Sasha caught Mako in Cherno's Conn Pod, studying a system readout with a contemplative expression. Her first impulse was to start shouting – what right did anyone have to barge into their Jaeger's cockpit uninvited, without asking – but she managed to quell her annoyance and avoid acting on her first impulse. This wasn't some rubbernecking intruder who just wanted to poke at Cherno mindlessly; this was Pentecost's protégé, the young woman who had worked so tirelessly to see Gipsy restored to full repair. Certainly she had a good reason for being here.
She waited a moment to see if Mako would notice her, but when she gave no sign of knowing Sasha was there she cleared her throat. Mako jumped and whirled, her blue-streaked black hair fanning out at the motion.
"Ranger Kaidonovsky!" The young woman gave a respectful bow. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see how Cherno Alpha's systems compared to Gipsy's."
Sasha nodded to acknowledge the greeting. "Apology accepted. Just ask one of us next time. We would have been happy to introduce you."
Mako looked puzzled at Sasha's choice of words, but she didn't comment on it. "I will. You have a fascinating Jaeger. It's amazing that she has kept running this long."
"He," Sasha corrected automatically. "Cherno is no lady. He is a warrior."
Mako offered a knowing smile in return. "Women can be warriors too. You're proof of that."
A smile played across Sasha's lips. She liked young Mako already. Pity she had kept so aloof during her time here – despite being in charge of Gipsy's restoration, she almost never interacted with the Rangers except to ask the most perfunctory of questions. Whether that was due to shyness on her part or simply being too involved in her own project to have time to be social, who could say?
"You do Cherno's repairs yourself?"
"Not all of them," Sasha replied, "but we help. The best way to be familiar with your Jaeger is to know him inside and out. Cherno is not just a weapon, but a partner."
Mako nodded, a slight gleam in her eyes. "You've done well. You've kept Cherno running when many of his generation have long been destroyed or retired. That speaks much of both you and him."
A soft rumble bubbled up from Cherno's engines, and Mako started slightly. Sasha just laughed – gently, so as not to make Mako think she was mocking her.
"Cherno remembers many of his comrades," she explained. "And he still misses them."
Mako let her gaze wander about the Conn Pod, inquisitive eyes picking out new equipment installed amid old consoles and wires trailing throughout the cockpit. "You speak of him as if he is alive."
Sasha said nothing, letting Mako decide where to take the conversation next. Would she believe her if she told her the truth? Or would she decide the older woman was crazy and dismiss the idea of a living Jaeger as a delusion?
"Sometimes… when I'm working on Gipsy… I get the feeling that she knows I'm there. That… she's watching me. I tell myself I'm imagining things, but I can never quite shake it. I had almost convinced myself it was just me being silly, but now… I'm not so sure."
"It isn't silly." Sasha reached out to gently pat one of Cherno's consoles. "We built the Jaegers, yes, but do we really understand them? Or the drift that gives them power? No… I believe when we drift with them, we leave an impression of our soul behind. And the Jaegers are responding to that. Cherno, Gipsy, Crimson, Striker… they are not just machines. They are fellow warriors. Remember that."
Mako nodded. "I will."
Sasha smiled. "You understand the Jaegers, you are intimate with Gipsy's construction… why has Pentecost not considered you as her pilot? You have the makings of a great Ranger in you."
Her eyes flashed, and Sasha wondered if she'd hit a nerve. But when Mako spoke next, it wasn't with rage, but with a sullen resentment.
"I am forbidden from joining the candidates."
"Does Pentecost not think you are ready?"
"I've BEEN ready," she insisted. "I should be the one to pilot Gipsy. But he says now is not the time! He made me a promise, but it means nothing!"
Sasha sensed there was something going on here that she didn't know. Perhaps Mako wasn't as meek and well-mannered as she appeared to be, and being banned from Gipsy's Conn Pod was her punishment. Or perhaps he had more exacting standards than Sasha did, and didn't consider her ready to join the candidates.
