The woman did as bidden. She was no one Justin recognized, but she was lovely, especially for an Arcadian. Her dark hair, though pulled back, was still clearly thick and luxurious, and neither it nor her skin showed any sign of Cain. She looked to be about eighteen and kept her eyes lowered, as was proper. The Grand Disciple grunted in approval.
“You may wait for me in the bedroom,” he said. The girl gave an obedient nod, and Justin watched as she slipped out of the room. Glancing back at the priest, he saw a lascivious expression cross the older man’s features. So much for him being above the distractions of women.
You’re not watching the right person, said Magnus.
For a moment, Justin was confused, then he focused on Hansen who, after watching the girl leave, glanced back at the priest—with undisguised contempt. The expression was fleeting, and when the priest turned back, Hansen’s face was smooth and subservient once more.
“Your piousness,” said Hansen carefully. “I’ve saved enough money to make Elaina a proper wife now. How much longer will we have to wait?”
The Grand Disciple gave him a patronizing smile. “Patience, Timothy. It’s not about money so much as Nehitimar’s will, and right now, the god wills that she remain a concubine.”
“But why?” blurted out Hansen. He immediately looked chagrined for daring to ask.
“Because if she is your wife, then she must keep her body only unto you. As long as she is a concubine, I am able to continue giving her my blessing. That pleases Nehitimar. Doesn’t it please you as well?”
“Giving her my blessing”? That’s what he has the audacity to call it? Justin wondered.
It may please their god, noted Magnus. But it doesn’t please Hansen.
The raven was right. Even as the young man murmured his agreement, Justin could see the angry glint in his eyes. The Grand Disciple was either too full of himself to notice or—mostly likely— didn’t care. No surprise coming from a man who lived in splendor and excess while much of the country remained impoverished.
“You know how difficult my work is,” continued the Grand Disciple. “Nehitimar requires many sacrifices of me, and I must take my pleasures where I can to continue his work—even if that requires sacrifices on the part of others. You understand.”
”Of course,” said Hansen.
Hansen would punch him right now if he could, Justin noted. “Don’t worry,” said the elder priest. “If all goes well with your mission into the Lost Lands, Nehitimar will undoubtedly reward you with marriage. And I of course will look after Elaina while you’re away.”
“Thank you, your piousness.”
The Grand Disciple strolled around the room, hands clasped behind his back. “Have you found an acceptable group to go on the expedition?”
“I’m finalizing it,” said Hansen, seeming more at ease discussing business than Elaina. “If the Gemmans will allow us to enter as you plan, I’ll make sure to have some of Nehitimar’s best spokespeople go, along with those you’ve trained to disable the Gemman media stream.”
It happened so quickly that Justin was almost certain he’d misheard. Wait, what did he say?
Shh, cautioned Magnus. The scenery around them flickered slightly in Justin’s vision, and he forced himself to focus back on the two men in the room.
“It’s just . . .” Hansen started to continue but stopped.
“Yes?” asked the Grand Disciple. Again, Justin’s vision flickered. “Even if the country is plunged into as much chaos as you say it will be, can a handful of our best missionaries truly effect change in that godless land?”
“It’s okay for you to have doubts, Timothy. You can’t even begin to imagine the extent upon which their society rests on their media. It’s not as simple as television here. Everything is wired into one system: entertainment, news, security, identity. Disable that, even for hours, and you’d throw off their world order. If we can keep it down for a few days as planned, it will be like bringing back the Dark Ages. Some will be scared. Some will listen to our people, and the seeds will be planted. In the meantime, the lapse will allow our military to strike and seize back some of our most prized borderlands—lands which may have women even more beautiful than Elaina.” The Grand Disciple gave him a knowing smile. “You might have a greater reward than her ahead of you.”
“I only want her,” insisted Hansen with a frown. “And I’m dedicated to this mission. You know that. It just seems like if so much is riding on this media stream, it won’t be easy to take down.”
“That’s why our people have been studying it for so long,” explained the other man. He wavered in Justin’s vision, and the disorienting sensation made it hard to follow the conversation. “Cowlitz and his men know what they’re doing. But they truly need to be within Gemman borders to make their plan work. The president and his advisors support us, if we can only find our opening.”
The priest started to say more, but Justin couldn’t follow it any longer. What’s happening? he asked Magnus.
You’ve been out of your body too long, and your control is slipping. The raven lifted up from the window’s edge and flew into the night. Whereas before Justin had felt like he was one with the bird, he now had the sensation of clinging on for dear life.
No! he insisted. Go back! We need to hear more. They’re talking about taking down the fucking media stream! Do you know how serious that is?
All I know is how serious getting you back to your body is,
countered Magnus. If you aren’t rejoined soon, bad things will happen.
How bad? asked Justin.
Magnus’s voice was grim. The kind of bad where your soul is permanently severed from your body and wanders the earth forever.
CHAPTER 16
Good Provincial Girls
Tessa got her hair cut just before Dr. Cassidy’s event, much to Daphne’s dismay.
“You’ve lost your rustic provincial feel,” Daphne exclaimed, as she adjusted the tiny microphone hidden in Tessa’s collar. “That’s half your appeal.”
“Thanks,” said Tessa dryly. Her hair was still long by Gemman standards, reaching her shoulder blades. She’d gotten it edged and layered in a more modern way that helped lighten some of the weight. In Panama, most girls her age wore their hair elaborately up or braided, so length and blunt edges were the goals there. “And I actually think it’s going to help me. Dr. Cassidy wants to show me off as some kind of poster child for Gemman assimilation. Looking the part—and not like I just came in from the provinces—will convince them how great the RUNA’s been for me.”
Daphne made a noncommittal grunt and stepped back to survey Tessa. “Maybe,” was all Daphne would acknowledge. “But you don’t want to come off as too worldly and sophisticated. If you get caught doing something you shouldn’t be, you’ll want to play up that provincial naiveté.”
“I’m not going to do anything except what I’m asked,” Tessa told her, for what felt like the hundredth time. “I’m not cracking safes or hacking encrypted files.”
And Daphne responded with the same refrain she’d been giving Tessa for the last couple of days. “You’re going to be in the man’s house! This is a golden opportunity, better than we could have hoped for. You’ve got to maximize that. You might end up being president of the YCC and never get a chance like this again.”
Tessa shook her head. “No. I’m not doing anything like that. I’ll try to stick around the donors as much as possible so you can get some good sound bites, but that’s it. Besides, if Dr. Cassidy really does have some involvement with a religion, and if he is consequently getting the rest of the Citizens Party involved, it’s not like there’s going to be one document I can seize that’s got it all laid out for you to exploit.”