Timebound (27 page)

Two songs and a moment of silent meditation later, Conwell began his sermon. It was fairly short and very similar to the Cyrist messages that I had read online, with a strong emphasis on self-improvement and at least half a dozen very explicit references to tithing in the half hour or so that he spoke. Conwell had a charismatic aura that was much more apparent in person than in the snippets I had watched online, and I found myself smiling at a few of his anecdotes, despite my predisposition to dislike him.

The responsive reading, however, was really creepy. I had read the Cyrist Creed online and it was printed on the inside back cover of my handy pocket copy of the
Book of Cyrus.
While it seemed a bit out there, it wasn’t that different from stuff I’d read from other religions that believe they have a lock on divine wisdom and a reserved seat in the VIP section of the hereafter. There was just something about having the words chanted aloud by several hundred people that made them more… tangible, I guess.

The lights dimmed as Brother Cyrus moved to one side, and the backdrop lit up to reveal a group of individuals and families of various races and ages whose faces beamed as they exclaimed, “We choose The Way, so we are the Blessed,” with those words floating across the bottom of the screen. The pictures shifted to a large offering plate overflowing with gold coins, which struck me as oddly similar to a leprechaun’s pot of gold, and the caption changed to “As we give to Cyrus, so shall we prosper.”

The same group of faces, now a bit more serious, declared, “We choose The Way, so we may be Chosen,” just before the video slowly morphed into an apocalyptic background, with dead, blackened trees stark against a red sky—and the voices continued: “As humans have failed to protect the Planet, the Planet shall protect itself.”

The screen then flashed back to the group of Cyrists, whose expressions ranged from determined to angry. “We choose The Way, so we are Defenders. Enemies of The Way will face our Wrath and Judgment.” And then the last line of the Creed, “We choose The Way, so we may be Saved,” showed the group with triumphant faces, standing before a lush and verdant garden—the earth restored, a virtual Garden of Eden. Trey was apparently unnerved as well, because his hand sought out mine for a brief squeeze before the lights came back up.

The service concluded with announcements—the quarterly executive meeting in the annex following the service, two upcoming weddings, and a retirement party—as young men at each end of the aisle passed the collection plate. That was another thing that I probably should have anticipated, but it wouldn’t have really mattered since my very last dollar had vanished with my backpack on the Metro. I gave the guy on my left an apologetic smile as he handed me the collection plate and then passed it along to Trey. He put a rather generous donation on top of the stack of bills, checks, and envelopes, and was duly rewarded by the beaming approval of
Charlayne and Eve, who were already whispering to him about the youth meeting after the service.

I toyed with the idea of following Conwell, who was almost certainly headed toward the executive meeting that he had announced, but I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. A copy of the
Book of Prophecy
would be nice, but based on everything I had read online, the temple leaders didn’t just leave those lying around. Tidbits were doled out to members and initiates; few had seen the actual book.

I suspected that there would be some interesting financial tips handed out at the executive meeting, but we stood zero chance of getting into that little soiree, especially if Patterson was attending. It looked like I would have to make do with what we could tease out of the Acolytes.

Trey and I followed Charlayne and her friends out of the auditorium, with Charlayne practically glued to Trey’s side. I stopped off at the first ladies’ room. Eve and one of the other female Acolytes did the same. I wasn’t sure if they were following me or just needed to pee, since they entered the first two stalls inside the door and went straight to business. I entered the stall at the opposite end and took my time, hoping they would leave without me. They didn’t, and there was a look of impatience on Eve’s face as I stopped by the sink to wash up.

She turned to the other girl and said, “I hope there will still be some decent pizza by the time we get there.” I smiled politely and followed the two of them out the door and down a long corridor, to a large and cheery sign welcoming us to the Youth Center.

The inside appeared to be a combination gym and recreation room, with several smaller rooms arranged along the outer walls for classes or meetings. Trey was seated at a long picnic-style table with Charlayne and the rest of the group that had sat near us during the sermon, and I saw that he’d not only saved me a seat but had also snagged me a slice of pizza and a diet soda.

