Starfist: Lazarus Rising (19 page)

Charles did not know what to say. "You're safe now, Colleen. Look, those things are flesh and blood. They aren't ‘devils,’ they're not supernatural beings. They die when attacked. Look at how Zechariah and the others slaughtered them in the stream on their way here. If they come back, we're ready for them this time. I promise you they will never touch you again!"

"I don't give a damn, Charles, I just want to kill one if I can," Colleen replied. "I was so happy at the convent," she continued in a softer tone. "But now look at me."

"I'm sorry—I didn't know—" Charles said, confused. He started to stand up, but Colleen held him back.

"Charles...?" She pulled him back onto the floor.

His legs were a bit wobbly by the time they'd straightened out their clothes and brushed the dust off. He picked up the glow ball and led the way back to the main chamber.

"Charles, why does God allows bad things to happen to the innocent?"

"You'll have to ask Zechariah, Colleen. He's the Bible man. Around here I'm not very well thought of on questions of religion. Zechariah's been telling me about this Book of Job in that Bible of his. It says God punished Job on a
bet
with the devil.

Can you imagine that? Nobody could, unless there's some meaning hidden in the story, so deep the average guy can't figure it out. But if that's the case, what good is a story like that? So God wipes the floor with this poor bastard, Job. When I ask Zechariah if he believes that, he says, ‘Oh, yes, it's the literal word of God!’ But I know he doesn't, not literally. Nah, I don't think God has anything to do with what happens to us. I think life is like a card game, the only luck is on the deal. It's up to you how you play out your hand, and if God's got this plan Zechariah keeps talking about, that's it. But don't take that as criticism of Zechariah or any of the other people here. They sincerely believe what they say they believe, and nobody's tried to force me to think the way they do."

"But in the end God rewards Job for his faithfulness, Charles. The story actually has a happy ending."

"I know. But Colleen, if God were a human employer, nobody could work for him under those circumstances." They paused in the entrance and looked out at the bright sunlight. "I wonder why it is you and Chet have been able to remember so much while I can't?" Charles said.

"You said you resisted them, Charles. I think that's why. They had to use more power on you to subdue your will. Your memory will come back, don't worry."

"Maybe I'll turn out to have been an ax murderer." Charles grinned.

"Well, as a former acolyte in the Order of St. Sulpicia of the Fathers of Padua, may I say, Charles, God can forgive any sin, if repentance is sincere? But even if you don't repent and God doesn't forgive you, I still like you, and I just won't give a damn."

Charles laughed outright. "By the crabs on Moses's hairy balls, woman, spoken like a true soldier!"

While the others lay under the trees, taking a postprandial snooze, Spencer Maynard persuaded Comfort to accompany him a bit farther down the arroyo to a secluded spot not far from the stream that flowed by its mouth. "Careful, it's a bit muddy here," he warned. They sat on a log and stretched out their legs.

"Hot," Spencer remarked. He wanted to put his arm around Comfort's shoulders; instead he put his hands demurely between his knees as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. "Well..." he began, but left the thought unfinished. He was elated but very nervous to be alone with Comfort Brattle, whom he'd loved since she was a nubile fifteen-year-old. He picked up a rock and tossed it into a muddy pool. It splashed with a dull
thuck!
A slight quiver ran through the mud. "Submerged log,"

Spencer muttered.

Comfort picked up a rock, somewhat larger than the one Spencer had just thrown, and tossed it into the same spot. The splash was bigger and the quiver more pronounced.

"Comfort, don't think I'm being forward or anything, but have you thought much about your future? I mean, once the danger we're in has passed, you know?"

"I want an older man," she answered hastily, aware of the direction Spencer wanted the conversation to take.

"I
am
older, Comfort! I'm twenty-five!"

"I mean older and more experienced, Spencer."

"Aw
hell
! You mean a man like Charles, don't you? He's got
everything
. But he's twice your age, Comfort. And once he remembers who he is and we get through this emergency, he'll be going back to wherever he came from. Hell's bells, for all you know, he might even be married and with a bunch of kids to support!"

"Spencer, vulgarities do not become you," Comfort sniffed. Secretly, she was delighted that at least one of Charles's habits was influencing the men of New Salem; she found his earthy language exciting. She picked up a stick lying nearby and poked at the log in the mud. "Big
damned
log," she muttered, and they both laughed.

