“I’m sorry to receive you in such humble accommodations,” the Grand Disciple said.
Justin glanced at the lush surroundings in surprise. “Begging your pardon, but we must have different cultural interpretations of ‘humble.’ These apartments are lovely.”
“Indeed, but this is my home in the temple. I have a much more hospitable residence on Holy Lake that I prefer to receive guests in, when time and duty permits.”
“I’m more than honored to be received here,” Justin assured him. The Grand Disciple smiled, revealing a tightness in his skin that suggested Cain treatments, something the Arcadians claimed was a sign of vanity. He gestured Justin to sit down on one of the leather armchairs. The priest himself settled into the center of a loveseat, spreading out his robes so that they took over in a magnificent and sparkling display. A remote control rested on the loveseat’s arm, and he pushed a few buttons. The soft classical music vanished, and the entire panel of the giant window slid down, opening up the top section to the outdoors.
“We have air conditioning, of course, but I love fresh air, especially in the evening. All the technology in the world can’t make up for what our creator’s already given us sometimes.” The Grand Disciple smiled again and nodded to a decanter of wine on the low glass table between them. “Please, help yourself. It’s imported from Argentina. You’re probably pretty familiar with their wines after your stay in Panama.”
Justin returned the smile, albeit stiffly. So. He wasn’t the only one who’d done research. “I am indeed. Sometimes it was the only drinkable stuff I could get a hold of.”
The Grand Disciple poured himself a glass when Justin had filled his own. “I’d like to visit the provinces, but I don’t know if my vocation will ever allow it. There’s much to do here.”
“Running this temple alone must be like managing a city,” said Justin. “I can’t imagine how much work you have to do for the rest of the country.”
“Nehitimar has called me, so I must do the best I can. And he’s very generous in the many other servants he’s provided to assist me.”
Justin thought about all the temple staff and priests he’d witnessed walking in today. “Very generous,” he agreed.
“Does this bother you?” the Grand Disciple asked. “Talking so openly about a god? Talking about a god as though he’s real? I know you Gemmans don’t believe in such things.”
“Our country maintains an open policy toward religious belief.” The words were automatic. A servitor’s mantra.
“Some of your scattered citizens do, perhaps, but not people in your profession. And don’t get me wrong.” The Grand Disciple paused to sip his wine. “I respect what you do. We have our own branch of the priesthood dedicated to weeding out heretics in our midst. It’s important to keep the faith pure.”
“I don’t think I have very much in common with your Examiners.”
”Even so, you have a good eye for what’s important to your country, as do I.” The Grand Disciple set down his wine and leaned forward, ringed hands clasped together over his knees. “Do you know why I asked you here, Dr. March? Because believe me, Enoch didn’t initially approve of this meeting.”
The priest was on a first name basis with the president, naturally. “Would that have really stopped it?” Justin asked.
That brought another smile to the Grand Disciple’s face. “No, but this country runs much more smoothly when Enoch and I are in agreement—or at least when he thinks I’m in agreement with him. You see, no matter what suspicions you might have, Enoch actually would like to establish peaceful relations with your nation. There are things he thinks we need. More efficient fuels. Medical technology. He believes that commerce will be the key to ushering in peace between us, but he’s only half right. It’s not currency of the material world your nation needs, but rather, spiritual coin. And that’s why I brought you here today, to seek your help in a great endeavor that will unite our countries in a harmonious future.”
Justin had no idea what was coming, save that he probably wasn’t going to like it. “What endeavor is that?”
“Sending missionaries of Nehitimar into the RUNA.”
CHAPTER 12
Temptations
Mae didn’t need Justin’s deafening silence to know what an outlandish suggestion the Grand Disciple had just made. Her initial offense at being wrapped in these restrictive garments and discarded in the back of the room had long faded once the weird conversation was up and running. This was not her field of expertise, and she was glad to be ignored. Let Justin navigate these diplomatic waters.
Nonetheless, she dutifully made notes on the exchange that had just taken place, since her ostensible reason for being here was to be Justin’s secretary. Before leaving, Hansen had slipped her a small notebook and a pen, which would’ve almost been comical in any other situation. Everyone in the RUNA typed or used styluses with tablets that would transpose handwriting into neat text. In a situation like this, no one would’ve bothered with notes. A recorder would’ve been used. Apparently, this was another instance the Arcadians wanted to remain low tech, and she supposed she should be glad Hansen hadn’t given her a scroll and quill.
Justin didn’t stay down for long. Per his way, he quickly recovered from the shock of the topic. “You make a valid point that a cultural exchange may be just as valuable as a monetary one,” he said carefully. “But I’m not sure this is the best place to start. If you wanted to discuss art or literature, possibly some exchange of students—”
“For us, our religion is our primary means of cultural exchange,” the priest gently interrupted. “It permeates every part of our society. If we are to be understood, to truly connect with your people, it’s important to us that we share our faith. And you just told me yourself that the RUNA is open to different forms of religious worship.”
Mae could just barely see Justin’s profile and a bitter smile at having his words thrown back at him. “That’s true, but we allow those beliefs with certain conditions. One is that we maintain a distinct line between government and religion. And while crossing that line has worked well for your country, I’m afraid it’s just something ours isn’t ready for.”
Justin was being more than diplomatic, Mae thought. For starters, the RUNA was never going to be ready for that kind of theocracy. And to say that it had “worked well” for Arcadia was certainly an exaggeration. The atrocities she’d witnessed in Carl’s household were proof of that, let alone the countless reports Gemman intelligence had collected over barbaric justice committed in the name of Nehitimar’s religion. Even today’s drive into the city had highlighted Arcadia’s economic woes, with its wild disparities between rich and poor.
“We have no interest in your government,” said the Grand Disciple, voice filled with amusement. “We would rather talk to ordinary people, let our missionaries come and simply explain about Nehitimar to those who will listen.”
“Missionaries and public proselytizing are both illegal in the RUNA,” Justin told him, in an apologetic way that reminded Mae of when he would tell religious leaders their licenses were being revoked. He managed to sound as though he were legitimately sorry.
The Grand Disciple stayed firm. “I’m not suggesting they convert people on the streets, just that we find a way to let our people communicate with yours about what’s most important to us. Perhaps it could be in the context of a larger cultural exchange as you suggested, a series of university lectures about Arcadia, with our faith featured as part of it. We could simply send a group of diplomats and lecturers.” Something in the way he spoke made Mae think these all-purpose “lecturers” sharing Arcadian culture had been his original goal but that he’d opened with the far more dramatic suggestion of missionaries to soften the blow.