Flame (12 page)

“Also joining us are some young people who have made the difficult journey from the Empyrean to join our crew. Could you all please stand when I mention your names, children?” Anne Mather called out name after name of young children who had survived the Empyrean explosion, and each of them stood, looking around uncertainly. Kieran wished he could gather them up, protect them somehow.

“… And Kieran Alden!” Mather called, her hands held over her head. Kieran stood up, head down while Mather heaped on the praise. “This remarkable young man, leading a crew of children, managed to maintain the Empyrean and keep her on course, all the while cultivating crops and livestock with a level of professionalism that is truly incredible. Kieran, please accept our warmest welcome!”

Hating himself, Kieran turned to wave at the congregation. The crowd was on its feet instantly, and those nearest to him patted his back, jostling him, saying, “Good job!… Amazing!… Welcome aboard!” Kieran nodded and was made even more uncomfortable when he saw the familiar faces of Empyrean children in the mix, some of them clapping, some of them staring at him in confusion.

“Kieran, come up here,” Mather said to him. “People want to get a look at you.” She waved him up the stairs to join her behind the podium. Once he stood by her, he saw the large guard who had searched him standing off to the side, his hands wrapped around the body of a rifle, watching the edges of the cornfield with grim focus. What was he afraid of?

“Why don’t you say a quick hello?” Mather said, offering Kieran the microphone. Kieran tried to wave it away, but the crowd had quieted and waited for him to speak.

“Thank you,” Kieran said into the microphone. Mather raised her eyebrows, nodding him on. Clearly she had sensed the enthusiasm of her congregation and wanted Kieran to take advantage of it.

“Uh…” He looked at the Empyrean kids, who were poised watching him, waiting for a sliver of hope. “I can see that my crew and I have found a safe port.” His voice was shaky, but no one seemed to notice. Several people in the front row smiled at him. “We’ve lost everything,” he went on. He spotted the blond Peters brothers sitting with an austere-looking couple. The boys looked at him as though hoping for some secret message. He felt Mather shift uncomfortably behind him. This was more than a quick hello, but she couldn’t stop him, not if she wanted to uphold the illusion of a united front. “To the families who have taken in our orphaned kids, I thank you kindly. And I ask that you do your best to treat these kids with compassion and understanding. The loss of our parents has been”—his voice broke—“devastating. If some of us are difficult, or angry, please respond with love and patience.” He looked at the austere couple with the Peters brothers. The woman’s face was hard, but the man was listening to him, so he spoke directly to him. “Be kind, even when some of us might be difficult to deal with. It’s the only way for us to live together on this ship as one crew.”

The man nodded, and Kieran saw several other people nodding in agreement throughout the audience. The Empyrean children still watched Kieran, waiting for a message just for them. He saw Mather’s hand reaching for the microphone and gave a quarter turn away from her.

Inspiration struck, and Kieran plunged forward without care for consequences. “And to you Empyrean kids, we’re setting up a way for you to see your friends and have some fun. Soon you’ll see a lot more of each other. How does that sound?”

A great cheer rang out, and dozens of little fists pumped the air. He turned to see Mather’s tight smile. “We might have discussed this,” she said.

“You said I could have influence,” he said as he handed her the microphone.

He expected her to be furious, but she looked out over her congregation and saw how happy the children were. “No, you’re right,” she told him. “They need this. We’ll set something up.”

Surprised, Kieran returned to his seat.

“Wonderful, honey,” his mother said, rubbing his back as though he’d had a starring role in the school musical, then turned to watch Anne Mather, who was standing behind the podium, smiling down at her people.

“Love your enemy,” Mather said into the microphone and waited for her congregation to think about the familiar words. “In all of Christian Scripture, it is perhaps the most difficult tenet to live up to.” Kieran squirmed in his seat, suddenly reminded of who these people were and what they’d done to his family. Why would she awaken such emotions
now
? Mather smiled that relentless smile of hers and asked, “How could Jesus expect us to love those who cause us harm?”

The room was deathly silent.

