Over breakfast, Sata and Kibi agreed on a plan. They would look for the object of their mission in teams of two or three. Kibi would improve her language skills as quickly as possible, then she or Sata would be with each team. Knowing there was at least one telepathic person nearby, possibly more, Mati and Rini would split up.
The entire crew would meet in the cafeteria mid-morning and mid-afternoon, when few other people were around, then back at the ship, where they could speak more freely, in the evening.
“How will we know if Arantiloria likes what we’re doing?” Boro asked, glancing around.
Kibi smiled. “I think we can trust her to jump down our throats if she doesn’t like something. As long as we don’t see her, we’re not screwing up too badly.”
Rini
laughed.
Sata and Mati smiled.
Shawn remembered his first glimpse inside the Lyceum Temple for the rest of his life. As he stepped in, the vast interior opened out to his left and right, and the main walkway completely encircled the interior, connecting with three other entrances. The ceiling rose to dizzying heights, where he could see at least two balconies and many hanging banners. Rows and rows of seats, quickly filling with people, extended above and even behind him.
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Finally he noticed that more seats, already full of people, dropped down to a large circular floor below.
An usher led the evaluation group to a section of reserved seats.
The service was simply entitled Fruits, and the drama began with the humble work of the farmer harvesting the produce of the soil, giving it to his family and selling it to other people, who enjoyed its goodness in homes and restaurants. The choir sang country tunes, and a narrator read passages from folk literature.
Shawn soon realized that the theme had changed, as he watched scientists, researchers, and diplomats pulling new ideas and new devices from their flasks, books, and computers. Dancers looked on with dramatic curiosity.
Slowly, the story moved to yet another level, as the farmer, the scientist, and the diplomat, joined by ministers and monks from several different faiths, knelt at little shrines that the dancers brought out, some containing an elaborate statue and altar, others as simple as a small piece of rug. They prayed or chanted fervently, and an air of excitement filled the Temple.
Suddenly the lighting changed, and the faces and clothing of the actors became radiant. The choir began a lively, happy tune, and an abstract holographic image formed in the air and began to move upward, an image in which each viewer saw something a little different.
The dancers returned, bringing baskets of fruit and tasty vegetables up the aisles to all the rows of people — plums, cherries, and strawberries, sweet peppers, little carrots, and mild radishes. The evaluation group members, along with many other first-time visitors to Lyceum, were surprised by the bounty. They were used to religious services in which baskets were passed for a different purpose.
When the service ended, many people left for a late breakfast, but some lingered, pondering what they had seen, listening to the choir, watching the dancers, or talking softly among themselves.
Fruits of the soil, fruits of the mind, fruits of the spirit, Shawn thought.
Sorry, Dad, but the Devil would have a hard time busting into this place.
At lunch in the cafeteria, the youngest three from the evaluation group took a table that would hold four. Liberty glanced at the empty seat, then
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stood up and looked around. Her eyes quickly found the young man from a foreign country who was just emerging from the cafeteria line. She strode in his direction.
“You’re young and cool. Join us?”
Ilika nodded and followed the tall, black-haired girl.
“Has
anyone ever seen anything so inspiring?” Shawn asked with excitement.
Between bites, Ashley shared that her church did things like that all the time.
Shawn lost some of his excitement.
Liberty admitted she’d never really been in a church before.
Shawn’s face fell a little further.
Ilika’s eyes darted from person to person, quickly taking in each one’s temperament and cultural background as quickly as he could. “You must be used to . . . churches that don’t do . . . dramatic plays, Shawn.”
The younger lad shrugged. “Yeah. My church . . . I mean my dad’s church
. . . was pretty . . . um . . . boring.”
With prompting by both Liberty and Ilika, the conversation turned to other subjects, but Shawn rolled over and over in his mind the sights, sounds, and words of the religious service he had just witnessed as he nibbled on his roast chicken, cheese, and tomato sandwich.
“How many of you have a concept of god?” a Lyceum member, Sister Maria, asked as the evaluation group began their afternoon session.
Shawn, Ashley, Ilika, and Dario raised their hands.
“How many of you are convinced of the correctness of your concept of god?”
Only Shawn’s hand remained in the air, but it quickly fell when he noticed he was alone.
“One of the fundamental purposes of Lyceum is to run an all-faith religious services center. Notice that I did not say run a religion. The two are very different. The members of Lyceum are here to create, maintain, and operate this place, a place where any religion can come. There is no Lyceum Religion. There never will be.”
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Shawn released his breath after holding it a little too long.
“One of our deepest fears is of people with different beliefs and assumptions about life. Being a different religion, even a different sect, often means very different beliefs. So in our civilization, we keep our religions separate, and when we must come together in the workplace or the grocery store, we avoid religious topics.”
Ashley listened closely, occasionally nodding.
“The visitors to Lyceum can easily avoid religions and cultures with which they are not comfortable, and our public worship services, like the one you saw this morning, are designed to be very general and all-inclusive.”
Sister Maria looked into the faces of the candidates before going on.
“Members do not have that luxury. Among us, just about every possible religion is represented, and we must sit at table, work, and play together.”
