Two – Dentition
A tall building, all stone and glass, arched windows, and strange carvings. A plaque on the corner read The Holy Monastery of the Order of the Brotherhood, but most simply called it the Monastery. It was not the tallest building in Jamestown, or even the grandest, but it was at its heart, and everyone knew where it was. Everyone felt it.
To Silus it was home. He mounted the granite steps of the entranceway, passing fellow Brothers, Cardinals, Government officials, some he knew through Church business, others by reputation. A few nodded, but most had no time to spare for a junior Brother yet to make his mark on the Church. Silus didn't notice; his attention was fixed on the inscription above the large gilt doors, words he'd seen every day until they burned in his mind. Salus per Sanguinum.
From blood, salvation.
The atrium could be busy this time of day, bustling with visitors and Brothers alike. Silus maneuvered through the black forms of cassocks and business suits to a private lift, to be used only by Brothers. No one else seemed to be going up, and he was grateful for the moment of silence.
The lift climbed up steadily, smoothly, tiny glowing lights illuminating the numbers indicating the floors. Silus stopped at the fourth floor. A sign on the landing indicated he had reached the dormitories.
Silus remembered it well. He had lived here, as had every Brother born in the city, when he was a child. Private rooms for older Brothers, those in higher forms yet to make their Confirmation, were located on the other side of the wing.
The dormitory was a long room with high ceilings, paneled in dark wood with the patina of age and whitewashed upward to the vaulted ceilings. Narrow windows covered one side, illuminating the room with a curious glow that never quite reached the highest corners, even when the sun was brightest. Plain, iron beds lined two sides, facing one another, battered trunks at the foot of each which held the young Brothers' few worldly possessions. It was empty now, the sunlight illuminating clouds of drifting dust. Silus watched it through the open door.
It was a lonely room, and it struck Silus more than ever with its sadness, the plain white sheets covering the beds in identical rows. There was no decoration, little color, even the delicate patterns of wrought iron lacing the windows were obscured, mere pillars of bright light.
Worse than that, it was lifeless. In his day, not so long ago, it had been full of young Brothers, dozens of them. Playing, laughing, studying, filling it with well-regulated noise, disciplined and carefree. Even in those times Brothers had been becoming rarer. A hundred years ago the dormitories had covered the entire wing of the fourth floor; now there was only this room, and it was too large for the few Brothers they had. Only three beds were currently occupied, marked with a plain coverlet and flat pillow, while the rest were empty, sheets bare and turned under in stiff hospital corners.
A bell sounded somewhere close by and Silus picked up the gentle scampering of feet, pacing through the hall and towards the dormitory. Shortly later three boys appeared, just let out from class. Silus read the title of a book under one boy's arm: Politics of the Modern Age. He knew the Brother who'd written it. The three boys walked to their respective beds and put their books away in their trunks, replacing them with new ones and heading off to their next classes. They were quiet and orderly as few human children could be.
Silus didn't work in the teaching departments and he did not know very well any Brothers who did. He hadn't realized there were so few Brothers still in their training. These kinds of things tended to be kept quiet, but the fact that there were only three Brothers left in the dormitories disturbed Silus more than he expected. He lurked in the hallway as the young Brothers passed him by, nodding respectfully to an elder Brother. One was older; he would be leaving this dormitory for the other wing soon. A second young Brother grinned at Silus and scampered off in a different direction, theology books clasped in hand.
The youngest was a dark haired boy who stared at Silus solemnly. He was young enough that the Brother's curious aging process had not yet caught up with him—he looked like what his real age probably was. Seven, perhaps. The youngest Brother in Jamestown. Silus regarded him with eyes just as solemn and much darker, too old for his young face. This boy looked like him, reminded him in a particularly painful way of himself at seven. The dark haired boy nodded soberly and walked off.
Silus watched the retreating figure until he wasn't seeing it anymore, his mind somewhere else.