Or, more likely, he was just being overprotective of his adopted daughter. While the Marshal didn't discuss it and played no favorites among the workers and Rangers of the Shatterdome, it wasn't exactly a secret that he had raised Mako after her parents were killed in the destruction of Tokyo. Sasha had never imagined the grim, stern Pentecost to be the fatherly type, but he seemed to have done well enough with Mako… even if she found his concern stifling.
Mako was still on Sasha's mind when she encountered Pentecost later that same evening, and so she brought it up first thing.
"You are cruel to the girl."
Pentecost didn't even have to ask which girl – there were many female workers in the Shatterdome, but only one who would have cause to work with both Sasha and the Marshal on a regular basis. "Any problems between Miss Mori and myself are strictly our business, Kaidonovsky. You have no reason to get involved."
"She is the best candidate by far," Sasha countered, ignoring him. "She knows Gipsy far better than any of those other glory-seekers you've recruited. She has trained for this moment all her life-"
"And therein lies the problem," he replied. "That level of obsession is unhealthy, especially for her. I've made my decision regarding Miss Mori's candidacy, and it's final."
She scowled. "You won't even give her a chance?"
"Now is not the time for this," he retorted. "Not when we're ten minutes from a neural handshake."
"Pentecost… she knows. About the Jaegers."
The Marshal raised an eyebrow, the closest she had ever seen him come to a look of surprise. He motioned for her to keep talking.
"I spoke with her in Cherno's Conn Pod," Sasha explained. "She has sensed Gipsy's presence. She knows the Jaegers are more than mere machines… she knows they are not just weapons, but fellow warriors. She has the proper respect for them – which is far more than I can say about some reckless fools who call themselves Rangers." She almost brought up the younger Hansen at that point, but thought better of it. "Even if she were only a mediocre pilot, even if she knew nothing else about Jaegers… that alone makes her qualified in my eyes."
Pentecost was silent a moment, turning that revelation over in his mind. Then he sighed. "Your idea of what qualifies a Ranger is very different from mine… or the PPDC's, for that matter."
"We are Rangers," she replied. "We think like renegades. It's how we accomplish the impossible."
Pentecost sighed. "There's a lot of truth in that." He nodded. "Very well. I've made Mako a promise… and from what you say, it sounds like it's high time I kept it." And with that, he turned and walked away.
Sasha smiled to herself. She had opened the door of opportunity for young Mako. It was up to her to prove herself from here on out.
It was never truly silent in the Jaeger bay – there was always the rumble and clank of machinery, the hum of equipment, and of late the crooning and thrumming of the Jaegers expressing themselves. But right now it seemed much quieter than usual. Crimson and Cherno were silent, and the idle chatter that usually filled the gaps between louder sounds was absent. It was as if the entire Shatterdome were paying reverence to a fallen comrade… an analogy that wasn't so far off the mark.
Cherno crouched beside the blue Jaeger, her remaining hand laying limply in his palm. His internals clenched with horror and pity as he looked over her ruined form – ravaged by Kaiju fangs and claws as well as the final devastating blast that had obliterated the Breach, and defiled by the Precursor's biotech slime. And her presence – the spark of life that many Jaegers possessed – was so faint that he feared it would snuff out at any moment. She was alive, but only just.
Something tickled the side of his leg, and he twisted his torso around to look down at Tendo. Not for the first time he wished he had an actual neck joint; it would make turning his Conn Pod to look at something much easier.
"Cherno, is Gipsy ready for us to begin cleanup and repairs?"
He gestured for the Shatterdome commander to wait a moment, then turned back to the blue Jaeger. Gipsy… how do you feel?
She whimpered, a high creak of grinding metal that gurgled and crunched sickeningly as her few functioning components ground bits of organic matter as they struggled to work. It hurts…
I know, Gipsy… I know. He rested his free hand on her Conn Pod, careful not to touch the massive wad of tissue that filled in the missing half. But the techs are going to make you better. They'll clean you up, get this blue gunk off of you, and get you fixed. If you'll just let them close…
No! The index finger and thumb of her hand – all that was left after the devastating explosion of her reactor core – tightened around his own hand. No! I don't want anyone touching me!
