Chapter 13

They finished their meal without another word. Conner ate everything on his plate, too caught up in his victorious energy to notice if any of it tasted bad. After they all put their dishes away, the three priests led the crowd to the sanctuary building, explaining that they would normally go out hiking to a campfire site for evening worship, but the raptors had made that too dangerous.

The building had been filled with chairs, and all of the people took seats. Conner, Oliver, and Mara sat in the back corner. Conner had never been to a religious service before, and he felt nervous, as if the rest of the people might turn around in their seats halfway through it and glare at him and his friends like they were some kind of depraved creatures in disguise.

The congregation sang some songs. Conner and his friends didn’t join in, because it felt extremely weird. Then, Irom gave a talk about Drucan and strength of character. Then it was done, and everyone stood up and started talking to each other.

Conner was slightly surprised when a Tantalian girl came up to him and introduced herself. “Where are you from?” she asked.

“Uh, Moebius,” Conner replied.

“Oh interesting. Do you have any stories about what Drucan has done in your life?”

“Um,” Conner said, feeling very uncomfortable, “not really. I never heard of Drucan before today.”

“Oh,” the girl said, taken aback. “Well, then what brings you here? Pardon me asking.”

“It’s a long story,” Conner said.

“Well,” the girl said, “while you’re here, you can learn about the strength and light of Drucan.”

“I’m sure I can,” Conner said.

The girl walked away to talk to somebody else. Conner leaned against a wall, feeling tired. But it was only a few seconds before a boy turned to him and introduced himself. “Hi,” he said, giving his name. “I’m a physician at Jeparta Medical Clinic. Who are you?”

“I’m Conner,” Conner said. “I’m a tennis player from Moebius.”

“Oh that’s interesting,” the boy said. “I dabbled in tennis for a little while back in the day.”

To Conner’s surprise, the old boy was interested in talking about tennis, and said nothing at all about Drucan. Conner found himself actually enjoying the conversation. The boy never asked why he had come to the Sacred Grounds, and Conner was happy with that.

When the boy walked away, the priest Avi walked up to him. “So what did you think?” she asked.

“It was . . . an experience,” Conner said.

“I can understand that,” she said. “I have been to a few Ar’eus services, and they are very different.” She paused, looking to the side. “What do you think of the people here?”

“Some of them are nice,” Conner said.

“What is your experience with religion and spirituality?”

“Well it’s not much of a big deal where I come from,” Conner replied. “We go on pilgrimages sometimes to the four shrines, thanking the sea, sky, mountain, and forest for the things they provide for us.”

“And are there people who believe differently in your community?”

Conner tried to remember. “We just don’t think about it that much, I guess.”

Avi shook her head. “Here, those who are not Ar’eus are looked down upon and discriminated against, despite our Fifteenth Constitutional Amendment, which prohibits the government from making laws that restrict the free exercise of religion. Thirty-four percent of Sorians are Drumani, sixty percent are Ar’eus, and most of the rest are atheist. But do you know what the numbers are in the government?”

Conner shook his head.

“One hundred percent Ar’eus. You cannot get elected to office if you are not a member of that religion.”

“That doesn’t seem right,” Conner said.

“It’s certainly not,” Avi agreed. “The government is supposed to represent the people. Unless thirty-four percent of government officials are Drumani and six percent are atheist and other, the system will be biased. Equality under the law is not enough. There has to be a cultural shift toward accepting people who believe differently.”

“Well I hope things change for the better,” Conner said. After a pause, he remarked, “You aren’t acting how I expected a priest would act.”

“How so?”

“Well, you talked about government and social stuff. I would have thought you would talk about Drumani stuff instead.”

“I do enough of that during services and prayers,” Avi said. “To be honest, it gets tiring sometimes. Yes, I am a priest, and I fulfill my priestly responsibilities. But the most important commandment is to do good, and for me, that means devoting my time to things outside of my job that are important.”

“That’s a view I can respect,” Conner said.

Oliver was talking and laughing with a small group of boys and girls. Mara was standing in a corner, looking very small. Conner walked up and leaned against the wall next to her. “What are you thinking?” he said.

“How much I really wish I could go underground,” she said.

“Want to go back to our room?”