A woman and a young boy stood at a street corner. She clutched the boy's hand tightly and cast her eyes over the street, gauging where the traffic would go, guessing when it would be safe to cross. Her dark hair was coming out of its braid, spilling curls around her face. The boy looked up at his mother, watching the way the sunlight caught against her skin and seeming to make it glow. He squeezed her hand tightly as they crossed the street together.
"Mother, why must we leave our flat? I like it there," the boy asked.
"I know, Silus. It's not safe there anymore," she said, panting in the damp heat.
"But why?"
"People are asking too many questions. It's not safe there anymore," she repeated.
Silus didn't like it when she said things like that. Her voice sounded scared, and that frightened him terribly. More than when the man had come into their flat and shouted at his mother, pointing at him and saying things he didn't understand. After that they had to leave, and he still didn't understand why.
His mother pulled him along the dusty cobblestones. She carried a single suitcase that held all their possessions. Clothes, a little money, a few items of food. Silus had watched her pack it the night before.
"Will our new flat be nice?" he asked.
"I—don't know, Silus," she choked out. Silus could tell she was close to tears. He wanted to pull on her hand and make her look down at him and make her smile.
"Don't worry, Mother, the Church will take care of us," he said instead.
They stopped. "Where did you hear that?" she gasped. They stood on the sidewalk and she turned down to him, looking into his eyes with that same fear, but now there was anger there too.
"I saw it on the wall," Silus said, chin quivering. He didn't mean to make her mad. He pointed to an alley wall, bricks plastered with advertisements, posters, announcements, a crazy jumble of colors and words.
Now she was looking at him with tears in her eyes. That was even worse. She drew in a shaking breath and squinted her eyes, which meant she was about to cry. But she kept her lips firmly pressed together and pulled up her son's collar, the jacket too big and too heavy for summer. She always made him wear it outside.
"I'm sorry, Silus, I'm sorry," she said.
He looked at her, eyes too old.
She took his hand and gripped it harder than ever, and Silus felt safe there with her.
"Don't talk to anyone, Silus. We'll be all right, and they won't find us," she said.
It was a familiar mantra. He squeezed her hand and they walked through the hot sunlight.
That was a long time ago. Decades. She was gone now, and she existed only in his memories.
The dormitory wing seemed sadder than ever now and Silus wondered why he had come. Some strange desire to revisit his childhood haunted him, a ghost that wouldn't let go. Sometimes it felt like it wasn't his childhood at all, as if it had happened to a different person. Perhaps he was a different person. His two lives, the stolen childhood of those first seven years with his mother and the rest up till now, as a Brother, a greater being, were detached from each other. He'd forgotten it sometimes, how he was different from the others more than they could understand. But it came back to him now.
Silus left the dormitory, quickly and silently. He had come to the Monastery for a reason, but he did not feel he could fulfill it yet. Instead he made his way to the lift, unwanted on this unused floor. The gleaming silver doors reflected his somber face, framed above the black cassock he had worn for almost four decades.
The lift dinged softly as it reached the eighth floor. It was close to the top, an excellent view of the city in these parts. Further away the view was blocked by the towering skyscrapers that had popped up in the past decade, of course, but it still felt like a haven in the rooftops. The atmosphere on this floor was very different from the one four floors below. Here it was all thinly veiled chaos, Brothers both junior and senior bustling to and fro, speaking quietly in corners, delivering papers and objects even Silus couldn't identity. He was better known here. This was his floor. More particularly, the wing consisting of three rooms off the right-hand side of the second corridor was his.
A human secretary sat at the front desk, ready to enquire after unknown faces or direct a Brother looking for information. Silus was well known to her, however, and she gave him a reverent nod as he passed by on his way to his office.
The door was marked Department of Technologia, with small letters underneath denoting Jr. Br. Silus. The handle was well-worn brass, cold under his touch but with the warmth of familiarity. As his hand was on the knob, however, it began to turn from the inside. He paused and stepped back as it opened and a Brother appeared. It was Brother Augustus, a senior, distinguished and respected, his greater age apparent in his lined face, although it did not reveal his true years.
"Ah, Silus," he said, light coming to his eyes as he saw the younger Brother.
"Brother Augustus. Were you looking for me?" Silus asked.
