“The only thing salvageable from the satellite was another smartphone. I was of course wary of it at first, but it has helped me. It has helped all of us. It taught me many things, which we have since verified. You see, this angel was trapped in the phone—trapped by those feckless peoples that ravaged the land. It knows we are here to preserve the natural world. It understands the need to remain connected to sun, soil and seed.”
“How do you know this?”
“I know this because every day she tells us more about how to use the deer carcass. She tells us where to forage for the best berries. She tells us how to shield our best soils to avoid erosion. She has also helped me understand there are things that we need not fear. She has exposed flaws in some of our beliefs. Weapons that use gunpowder for example—there is nothing wrong with them. They don’t destroy the earth any more than bows and arrows.”
Nobura was trying to digest Luna’s words, but he was still distracted by his surroundings. He managed to pull his glance away from its captivating allure. “But how did she make this?” he asked, gesturing at the village and mountain in the distance.
“Oh, we had to get some Old World tech she requested—projectors, batteries, generators, computers. It’s all here, in this room, or built into the adjoining rooms, and nothing that affects the outside world.”
“Here she comes now,” Luna said, looking down the path from them, a mischievous smirk on her face. Following Luna’s gaze, Nobura could see a woman wearing a Kimono emblazoned with the Essentialist symbol of the blossoming cherry tree. She placed a jug of water by the doorstep of a dojo and began walking up to them.
“I was curious what form she would take for you,” Luna said.
When the woman arrived next to Nobura, she knelt to the ground and did a deep bow. Her face was like porcelain and her lips a cherry red. Her hair was done up with elaborate lavender hairpins, and her gown flowed over her curves like water down a river.
She looked down as she spoke. “Hello Nobura, I am honored to meet you. Shall I refer to you as captain or general?”
Nobura hesitated, looking to Luna. She raised her eyebrows and said, “go ahead.”
The woman before him was so unassuming, so pure. She was possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. How could something so pure have bad intentions? And it sounded like she was giving Luna some good sense. They might have finally overcome the aversion to the use of guns, something the Prefectorate had been advocating for some time.
“General, you can call me general,” Nobura said, straightening his back.
The girl was still looking down at his feet. “I am glad you have accepted your new title. From what I have heard, you have the courage and honor we need to lead our people to their rightful place as the proper stewards of the land.”
“Thank you,” Nobura said, looking to Luna, discomfited by speaking to something so sublime. “And what should I call you?”
“The Old World gave me the name Gail, but that does not reflect what I am here to do. My true name is Cerezo, Spanish for cherry tree. I am here to help you take the Essentialist people out of winter and into spring.”
Nobura nodded and looked to Luna, who was smiling with satisfaction.
“Curator, this mirage has unsettled me somewhat. Will you excuse me while I meditate for a moment? I wish to find balance,” Nobura said.
“Of course,” Luna said, waving at him. “I understand you Shinogi must do what you do.” Luna turned away to enjoy the view.
Nobura shut himself off from the display, closing his eyes and crossing his legs. He took seven breaths, letting each one flow through him, letting them expel his shock at the scene, his ambitions for power, and his arousal at the beautiful girl. Then he rewound the last several minutes in his mind, dissecting the nuances mechanically, analyzing the motivations of Luna and this smartphone angel, all the while keeping his base human urges suppressed.
By the seventh breath, he felt in balance. Clarity of thought had returned, and it gave him the confidence to set his mind straight.
The display had been captivating, and Luna’s arguments convincing, but Nobura was no fool. Nobura was Shinogi. He would not let his emotions rule him like this curator did. Water that could not be drunk was not water. Dirt you could not touch with your hands was not dirt. A woman born of an Old World phone was not a woman at all, no matter what she called herself.
So he would play along with Luna’s game, but he was resolved to not succumb to the desires of this Old World enchantress.
And perhaps this witch would expose the weakness they were looking for in this wily curator. Perhaps, along with his new promotion, this would give the Prefectorate the elusive key to controlling the eastern lands they had sought for so long.
AN UNFRIENDLY GATHERING
“Pardon me. We must get to the stage. We are Seeville lords, if you will let us through, please.” Madison continued her chorus of requests as Benjamin and Duncan leaned into the crowd ahead of her. Slowly they made their way through, leaving a number of annoyed looks in their wake.
It didn’t feel like a friendly gathering. Packs of Adherents, mules, railroad workers and farmers staked out territory in the crowd. People were aggressively jockeying for position. Many weren’t afraid to voice their displeasure.
“We want answers!” a woman called out.
A robed man held a sign saying Novation is Damnation!
Many were also gawking and pointing upward at their new celestial neighbor. The craft had materialized above them that morning. To be able to see it in the light of day meant it must be immense and in close orbit. Its shape, like a big hammer, was fitting. A blunt instrument summoned by Gail to crush them all.
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry, I’m a lord,” Madison said. “I have to get to the stage. I’m going to be speaking. Thank you.”
As they continued to part the crowd, the pavilion roof began casting a shadow over them. They could have tried to get to the stage through the back entrance, but Madison was sure Bartz would have stopped them. If Bartz wanted her at the town hall meeting, he would have invited her.
Meeker, Bartz and the other lords were walking up onto the stage from the back entrance. Meeker was holding a bullhorn to his lips. “People of Seeville,” he said, “please stay calm. We are here to answer your questions. If you can all settle down, we can begin the meeting.”
His words only elicited more noise from the crowd. Bartz took the horn from Meeker and made calming gestures with his hands. “People, please,” he said. His tone had a hint of aggression. The noise did subside somewhat. Bartz had more gravitas than any other lord and it showed. When the crowd was sufficiently subdued, he passed the horn back over to Meeker.
Madison finally reached the front of the crowd, but a barricade had been erected, and Meeker’s enforcers stood behind it, blocking the way to the stage.
“Excuse me. We need to get to the stage. We’re Seeville lords.” Her voice was elevated, but they ignored her. She opened the barricade gate and made to proceed inside. This got their attention. One of the enforcers held her back with a stiff hand. “No, ma’am, you can’t come on the stage.”
“Yes, I damn well can,” she said, pushing forward against his hand.
Duncan tried to prop her up from behind. He raised his voice for those around him to hear. “We’re Seeville lords, and we’re being denied access to the stage!”
Another enforcer joined the first to hold them back. In a tense back and forth, Madison lost her balance and fell painfully on her side. Benjamin quickly lifted her up.