“I’m afraid I can’t show you where my land is, Abbot. To be honest, this is the first complete map of Anyar I’ve ever seen.” Which was true, though, of course, it was the only map of the planet he’d ever seen—he didn’t count the images of Anyar Harlie had shown him.
“I don’t know why, but for some reason my people don’t interact much with the other lands. All I can say is that the voyage here was long. I wasn’t always fully conscious, so even that might be faulty memory. The climate also seemed similar to Caedellium, yet that could include much of the world.”
“Do you remember how you got here? On what ship and of what people?”
“No. I never saw those who took me from my homeland.” True. “They fed me, but I never left a small compartment or saw anyone.” True. “I don’t understand why they took me or how I got from their ship to the beach near Abersford and the abbey.” True . . . or close enough.
The abbot shook his head. “Too bad. We would all like to know more about you, how this happened to you. What about your family? What is their place among your people?”
Yozef paused. Was the abbot trying to pigeonhole him into a societal class? If he said the wrong thing, would it change how they treated him? Maybe they’d been so supportive of him out of being uncertain whether he belonged to a powerful family or clan. Yozef decided to take a chance and continue saying things were different where he came from . . . yet not too different.
“My father’s a scholastic, one who studies the heavens and the stars.”
“Ah, an astrologer. One who predicts the future.”
“Not exactly. He studies the heavens, only by observing the moons, the planets, and the stars. It’s called astronomy, and my father is an astronomer. In my land, we don’t depend on predictions based on the heavens. Although they can sometimes come true, we believe such auguries are often too vague to serve as guidelines for our daily lives.” That was as close as Yozef thought he could come without debunking astrology.
Sistian nodded. “Something I agree with, although a few of my more conservative colleagues are not so sure. Astrology was important to our people in the past, though not so much anymore, except for perhaps the common, less educated people. It’s a belief not given credence by most of my brothers and sisters, so I find it interesting your people have come to the same conclusion.”
Yozef saw an opening to both establish a rapport with the more educated locals and cover himself for the future. “Yes, it makes one consider that no matter where we are in the world, our peoples are coming to common understandings of God’s realm.”
Sistian frowned a little. “Well, now we’re getting into theological areas we can discuss later.”
Whoops, thought Yozef. Maybe I reached a little too far on that one. Be careful.
“And the rest of your family? Are they all scholastics?”
“Not all. Many found different goals to their lives. Some soldiers (at least in Grandfather’s generation), some theophists (I think Aunt Marcie’s minister diploma from that mail-order outfit qualifies—at least as far as the Caedelli are concerned), some leaders of our peoples (Uncle Fred was mayor of Castleton for one term before they realized he was spending more time bonking constituent wives than running the town—and Mom and Dad had stints as chairs of PTA chapters), and merchants and skilled tradesmen (well, a butcher at Safeway and cousin Bill’s marijuana dispensary in San Francisco have to count). My people believe that God’s plan for us is to do what each is best at and not be tied to a particular position or trade.”
Sistian frowned, more puzzled than disapproving, “Then how does your family know its proper place? It sounds chaotic. Does the family have no role?”
Yozef formulated his next words carefully. From what he’d gathered so far in speaking with Carnigan and other staff, the family, the village, and the clan took care of its members and normally provided a role for them. This naturally meant limiting options. If you were the son of a blacksmith, chances were you’d also be a blacksmith, since by the age of twelve a boy would be helping his father. If a daughter, you’d learn the skills of being a mother and caring for a family and in some circumstances work in a family trade. Stepping out of those boundaries would be difficult. If your family members were tradesmen and you decided to be a farmer, you’d have to save enough money to buy your own farm. Your family would help if they were affluent enough, or you’d marry the daughter of a sonless farmer. And forget about moving to a different village or town. It was always a balance between limiting options and providing for livelihood.
Yozef thought there were advantages to knowing your place. He wondered whether the United States was overall better. Yes, the options there were infinitely greater, but the downside was less family and community support. But how to answer the abbot?
“My people put great value on each person being responsible for his or her own success in life. While sometimes this means people don’t have as much help from family and clan as you have here, they have more options for what to do with their lives. Now that I’ve seen the people of Caedellium, I’m not wise enough to say which is better, your system here or ours at my home.”
“Interesting. I’d like to speak with you more about this. As for your feeling your own lack of wisdom, the Word tells us that a path to wisdom is knowing you don’t have it.”
Yozef frowned. “The Word?”
“The Word of God,” Sistian stated. “Our main religious writing. It’s usually shortened to the Word in everyday speech.”
Yozef nodded. “My people say a wise man knows he doesn’t know, while a fool knows what isn’t true.”
Okay, maybe he couldn’t exactly the quote, but who here would know?
Sistian smiled and nodded appreciatively. “Very true and interestingly stated. I may even use those words someday in a Godsday message.
“And yourself, Yozef? You mentioned you were a student. Forgive me, but for us, someone of your age who was still a student would be unusual or the student not particularly bright. Certainly, the latter doesn’t apply to you. By your age, they would have finished their schooling and have a position based on their learnings.”
He’d been waiting for the question. It was his chance for an opening to explain why he seemed to have so much exotic knowledge. No matter how careful he tried to be, it was only a matter of time before he began dropping pieces of that knowledge. He had to find a way around this, or it could have catastrophic consequences for him.
“Our land is blessed by God to be extraordinarily bountiful. We’ve more than enough food for all, and we send much of our bounty to a trading center where it is exchanged with other lands for their goods. Also, our hills and mountains are rich in gold and silver. All of this allows our people to spend more time considering the wonder of God’s world in all its aspects. Many of the fields of study would probably seem trivial and pointless in Caedellium. Your land is productive, at least the parts I’ve seen, but still requires much effort and sweat to yield. Imagine if suddenly your people only had to work half as much time as they do now. What would they do with the rest of the time?”
Sistian considered this novel idea for a few moments. “I think it’d depend on each person. Many would simply take the time to do nothing. Sit and talk, engage in games, perhaps consume more alcohol, if they had both the extra time and money you suggest. For myself, there are always people I wish I had more time to counsel, and I’d spend more time studying and considering the Word.”