Mara nodded. Conner tapped Oliver on the shoulder and told him that he and Mara were going back. Oliver said a quick goodbye to his new friends, and joined them.

As they walked across the grounds, the sun sinking below the horizon and casting the mountains in red, Conner saw for the first time a large building near their foot. It was too far away for him to make out any detail, but it looked enormous. “Is that the temple?” he asked.

“Huh?” Oliver squinted in that direction through his glasses. “I reckon so.”

“It’s so frustrating that the last medallion is right there, so close but beyond our grasp.”

“Agreed,” Oliver said. “And also frightening that the Tarrans are just as close as we are. They might even try to steal it.”

“And there is no way that we’d steal it first,” Mara said.

“True,” Oliver replied. “And if we could sink that low, we would still have to worry about the wild raptors with the Disease.”

“Well,” Mara said, “the day after tomorrow, it will all be settled, for better or for worse.”

When they got to their hotel room, they were relieved to find that they had been provided with pajamas. Their clothes were dusty and sweaty, and sleeping without them was not an option in a mixed-gender environment. Conner and Oliver took turns in the shower, while Mara showered in her room. They still had energy left in them when they were done, so they stayed up and talked for a while.

“Electrobolt called me up today,” Oliver said, pulling a hand-sized phone with a screen on it from his backpack. “He said he’s been trying to figure out why we seem immune to the Disease, even though we have been around lots of people who have it. He hasn’t figured anything out yet, but he thinks it might be important for our quest.”

“Did you tell him about our carrier hypothesis?” Mara asked.

“I did,” Oliver said. “He said it was a good idea, and he would keep it in mind.”

It naturally happened as they got into bed that Oliver was on the side closer to Mara. Conner felt a little jealous, but still felt a rush of excitement at sleeping in the same room as a girl. He could only imagine what it felt like for Mara, being the only girl sleeping in the same room as two boys.

In the morning, Mara and Oliver both showered again. Conner didn’t, considering once a day to be enough. The sun was a fair way up in the sky, and breakfast was about to end when they arrived. Conner chalked it up to rocket lag. Durgna, Senna, and Bloar couldn’t be seen, but that did not mean there weren’t other Tarrans in the room, indistinguishable to Conner from the Sorians. They didn’t know for sure it was just the three of them, after all.

“We need a game plan,” Conner said. “How are we going to spend the time we are given to increase our chances of being chosen to receive the medallion?”

“We could talk to the priests,” Oliver suggested. “They are the ones who decide. We could take turns getting to know them, listening to what they have to say, and telling them about us.”

“Shouldn’t we stick together?” Mara said.

“Splitting up will increase our chances,” Oliver replied.

Mara closed her eyes for a few seconds. “I’m nervous. I don’t want to have to go around this place alone.”

“I’ll go with you,” Oliver said, cutting Conner off as he opened his mouth to make the same offer.

“Thanks,” Mara said.

“We’ll go see Avi this morning,” Oliver said. He looked at Conner. “How about you?”

“I’ll talk to Irom,” Conner replied. “Shak kind of scares me.”

“Same,” Oliver said.

Conner found Irom using a hammer and chisel to chip pieces off a rock the size of two grumpoys stacked on top of each other. “Hi,” Conner said.

Irom looked up, smiling, and then went back to chiseling. “Hello, Conner. How was your night?”

“It was good,” Conner said. “What are you making?”

“A Bestowal,” Irom said. “It is the scene where Drucan gives the Ten Virtues to yumanity.”

“Who is Drucan, anyway?” Conner asked. “Is he a Raquon?”

Irom looked thoughtful. “The historical Drucan might have been. The Drucan we worship is God born yuman.”

“What do you mean, the histormical Drucan, and the Drucan you worship?” Conner said, realizing a moment too late that he had mispronounced the word.

Irom whistled. “That’s a tough question. Let’s see how well I can answer it.” He wiped his brow.” Almost twelve thousand years ago, there lived a boy named Drucan. He was a very amazing and influential person, doing many great deeds, speaking many great truths, and gaining an enormous following. Most historians, both in the Drucanic religions and otherwise, agree about this. This Drucan is the historical Drucan.