She looked around the room at the discomfort she saw in some of the faces. “If you are not convinced of the essential validity of every single person’s religious experience, for them . . . then you would have a hard time being a member of Lyceum.”
Shawn struggled for several minutes to swallow the lump in his dry throat.
Ilika noticed Ashley’s easy acceptance and Shawn’s discomfort. But he also noticed that Liberty appeared to be thinking deeply about something she had never thought about before. And he noticed that she was, quite often, looking at him.
That evening was free time for the evaluation group, so Ashley spent an hour in the gym, then went to find Liberty in the swimming pool.
“Hi,” she said as the tall girl finished a lap. “Want to spend some time?”
“Sure! You must have been doing gymnastics . . .”
Ashley glanced down at her old practice leotard. “Yeah. Just enough to loosen up.”
“Teach me some if we become members?”
“Sure. But you have to teach me how to swim!”
“Deal!”
After Liberty toweled dry at her locker, the two girls wandered out into the warm evening air and the orange glow of a sunset not long past.
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“So . . .” Liberty began as they strolled along winding paths in a flower garden, “. . . quiz me. What should I have gotten from today?”
“Okay . . . what do you do if someone’s a different religion than you? (A) convert them, (B) call the cops, or (C) kill them.”
Liberty burst out laughing. “You and me aren’t the ones who’ll have trouble with that. Did you see Shawn sweating?”
“Yeah! His church must be one of those that thinks it knows everything.
But I have a hunch he’s about to let go of that.”
Liberty looked thoughtful as they came to a sign that said Cemetery, and without hesitation, walked on in. “Next question?”
“You like that foreign guy, don’t you?”
“I think so. He’s sweet . . . and mysterious. About twenty-four, I think.
So, what is the deal with religions, anyway? Why do people go to church?”
Ashley thought about the question as they wandered along the lighted walkways among the headstones. “You know how everyone has things they can’t figure out by themselves?”
“Yeah . . .”
“When I go to church, all those big, confusing questions just seem to go away. I’m part of something bigger, and there’s a purpose to it all, even though I don’t understand it yet. See what I mean?”
Liberty thought about it as they gazed up at a large, fancy grave marker.
“You mean . . . there might be some kind of good reason my mom left my dad when I was three?”
“Yeah. But . . . your mom may not even know it.”
Liberty was silent for another minute. “Okay. I can buy that. But what does religion have to do with it?”
Ashley stopped dead in her tracks. “That’s what religion is! Religion is people trying to figure out all those things they can’t figure out any other way!”
Liberty pondered the idea in silence.
“There!” Ashley said, pointing at a gravestone near a walkway light.
Liberty looked at it. “Eight years old.”
“Why did she die?” Ashley asked.
Liberty sat down on the edge of the path in front of the grave. “I don’t
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know. Car accident maybe?”
Ashley sat down beside her, then looked up at the star-studded sky. “I have a ten-year-old friend who’s dying of cancer and is writing a symphony.
She says the stars teach her to play.”
Liberty took a slow breath. “I’m . . . sorry.”
“No need,” Ashley said, looking back down at the headstone. “She’s the happiest person I know.”
Liberty was silent for a long time, but eventually her face lit up with an idea. “How’s this sound? Lyceum does both science and religion, right? Both are looking for the truth, but science is looking for the part we can see . . . or, you know, measure somehow . . . and religion is looking for the part we can’t see.”
Ashley looked at Liberty and smiled.
Eventually the two girls said good-bye to the eight-year-old and wandered back to the recreation center. They could have talked for hours more, but they also knew that the next meeting of the evaluation group was at three o’clock the following morning.
Ilika and Kibi met that evening, far from the gardens and buildings.
Hoods up against the cool air, they found a little grove of trees and settled onto a fallen log. Once bracelet lights were off, no one but the wild creatures could see them.
“Missed you!” Ilika assured before pulling her close and kissing her deeply.
“Mmmm . . .” Kibi breathed when they finally parted. “That was almost worth the wait. Almost.”
Ilika chuckled. “How are the others?”
“Sata’s growing into her new role, and I’m letting her, even though I’m getting pretty good at the language. The rest have learned a couple of hundred words, enough to get by. Boro likes the pool and the physics labs.
Mati and Rini discovered another person they can talk to, you know, mentally.”
“That’ll be good for them, as there are others on the star station, but they haven’t noticed yet. There are seven other people in my evaluation group, and the three younger than me have let me into their social group. All three are
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strong and deep — they wouldn’t have gotten this far in the process otherwise.
One has a father who, in the lad’s opinion, would like to rule the world . . .”
Kibi
snickered.
“Another has a father who’s something important, but she hasn’t told us much yet. I can tell she’s worried about him.”
“Any sign of the . . . you know . . . the mission?”
“No, not yet. You?”
“I’m . . . not really sure how to look for it.”
“You can trust the universe to lead you to it. This is a Nebador mission, and we will always have all the help we need. Follow the clues, no matter how subtle, or even how silly, they might seem.”
Kibi nodded and snuggled close to Ilika.
Two squirrels, an owl, and a deer all took good looks at the pair of dark silhouettes seated on the old log. None of them sensed any danger.