Chapter 6
Chapter Six
That evening, Sin walked through the large open doors of his church, ignoring the priests moving along the sides of the massive room.
Without slowing his steps, he made his way to the massive gold statue at the back of the room.
Two large, sculpted wings emerged from the lashes of a closed eye.
The last rays of the day trickled through the high windows, making it appear as if it glowed from within.
He'd always loved this time of day in the cathedral. It seemed so holy, and so quiet, making him feel as if he could almost hear God whispering in his mind. When he reached the first step, Sin knelt and bowed his head, two fingers pressing gently between his eyebrows.
"May I serve only the power of God, and do Your will as only You can see best." It was the standard prayer for any priest returning to the Legion.
"Amen," a warm voice said behind him. Benedict moved to his side, resting an aged but firm hand on his shoulder. "You, my son, have little reason to fear straying from His path. Welcome home."
"It's good to be home, Father," Sin said, taking the Praetor's hand and pressing the ornate ring to his lips before rising. "How have you been?"
Benedict smiled and gestured for Sin to follow him. "Well, by the grace of God. Has your time with the Ingénue Project worn at your faith already?"
"No, but it's only been one day," Sin assured him. "The girl I was assigned to is respectful enough." He shrugged. "That is, if you consider a robot's silence to be respectful."
Benedict said nothing until they were out of the cathedral and heading toward the dormitories in the back. When the sound of their feet stopped echoing and became little more than a soft thud, the Praetor casually said, "You know, the loss of humanity is one of God's greatest concerns."
Sin gestured to his own cybernetic eye. "He's not the only one, Praetor. It plagues me every time I use it." Which was true, but also not that simple.
Benedict kept walking, leading him into a small private office where he gestured for Sin to take a plush velvet chair, lowering his elegantly robed body into the one beside it.
This was what the leader of the Legion called a home.
It was opulent, but it also served as a meeting place for dignitaries and government officials, so it had to be.
More importantly, though, it was completely private.
Once he was comfortable, Benedict let out a heavy sigh.
"Sinclair, the concept of humanity takes many forms. Enhancements are no better—or worse—than a lack of empathy.
When we discuss humanity, we must be careful we do not assume to know God's intentions, my boy.
And your altered body wasn't done by your choice.
That means it is not your burden to bear, but mine. "
Because when he'd been rushed to the hospital, Sin had been unconscious.
The Praetor himself had authorized any necessary life-saving efforts, including enhancement.
The Legion had covered the costs—at least for the surgery.
When he'd passed out, Sin had honestly believed he was about to die, and yet he'd woken up as a whole man.
One who had to relearn much of his new body, but still very whole and functional.
"Whose burden my enhancements are doesn't mean I can't see the advantages, or the appeal," he pointed out.
"Yet you didn't choose a full cybernetic arm?
" Benedict countered. "You haven't replaced your other eye?
By now, you could have easily had your synthetics re-skinned to look more natural.
Brother Sinclair, familiarity with temptation only allows you to understand the reasoning of our disciples.
It does not doom you for all eternity. There is a reason our God forgives.
It's because we can never be perfect. Not even me. "
"I can only pray that is so," Sin replied, bowing his head. "Father, I have come to ask a question."
"Not to seek confession?" The Praetor asked, a teasing tone to his voice.
Sin chuckled. "No, I haven't quit smoking yet. I did confess my addiction to Brother Trent, who has given me penance."
"Ah, I should have known you would turn to him." Benedict leaned back, steepling his fingers before him.
"It's convenient," Sin said. "Brothers Trent, Rob, Davis, and Sister Julie are often available when I need them. We do work together often."
The old man merely smiled. "The word you're looking for, my boy, is friends. Being a priest does not prohibit such things, you know."
"No, but our duties often do," Sin replied, because those four weren't simply friends.
In truth, the five of them had grown close because they all harbored the same fears about how the church had been evolving recently.
Something about it didn't feel right. Lately, it seemed as if corporations were being given the lion's share of the attention, and those in real need were pushed aside.
So they'd formed a group. No, they didn't have regular meetings, but if someone needed a second opinion, they knew a safe person to ask.
Together, they'd all been watching, taking note of things that didn't fit with what they'd been taught the church should be concerned with.
So far, no one could explain why something felt wrong, but it still did, and they intended to figure it out.
Benedict nodded solemnly, giving in. "So tell me more about your assignment. Have you figured out why they only wanted your protection for one of these Ingénues? Do they intend to ask for more?"
"That's actually why I'm here," Sin muttered, rubbing at his face.
The way he'd phrased that was just a little too close to one of the options the girl had predicted, and it made him uncomfortable.
Never before had he doubted the leader of his faith, but something was clearly going on.
"I've been given almost no information freely.
OutLink Corp. acts as if this girl is special, though.
Unfortunately, she won't even give me her name.
She's proud and contrary, but never says a single thing unless she has to.
And yet…" He sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not being a very good priest when it comes to this assignment. "
"I'm sure you'll find the right path," Benedict assured him.
Sin bowed his head, shifting his hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. "I alternate between disgust and compassion with her. I think once I'm more accustomed to the responsibility, I'll know better how to guide and protect her."