Charles was rubbing off on everyone, it seemed.

"So
there
you two are!" Hannah Flood exclaimed, emerging from the bulrushes.

The pair scrambled to their feet in surprise and embarrassment. "Oh, hi," Spencer mumbled. He shifted uneasily from foot to foot as Comfort dropped her stick. She looked guiltily at the ground. It was an unwritten but rigidly enforced rule among the City of God that unmarried couples were never to be left unchaperoned.

"We, uh, we're just talking, Mrs. Flood," Spencer said.

Hannah looked at the two closely. Their clothes were in order and they had not even been holding hands when she came upon them. "Well," she said, "Mr. Charles is back, so our break's over. Let's get back under the trees. More snapping-in exercises this afternoon." She glared after them as they trudged by her. Shaking her head, she turned and followed the pair back under the trees.

The log submerged in the mud moved slightly and sighed.

CHAPTER 14

"My leader," Herten Gorman began, "reports from the field indicate that some soldiers are refusing to take the new Oath of Loyalty."

De Tomas stiffened and his face took on a hard but eager expression, as it used to when, as Dean of the Collegium, he'd consign someone to the flames. "Religious or political scruples?"

"Religious, my leader. The army divides along sectarian lines."

"There will be no exceptions! Have the refusers shot. Shoot the entire army if you have to. We'll recruit new soldiers."

Gorman grinned.
That
was the old Dominic de Tomas!

This was to be the most elaborate awards ceremony ever staged on Kingdom, the first of many planned.

The Special Group honor guard, dressed in stunning black and silver uniforms, marched smartly into the Great Hall of Wayvelsberg Castle to the stirring notes of

"Raise the Flag." The music and lyrics, adapted from an old hymn, were now the signature of the Socialist Party of Kingdom, and by default, Kingdom's anthem.

Everyone stood as the black and silver flag of the SPK passed down the hall.

The honor guards' boot heels clacked in sharp cadence on the flagstones as the men marched to the center of the Great Hall and came to a halt facing Heinrich the Fowler's statue, just below a dais that had been erected in front of the sculpture. De Tomas, Herten Gorman, General Lambsblood, and the ministers of de Tomas's cabinet stood at rigid attention on the dais. When the last notes of "Raise the Flag"

had faded away into the vast shadowed recesses of the Great Hall, the assembled honorees, their families and guests, lesser government officials, the media, and carefully selected members of the public resumed their seats.

The susurration arising from hundreds of people shifting in their seats in anticipation, clearing their throats, and rustling programs filled the hall. Herten Gorman stepped to the microphones. "Comrades! Countrymen! We are one people united under one government guided by one leader. I give you our leader!" His voice resounded throughout the hall, and immediately the vast crowd went completely silent.

Dominic de Tomas—no longer Dominic de Tomas but
the Leader
!—stepped to the podium, exercising the now familiar but highly effective mannerisms of the accomplished speaker. He stood silently, arms braced on the podium as if gathering his thoughts. He stepped back, as if to begin his speech, hesitated, bowed his head, folded his arms, rocked back and forth on his feet, and then, arms raised as if to embrace the throng, began:

"Citizens of Kingdom!" He paused for several long seconds, taking in the assemblage before him. "Welcome! Your presence here this morning does great honor to your countrymen who will soon be recognized for their service to our community. In every great age of human history, ordinary people have come forward to do extraordinary deeds in service to their fellows. The men and women who will soon stand beside me on this platform are no exception. And you here today and those watching and listening outside this Great Hall are living representatives of our people, embodying the transcendent ideals of honor, loyalty, and sacrifice, the foundation stones of our new and regenerated society."

De Tomas's voice rang throughout the hall and across the continent like a clarion call. For years the people of Kingdom had lived under the divisive and tenuous control of the religious sects, never knowing from one minute to the next when dreadful conflict might break out, their individuality stifled by the oppressive rules and traditions of sectarian bigots. So debilitated had their society become that off-worlders had to be asked to come to their aid during the demon invasion. That invasion had destroyed their cities, towns, farms, and businesses, visited death and grievous wounds upon their families and friends, and left their lives in ruin. Now someone was promising them a chance to start over again, and something better.