"No, no, I just needed to see Brother Thaddeus about something. Nothing of importance."
They hesitated in the doorway. "I wonder if I might have a word with you," Silus said.
"Of course. Walk with me," Augustus said.
Silus fell into step beside him as they walked down the long hallway, the ceilings high above them gently echoing conversations from the far corners.
"I'd like to speak about Brother Edgar."
"Ah yes. Your brother." The word did not refer to titles.
"You know he is working in the Department of Sciences, I suppose."
"Yes, I had reason to stop by and see his work myself. He is making excellent advancements, particularly for one so young. Confirmed early, I believe? Yes, even earlier than you were. A great mind. Great talent."
Silus said nothing.
"He may be running the department in a few years time. It would be unprecedented." He stopped for a moment, looking over Silus. Was it pride in his eyes? Or disappointment?
"But I think you didn't want to talk about his accomplishments. Tell me."
Silus looked for the words. "You mentioned before how young he is…. Do you think it strange that he has already acquired a Mentor?"
"He showed great promise before his Confirmation, if I recall. A major research project already completed on blood diseases before his final year."
"Yes. He worked with Brother Clement on it."
Augustus's eyes darkened slightly.
"His Mentor." Silus said.
"It is not unusual for a novitiate to find a Mentor among the Brothers he has worked closely with. Especially one who showed as much potential as Edgar."
"Even a Brother as highly ranked as Brother Clement?"
Augustus turned sharply. "We are not in a position to question his judgments, Silus. He is one of the most senior Brothers, a member of Parliament and the Magisterium. He may choose his novitiates from any place he likes. They're getting harder to find these days, certainly."
They walked a few paces more, as Silus considered the dangerous ground he was treading.
His Mentor broke the silence abruptly. "I know what you have requested, Silus. You shouldn't be surprised; these things have a way of getting around, unorthodox as they are."
Silus stopped, waiting for censure. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this.
"The Committee has never allowed a Brother so young to take on a novitiate, and remarkable as your career has been, it has been short. Besides that, there is Brother Clement to consider. Do you truly believe the Committee will force a senior Brother to cease his mentorship in favor of an undistinguished junior?"
"I had hoped for a request."
"Don't be ridiculous, Silus. If Brother Clement singled Edgar out, he must have plans for him. He's seen promise in your brother, content yourself with that. Why would you wish to take him away from so respected a Brother, such an accomplished teacher?"
Silus said nothing, but Augustus seemed to know anyway.
"You have no reason not to trust him, Silus. He has done great things for the Church."
It was a position that could not be argued.
"I thought perhaps you might speak to the Committee," Silus tried one last time.
"You overestimate my powers. I am not so valued that I can sway the Committee, and in any case, even if I could, it is likely Brother Clement would overrule them."
"But the Committee has the final say in matters of mentorship." There was a hint of anger in Silus's voice.
"Silus, they will not go against Brother Clement. He is too highly positioned, and when he wants something, he has the power to get it."
"Yes, power seems to be the only thing they understand." He turned away, his face a hard mask.
"Watch what you are saying, Silus. Brother Clement is not a man you want to cross," Augustus said sharply. "And the Brotherhood does not take kindly to denigration of its respected bodies. You must think of your brother, and the opportunities this holds for him."
"I am thinking of him."
The older Brother sighed. "I knew you would be difficult when I chose to be your Mentor. If you hadn't shown such ability in politics I never would have." His Mentor gripped his shoulders, a gesture that always made Silus feel young. "Trust the Brotherhood, Silus."
Silus saw his sharp eyes, reproving, but also persuading. He broke the gaze. "I do, Brother Augustus. I know the Brotherhood will do what is right."
Augustus looked at him peculiarly, as if wondering what was going on inside his head. "We are only servants of the Brotherhood, Silus. You should know that by now." His tone made it clear that the conversation was over.
"Yes. Thank you, Brother Augustus," Silus said.
"You can always come to me for help, Silus."
Silus nodded, and did not look away until Augustus was gone.
A/N: Edgar is in the next chapter, I promise.