They're humans, not Precursors. They're not going to hurt you.
I don't care! Her engines coughed in a gurgling sob. I don't want them poking around at my insides. I've had too many little hands pawing me… hurting me…
Cherno squeezed her hand, trying to impart a little comfort. If you don't let them help you, it'll keep hurting. Please, they only want to help you. And your Rangers are here, and me and Crimson. We'll make sure they're careful, okay?
She whined again, clinging to his hand. No… I don't want anyone but my Rangers touching me. Or you and Crimson. I know you're safe… I don't trust anyone else.
His fans gusted out a forceful blast of air in a deep sigh. Papa, tell Tendo that Gipsy still doesn't want anyone but Jaegers and her Rangers touching her. Whatever the Precursors did to her, it… it scarred her.
Aleksis relayed the information to Tendo. He listened attentively, then muttered something under his breath that Cherno didn't entirely catch, though he suspected it was pretty profane and directed at the creatures that lived beneath the Breach.
"I can understand that," Tendo said at length, "but that doesn't exactly make our jobs any easier. We need to get her cleaned up and fixed, and we can't do that unless she'll let us get close."
Raleigh spoke up from his vigil at Gipsy's side. "If someone tells us what to do, we'll do it. I'm not afraid of hard work!"
"I'll help as well," Mako added, looking grimly determined despite the tears still shining on her face. "I restored Gipsy once. I can do it again."
Crimson crooned softly, and Cherno added a thrum of his own. He'd never helped repair a member of his own kind before, but then, just about anything he did would be for the first time, he supposed. And if it meant that he and Crimson wouldn't be the last of their kind – and if it meant restoring a comrade they'd given up as lost forever – then he would do just about anything, even swim into the Breach.
"I appreciate your willingness to help, but it's going to take a lot more than four people to get Gipsy back in working order," Tendo replied. "It took hundreds of workers almost a year to repair her the first time."
"You've got a lot bigger hands this time around," Raleigh pointed out. "Crimson and Cherno can lift and attach big parts, and Mako and I can do the detail work. Please… we just want to help Gipsy. She's scared and in pain."
Herc snorted. "It's insane… but everything's been insane about this whole venture so far. I hate to admit it, but it's our best option."
Tendo sighed deeply. "All right… it's not the plan of action I would have liked, but it's going to have to do for now." He looked up at the two functional Jaegers. "Cherno, Crimson, the first order of business is to get that organic matter off and out of her. Our biohazard crews have cleared it as not being toxic, but all the same be careful. We don't know how deeply embedded it is in Gipsy's frame."
Cherno gave an affirmative chirr, then looked back down at Gipsy. Will you let us get this stuff off of you?
Please, she pleaded. It feels disgusting. And I don't want more reminders of that place.
We'll have you out of it soon, dear, Crimson assured her, crouching on her other side. Just hold still. I don't want to nick you by accident. The saws on his two right hands activated, and he began to cut away at the thick tendrils binding her side with almost surgical precision.
"All right, I want that stuff cleared away as soon as they get it off Gipsy!" Tendo shouted. "Put on hazmat suits before handling it – it might not be toxic, but we'd rather be safe than sorry at this point. Save some of it for the science division and haul the rest to the incinerator! Mako, Raleigh, get suited up and get ready to do the detail work. And I hope neither of you are squeamish, this is going to be messy…"
As Cherno worked on unwinding the tissue from around her arm, Gipsy spoke up. You and Crimson are alive. I thought… I thought you'd died fighting Otachi and Leatherback.
We almost did. Cherno pulled the tendril away and set it off to the side. If you and your Rangers hadn't come when you did… we just might have. But Mama and Papa are tough. It takes more than a Kaiju to bring them down.
Her engine snorted, and he looked up quickly, afraid he might have hurt her. But a trickle of amusement colored her tone, and he realized she had been laughing. Your Rangers are some of the toughest I've ever seen. You know… I always thought it was silly of you to call them your parents. But I guess it's not any sillier than me thinking of Raleigh as my brother, or Mako as my sister.