“You see,” she said with tilt of the head, “Jesus wanted more than to create a religion that embraced God’s loving nature.” She shifted her stance, carefully placed her hands on either side of her podium, and looked out over her people—because that’s who they were. Judging from the way they gazed at her, expectant, hungry for her guidance, eager to hear her next thought—they were
hers,
body
,
mind, and soul. “Think about it. If we all loved our enemy, wouldn’t we live in a beautiful world?”

She let these words hang in the air, drifting like soft snow.

Her tone changed to one of warning: “But you and I know that even if we desire peace, war can still be visited upon us. Indeed, the war for the future has already begun.” The room had been silent before, but now Kieran thought everyone must be holding their breath. “There are those on this ship who hate our way of life. They destroyed the Empyrean, and now they’re coming after us.”

Mather lifted her chin and intoned, “
Blessed be the LORD, my rock, who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle.
Many of God’s chosen people were called to defend their faith, and we may be no different. The wolves are circling, my friends, and they call themselves the church elders. Look around you! Do you see any of them here?”

The tension in the room climbed, and Kieran heard murmurs moving through the crowd as people looked around.

“They’re coming. They’re coming to depose me, strip this room of its vestments, and plow over our church! I ask you, brothers and sisters, will you stand with me if we are attacked?”

Kieran heard the creaking of chairs and saw that already people were standing up, looking determined.

“Will you put down your spade and pick up the sword, if the forces of darkness threaten to swallow us?”

Several more people stood. Kieran’s stomach dropped and his pulse quickened. What
was
this?

“We shall not be silenced!” Mather’s voice sailed over the heads of her congregation, electrifying the air. Her crew answered with raised fists. “We will defend our faith, and we will be victorious, for we stand on the side of the LORD! And the generations hereafter will remember us as the great generation, the stalwart founders of our home on New Earth, forever and ever!”

“Amen!” the congregation answered and erupted into a cacophony of cheers, pounding feet, and clapping hands. Kieran had to fight his instinct to hide his head. Most people fixated on Mather, but one woman to his right looked at him through narrowed eyes.

Through it all, Mather held her hands over her head, drinking in their adulation, a light in her eyes that he recognized.
I’ve felt that elation,
he thought to himself, sickened.
After a sermon that went well, I felt like she does now. Like a god.

He never wanted to feel that way again.

After services, Kieran stood next to his mother, staring at the floor, going over Mather’s sermon in his mind, marveling over the contradictions that no one else seemed to notice. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Felicity Wiggam smiling at him. She wore a dark kerchief over her bright yellow hair—that must be how he’d missed her in the crowd. Her skin was creamy, and fiery color touched her cheeks, highlighting her pale eyes.

“How are you?” Felicity asked him.

He nodded. “All right, I guess. You?”

“I’m doing well,” she said, looking around furtively. “What did you think of the sermon?”

“She’s a skilled speaker,” Kieran said honestly.

“Yes,” Felicity said carefully, then leaned in to whisper, “But I’m tired of war.”

“Me too,” Kieran said. Admitting this brought a wave of drowsiness over him. If only he could hide away under the covers of his warm bed. “I’m still trying to understand how she can say love your enemy one second and raise the battle cry the next.”

Felicity only looked at him with her fringed blue eyes. She was afraid, he could see. He had the sudden, irresistible desire to know her, to learn every part of her past and her hopes, to see the world as she saw it. His gaze dropped to her long, tapered fingers, and he noticed a ring on her left hand where a wedding ring should go.

“Are you…?” he began, taken aback.

“Married?” She laughed and lifted the ring for him to look at. The setting contained a blue stone that flashed under the lights. “I’m engaged.”

He tried hard to hide his shock. “To who?”

She turned and pointed to a group of laughing men. A handsome, smallish man with thick hairy arms waved at her, and she smiled. “His name is Avery,” she said and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “He proposed a few days ago. He’s making the rounds, telling everyone.”

“But he’s so…” Kieran shook his head.

“Old?” She shrugged. “I’d like to have a family of my own. And there isn’t anyone our age available anyway.”

“What about me?” he blurted before he could think how it might sound.