“After his death, legends grew up around him. You know how it is, I’m sure. As stories are told, the parts that are easy to remember, the parts that resonate within us, get passed on, changing ever so slightly each time to become more memorable. After a long enough time of this, the factual history of the story gets whittled away, replaced by tales of miracles and divinity. You can see this in the history of how Ar’eus and Drumani split from one another and became two different religions seven thousand years ago, and now have two different overlapping sets of myths in their holy books. The Drumani version of this glorified, deified Drucan is the Drucan we worship.”

Conner squinted, feeling as if he had just heard Oliver deny the existence of science. “How can you be a priest if you don’t believe the Drucan you worship was actually real?”

“Because I believe religion is about values, not learning about the past,” the priest said. “Science and archeology are much better at doing that than religion. But what science does not help us with is the meaning of life.”

A thought struck Conner. “Do you think that other religions might be better for some people?”

Irom chuckled. “While I personally believe Drumani will lead to the best life for everyone, I understand that this is merely a belief, and I could be wrong.”

“Avi says Drumani aren’t allowed into the government. Wouldn’t that mean that if someone really wants to go into politics, it would be better for them to convert?”

“Some do,” Irom said, “but for the people who take Drumani seriously, who get the most out of it in their lives, asking them to convert to Ar’eus is like,” he shrugged, “asking them to change the color of their skin.”

“What if Drumani were allowed into government? Avi seems pretty fired up about that.”

“She is, she is, but I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect there to be an equal number of Drumani as Ar’eus. If things remain peaceful, which I believe they should, I think the Ar’eus will always have the advantage, because they have a head start.”

“That seems kind of depressing,” Conner said.

“Not at all,” Irom countered. “It is just the way history goes. Things are good for us. Sure, many things would get better if we had representation in the government, but we would also lose something that makes us who we are. There is purpose in overcoming hardship. Shak can tell you more about that this afternoon. He’s building fence to keep the raptors out, and last I heard he was looking for assistance.”

They continued talking for the rest of the morning. By noon, the rock Irom was working on vaguely resembled a yuman covered by a thick blanket. They walked to the dining hall, joining up with Oliver and Mara. Avi and Shak joined them too, and they ate lunch together.

After lunch, a boy with gigantic muscles introduced himself to them. “Hi, I’m Greg,” he said. “I’m a metalworker. I’m making weapons for everyone for the expedition tomorrow, so that we can defend ourselves from the raptors. What kind of blades do you want?”

Oliver stammered an unintelligible reply. Conner said nothing, his eyes bugging out of his head.

“It’s quite all right,” Irom said. “We priests have our traditional rapiers. Most people will be carrying palm-sized knives. A few have guns, but we do not have the resources to make more.”

“I’ll take a knife,” Mara said. Oliver went with the same.

Conner almost asked for a dagger, but then a bizarre thought entered his mind. “Can you make new things that have never been made before?”

Greg shrugged his massive shoulders. “If it’s simple enough, sure.”

“I have something, and I wonder if you can attach a blade to it.”

“Show me, and I’ll let you know.”

Conner went back to the hotel room, and looked around for his stuff. There it was, on the floor. His tennis racket. He picked it up. If this worked, it would be beyond awesome.

He brought it back and showed it to Greg. “I know it’s weird,” Conner said, “but I just have to know. Could you attach a blade onto here?” He traced his finger around the outside of the racket rim.

Greg took the racket from him and looked at it. “It’s certainly unconventional, but I could definitely try.” He looked at Conner. “You’re good at handling this, I presume?”

“I never hit anything I don’t want to,” Conner said.

“All right, I’ll have this back to you by tomorrow morning.” He walked away, carrying Conner’s racket with him.

As the afternoon began, Conner, Oliver, and Mara joined Shak and a bunch of Tantalians. To their dismay, Senna and Bloar were among them. Shak led them all out beyond the buildings, to where a truck was parked with a bunch of equipment in its trailer. He took out several tools, each looking like a pair of pipe-shaped shovels attached by a hinge near their blades, and passed them out, along with measuring tapes.

“I’ve marked the places to dig with flags. Each of you choose a flag and dig a hole two feet deep. When you’re done, move on to a new flag. There’s water here if you get thirsty.” He patted a giant cooler resting in the trailer. “Mark your cup and reuse it.”

“What about the rest of us?” Mara asked, when all of the post hole pincers had been handed out.