Cherno shrugged. They see me as their son, and they treat me like a son. How can I not think of them as my parents? He winced internally as her lower arm, now free of the tissue, fell off in his hands. Oh no! I'm sorry!
It's okay… that stuff was all that was holding it on. You guys can reattach it… right?
I think so. Jaegers lost arms all the time in battle – even he'd had his arm reattached not too long ago. But that was with experienced repair and construction crews. Would he and Gipsy's Rangers be able to do the same, even with someone more experienced telling them what to do?
What happened there? he asked. In the Breach? If… if you wanted to talk about it.
A slight shiver rippled through her chassis. I don't like to think about it.
"Think about what?" That was Raleigh, looking up from where Bailey was helping him get zipped into a hazmat suit for the cleanup. "Gipsy, talk to us."
What they were doing to me in that other place… the Anteverse. Another shudder. It hurt… it hurt, and I didn't like what they were doing to me. What they were making me become…
"What's goin' on?" demanded Herc. "Dammit, we need to get these Jaegers proper voices somehow. We're missin' out on important conversations here…"
"She means what the Precursors did to her," Mako replied. "But if she doesn't want to talk about it, don't force her. She's already scared and hurting!"
"All the same, we need to know," Tendo replied, not without sympathy. "Anything she can tell us that can possibly help us. If we know what the Precursors are planning, we can stay one step ahead of them. Especially with another Breach open. At this point we can't afford to lose valuable intel just to spare her feelings." He paused a moment, then added "I'm sorry. I know she's traumatized, but that's just the way of things in a war."
Mako scowled at that, and Raleigh looked as if Tendo had asked him to cut off a limb. Cherno couldn't blame them – he might not be as close to Gipsy as her Rangers, but he still hated the thought of making her relive something terrible. But the Shatterdome leader had some valid points. The Precursors weren't going to go away – if anything, losing Gipsy would probably just make them angry and all the more determined to retaliate. They needed whatever information about the Anteverse that she could give them.
And perhaps, if they understood what the Precursors had done to her, they could better help her recover. That would be worth it in his mind.
Gipsy… please tell us what happened, he urged.
No. I don't want to talk about it.
If we don't know, we can't help you, Crimson pointed out. Please, it's for your own good. And if you hold it in, it will just hurt all the more. Like an untreated wound – it will just rust and decay if you don't repair it. His hand rested on her Conn Pod. I'm going to pull this out… be brave for me, dear.
Her presence seemed to curl in on itself, as if she were tensing for a blow. Okay… I'm ready. And… and I'll talk. But not until Crimson's done.
Crimson nodded, and he sank his fingers into the mass of tissue and gave a series of sharp yanks. The cartilaginous stuff clung stubbornly at first, then suddenly came free with a wet sucking sound. The scarlet Jaeger stared distastefully at the lump in his hand, as if he'd just pulled a dead fish from her interior.
Disgusting, he griped, setting the lump down.
Thank you, Gipsy murmured. I think that was the worst of all they did. I never wanted anything but my Rangers in there. Having that in my Conn Pod… it was horrible.
What were they trying to do? Cherno asked. Torture you? Did they want information?
No… I don't think they even realized I knew what they were doing to me. They don't see their Kaiju as alive and sentient – they're just giant tools. Why would they think Jaegers are any different?
Oh, right. But still… why all this? What was it for?
I couldn't see or hear them, she admitted. Only feel what they were doing. But… somehow, when they reattached my arm with this stuff… I could feel it again, and even move my fingers. Same with the stuff they stuck inside me. It was like they were using their own tech to fix me. I think… I think they were trying to rebuild me. Or at least figure out how I worked so they could build a Jaeger of their own.
Cherno shivered at that. A Precursor Jaeger… the very thought of that made his reactor bubble with disgust. It wasn't enough that they wanted to steal this world from the humans; they wanted to steal the Jaegers too! Slag superior technology, those aliens were nothing more than slimy, cowardly thieves all around! Not to mention cruel, given what they'd done to Gipsy.
