seeing young people develop their full potential. His aid’s helped Tessa in her Gemman journey.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Tessa’s student visa and enrollment at Creative Minds had been Justin’s finagling, but she knew better than to ruin Dr. Cassidy’s performance and simply skirted the subject of who could claim credit for her. “I’m so lucky to be here,” she said. “In Panama, all my education came from home tutors, and the subjects were pretty limited. It was nothing compared to what I’ve been able to learn here.” She gave Adora a shy smile. “It’s especially inspiring to meet someone like you, Ms. Zimmer, knowing that no matter where I was born, I can succeed if I make use of all the Gemman opportunities being offered to me.”
“Of course you can, dear,” said Adora, face softening. “People like us have to work extra hard, but if we persevere, we can achieve anything we like. I help fund a group that’s been instrumental in lobbying for more immigration opportunities for provincial youth with outstanding potential. A good provincial girl is exactly the kind of role model I’m always talking about.”