When he had gone to the Father’s chapel, he had never been able to describe the
way he felt to be in the presence of one of the greatest men in the world. He could make
you feel at peace with yourself by just asking you if you loved yourself, because then
you’d know what you thought of who you were.

On that day, he had asked Job to tell him exactly why he hated religions and why he
thought they were not important. Job had looked at him frostily, not wanting to accept
that this old man was going to get him to change the way he had been ever since he was
born.

But he had come. He was there and he was listening to the way the old man spoke to him
about the air and the weather. He talked as if Job were the friendliest man he had ever
known, as if it were a two-man conversation.

But it wasn’t. Job stayed mute and refused to talk and Father Mateo chatted on and
on about anything his mind could get a grip on. He was a gentle man that spoke in a soft
way, that stressed his words carefully. He spoke of all things as if they were all pure,
but in reality they weren’t. Nothing was pure because God was not among them and they
all needed the breath of righteousness to be alive.

Job listened, but tried to hide his interest in what was being said. He heard the words
and tried to toss them aside as if they nothing, but he found himself drinking them in,
trying to figure out what was being meant by them. He knew he could not fool anyone, not
even himself. Just by accepting the invitation Father Mateo had given him, he was already
in it. There was no turning back when he had stepped forward of his own will. If he was
caught in this place, if Father were to swarm the courtyard with a thousand clerics, there
was no excuse he could make up that would not make them kill him, even if he claimed he
were a hostage, because then they would think he had told the enemy everything.

But as he walked with Father Mateo, he felt himself relax into a position where he
looked up at the sky and noticed the different shades of blue it was and how many birds
fit and overflowed in it. It was very interesting how in the Old Part of the city, there
seemed to more colors, more hues that used the whole color spectrum. But in the New Part,
there were only shades of black and white. Even the sky here was different. It had more
blues, and no grays -

" You know, it is always the sky you guys look to. Every single one of you clerics
I have brought here, I have noticed they all look to the sky the first time they get here
and I talk to them. You may say you don’t believe in God and hate religions, but I
know you feel the power of God when you’re out in Nature. He’s in your
subconscious, whispering to you to look up and see Him in His glory. You know He’s in
you and that He exists, no matter how hard you lie to yourself that it’s all fantasy
and fairies. But you look, just to make sure He’s there." He gave Job a curious
look. " Well? Is He?"

Job tried to scoff, but he knew this old man had just read his very mind and that there
was no amount of acting that would make him believe he wasn’t right. He just wanted
to let go, to stop being so stiff and live life. Having no religions meant no holidays, no
times when you could take all the time in the world to just reflect on life and yourself.
When he had time off from patrol and Guard duty, he was made to read the Father’s
texts that proclaimed and reviewed the policy of secular order. They read the works of
Galileo, Leonardo da Vinci and others who had proved there was no God that created the
earth in the center of His universe, that everything had to do with science and
technology. Miracles were disproved and the Bible was ripped apart, page by page. Muslims
were force-fed pork, and Buddhists were made to teach everything that went against their
tender ways...

He only wanted to be able to let the load off. And he realized that as soon as he was
in Father Mateo’s company, he felt he could do that. He could think himself able of
not telling him off for talking about God, about not wanting to cut his throat when he
recited verses from the Bible.

Job looked into a pool that they were passing, full of ducks and fish living in
harmony. He reflected on the question. " Can I speak honestly?"

" Yes, my son. There is no one here but me to make you sorry for your words, and
what can an old man do to a strong, young man?"

" Well, I think He’s here when we want Him to be."

" Why? If He is God, why isn’t He here when He wants to be? Why must He wait
for our permission to arrive?"

Job tried to read the man’s face to see if he was making fun of him. But the old
face was genuinely wanting to know. So he said, " Because He needs to be in us to be
known. He may be powerful and all-knowing, but what is He without us? What was the purpose
He needed for man but to open the doors for Him so that He could pass?"

" That is a good question. And now I ask you to answer it yourself and find
meaning in it for your need."

" What need?"

" The need for God to fill in the hole that makes you follow the orders of a man
you do not agree with."

" And how do you know I don’t agree with him?"

" Because. You may think you are tough and you belittle me in your Cleric uniform
and boots. That there is nothing in you that makes you stand out, nothing that makes you
drift from the path you are set upon. But what happens when someone looks deep into you
and sees all the things you have been hiding, all the things you believe in?"

" And who has the power to do that?"

" God," he whispered.

The Pope kept walking as Job stopped. He had his hands in his sleeves and kept going as
if what he had said had been nothing.

Job was getting a little disturbed with the words the Pope was saying. He clenched his
fists, angry he had no knowledge of the Bible to shoot back at the Pope all the lies there
probably were in the there. " And why would I give God that kind of permission? Why
does he deserve it?" he asked, with a touch of anger.