How did you get away?
Something… happened. I don't know what, but… but suddenly I could move. I could never do that before, not without my Rangers. I thought it was something the Precursors did to me, but… but you and Crimson are moving around too, so I guess that's not it. I couldn't see or hear… but I could feel. And I could feel them burrowing inside me, trying to install their gross tech, and I panicked. I think I killed a lot of them getting away. A burst of triumph at that. I don't know why they let me go… maybe I was more trouble than I was worth to them. Or maybe they wanted to send a message to the PPDC. I don't know. I'm just glad to be away from there.
A message… that was entirely possible. If they couldn't use Gipsy as a test subject, they could certainly find other uses. And letting her find her way back to the Shatterdome would send a definite message to the PPDC – that the Precursors were no longer scared of the Jaegers, and that if any of them fell into their hands, this would be their ultimate fate.
But that had backfired on them, Cherno thought smugly. They had Gipsy back… and once she was repaired, she'd have even more of a reason to fight with all her core against the monsters of the Breach. The Precursors were going to wish they'd never even set a hand, paw, or tentacle on Gipsy Danger or any other Jaeger…
A sudden thought crossed his mind, and he squeezed Gipsy's hand before remembering it was no longer attached to her. Gipsy! What about Striker? Was he there too? Did you feel him there? If they got him too, we should go back and rescue him!
A flicker of surprise. No… and Cherno, he couldn't have been there. Pentecost and Chuck blew up the bomb he was carrying. He was… obliterated.
Cherno's core sank. So much for a rescue mission… or for any hope that another Jaeger had survived. More than anything, he didn't want the three of them to be the only Jaegers left. Though the likelihood of them ever finding other Jaegers was pretty slim, he still clung to it.
Raleigh, meanwhile, had overheard Gipsy's side of the conversation, and he relayed it to Tendo and Hansen. The former paled, while the latter let loose an impressive string of expletives.
"Bloody buggers can't leave well enough alone, can they?"
"We can only hope that whatever intelligence they gained from Gipsy was limited," Tendo replied. "And despite her condition, having Gipsy back means that we have another Jaeger… and one more line of defense against the Kaiju."
"If we can fix her," Baily pointed out. "She's in really bad shape… even Cherno didn't look this bad. And do we even have the funds?"
"We have resources," countered Tendo. "Oblivion Bay, for one thing."
"The Jaeger graveyard?" Jin asked with a grimace.
"The very same. We got parts from other Mark Is from there to fix Cherno. I see no reason why we can't scavenge components to repair Gipsy either. We just need to send a team out to fetch them."
Jin shook his head. "Not me. No way, man. That place is haunted."
Herc snorted. "You've been hearin' too many stories, kid."
"Stories have to have a basis in fact, right?" Cheung chimed in. "And the Oblivion Bay stories are the worst! Something screams there at night… and there are people who say the Jaegers get up and walk around when no one's looking. They've even got photos showing Jaegers that have shifted around during the night. It's spooky."
Mako's eyes flashed in sudden interest. "Moving Jaegers? So there could be more living Jaegers! Ones that have come to life and are just waiting for their Rangers!"
Cherno perked up at that, giving a squeal of excitement.
"If there were a living Jaeger in Oblivion Bay, we would have known by now," Tendo countered, deflating Cherno's enthusiasm. "A Jaeger walking around is a tough thing to miss, after all. I still plan on sending a team to gather what parts we need to fix Gipsy. Mark III if you can find them, though Mark II or IV will suffice as well."
Cherno hesitated, then raised his hand.
"Cherno, this isn't school, you can say something without being called on," Tendo told him, though he wore a faint smile as he said that.
He gave a questioning hum and touched his chest.
"What… oh, you want to go with them?"
He bobbed slightly in a nod.
"I thought Oblivion Bay terrified you," Sasha told him, laughing softly.
I just want to see it once, he told her. Maybe if I visit, I can see it's nothing to be scared of. And I want to help Gipsy. Even if it's just picking out new parts for her and helping carry them. He didn't add that he wanted to see if Mako's theory was true… but Sasha seemed to pick up on that anyhow, though she didn't say anything aloud.