A man near the front row—not a plant either—leaped to his feet and bellowed,

"Hail the Leader!" and as if that were the signal, all the people rose simultaneously, roaring out "Hail! Hail! Hail the Leader!" over and over until the Great Hall rang with voices raised in ecstasy. They had been swept up in that rapturous state of being outside oneself, overcome by a sense of being lifted up by a larger force.

De Tomas and his cabinet stood basking in the enthusiasm of the roaring crowd.

Eventually de Tomas raised his arms and the shouting subsided, but no sooner had it died down enough that he was able to speak, than someone took up the cry again and the hall shook with their shouted adulation. This went on for many minutes before de Tomas succeeded at last in getting them to take their seats.

Jayben Spears, as a special guest of the Leader, sat near the front of the audience with his secretary, Felicia Coombs-d'Merten. "I thought I knew that man," he whispered into Felicia's ear, "but this"—he gestured at the dais—"even I almost started shouting." Spears was fascinated by the performance, because in private de Tomas's manner of speech was quiet and reserved.

"I don't think this demonstration was planned, sir," Felicia whispered.

"That's what scares me," Spears answered. The pair had stood with the rest of the cheering crowd, albeit reluctantly, but those sitting nearby had noted angrily the ambassador's sour expression and his evident hesitation to rise and participate in the spontaneous adulation.

"Shhh!" a nattily attired man sitting on Spears's immediate left whispered harshly.

Spears leaned toward the man and said in his normal voice, through a cupped hand, "
Fuck
you!"

Shortly after seizing power, de Tomas had created a "pyramid of honor," a series of awards to recognize valor and meritorious service by government, military personnel, and citizens who had performed outstanding acts of bravery or service to the community. Outwardly, the ceremony was no different than one any other government might host to honor its outstanding people, but de Tomas had two objectives he wanted the events to accomplish. First, he needed a "pantheon" of heroes to call his own. Once recognized formally and publicly for their deeds and accomplishments, those people would be bound to him. They would become icons of the conduct and self-sacrifice he expected of everyone under his new government, role models for the rest of the citizens. Second, involving as many people as possible publicly in the affairs of the SPK bound them to the political and moral tenets of the party and opened the door for the party to further intrude itself into their lives, and thereby control them under the umbrella of shared community service.

De Tomas signaled to his adjutant, who came forward to make the official presentations.

The highest decoration in the SPK's pyramid of honor was the valor award called the "Knight's Cross with Diamonds." It was a beautiful decoration, crafted by one of the most skilled jewelers in the city of Haven. It consisted of a solid gold cross pattee in a silver frame, surmounted by a cluster of oak leaves under crossed swords studded with real diamonds. It was designed to be worn suspended around the wearer's neck by a black and silver ribbon. Lesser orders of the same award existed in silver and bronze but without the diamonds.

The adjutant opened the award binder. It was encased in genuine leather and printed on a vellum sheet embossed with a full-color representation of the Knight's Cross.

"Private Kater Rumia, First Company, Second Regiment, Third Brigade of the First Division, Army Group A, come forward!" A young man in the dress uniform of the Army of the Lord sitting in the front row came to attention and marched briskly up onto the platform. Sitting next to him were his parents, his company officers, and several of his close comrades, all of whom beamed with pride as they watched him receive his award. The cameras did not fail to catch the tears in his mother's eyes, whether from pride in her son's achievement or relief that he had survived to receive the award, but in any case it was just what the Minister of Propaganda and Popular Culture had hoped for when he set up the elaborate spectacle.

De Tomas and General Lambsblood stepped forward and stood beside Private Rumia. "In the name of the people of Kingdom, I bestow upon Private Kater Rumia, in recognition of bravery above and beyond the call of duty, the Knight's Cross in Gold with Diamonds, given this sixth day of the third month in the city of Haven, signed Dominic de Tomas, the Leader and Supreme Commander of the Kingdom Armed Forces." The adjutant then read the accompanying citation. Private Rumia had indeed performed a deed of considerable valor in a counterattack against the demons. But left unmentioned was the sacrifice of the Marine corporal who'd actually led the counterattack. He had been awarded the Bronze Star medal—posthumously.