Letting out a sigh, he dropped his forehead against the glass, watching his world pass by outside. The news had been covering the widening class divide a lot lately. That must be how this Ingénue knew there was a problem. No longer were priests all encouraging the same path. Many of them interpreted the first precept differently. In the Good Book, it only said, "Respect life as God made it," and that left a lot of room for interpretation.
God made man, and man had designed enhancements. God had also created man to be born un-enhanced, so these "upgrades" weren't whatHe'dmade, yet He'd made the brains that designed them. The subject had become a hot-button topic lately, debated in the pews, the offices, and the streets. No one could agree, and with the Legion divided, there wasn't even a consistent message to bind them back together. What most didn't know was that factions had begun forming inside the church too. A split was growing.
But how could this Ingénue know about it? The history, sure. The rest was nothing more than a gut feeling Sin got every time he walked into the church. And yet, she seemed so very sure of herself. She knew the Praetor had a question. She'd come to the conclusion it was the only logical reason Sin would've been assigned to her. Then again, she also didn't know all the facts.
That was what made him finally ask, "What's the less likely solution, Ingénue?"
In the reflection on the glass, he saw her flinch, almost like he'd woken her up. "That the Praetor didn't choose this assignment for you."
He nodded, feeling a small amount of tension relax in his gut. "Well, he did. I got the orders from the old man himself."
Her head lifted just a bit, a gesture that would have been almost condescending in anyone else. But for her, it somehow came across as nothing more than timid determination. "Then he has a question. The pattern of Praetor Benedict's actions makes it clear those are the only choices."
He turned to face her. "Explain."
Her eyes closed in a long blink, but her chin never dropped. "In the variance of human desires, it would be plausible for him to assign you as a means to gain control of the Ingénue Project with a slow and deliberate infiltration of OutLink Corp. If the Legion had access to dozens of minds enhanced like my own, removing the democratically elected government and replacing it with a theocracy would be simple. As would shifting our current oligarchy to an even more fascist and profitable economy."
"But you don't think that's it," he clarified, making it clear he was keeping up.
The girl shook her head. It was subtle, but still there. Then her eyes dropped to her hands in her lap and her shoulders relaxed beneath that blue robe. From the way her veil moved, she was doing something with her mouth, but he couldn't tell if that was licking her lips or trying to find the right words.
Then, "In every documented correspondence, Praetor Benedict has shown himself to be a caring and generous man." Her eyes jumped up to meet his. "Even his private communications are phrased with compassion. For him to have hidden any hint of the narcissism necessary to engage in the last option would be an impressive change of character and opens up additional considerations."
"Such as?"
She didn't even hesitate. "Blackmail, chemical alterations of his mental state, or the presence of an even larger problem thathas been somehow kept secret." Then she blinked. "Is that what you need to know, Legate?"
What Sin needed was a goddamned smoke. She was all but accusing the church of corruption! It might be subtly phrased and delivered as an offer to help, but that was, in effect, exactly what she was doing—and it pissed him off. He shouldn't let the pampered princess upset him like this, but she'd hit a nerve. A really fucking big one.
Because she might even be right.
Still, he'd vowed to protect her. When he'd received the assignment, he'd sworn to God to watch over her until the Lord released him from service. He hadn't exactly been doing a good job so far. Instead, he'd hauled her around like a sack of potatoes and snapped at her the one time the girl dared to even speak to him. In return, she'd offered her help. Her fuckinghelpfor a problem she shouldn't even know he was worried about!
He turned back to apologize, but she refused to meet his eyes. Maybe he should just get this over with and go home. Get his mind back on track and try to make it up to her next time. So what if she annoyed the piss out of him? She was his angel. He owed it to God to get this right.
All of it.
Chapter Six
That evening, Sin walked through the large open doors of his church, ignoring the priests moving along the sides of the massive room. Without slowing his steps, he made his way to the massive gold statue at the back of the room. Two large, sculpted wings emerged from the lashes of a closed eye. The last rays of the day trickled through the high windows, making it appear as if it glowed from within.
He'd always loved this time of day in the cathedral. It seemed so holy, and so quiet, making him feel as if he could almost hear God whispering in his mind. When he reached the first step, Sin knelt and bowed his head, two fingers pressing gently between his eyebrows.
"May I serve only the power of God, and do Your will as only You can see best." It was the standard prayer for any priest returning to the Legion.
"Amen," a warm voice said behind him. Benedict moved to his side, resting an aged but firm hand on his shoulder. "You, my son, have little reason to fear straying from His path. Welcome home."
"It's good to be home, Father," Sin said, taking the Praetor's hand and pressing the ornate ring to his lips before rising. "How have you been?"
Benedict smiled and gestured for Sin to follow him. "Well, by the grace of God. Has your time with the Ingénue Project worn at your faith already?"
"No, but it's only been one day," Sin assured him. "The girl I was assigned to is respectful enough." He shrugged. "That is, if you consider a robot's silence to be respectful."
Benedict said nothing until they were out of the cathedral and heading toward the dormitories in the back. When the sound of their feet stopped echoing and became little more than a soft thud, the Praetor casually said, "You know, the loss of humanity is one of God's greatest concerns."
Sin gestured to his own cybernetic eye. "He's not the only one, Praetor. It plagues me every time I use it." Which was true, but also not that simple.
Benedict kept walking, leading him into a small private office where he gestured for Sin to take a plush velvet chair, lowering his elegantly robed body into the one beside it. This was what the leader of the Legion called a home. It was opulent, but it also served as a meeting place for dignitaries and government officials, so it had to be. More importantly, though, it was completely private.
