“People started listening to her. Followers doubled, and doubled, and doubled again. Temples sprung up everywhere, infusing many of the forlorn places of worship from the Old World with new hope. Her followers became so devout and loyal that they were said to adhere to Okafor like oil on a chain, lubricating her words and freeing her into motion. And from that time on her followers became known as Adherents.”
“They didn’t stop there. In the next year, Adherents would patrol through the city, branding shops, bunkers and mills with the word ‘novation’ when they did not respect the Credo, when they showed outward signs of disrespecting the three fears. There was much conflict, and some resistance, but the followers doubled and doubled again. Eventually even the cynics and pundits joined Okafor. For in the spirit of cooperation, she had never cast them out—she had never shunned those who stuck to Old World vices. She knew that, in time, they would return her embrace.”
“But even then, after more than a decade of effort, with most of the city as devout Adherents, Okafor would not rest on her laurels. She still wasn’t satisfied. And as a practical matter, she couldn’t force everyone to wear clothes stitched with words from the Credo, as she did.”
There was another smattering of laugher.
“No, she wanted to create something lasting that would protect the people of Seeville forever. So on her tenth year, Okafor and her followers unveiled the beholder statues on Montalto and Mount Lewis, what we know affectionately today as Monty and Louie. These giant monuments were powerful symbols, watching over the people of Seeville, forever looming on the conscience of would-be peddlers of novation.”
“Since that time, retcher attacks have been virtually eliminated. Tribal allegiances have long since fallen away in the face of everyone’s aligned faith. Most importantly, the fears have been respected, and the Credo observed. For those of us who begin to question, for those weak of will, all we have to do is look to the nearest mountain and find our strength in Okafor’s legacy.”
“Novation is damnation,” the crowd murmured back as he concluded the tale.
“Novation is damnation,” he confirmed, closing his eyes briefly.
“Now, I know this is the short version, but we will have to leave it at that for today. We have some new people who have joined us, and I would like to have an opportunity to welcome them, to answer their questions. Perhaps those of you who are new, if you could come to the front? Thank you. Thank you all for coming, and stay warm.”
The congregation began to stand, don jackets and scarves, and file out the doors into the cold. The three new recruits in front hovered for a moment, and then made their way up to him. Alastair noticed that the two new faces sitting in the back pews fell in step with the majority, leaving through the main doors. He doubted they would ever return.
Alastair took the hands of the three newcomers heartily. “Hamia,” said the first, introducing herself. She was a shorter girl with caramel-colored skin. “Barnes,” said the second. He was a wiry looking youth with flushed skin. “Venter,” said the third, a more robust man with prominent veins in his forearm. Fiery red hair stood tall on his scalp.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Alastair said. “I hope you found the sermon stimulating.”
The three looked at each other. The girl named Hamia spoke first. “I have a question, sir… I mean Lord Henneson.”
“By all means, and there is no need to use my formal title here,” Alastair smiled. “Adherent temples are informal places. You can call me Alastair.”
“Okay. Well, I guess I don’t understand how the Adherent faith is so different from what the SLS… Essentialists believe. I mean, isn’t our fear about being obsessed with gadgets and devices similar to their fear about building things that harm nature?”
It was true there were some similarities, but only superficially. More importantly, Essentialists were the enemy. They smelled like feces. It was dangerous to allow any comparison go unchallenged.
“Not at all.” Alastair shook his head. “There is a world of difference. Essentialists believe people are no better than animals. Essentialists would choose a base existence, wallowing in filth like a pig. We strive for meaning, for a more civilized existence. We travel by bike and railroad, and are connected with peoples a thousand miles to the north and south of us. In other words, Essentialists do not believe in any form of progress, only feral hedonism. We believe in prudent progress, so we can make our lives better, as long as we don’t fall prey to obsession, competition, or recklessness.”
“But what about the new projects the railroad is undertaking?” Hamia asked. “They seem to be building new bunkers. They would only use bunkers if they were working with electricity, right? Then there is all the work underway at the stadium and old observatory. How is that not obsession, or even novation, by your definition?”
“Well, in truth, much of this is new to me, and under investigation,” Alastair admitted. “As both an Adherent and lord of Seeville, I wish to find out more about these projects, before I pass judgment. But the railroad, like the mules, has always been a great center of progress for us. I’m sure they are taking adequate precautions.”
Alastair was indeed concerned about these new developments, but it would do no good to badmouth the railroad or take an alarmist view here. The railroad was one of the biggest employers in Seeville. Speaking ill of it was a surefire way to turn people away from joining the Adherents.
Hamia couldn’t contain a bitter look. She nodded slowly and said, “Thank you, Lord Henneson.” She turned and walked away.
He briefly considered asking if she would come to the next sermon, but decided she was likely a lost cause.
The ones named Barnes and Venter remained. Barnes looked at Venter, who looked down. Then Barnes said, “Lord Henneson. I mean… Alastair. I’ve heard Adherent sermons before. My mother was an Adherent. She used to tell me the stories, and a few of them didn’t make sense to me. I wanted to ask about the beholders, specifically. Louie—the Lewis Mountain Beholder. Why is it painted all those colors?”
“Good question. There was a time, several decades ago, when some of us lost our way. Some rejected the beholders, believed them to be something they were not, and they desecrated the Lewis Mountain Beholder. But history is long and full of ups and downs. These vandals have been proven wrong, and what they believed has been forgotten.”
Alastair hoped Barnes didn’t ask any more specific questions about that time. The desecration of the Lewis Mountain Beholder was when people began looking elsewhere for inspiration. To speak more of it now would only highlight how much the Adherents had fallen.
Barnes frowned. “But still, the beholders… I don’t know. I just can’t imagine anyone building something that big. Mister… Alastair, I’m a new mule. Me and Venter, we decided to come here together, you see. I’ve been on runs to the bike towers, as well as down to Raleigh. Down there I heard from a mule I respect and trust that there’s another big statue that looks just like the beholders, far up north near Syracuse. How is that possible?”
Alastair held his chin, making sure to show Barnes he was giving the question due consideration. “I was once a mule as well, Barnes. I know how it is on the road. You need to be careful to parse truth from myth. The road can be a lonely place, and it fuels the imagination. One mule wants to impress another. I wouldn’t be surprised if some other statue does exist, perhaps with some resemblance to the beholders. I’ve heard similar tales. Maybe it’s some legacy of the Old World. Or maybe some bandits are trying to copy our model of prosperity. More likely, however, there’s no statue at all, and it’s just another fanciful story told to pass the time, when mules have lighter loads.”