Chapter 2
The six preachers of the Sacred Church of the Divine Emperor convened at 07:15 terrestrial hours as they did every morning. Including Thomas there five others devoted to maintaining the "Sacred Church of Divine Emperor" and its holdings. Peter, Samuel, Jango, Ricardo, and Moses. Moses was the eldest, the most important, and therefore the rightful leader. His thick grey beard formed a halo around his wrinkled and wizened face, and complimented his shining bald head. Though he technically shared the same rank as the others, his experience and reputation were without question. Sitting next with him with a scarred face and dusky skin was the once space pirate Brother Ricardo. The sinewy holy man often seemed too rough and handsome for the monastic life. Moses had nursed him back to health after an unspoken of incident, and he forsook his past on the spot. His faith had never wavered since. Samuel and Peter were as devout and dedicated as one could ask, if unexceptional. Their flaws being the quite literal interpretations of their translations, and the orthodoxy of their beliefs. Thomas had spent many hours debating theology with them and found them well read and learned, but poor debaters. They were too intolerable of differences of opinion to discuss the deeper issues of theological difference.
Jango was the son of the mayor of Grettelute,`a minor noble connected to a leading house on the planet. His father was strict and just, and had attempted to instill the same values into Jango. But Jango was all too aware of the power he wielded over commoners, and had led a life exemplary of the corruption found in noble houses. This had led to a number of shameful incidents which eventually provoked punishment. As penance for his (caught) depravity and debauchery, Jango was inducted into the priesthood to avoid penal punishment. He made for a poor fit and was the constant ire of Moses, as the power he wielded was second only to his. Their characters were vastly opposite, and while Moses was the model of a saint, Jango was only satisfied as a a condemner. If he wasn't damning the poor workers of Isipros, he was squeezing their pockets of contributions, or in rare instances, practically falling over himself to lord over the executions of the Mutant, the Heretic, and the Xenos.
As Moses extinguished the candles which held vigil over the night, the others chanted harmonious prayers to their emperor facing the rising sun. They pleaded for the endeavours of their flock to be successful and for all to remain virtuous in the eyes of the God Emperor. As soon as the spiritual work ended, the worldly work began. They set about preparing for morning mass, as soon the pews would be full of the faithful asking that they toil not in waste and find happiness in the Emperor's work. Aisles were swept and wax scratched from the floor. Pews were washed and the stained glass windows wiped of grim and dust. Scenes of worship and salvation grew luminous and bathed the room in rich and gorgeous colours was the sun rose, clashing with the modern electric lights which illuminated the rest of the room.
Like everyday before and likely after, the five and ever slacking Jango showed their piousness and humility with janitorial upkeep duties. They did so before cleaning themselves, as to show they put themselves second to spirituality. It was also pragmatic, as the muggy sub-tropical heat that granted the planet such fertility left them sweaty and grimy after their work. The point of the task was to suffer as much as clean, Thomas decided, why else would it be that only after the work was done did they turn on the air conditioning system? As the Preacher signed his name in the Libra Laboris to record his completion of the first of his daily duties, cool air rushed through the building with a quiet whirring, answering his summons. The workers were well used to its mediterranean climate. Instead it made their mandatory daily prayers more memorable and pleasurable, a few moments in heaven against the purgatorial drudgery of their lives.
Most of them were farmers and their families who had no other access to temperature controlled environments. They built their houses out of heat-resistant materials and cooled themselves with fans. The luckiest could afford EverIce modules which radiated cold in reverse of a heater.. The Adeptus Administratum members who collected and transported tithes preferred to remain separate from them. Most members came from the noble families of the planet as outside of the clergy or military service, they were the only positions that kept out the fields. They wandered about the administrative districts in pristine brightly colored robes robes carrying small fashionable personal cooling devices. The devices spun in hypnotic patterns, both circulating the air around them and serving as a parasol. They wrinkled their noses as they past the working class, usually making some off handed comment about the stink of sweat or the fields as they hurried on their way.
After the daily cleansing and purification of mind, body, and possessions came the morning sermon. The chapel increasingly filled with ambient murmuring of worshipers in the background as they trickled in. When all was settled, Moses entered to lead the procession to the music of the Electro-Choir as he always did. The others played the remaining parts but Moses would always lead unless otherwise indisposed. Then two of the Preachers would give sermons. One of hope, one of damnation. After these were completed, two more would act out the holy rituals of the day. Amongst this, the errant brother tasked with ringing the bell to announce the service would appear. He would begin to shuffle among the pews in quiet prayer, offering them the collection box. In whispered piety he reminded them that the faithful support the church. That the war was as material as it was spiritual and could not be fought on god will alone. The Emperor survived by his throne in more way that one, Thomas had often thought. Today our chosen brother was delivering a sermon on damnation.
The Preachers designated to the days sermons would be commissioned the day before, and would spend the previous night writing and researching their sermon from holy scripture and lore. Of the many mundane tasks given to him, this was one of the few places that Thomas' wit and cunning found expression. With a touch of flamboyance and a great deal of rhetoric, he spun fantastical stories that enraptured the audience. He always seemed to know the right verse or passage to match the event. So it was today, as he found release by muddling his previous work with the dream of last night, capturing the crowd in a rhythmic lull before bring it crashing down on their consciences. As soon as he found their attention peaked, he damned them, and in quiet himself for being so fascinated with the allusions and incredible nature of his sermon. For these were the faces of evil and heresy, not the pure images and virtuous faces of good. They brought sin and debauchery, so that men lost all sense of just and logic, and women were overcome with lust and wrath.
