She laughed playfully. “Father Bronz don’t work for nobody,” she said scornfully. “He’s a God-man.”
That threw me temporarily until I realized that she wasn’t referring to his power but to his job. Obviously, she meant he was a cleric of some sort, although I’d seen no sign of any real religion on Lilith. I knew clerics, of course; for some reason those cults and old superstitions still held a lot of people even on the civilized worlds. The more you tried to stamp ’em out, the more strength they seemed to gain.
I stared again at the strange old man. Odd place for a cleric, I thought. He must have some really weird religious beliefs if he’s here on Lilith. Why condemn yourself here when you could be living the good life in some temple paid for by the ignorant? And, I wondered, how could a man of God, whichever one or ones it was, have risen to Master without blood on his hands?
I kept noticing the men and women going up to him, talking to him, in singles and small groups. “Why are they talking to him?” I asked her. “Are they afraid not to?” It seemed to me that if you were stumping for converts and had the power of a Master you could at least compel them to listen to your sermons—but he wasn’t sermonizing. Just talking nicely.
“They tell him their troubles,” Ti said, “and sometimes he can help them. He’s the only one of them with the power who likes pawns.”
I frowned. A confessor—or did he actually offer intercession? I considered it, but couldn’t really figure out his function. More stuff to learn, I told myself. Though there was really only one way to do so, I hated even the thought of going up to someone with ten times or more Kronlon’s powers.
I guess he noticed me standing there staring, for when the group thinned out, he glanced over in my direction and then gestured and called to me. “You there! You’re a big, hairy fellow, aren’t you? Come on over!” he called pleasantly, his voice rich and mellow. That was a charmer’s voice, a con man’s voice —the kind that could make a crowd do almost anything he wanted.
I had no choice but to approach him, although my nervousness must have showed.
“Don’t worry,” he assured me. “I don’t bite, nor do I inflict pain on pawns or eat little babies for breakfast.” He looked me over in the torchlight, and his eyes widened slightly. “Why, you must be Cal Tremon!”
I betrayed no outward emotion, but inwardly I tensed. I had a bad feeling about that recognition.
“I’ve heard much about you from, ah, other colleagues of yours who wound up here,” he continued. “I was wondering what you looked like.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all. It implied that a fair number of people around might know more about Cal Tremon’s life and exploits than I did.
“Have a seat,” he gestured at a small tuft of grass, “and for heaven’s sake, relax! I am a man of God—you have nothing to fear from me.”
I sat, thinking just how wrong he was. It wasn’t his power I feared, but his knowledge that could expose me. Despite my misgivings, I loosened up a little and decided to talk to him. “I’m Tremon,” I admitted. “What sort of stuff have you heard about me? And from whom?”
He smiled. “Well, all of the newer folk were to one degree or another in your former line of work. Reputations carry, you know, among people of like trades. You’re a legend, Cal—I hope I may call you Cal. That Coristan raid alone guaranteed that. Single-handedly blowing the domes of the entire mining colony and making off with forty millions in jondite!” He shook his head in wonder. “With that kind of talent and those brains—not to mention money—I wonder they ever caught you.”
’They put a Security assassin on my trail,” I responded as glibly as I could, having never heard of Coristan and not having the slightest idea what jondite was or what it was used for. “They’re the best at what they do and they rarely fail. The only reason I wasn’t killed outright was that I’d had the foresight to stash the loot and have it wiped, so they needed me alive to get the key information and find it.” That much was the truth; the briefing had been better on the latter-day career and psycho-profile.
The cleric nodded sagely. “Yes, the agents are almost impossible to avoid—and even if you get one, the rest are on you. You know the reigning Lord of Lilith was an agent?”
I nodded. “So I heard. Excuse me for saying so, but it’s pretty odd to find a cleric out here, and particularly strange to find one who talks to thieves and murderers so matter-of-factly.’’
Father Bronz laughed. “No preaching, you mean? Well, I have my work and it’s a little different. I was a preacher once, and a good one—the victim of my own success, I fear. Started with a tiny little church—perhaps twenty, thirty members—on a small frontier world, and it just grew until I was the dominant cleric of three worlds, two of them civilized!” His face turned a little vacant, his eyes slightly glassy. “Ah! The enormous sums pouring into the coffers, the cathedrals, the mass worship and blessing for a half million at a time! It was grand!” He sounded both nostalgic and wistful.
“What happened to bring you here, then?” I asked him.
He returned to the present and looked at me squarely. “I gained too much. Too many worshipers, too much money, which of course meant too much power. The church was uncomfortable; they passed me over for archbishop and kept sending in stupid little men to take charge. Then the congress and powers that be on a number of worlds we were just starting on got nervous, too, and started putting pressure on the church. They couldn’t do anything, though—I’d broken no laws. They couldn’t just demote me. I’d just pop up elsewhere, and my following and my order would have exerted their influence to return me. That would have been an unforgivable defeat, so they had the idea of posting me to missionary work in the Warden Diamond—the perfect exile, you might say. But I wouldn’t go. I threatened to take my order and my following out of the church and form our own denomination. It’s been done before when the church has become corrupt. Of course that’s where they got me. They played a few computer games, got some trumped-up charges about misappropriation of funds and using religion for political influence, and here I am—exiled to the post I wouldn’t go to voluntarily, transported like any common criminal.”
I had the idea that nothing about Father Bronz was common. “And yet you still serve the church as a missionary here?” I asked incredulously.
He smiled. “My bookkeeping may have been lousy, but my motives were sincere. I believe in the religious part of my church’s teachings, and I believe God uses me as His instrument in His work. The civilized church is as secular and corrupt as the governments—but not here. On Lilith it’s back to basics—no ranks, no churches, just pure faith. Here I am with a large heathen population and no superior save God Almighty.” He looked around at the pawns going about their evening routines and lowered his voice a bit.
“Look at them,” he almost whispered. “What kind of life is this you are all leading? There’s no hope here, no future, just a stagnant present. If you don’t have the power you’re a pawn in the literal sense of that term. But they’re human beings all the same. They need hope, a promise of something better, something beyond this life. They’ll not get it on Lilith, and they can’t leave the place, so Eternity is there only hope of salvation. As for some—the criminal element, let’s say—well, that’s where people like me are needed most. Besides,” he added, “they need me. Who else will hear their complaints, as pitifully small as they really are, and who else will speak for them with authority to there superiors? Just people like me. No more.”