The Pope now turned and looked back at Job with warm eyes. " Because He’s the
only who can make it all better."

" And what good does it do God to be able to have this power? If I don’t want
Him to come into me, He can’t."

The Pope remained silent a moment, trying to figure the best way to respond to what Job
had said. He finally raised his head to look Job straight in the eyes, and said, "
‘ He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries
them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.’ Isaiah 40:11. What
does that mean to you, Job?"

" Why does it have to mean anything at all? Why does He have to be the good guy in
all this? Why can’t you see that maybe living in a secular order is better for you
than in believing the false lies of a bunch of men you’re never sure existed! How
could not a man, a normal man, named Jesus written all this to have you fools praise him
for doing nothing at all? He just probably wanted fame, and what better way to do it than
with a book all people will be duped into believing."

Father Mateo looked at him closely. " Do you really think that? Is that what they
have taught you to believe in The System so you never learn the truth of what God
is?"

" The truth about God? I’ll tell you what the truth is. He’s nothing but
a figment of your imagination, nothing but a show put on for you so you don’t waste
your lives away."

" And even if that was so, even if God and Jesus were not real, do you think
it’s really bad for us? Does belonging on a certain path make you off the worse? He
teaches you virtue and patience and love and kindness. Are those bad qualities to have? Or
is this way of living better?" He swept his arm in the direction of where the New
Part lay. " The way where millions of people commit suicide every day? You’re
one of the Prestige Clerics, you have access to all the records. Tell me, how many people
have you witnessed that have thrown themselves off the Altar Steps? How many people have
assembled in the Parish Grounds and allowed themselves to be killed? Do you think you
would die for something you don’t believe in?"

" According to you, I already am."

" No. I said something you believe in." He smiled at his trick. "
I know you don’t believe in all the things you stand up and fight for. You shed
blood, but it is blood squeezed from you, not given willingly."

" And how do you know that?"

" I know your parents wouldn’t raise you that way."

Job’s brow set. " What?" He stared at the Pope and rewound in his mind
what he had heard. " You knew my parents?"

" Yes."

" How?"

" I was in Italy before I heard I was needed here. Your parents had been very
devout Catholics, had they not? I had met them at Vatican City some twenty years ago. They
had shook my hand and I accepted the offering they gave to the church of twenty thousand
dollars."

" But my parents weren’t rich. My father was The System’s headmaster
along with Father, and my mother taught at The Monastery. They received no money for
that."

" They did more than live The System. They were against it, too. By day
they fought for Father, and by night, they fought for God. There are many people you
wouldn’t dream of who had need for being protected against The System. Your parents
had access to records, the way you do now, and they could easily push suspicion away from
the pilates who payed them to do so. They were some of the few people who didn’t
falter in genius when the clerics overran the city. They kept clear heads and foretold the
future. So they infiltrated the ranks of the opposition, and formed the first
Movement."

" That can’t be. My father would’ve been killed if he had been found
out."

" He was found out, sadly."

" But he died on duty, killed by a pilate."

" Is that what they told you? James was beheaded by Father himself. They fed you
that lie so you would never find out your father, one of the most prestigious clerics of
the early System, was able to fool and hold back the cleric army by himself."

Job was silent for a moment, staring down at the walk as he listened. Then he raised
his head in distress and said, " And what does that have to do with me?"

The day that he was let out, Ezra and Christian were waiting for him in the hospital
lobby. Two men had been assigned to help Job home, sent especially by the Father. Job was
hesitant to let them each take him by the elbow and help him down the steps and to the car
that Christian had waiting for him.

" Do you feel any safer?" Christian asked, opening the door for him.

Job patted Ezra’s head, who moved his tail slightly. " Much," he lied,
glancing at the guns in the belts of the two nurses.

" Well, good. I’ll take you home now, okay?"

Job settled next to Christian and waited for the nurses and Ezra to get into the back
seat. " Thank you. Have you any news for me?"

" Yes," Christian said, driving the car down the circular driveway of the
hospital.

" Father has decided to send in the cleric now."

" Who is it?"

" Couldn’t tell you."

" Don’t you know?"

" No, and I don’t think Father will tell anyone. It would blow the
cleric’s cover very fast. Don’t you think?"

Job stared down at his hands on his lap. " Right. Do we get to hear any
information about The Mission?"

" We get to know that it’s a direct attack on the Pope himself and any
Guardians found in his company the moment of the haul. It is to be a complete infiltration
of the Catholic sect and there will be many prisoners."

" Prisoners? Why now?"

" They will be made examples out of. You know they are the only religion who has
lifted a hand against us. Why? Because the others won’t rise against us until they
see the success of The Movement. That is why we have to get the queen bee and make an
example of her."

" The Pope," Job whispered.

Christian said nothing and headed for the Complex. " Are you two to be with him
until he heals?" he asked the two nurses.

" No, sir. We were only told to make sure he was home," one said.