"You will need someone to carry the big components," Sasha pointed out.
"We're not ready to reveal to the world at large that the Jaegers are sentient," Tendo told her. "Though… I suppose they'll buy the story that we can't afford to ship the parts. Which isn't that far from the truth, actually." He sighed a bit. "I don't like it, but I'll allow it. But if he goes, you and Aleksis go. I want someone on hand who can translate for him."
"We would be willing to accompany him," she assured him. "Thank you."
What's going on? Gipsy asked.
We're going to help you. He patted her shoulder. Hold on, Gipsy. Soon you'll be back on your feet… I promise you that. I'll do everything I can to make sure of it.
You know, the Kaiju Cult isn't exactly the worst place in the world we could have ended up. A guy could get used to this.
The biggest down side so far to being newly inducted members of the Cult was the fact that, for whatever reason, the High Priestess had Newt and Hermann sharing a bedroom. That meant a nightly bickering session with the stuffy mathematician over something or other, but then, that wasn't exactly anything new. The room was about the size of the average Ranger's quarters back at the Shatterdome, but already a stripe of duct tape divided the room down the center, so Newt's share of the room was pretty cramped already.
But other than that, life with the Cult wasn't too bad. Sure, they were all early risers, and they expected him and Hermann to be present every morning and evening for prayers, but there wasn't any creepy ritual associated with the prayer sessions. It mostly amounted to going to a circular chamber with a blue-tiled floor and mosaics of various Kaiju on the walls, sitting in a ring on the floor, and reciting a few lines thanking the Deep Ones for the Messengers and vowing to cleanse themselves for the Day of Judgment. In a sense, it was just a meditation session with some spiritual mumbo-jumbo to memorize – and he'd gone through worse than that in Catholic school as a boy, to be honest.
His daily routine was nothing to complain about either. So long as they showed up for prayers and didn't vandalize anything he and Hermann had free reign of the temple, save the Priestess' quarters and the Inner Sanctum. Hermann spent most of his time in the temple's small library, while Newt explored as much of the place as he could get away with, admiring the architecture. It was blander than he'd expected, but he'd come across some exquisitely crafted statues, mosaics, and paintings of the Kaiju, and he'd spent hours sketching them in his notebook and identifying which ones were actual Kaiju and which were just flights of fancy on the part of the artist. So far the most impressive piece he'd come across was a steel-and-crystal chandelier hanging in one of the prayer rooms, crafted to look like a monstrous humanoid holding the leashes of five different Kaiju that each held a glowing light fixture in its jaws.
When he wasn't wandering the halls, he was usually tending to Spike in his quarters. The skin mite got a room all to himself – though "habitat" was probably a better term. Said habitat had a sloping floor that had been meticulously crafted to look like the hide of a Kaiju… though Newt suspected that it wasn't actually crafted and was actually carpeted in Kaiju skin. Misters strategically placed on the walls and ceiling frequently sprayed the entire area down with liquid ammonia, meaning Newt had to wear a mask and goggles whenever he paid Spike a visit. Fresh food was left out several times a day, and even better, Spike had company – at least five other skin mites crawled around the makeshift Kaiju flank, though Newt could pick out Spike by his smaller size and the mottling of white on his carapace.
Maybe he and Hermann weren't getting the star treatment Spike was, but as far as Newt was concerned, life was pretty good here. All he had to do was play along with the cultists' little act, and occasionally e-mail a report to the Shatterdome. He did miss the lab, and actually getting to perform studies on Kaiju samples instead of just looking reverently at whatever hunk of tooth or bone the cult had on hand… but for now, this was an agreeable vacation.
Today he had actually joined Hermann in the library, partly to see if it had any new Kaiju-themed works of art but mostly for a change of pace. After walking around and sketching the gargoyle-like Kaiju that supported some of the bookshelves and held reading lamps in their claws, he snagged a newspaper and flopped down in a chair across from Hermann.