He called upon the visions of St. Anthony, who had described the resplendent and hallowed visions of his many prophetic dreams. He berated them for not using it as a standard by which to judge their own dreams, and suggested they meditate upon the purity of their thoughts and dreams. That only by devotion and prayer to the Emperor, especially just before rest, could they prevent such blasphemy from entering their minds. A tinge of guilt tickled his stomach as he told those who still felt shame to confess their sins and offer services or donations to the church as penance. Exploitive techniques bothered him, and when he had first come to the Parish he had tried to leave such matters to the conscience of his followers. But a quiet and firm lecture from Moses behind closed doors had reminded him of the financial nature of their fight and the suspicions the church had of those who do not accept that.
His work done, Thomas retreated into the background to assist Brother Peter and Brother Samuel in their ornate prayers and rituals. All he had to do now was to echo certain parts of the prayer, and five years of practice had rendered the entire routine automatic. Earnest and god fearing, the people of Isipros were easy prey for such techniques, and his shame was tempered with a degree of pride as several hands competed to donate first. Turning to the statue of the Emperor upon the Altar, he apologized for his methods but asked the Emperor understand the reasoning, as they attempted to follow he turned back towards the masses, he found them filtering out of the room. Jango stepped forward with the contribution box, his brutish yet refined features alight as he grinned and jostled the thrones loudly. "Brother Thomas. As always, your sermon has advanced our cause and dispelled some of the blighted ignorance that grips our flock." Thomas gave a polite and pleasant smile as he grimaced behind his mask, Jango's compliments making him feel even more like a thief. "Thank you, Brother Jango. I live to serve the Emperor and his cause. Benedicat Nos Deus Hominis" came his calm if emotionless reply. Jango continued to leer at him greedily before turning his attention back to the box of thrones. As he walked away to deal with the book keeping, his assigned job, he let the coins jostle loudly as if the sound were as pleasant as the holy verse.
Moses finished with his short pronouncements to the congregation, and as they hurried out of the Church to reach the buses and trucks to the fields on time, the head Preacher turned to his followers. "Brothers. Your service to the Emperor is as devout as any men I have known, and I could not ask for more hallowed company. Benedicat Nos Deus Hominis."
Moses addressed Brothers Simon and Peter first, his stately continence held high. "Brothers. I require you to aid in the rites of Osmonde Greywheat. He lies on his deathbed unable to join us, yet his soul must be assured guidance to the Emperor." Moses turned to the remaining two priests, Brother Thomas and Brother Ricardo. "Brothers. You shall assume field rites today." Jango was exempt from such hard work due to his blood, and Moses had grown too old and regal for the jobs. Instead Field Rites and other outside duties were divided between the four able bodied Brothers. It consisted of all the basic priestly footwork. The Preachers would wander about the fields to counsel those who need it, blessing fields and equipment, and keep a watchful eye on the flock for signs of Heresy or Mutation.
Brother Moses gave a quiet blessing to Ricardo and Thomas before entering into quiet council with Brother Peter and Brother Simon. Brother Ricardo offered a placating smile to Brother Thomas. "At least we don't ever have to worry about being shot at." He rubbed a scar playfully and Brother Thomas offered him a well earned smile. Of all those in the group, Thomas felt that Ricardo was the one he was closest too. The rough and tumble pirate turned Preacher respected Thomas' knowledge. And Thomas found his worldliness and vitality enviable. While they both has presence, Thomas was of a more holy and ascetic aura. Ricardo radiated an air of compassion and strength which put all those around him at ease and safety.
"I wouldn't be so sure Brother Ricardo. Do you remember the Heretic Clavis?" Clavis had been a middle aged man and one of the few heretics to be charged recently. He had built a ten barreled stub gun mounted on a cart covered with Grox skulls and attempted to wage war on the church. Ricardo laughed this time at the bitter sweet memory, and patting the frailer priest on the shoulder, preparing for a day in the hot sun. They both savored the time they had left in the crisp atmosphere of the air conditioned Church. The Preachers bedrooms were across from each other, each in the middle. Thomas resided in the middle room on the left side, and pushed the familiar wood door open, the surface worn where he always opened it.
Each priest had been issued a Type 2 Cool Device by the Ecclesiarchy in order to aid in their duties along with a pair of heavy leather work boots for the terrain. Their upkeep and cleanliness were among the duties of the Priests, and each had to be kept spotless. A heat resistant plastic pole was attached to a flat disc containing a fan at the bottom. The disc both blocked the sunlight and held a large fan attached to an Ever Ice Module. This parasol like device kept the owner moderately cool at all times, and was the same design used by Adeptus Administratum. These were coupled with a set of thermostatic water bottles to keep hydrated with. While it wasn't perfect, Thomas could not help but acknowledge he was several steps ahead of the workers. Many of the older families had developed abhuman resistance in the sun to cope and were born a dark tanned brown, while others had migrated from similar circumstance or were just tough enough to bare the heat out. Thomas' parchment white skin was a testament to the relative luxury he lived in, as was everyone but Ricardo. Which is probably why he got along so well with the farmers.
With a quiet, longing look towards his hidden treasures, he closed the door behind him. Tonight it would be the 169 sacred numbers. A book of numerological magic, it told of formula by which one could divine the nature of things by specific numbers and dates. While he didn't know if it was true, he was quite keen to find out. But that would have to wait till later. With the quiet click of a locking door, the Preacher set out to meet Ricardo at the front of the church and begin the days Field Rites.