The Worlds of the Sheaf

Lost in Space - Part 2

     The moon trogs had no such worries. They had lived their whole lives with the view of the stars through the crystal panes of the farm domes, and some had to go out onto the surface of Kronos to maintain and repair the solar collection mirrors and install new ones. As far as they were concerned it was just the sky, as taken for granted as the blue sky and clouds of Tharia. They would have made ideal observers, therefore, but Karog scarcely thought of them as he and Saturn thrashed the problem of locating the portal back and forth, getting nowhere. They were both beginning to get a real idea of the problem facing them as they began to understand the sheer size of space. Even Karog, who'd thought he understood because he'd worked out the numbers. Only now were all those zeros really coming alive in his head, though.

     They worked at it for hour after hour, considering and discarding one idea after another until they were almost shouting at each other in their anger and frustration, and in the end Saturn decided they needed a break to allow them both to calm down. Maybe some fresh ideas would come to them if they could just relax. Spend some time in quiet thought. Karog nodded his agreement and he left to go to the chapel, to spend some time in prayer and contemplation.

     He was surprised to find all three of the other priests already there. The priest of Samnos down on one knee in front of the altar itself, the other two sitting in the front row of pews. All three looked as though they had something heavy on their minds, and Karog sat beside Timothy Birch, the only one of the three he knew well enough to talk to. If he talked the other man's problems over with him, he thought, maybe some idea as to how to solve his own problem might pop into his head.

     "You're worrying we might not be able to find the portal," the young cleric of Caroli replied to his question with a sigh, "but we're worried about what'll happen to us if we do find it and pass through."

     "What do you mean?" asked the trog, fingering his trophy cords as he stared up at him.

     "The Gods we worship are the Gods of this universe," Timothy said, "but this portal leads to at least one other universe, possibly several, and we know that other universes have their own Gods. That's why we priests hardly ever go plane walking, like the wizards. Those who have travelled to other universes report that they are only distantly aware of their Gods, and that their ability to channel holy power and use their granted powers are greatly reduced. Some have even been seduced away to the worship of other Gods..."

     "That is not something that concerns me," said the priest of Samnos, standing and crossing the floor to glare down at the cleric of Caroli. "My faith is strong. It will not waver."

     His name, Karog remembered, was Drenn Pietar, and he was reported to be a promising young man who had chosen the rank of Corporal for himself, placing him roughly on the same level as Matthew Winterwell. Drenn was in his mid twenties and had been accepted into the service of the war God only a few years before, meaning he was still relatively junior in his faith. He could have proclaimed himself a Captain, of course. No other priest would have disputed his chosen rank with him, and neither would the mundane army officers he would occasionally fight alongside, but he was aware enough of his limitations and inexperience to know that he wasn't yet ready for that rank.

     "Of course not," agreed Timothy hurriedly.

     "And as far as my priestly powers are concerned..." the huge priest continued, drawing his sword and showing it to the cleric. "So long as I have this, I have all I need. Good and evil are the same in all universes."

     "He didn't mean to question your faith," said Daleen Verdantia, the cleric of Ramthara. Karog knew that she was only in her late twenties, but her hair was already showing traces of grey and her eyes were edged with wrinkles of care and concern. She remained strikingly attractive, though, despite the accelerated ageing she'd suffered from the flows of holy power through her body. Indeed, the trog had overheard some of the soldiers whispering that the signs of age and experience made her even more beautiful, although he couldn't see it himself. He preferred his women rather more wrinkly than that, and more muscular under their loose skin.

     She came originally from the far north, where the sea was frozen into a solid sheet of ice for half the year and every living thing was buried under a thick blanket of snow. Worship of the Goddess of Life was devout and enthusiastic under those circumstances, as everyone sought reassurance that the long winter would end and the ice lose its stranglehold on the land.

     "We are all strong in our faith, I'm sure," she said, "but we nevertheless feel a certain... apprehension as we approach this schism with our deities. I'm not ashamed to admit the fear I feel."

     "Nor me," agreed Timothy, breathing a sigh of relief as the priest of Samnos sheathed his sword. "But we'll still be able to pray and our prayers will still be heard."

     "And they'll still be able to channel some power to us, if not as much," added the woman, clutching the polished marble egg that hung on a chain around her neck. The symbol of fertility and birth, one of the three aspects of Ramthara, Goddess of life. "Our Gods will still be with us."

     That cheered the other priests, and they looked happier after that. "You don't seem as bothered by any of this as the rest of us," said Daleen to Karog, however. "How are you able to contemplate this distancing from your God with such equanimity?"

     "It will make little difference to me," the trog replied. "Caratheodory seldom speaks to us. It sometimes seems to us that He doesn't care whether He is worshipped or not, but the numbers are everywhere. I will be able to multiply and subtract as well there as here, and when I return, He will be here waiting for me."

     "I don't know whether to envy you or pity you," said the cleric of Ramthara softly. "To be so little regarded by the one you've devoted your life to..."

     "I have not devoted my life to him," corrected Karog, however. "I'm not even sure whether the word worship is appropriate. Our relationship to our God is... more casual than yours. I have other things in my life. I think of myself more as an engineer than a priest."

     The other three stared at him. "Extraordinary," said Drenn, eyeing him with his steely grey eyes. "I know little of other faiths. What granted powers have you?"

     "Ye mean like being able to repel the undead or purify stagnant water with a touch? Nothing like that. Caratheodory does not bother with such things."

     "But you can perform miracles?" asked Daleen uncertainly. "Your God must give his worshippers some way of defending themselves. Some reward for their devotion."

     "We are not encouraged to interfere in the affairs of the world," replied the trog, his lips curling into a smile. "We're supposed to spend all day sitting in a cave scribbling calculations on sheets of paper. We are above the mundane affairs of the world. I am something of a rebel in this respect. A heretic."

     The others stared at him. Heresy was almost unheard of among worshippers of true Gods. If the worshippers of a God disagreed on some aspect of their faith, the God himself would tell them who was right and who was wrong, and if the wrongdoers didn’t listen the God would disown them. Refuse to answer their prayers. The heresy would die out in just a generation or two. The persistence of the application heresy among the worshippers of Caratheodory was almost unique, therefore, and had even led some people to question whether Caratheodory was a true God at all. Could he be just made up? A false god like Derro, the red sun, that was worshipped by some misguided fools? But Caratheodory did sometimes communicate with his worshippers, even if only rarely, and the other Gods had confirmed his existence.

     Karog’s words hung in the chapel, though, making them all feel awkward, until Timothy came to his rescue. "And very glad of it we are as well!" he cried, slapping the trog on the shoulder. "Here's to heresy!"

     Drenn and Daleen could only grunt noncommittally, however, as they drifted away to return to their prayers. "Don't worry about them," the cleric of Caroli said with a grin. "They'll come around."

     "Maybe I shouldn't have used the word heresy," said Karog, frowning. "Especially to a priest of Samnos."

     "They'll understand. We need you. We need your skill with numbers, and if you were an orthodox member of your faith you wouldn't be here. Did you come here to pray?"

     "I suppose I did," agreed the trog.

     "Then let's pray together. Success in finding the Shipbuilders and a safe return home."

     "That sounds good to me," agreed Karog, and they approached the altar together.