The god, still staring at Tephe, winked at him.
Here is the name of the god, which you must know, if only to bring down Our Lord upon it,said Captain Thew Stur, placing his hand to a single sheet of vellum which lay on his desk. On the sheet was a long word, scrawled in an oxidized ochre hue that Tephe knew was the god’s own blood. Tephe was taking command of the Righteousfrom Stur, whose weary displeasure of the fact had been well communicated to Tephe by others. Nevertheless Stur’s allegiance to his ship was such that he treated Tephe with the courtesy owed a captain. Tephe wondered when his time came if he could muster the same.
And this,Stur lifted his hand and placed it this time on a thick parchment envelope with an unbroken seal, this contains the particulars of the god. Who it was before Our Lord defeated it, how Our Lord defeated it, and how theRighteous was built around it. You knew we build our ships around the captured gods?
I have been to the yards,Tephe said.
Of course you have,Stur said. We build the ships to enclose their aura and in doing so the ship becomes part of them. Or so I have heard it said. It was not my task to know.
Tephe nodded slightly at the envelope. You resealed the envelope,he said.
I never opened it,Stur said. Nor did Captain Pher, my predecessor. Nor have any of my predecessors so far as I know.
I don’t understand,Tephe said.
Neither did I when I took command,Stur said. I believed as you do now that a captain knows everything about his ship, every beam and rivet and crew member. But you have to understand, captain, that this god will know what you know about it.
It reads minds,Tephe said.
It readsyou, Stur said. It is a god. It apprehends things about us we are not aware of ourselves. The god—this god—will take what you know about it and use it against you. Use it to plant doubt in your mind. To drive a wedge between you and your faith.
My faith is strong,Tephe said.
It would have to be to be given this ship,Stur said. But you have not been captain of a ship before. You have not had the responsibility for every life on it be yours. You have not had the weight of being Our Lord’s strong and flawless arm set on you. You will have doubts, captain. And this god in particular will see that doubt, because it is old and it is malicious. And it will work it against you. And it will use what you know about it to do it.
I understand your concern,Tephe said.
But you choose not to believe me,Stur said, and held up his hand. You are the captain of theRighteous , or will be soon enough. You will—and should—do as you will. But I ask you to consider a request from your predecessor, as a courtesy. Stur placed his hand back on the envelope. Before you open this, go to speak to the god.
About what?Asked Tephe.
About anything,said Stur. It hardly matters. The point is not the conversation. The point is to observe it, and to see how it observes you. Talk to the god as long as you can bear to. If when you are done you do not believe that the god represents a danger to you, your faith, or theRighteous , then open this envelope and read what it contains. But as a favor to me, speak to the god first.
I will,said Tephe, and then the two of them moved on to matters of personnel.
Two days after Tephe’s formal installation as captain of the Righteous, and after he had walked every inch of the ship and spoke to every member of his crew, the new captain stood at the edge of the iron circle that held the god and spoke to it for the length of an entire watch. No one was present other than the captain and the god.
When the captain had finished, he returned to his quarters, took the parchment envelope that he had kept out on what was now his desk, and buried it as far back in the captain’s personal safe as it would go, unopened.
Tephe had not thought about it again until now.
The priest and the acolytes chanting became subtly louder, and the god closed its eyes and its face took on a look whose meaning the captain could not fathom. There was the moment of vertigo, and then the slippery flash of some indefinable emotion outside of the human experience, gone before it could be confirmed that it had been there at all. And then it was over.
“It is done,” said Priest Andso, and for the first time looked up toward the captain. Tephe glanced at his robes and noticed something new resting on top of them; the Talent which Tephe had taken from the woman during the parade. The captain’s eyes shot back up toward the priest’s own.
The priest fingered the Talent. “An experiment, captain,” he said. “To see how the Defiled would respond—”
Tephe did not wait for the rest. As he turned, he saw the god’s gaze back on him, and its grin, silent, mocking, malevolent. The god’s name rose up again in his memory, oxidized ochre on vellum, and Tephe left the chamber before it could resolve itself any further.
Chapter Eight
Lieutenant Ysta frowned as the headman spoke, using his Talent as Gavril to decipher the burbles and clicks that came out of this other man’s mouth and render them into intelligible speech. Behind Ysta and the headman stood the leaders of the planet’s largest settlement, Cthicx, a village of perhaps ten thousand souls. Behind them, on a field the village used for games and ceremonies, stood the entire population of Cthicx, there for the ceremony to come. In front of Ysta and the headman stood Tephe, the priest Andso, and Kon Eric, commander of the Bishop’s Men.
“This is taking too long,” said Eric, to Tephe.
“Quiet,” Tephe said, and turned his attention back to Ysta and the headman. He would not know what the headman said until Ysta spoke, but courtesy demanded the appearance of attention. Tephe wanted to pay attention to the headman’s expressions and movements in any event. So much of communication was not what was said but how it was said. Eric, who was something of a blunt instrument, did not appear to understand or appreciate this.
At the Tephe’s admonition, the commander fell silent and glowered. He and the rest of his men had assumed that they would be called upon to subdue the Cthicxians in battle, quickly and violently; Tephe had had a different plan.
Ysta nodded to the headman, clicked something at him and turned to Tephe. “Headman Tscha says that they will willingly follow Our Lord,” he said.
Tephe smiled and nodded to the headman, who nodded back. “That is good news indeed,” Tephe said.
Ysta smiled thinly. “He does have conditions, sir,” he said.
Priest Andso straightened in his finery, giving himself something to do. “This is not a bargain Our Lord is entering into, Lieutenant,” the priest said. “This little man is not in a position to impose conditions of any sort. He has seen what just four of the Bishop’s Men can do.”