"Mm. Does she solve problems for you?" Benedict asked.
Sin felt a moment of shock race through him.
His angel had said the Praetor wanted an answer, and the old man sounded entirely too interested in getting one.
A million reasons why ran through his head, and unfortunately, most of them weren't good.
Then again, of the options she'd listed, this was the best.
"She has actually offered to solve one for you, Praetor," he replied.
Benedict’s lips curled into a smile. "Then it seems she's not as robotic as you say. This girl clearly thinks on her own enough to realize assigning a Legate to a brain-for-hire is not how things are usually done."
"Trust me, I'm very aware of that."
"Good," Benedict said. "The next time you see her, tell the girl my question comes in two parts. First, I'm curious as to what she thinks the purpose of life is. When I hear the answer to that, I will beg her for the second part."
"Beg?" Sin scoffed at the idea. The Praetor was one of the most respected men on all of Tyche. He shouldn't need to beg.
Benedict simply smiled. "Yes, my boy. Beg. There is no shame in debasing yourself. Even the highest among us have needs. Those needs drive us. Mine is solving a riddle. Yours is understanding a woman."
Sin chuckled. "You make it sound so incredibly mundane like that."
"And what else is life but mundane?" Benedict countered. "Sinclair, I hope you realize this assignment is not a trivial one."
He fought to suppress his groan. "I want to believe that—I honestly do—but I can't see the reason for all of this.
There are countless private security companies she could afford.
More with OutLink's sponsorship. Her responsibilities aren't ones that benefit all mankind, and she's definitely not trying to alter the fabric of society as we know it.
This woman simply gets paid to make companies even richer. "
"Is it ever so simple?" Benedict asked.
"Isn't it?" Sin shot back.
The old man chuckled. "I believe that means we disagree."
"So why did you assign me to her?" Sin asked, refusing to show the frustration he truly felt. "Is this because you don't think I'm ready to be back in a real position?"
"This is a real position," Benedict told him.
"That is why I chose you. No, not for some hypothetical lesson on morality or such, but because I feel this is important.
God guides our hands in ways we can never expect, but over time, we learn to understand when His influence is involved.
The moment this request came to the Legion, I saw it.
Not through the normal channels, because it likely would have been rejected that way.
" He swayed his hands, sawing through the air with the peak of his fingers while he thought.
"Sinclair, I had prayed for an answer. God gave me an Ingénue.
My gut tells me this is not a coincidence. "
Sin licked at his lips. "I hope you're right, Father."
"Me too." Then Benedict relaxed his hands and waved that all away. "But your angel is not the only problem on your mind, is it?"
Sin could only sigh. This man knew him better than most, having all but raised him for the last sixteen years. He could never tell how Benedict made these guesses, but he was always right when he did.
"I'm concerned about Joshua's recent decisions," he admitted.
"Which ones?"
"I feel like the Legion is being pushed toward a corporate agenda," Sin explained.
"Our protection assignments are bringing in more money to the church than ever before.
The value to society, however, has decreased enough that more people think of us as little more than fancy bodyguards.
Then there's his recent comments during his ceremonies. "
"Ah." Benedict nodded. "The first precept has become rather controversial ever since he was elected to Censor, hasn't it?"
Sin scrubbed at his mouth. "I feel like he's undermining your decisions."
"I do as well."
"Then why did you choose him!" Sin finally snapped. "Of all the priests who would have been thrilled to work at your side, why Joshua?"
Benedict simply leaned closer and lowered his voice. "I didn't choose him. I put forward Sister Maria. The Conclave felt she would offer nothing to the Legion that I do not already provide."
"They chose him because of his stance on the first precept?" Sin asked, appalled.
"Mm-hmm," Benedict said, lifting a brow.
"But why?" Sin asked. "What good does it do to set people against each other like that?"
"Fear makes for easy subjects to control," Benedict said as if quoting from somewhere. "It doesn't even matter what they're afraid of. Give them a monster, promise to defeat it, and then talk a lot about how you are slowly gaining victory, and the masses will forgive all other transgressions."
"Ok..." He could understand that, but he wasn't sure how it applied.
"And I'm not a young man, Sinclair. Patience is a virtue, and every priest in the Legion learned it early on. The real question is where you'll stand when I'm no longer here to ease the dissent."
"Wherever God needs me to," Sin said automatically.
"No, my boy. Think about this. It is well known that you're the closest thing I have to an heir to this position.
You are enhanced. Your ascension into the position of Praetor all but ends the debate on how to interpret the first precept.
Conversely, because of your history, having you support the idea that enhancement is bad would strengthen the grip of their faction on society.
Even more terrifyingly, removing you from the Legion completely?
" He opened his hands, leaving Sin to figure out for himself how that would play out.
"So where you'll be is something you should consider now, because time moves faster than any of us like. "
"I'm not ready to set aside my wings," Sin told him, knowing that would be required for him to become Praetor.
"Not even if God calls?"
Sin could only sigh. "I don't know, Father. I wouldn't assume to know the will of the Lord. I'm just here to serve Him. That doesn't mean I'm ready for it."