"Good to see you're making some effort at pretending to be a normal person," Hermann remarked, not looking up from the weighty tome he was browsing.
"Look who's talking," Newt replied with a grin. "Whatcha reading?"
"It's by the man who founded the Kaiju cult. His rambling and half-incoherent dissertation on how the Kaiju are the harbringers of the apocalypse, and are to be revered as holy."
"So like the Kaiju Cult Bible."
"Except it isn't required reading. And given the amount of crock and bull in this, it's more like reading one of L. Ron Hubbard's books, I suppose."
"You actually read one of those? I just settled for the movie. It's terrible, but it's one of those things that's so terrible it's hilarious, you know?"
"You're an idiot." He glanced up. "Oh god, of everything here, you're going to read THAT?"
Newt looked up from the tabloid he was leafing through. "Hey, just because I read it doesn't mean I believe half of what it says. I'm smart enough to know they just write these to sell papers. And they're funny." He returned his attention to the article. "Besides, it's probably the sanest thing they've got to read here."
Hermann considered that. "Fine, you have a point there. I still think it's silly."
"Says the guy reading the Kaiju Bible."
"Oh, shut up."
Newt stuck his tongue out at Hermann over the paper and continued reading. Looked like they were running another article about that island in the Pacific that had founded its own Jaeger cult. Apparently they had scrounged Jaeger parts that had washed up on their shores and built their own shrine to the giant mecha, and had a high priest and everything. Rather far out, he thought, but then, if a Kaiju cult existed, he supposed a Jaeger cult could exist.
Wonder if Jaeger cultists and Kaiju cultists would fight if they knew the other existed. Like the Protestants and Catholics in Ireland, or the Jews and Muslims in the Middle East… oh hey, is that a picture of their shrine? I think that's a Conn Pod… there's too much stuff draped over it to identify it, though. Eh, it's probably Photoshopped anyhow…
"Newton Geizler? Herman Gottlieb?"
Newt glanced up from his paper to see a red-robed acolyte standing before them. He looked to be about fourteen years old, with his head shaved clean and a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the neck of his robe. Once he was sure he had both scientists' attention he bowed deeply, hands clasped before him.
"Your presence is requested by High Priestess Mikhail."
"What for?" asked Hermann, shutting his book with a defiant thump. "She's never requested us before. Not even for your weekly Sabbaths."
"They don't call 'em that," Newt corrected. "They're Vigils."
"Oh, for God's sake, don't tell me you've attended one!"
"A couple," Newt replied. "But only for research purposes! It's not too different from a Catholic communion or a Mormon sacrament, actually – they say a few prayers, then they pass around cups of this blue stuff that tastes like grape Kool-Aid… I was kind of leery about drinking it at first, actually, it kind of reminded me of the whole Jonestown cult thing, but I'm not dead yet, so…"
"You're an idiot."
"You keep saying that!"
"I say it because it's true!"
The acolyte waited patiently for them to finish, but when it became clear they weren't going to let up anytime soon he picked the thickest book he could find off the shelf, raised it over his head, and slammed it down on the table. Newt jumped in surprise, and both men turned to glare at the boy, who continued on unperturbed.
"You are to meet High Priestess Mikhail in the Inner Sanctum," he told them. "As soon as you're able, but preferably before the hour ends."
"Inner… Sanctum?" Newt gulped, excitement and apprehension warring inside him. The thought of getting to look at the one room he'd previously been forbidden from entering was undeniably enticing – who knew what kind of neat swag was in there! But at the same time, knowing Mikhail wanted them in there for a specific purpose was rather ominous.
"Why does she want us?" demanded Hermann. "She hasn't requested us before."
"That's not for me to know," the acolyte replied. "But she wants you there. And hurry. She doesn't like to be kept waiting." And he bowed again before hurrying out.
Newt and Hermann exchanged a long look, Newt fidgeting nervously and Hermann frowning in apprehension. It seemed Mikhail was going to ensure the two of them made good on their side of the bargain. They could only hope that it wouldn't cause them to play traitor against the Shatterdome… or humanity itself.