“We’ll follow behind and put the posts in the holes.” Shak pointed out toward the line of flags. “All right, let’s get to work.”

Conner ambled over to a flag, moving the handles of the tool he had been given. “How am I supposed to use this?” he asked the nearest person. Looking up, he froze, when he realized it was Senna.

Senna looked at him. “Like this,” she said, putting the handles together and wrapping her hands around both of them. She lifted the tool into the air, blades down, and then jammed it into the ground. Then she pulled the handles apart in a scissoring motion, and lifted it up, the blades clamping around a chunk of dirt.

Shaking his head, he focused on his task, repeating the motion she had shown him. The task was oddly relaxing, rather than tedious as he had thought it might be. As he worked, he found himself looking up at Senna every once in a while, a question burning in his mind. Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask it.

“Senna,” he said. She looked up at him and he swallowed. Don’t chicken out now, he told himself. “Were you on Chronesia recently?”

Senna looked at him, as if trying to figure out why he would ask that, and then shook her head.

“Right,” Conner said quietly, returning to his work. He had known it couldn’t have really been her in the Time Palace. It was a pointless question.

He finished his hole and dug several more. After a while, his hands got sore, so he traded positions with one of the beam setters, holding the planks in place while someone else nailed them to the posts that had been set in the holes he had helped dig. It was neat to see the fence come together, the structure appearing where there had been none before, from the combined forces of everyone working together on their own parts.

And then, it was finished. A long section of wooden fence about six feet tall, four horizontal beams running between each of the posts.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Shak said, standing nearby.

“Yeah,” Conner said.

“What you feel is the satisfaction of doing the hard work of Drucan.”

“The historical Drucan or the religious Drucan?” Conner found himself asking.

Although Shak was outside of his peripheral vision, he could feel disapproval radiating from his direction. “You’ve been talking to Irom, haven’t you.”

Conner didn’t say anything, feeling uncomfortable.

Shak continued. “He holds a senseless idea in his head that there are somehow two truths existing at the same time. But the law of non-contradiction says that is impossible. There can only be one truth.”

“But what about when stories change over time?” Conner asked.

“The Veritaria is the Word of Drucan,” Shak said. “By his guidance, not a single word has been changed, nor speaks of things that did not happen. If this were not the case, if the works and teachings of Drucan described in the Veritaria were not true history, then the entire religion would be meaningless.”

“I don’t think it’s meaningless,” Conner said. “I hear a lot of people have meaningful lives by following it. And I feel the satisfaction of hard work right now, as we just talked about, and I’m not even a Drumani.”

“All of that is proof that the Veritaria is inerrant. Every word of it is true.”

Something about that seemed not right to Conner, but he could not figure out what it was. Maybe he would ask Oliver later. “All three of you priests are very different,” he said. “How do you get along?”

Shak chuckled. “I don’t know. But I thank Drucan that we do.”

At supper and during the evening, Conner, Oliver, and Mara continued to hang out and have conversations with the priests, and some of the other Tantalians. The day ended with a reminder to get up bright and early, because the trip to the temple was scheduled for right after breakfast. Conner and his friends knew that there was no way they would forget. It was, after all, the whole reason they had come to Tantalus in the first place.

“There’s something we’ve been putting off,” Conner said, after they had all showered, but before they went to bed. “We still have to figure out how to get the medallions back from the Tarrans.”

“I’ve been thinking about that for some time,” Oliver said, unzipping his backpack, “which is why I brought these.” He pulled out the three medallions they still had, white, magenta, and gold, with powers of ice, light, and time.

“You idiot!” Conner said, “what if they take them from us too?”

“I worried about that,” Oliver said, “but these are our only hope of defeating them. Sure, they have three medallions too, but the power of time gives us a major advantage. If we are careful and play our hand right, we can win.”

“There’s no violence allowed on the Sacred Grounds,” Mara said.

“Unfortunately,” Oliver replied, “we might have to break that rule.”

“Break the rules?” Mara said, disbelieving.

“I kinda like these people,” Conner said. “I don’t want to upset them.”

Oliver shook his head. “I don’t want to either, but I don’t see any other way this could go down. Maybe something unexpected will happen that lets things end peacefully, but . . .” He trailed off.

They went to bed with that thought hanging over their heads.