I slid onto the bench. “Thanks.” Eve and my other companion from the restroom gave a loud sniff, almost in perfect unison, and headed over to the collection of pizza boxes at the end of the table to see what remained.

“No problem at all, cuz,” Trey said. I gave him a look suggesting that he was overdoing it a bit, and he flashed me a quick grin before turning back to Charlayne. “So I’ve read most of the
Book of Cyrus,
and it’s really interesting and all, but I don’t think it really gives me an idea of what Cyrists do. What you believe. My mom says that you don’t accept everyone for membership—that not everyone is eligible to be Chosen. Is that true?”

Charlayne looked a little uncomfortable. “Well, yes and no. Anyone at all can attend our services—I mean, you’re here today, right? And you could attend the Acolyte meetings and you could become a church member. Then, over time, we would know if you were Chosen. Not everyone is Chosen. You’d have to go through several years of classes, and you would find out whether you could open your mind to The Way. And you’d have to commit to our rules—they’re pretty strict on some things—and then…” She shrugged.

“So is everyone here Chosen?” I asked.

“Oh no,” she said. “We’re still Acolytes. We aren’t independent yet. Most of us are still in school and even after… there’s no guarantee you’ll be Chosen.”

“But the Creed—‘We choose The Way so we may be Chosen’—all of you repeated it in the service?”

“Yes.” She nodded, with a patient smile. “‘We choose The Way so we
may
be Chosen.’ ‘We choose The Way so we
may
be Saved.’ We aren’t assured that Cyrus will protect us, but those who choose The Way
may
be among those who will find mercy at The End. Those who are Chosen
may
be saved. Those who never listen, who ignore the warnings in the
Book of Cyrus,
have no chance at all.”

I thought that it seemed like a pretty weak promise compared to other religions I had studied, but I nodded and returned her smile.

Trey took another bite of his pizza and then asked, “So how would you know? I mean, what tells you that someone is Chosen?”

“It varies for each individual. Most people are identified by their gifts—by the degree to which God blesses them once they begin to follow The Way. That’s how my parents became Chosen. The members of the board and Brother Conwell examined their ledgers before they joined and compared it to their ledgers afterward, and decided that God had shown them favor.”

Eve, who was now seated across from Trey, picked a piece of sausage off her pizza and gave me a sideways look. “But there are some who are identified by their talents—who can do miracles, who can prophesy. Sometimes they are Chosen very young. Brother Conwell, for example, was Chosen when he was thirteen. His daughter was even younger when she first read from the
Book of Prophecy.
They were predestined to be Chosen, so their names are written in the
Book
itself.”

“I’m still a bit confused. Exactly what it is that Cyrus promises to save the Chosen
from
?” Trey asked. “From hell?”

The dark-haired boy next to Eve, who had been one of those arguing about sports before the service, laughed. “Cyrists don’t believe in an afterlife. Your rewards are in this life. Cyrus can save the Chosen from The End. The world is going to end, you know—and pretty soon, based on the prophecies we’ve been given. The Chosen will live on, when everyone else dies. They will be the future.”

That gave me a bit of a shudder and it must have shown in my expression, because Eve gave the boy a long, hard look. “Really, Jared. Is this a conversation we should be having at lunch? With visitors?” She turned back to me with a reassuring smile. “All of
this would be covered in eschatology classes—the leaders know a lot more about The End than
Jared
does, believe me.”

“The thing that I like to focus on,” Charlayne said to Trey, “is that The Way gives us the tools for a happy and successful life here and now. And contrary to popular opinion, Cyrists
do
know how to have a good time. We’re planning a trip to Six Flags next weekend if you’re interested.”

