One Nation, Under Jupiter

MARCH 15, 2766

Many of the concerned parents that send their children off to Camp Piety are under the impression that the camp is run by the government. After all, their mission is to help Nova Roma's more confused citizens stay on the path of morality, an agenda in line with the Emperor's own. While the dozens of Camp Piety locations that dot the country surely run with the state's silent approval, the organization behind them is privately managed and funded. Camp Piety can be called many things, but above all else I'd call it a testament to the ability of the average Roman. No matter how corrupt the government can become, they'll never be able to match the ingenuity that a hard-working private citizen can put into cruelty.

In front of me sat Odia Liberi, the owner of New Antioch's Camp Piety chapter. With her oversized spectacles and curly hair tied up into a bun, it takes just a quick look at Odia to realize she must be somebody's mother. On her desk lay the usual paraphernalia you'd expect in an office, assorted files strewn all over with a telephone sitting neatly to her right. On the other side of the desk, however, sits a household god. On the walls hung a series of vintage posters, probably from the days of the old war with China, espousing the virtues of piety and the importance of honoring the gods. Servius scooted his chair the tiniest bit to the left, as if to keep his distance from me.

"We know what some people have to say about us," said Odia warmly. "I don't mind too much, of course. It takes thick skin trying to do good in a world that seems more consumed by evil each day. But I'll confess, there is one word they use that always hurts when I hear it: 'Hateful.' There is nothing hateful about our operations at Camp Piety." The woman folded her hands, leaning closer to me. "If we truly hated these kids, we would let them continue with their immoral lifestyle and face the punishments that come with it in the hereafter. But we love them, which is why we work so hard to help them back onto the path of virtue." She smiled to herself, beaming with pride.

"And by helping them you mean..." It was hard mustering the words. "You mean your alleged cure for atheism?"

"There's nothing alleged about it. Despite what some of our more stubborn patients try to tell us, people can change. Nearly all of Camp Piety's graduates have come out as faithful to the gods as the Emperor himself."

"You don't...you don't handle adult patients too, do you?" asked Servius. Odia frowned at the question.

"Unfortunately, if it's an adult citizen those darn laws require the patient's consent for us to take them in. Some poor souls are so stuck in their wicked ways of thinking that they don't even want to be saved! Now, can you believe that? No, I'm afraid most of our patients are here through the approval of their parent or owner."

"You, uh...you said your methods actually worked, though," I said. "If Camp Piety's really as successful as you claim, what exactly does that entail?" Odia pursed her lips together in excitement.

"Let me show you," she said, rising from her chair. "Come on! Time for a tour! Oh, you two are in for a real treat. Not many people get to see something like this."

The three of us departed from Odia's office, navigating the twisted maze of narrow passages that made up the rest of the complex. As we wandered, doors would appear on both sides of the hallway, each of them identical. Same plain tan pattern, same tiny window up on the top. The only change in the scenery that could be seen were the posters decorating the space on the walls between doors. The images may be different, but the themes were very much the same. One proudly displayed a man pointing a shotgun at the camera, the text underneath asking "If the gods don't matter to him, do you?" Another was more simplistic, showing that famous old painting of Julius Caesar they've got hanging in the National Art Museum. "ATHEISM IS TREASON," the poster read.

"Signs of atheism usually start manifesting around adolescence," explained Odia, leading us through the halls without the slightest hesitation at their overbearing layout. "Do you have children, Mr. Cinna?"