She laughed nervously, shaking her head as though he’d made an inappropriate joke. “You’re with Waverly.”

Kieran stared at her with his mouth half open, unsure what to say.

Felicity read his expression. “Did you break up?”

He gave a small nod, embarrassed into silence.

“Honey!” The man Avery held out a hand to Felicity. She hesitated, looking at Kieran, obviously reading everything he was feeling as he wilted under her gaze. She saw his embarrassment and, kindly pretending not to notice, turned and went to her intended, letting the man wrap his arms around her and press his nose into her cloud of pale hair. She looked over her shoulder at Kieran and held up a hand to wave good-bye.

He nodded.

They looked away from each other, and the moment passed.

NEXT

Seth sat on his bed wearing short black pants and a loose-fitting tunic, clothes he’d borrowed from Anthony. On his feet were espadrilles woven of goatskin that creaked every time he flexed his toes. Tonight his fate would be decided. He’d spent two weeks in Maya’s care and now was strong enough to be moved. That morning Maya had told him to expect a “family discussion” about where he should go from here. His stomach had a fluttery feeling, and he forced himself to take deep breaths to slow his skittish heart. He thought he could probably trust Maya, but he knew Anthony would do anything to protect her, including turning Seth in.

Soon Maya appeared in the doorway to his bedroom. “Ready?” she said.

He got up, feeling shaky on his feet, and went into the living room. He was surprised to see several strangers seated on soft-looking chairs draped with colorful African prints.

“This is Seth,” Maya said to the room at large, patting his shoulder.

Anthony stood from a rumpled blue chair and, without ceremony, started unwrapping the gauze on Seth’s hand. “I’m just going to take a peek. How’s it feel?”

“Sore,” Seth said with an uncertain glance around. He didn’t like being examined in front of strangers, but the rest of them were involved in quiet conversations and weren’t even looking.

“Bones feel okay,” Anthony said, turning his hand over. “But that wound looks red.” He touched Seth’s fingers gently. “I think I’ll start you on a stronger course of antibiotics.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Nah,” the doctor said. “I’ll get you the strong stuff.” Anthony rewrapped Seth’s hand with fresh tape and gauze. It felt sturdy and comforting.

Seth sat in a stiff wooden chair and looked at the faces of Maya’s “family.” It took him a moment to recognize the guard with the barrel chest who had helped him out of the tropics bay that first day. He took up an entire chair with his stocky frame, his light brown eyes trained on Seth, and he held up a hand in greeting. “I’m Don.”

“Thanks for, uh…”

Don waved away his words. “Don’t even.”

“This is Selma Walton,” Maya said, holding a hand out to a plump old woman, maybe the oldest person Seth had ever seen, with a sagging neck and thick forearms that were covered with glittering gold bracelets.

“Seth.” Selma smiled, lighting up. “Welcome.”

“And this is Amanda.” Maya pointed out a very tall woman sitting folded in a chair in the corner. She was wrapped in a brightly colored shawl, and she smiled warmly.

“Maya tells me you know Waverly,” Amanda said to him. “I helped her escape, along with another woman named Jessica Eaton.”

“Is Jessica still…?” Maya began, looking at Don.

“Still in the brig,” Don said quietly.

Seth expected this to be a disappointing answer, but everyone in the room looked relieved, and he realized they’d feared she might be dead. This, more than anything they’d said, told him how great a risk they were taking in helping him.

“Have you heard from Chris?” Anthony asked Don.

“Not yet,” Don said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Who is Chris?” Seth asked.

“He’s Don’s brother,” the tall woman answered. “No one has seen him for over two weeks.”

“I have an idea of where he might be,” Don started, and everyone looked at him, but he seemed unwilling to say more.

Maya picked up a large earthenware teapot. “Darjeeling, anyone?”

Without waiting for a response, she poured tea for each person, handing small egg-shaped cups to her guests. Amanda sipped distractedly while Selma took in the aroma, her hands folded over the warm cup. “A real treat, Maya.”

“Maya always gets the best stuff,” Don said to Seth, feigning resentment.

“She wheedles,” said Anthony, sending a loving jab at her. “And people give her things.”