“That’s a good idea, Charlayne,” Eve said. “Why don’t you give Trey the info about the trip? Get his email so that we can contact him. And Kelly, if you’ll come back to the office with me, I can get the two of you a couple of membership kits that will answer a lot of your other questions. Our Acolyte meeting needs to start in a few minutes and that is, unfortunately, for Acolytes only, so…”

Charlayne gave Eve an annoyed pout. I wasn’t sure whether she was irritated that Trey was going to have to leave or simply didn’t like being ordered around, but she reached over and stacked our empty plates onto her own without comment. Trey joined her, gathering the soda cans to take to the recycling bin, while I stood to follow Eve.

I had assumed that she was taking me to one of the small rooms along the perimeter of the gym, but she headed toward the exit at the far side. I glanced back at Trey a bit nervously but followed her. We took a left into a hallway that looked to be nearly the length of a football field, lined on both sides with office doors and the occasional framed piece of artwork. I could see glass double doors opening to a side street at the end, just below a lighted Exit sign.

It looked like the street we had crossed when we were coming in from the parking garage—and I thought that Eve might be heading out to one of the smaller buildings I had seen. We had only walked a few feet down the corridor, however, when she pulled a small access badge out of her handbag and waved it in front of a reader next to a glass door on the right. The door beeped softly
and she pushed it open, leading me into a second, more dimly lit hallway.

“We’re nearly there,” she said brightly. “Normally, we keep a few membership kits in the Youth Center, but…” She trailed off as we approached the last door on the left, which she again opened with her access badge, and then switched on the overhead light.

The room was a luxuriously furnished library, with shelves along three walls. The fourth wall was glass, with a stone fireplace in the center of the panels. The chairs in front of the fireplace looked out on a meticulously manicured garden enclave, enclosed by the white walls of the surrounding buildings. Two massive, well-muscled Dobermans were taking a leisurely drink from a smaller version of the white fountain that Trey and I had seen in the atrium of the temple.

Eve closed the door behind us and leaned against the edge of the large desk in front of one set of bookshelves. Another, much less ostentatious desk sat to the right and she nodded toward the small office chair in front of it. “You might as well sit, Kate. We may have a bit of a wait.”

It took a second for the fact that she had said Kate, not Kelly, to register with me. “I’m sure Charlayne will keep your
cousin
entertained,” she continued. “The silly girl was so flattered when I asked her to sit with me in services this morning. What I don’t understand is why her name is even
in
your file. She clearly doesn’t remember you at all.”

I took a deep breath as she was chattering and began considering my options.

Option one—take her out while it was still just me against her. Eve was thin and had almost no muscle. I was pretty sure I could have her down quickly, especially if I caught her off guard. She was a good ten pounds lighter than me and I doubted she had martial arts training. The downside was that Trey and I would then have to
make a fast run for the exit, and I had no idea which of the other Acolytes she had alerted.

Option two—pull the medallion out and hope I could get a lock on the location back home in the kitchen. Given that Conwell was strolling around with a CHRONOS key on his chest, I was reasonably sure that this was a stable point. That would be the best bet for getting me out of the building, but I wasn’t willing to risk the chance that they might hurt Trey.

Option three—jump back to the kitchen five minutes early, convince myself that this trip was a very bad idea, and go back to bed. I could send Trey a text and cancel—his dad and Estella would be disappointed, but that was a small price to pay if it kept him safe. As tempting as this seemed, I kept thinking of Katherine’s caution about the mental effects of reconciling even a few minutes of conflicting reality. Could I really handle five hours of dueling memories? And what about everyone else—would Trey and all of the other people I’d encountered have the same problem? I had to admit that I didn’t know enough to risk it.

The first option seemed best, but I wanted to get a bit of info from Eve before making my move. I was curious—who were we waiting for and what had tipped her off about my identity? The self-satisfied smile on her face as she sat there on the desk suggested that she actually
might
be stupid enough to want to brag about how very smart she’d been to put all the pieces together.

I pulled the office chair toward me, then turned it around and straddled it, rolling slightly toward her perch on the desk and leaning my arms against the padded backrest. She wrinkled her nose at my unladylike position while I calculated how effective the chair would be as a weapon if I stood and brought the heavy base up hard and fast beneath her chin.