The candles burn much more consistently now that the windows have been closed. You continue through a door on the other side, which similarly leads to a hall leading up the other side of the chapel part way. At the end there is a door on the right--toward the interior of the church. A small brass plate reads "Confessional". It swings open easily, but there's a latch on the inside. There is also a door, with a latch, leading beyond it into the chapel proper, but there are no windows in that direction.
The room is large enough to contain a chair and to move around it, but not large enough easily to accommodate more than one person. To either side there is a tightly woven mesh over an opening, so that sound and air can pass through easily but it is not so easy to see through; this is the more difficult given the darkness, as these windows open onto small rooms with single benches, which themselves have small swinging doors into the chapel which when closed provide full privacy to those within.
There is no sign that anything is out of place.
--M. J. Young
"Well, we've secured the door, and abandoned my charge for about ten minutes straight." I pull the plasma, charge it, walk over to the window, open it and fire up at the sky. Then I close it. "So, if their is a fast way to get into the chapel from here, I would love to hear about it. I don't relish another walk through the corridors of windy fun."
Again, the plasma cannon heats up the corridor significantly.
"What is that thing, anyway?" Father Casey asks.
In response to your question, "We can pass through the confessional booth here; it has doors to both sides, and doesn't lock. It's not really appropriate to use it as a hallway, but I don't think the Lord will mind, under the circumstances."
Things still look normal in the main room, although there is a bit of a sense of pressure, as if something were trying to get in. Eric is still praying, or whatever it is you call that.
--M. J. Young
"This?" I lift the cannon. "It's a plasma ejector. I've never used one before today, but it is one uncomfortable weapon to used for extended periods. On the other hand, it works, and better than anything I've ever encountered. I wonder when El Raging Demon is going to figure out he's not getting in here."
My mind continues rolling in the face of the presence. The demonic forces don't bother me right now. It's occurred to me to wonder how on earth this monestary's inhabitants are relatively unaffected by the apocalypse. Or the next closest thing to it. I mean, it depopulated a city, and don't tell me country living makes you THAT tough. They'd have losses, and we'd have noticed.
On the other hand, I'm not in the habit of looking a gift horse in the mouth, and at worse, we're being set up for a double cross. Unlikely, but possible. So that leaves possible number two: our goals coincide for the moment, and we may be in serious trouble when dawn comes.
Acceptable. I'll just keep an eye on my monkish ally here. If he double-crosses me, I've already lost, but at least it won't surprise me TOO much.
"Well, back to waiting again. I hate night shifts. Boring and long." I slump down in a pew.
The devastation in the city is more evident because of the degree to which things are packed together. In places the streets are buckled, suggesting that the buildings shifted toward each other in the blast; in other spots, water mains, gas lines, and other underground hazards have cracked. Here there is a lot less to break. Someone cleaned up in here, certainly, and there is damage to the buildings, but the damage is not compounded by so many solid structures so close together. If the ground is broken up a bit here and there, and a few trees have fallen, this is not as severe a situation as chunks of skyscrapers plummeting to the asphalt below. There is evidence of the explosion out here, but having more space allowed the blast to dissipate significantly.
Also, you've been isolated; you don't know how many monks are in what condition medically, only that they maintained their hospitality in the midst of the tragedy. The few who are more hardy than the rest may be handling all the essential care and duties, and not complaining to you about the added burden or your presence. After all, it is said that you might be able to make a difference to the world, and they're willing to give you that chance.
You wait, somewhere between boredom and tension, as the last hour ticks past.
There is then a bright light coming from Eric's position; it radiates outward, engulfing you, the room, the building. It is palpably filled with goodness and wholesomeness. Then before you can say or do anything it is gone.
Eric collapses on the dais.
Father Casey and Greg Haus run over to him. It is evident that they are somewhat improved in their conditions, although not fully healed.
"Are you all right?" the younger man (Haus) says.
"Yeah," comes the weak response. "But I need to get some rest. Probably you do, too."
There is a pause before he continues.
"How is everyone? I was hoping for more from that, but evil is apparently working hard to crush this world, and it may be more than I can fix with the tools I have."
--M. J. Young
"It's enough for now." I tell him. "Get some rest. You are one man, whatever your abilities, and you are no good to anyone if you burn yourself out."
Meanwhile, I'm going outside. I've had enough of being cooped up in one place. I keep the plasma ejector on me, and warm it up before going outside. I'm going to fire one more shot into the sky for good measure, but this time I'll be outside when I fire. I'm also waiting for something definate, and if I don't see anything distinctly demonic, I'll just shoot it into the sky as a victory shot.
The morning air is cool and sweet. The monks come out of the lower building, singing in procession toward what appears to be an open-air theatre with a simple cross and some crude wooden benches. Even those you've seen before look better, and there are quite a few you've not seen before.
You fire your victory shot.
Father Casey comes up behind you.
"You must be exhausted," he says. "I'm sure the brothers can give you a place to sleep for a few hours.
"So, now that you and your friend have healed the world a little, what will you do next?"
--M. J. Young
I'm too exhausted to care if this is just another part of an eleborate setup, or if they are part of some secret order to preserve the sanctity of the world. The small stuff doesn't matter. What matters is that I could use a few z's. Not that I couldn't remain up, but why push that hard if I don't have too?
"I'll take you up on that offer, thank you. And as for the next step, I haven't got a clue. I'm just making this up as I go."
A few of the monks come over and help the four of you down to the living quarters. Beds are found, fresh linen and clean blankets put on them, and in short order you are all tucked in.
The next thing you know, Tadeusz is standing over you. "Well, I'll admit I had hoped that would go better, but the world is a better place. The spin doctors are out there already saying that original estimates of the injuries were grossly overstated, and that many people who were thought to be dying were not so badly hurt as believed. In a world like this, that's probably to be expected. At least the brothers here recognize that we've done a good thing. They're not the ones destroying the world, but I guess that means they're on our side.
"In any case, they've invited us to dinner. You up for it? Father Casey and Greg are already washing up."
--M. J. Young
I'm willing to believe just about anything at this point, so I don't argue. "Sure, I could use a bite."
I do, however, carry my weaponry. I always want to be ready at a moment's notice from here on in.
The others are waiting as you and Tadeusz enter the dining hall, all standing by the tables. Two places have been saved for you at a table at one end of the hall, along with Father Casey, Greg, and a few of the leaders of the monastery. As you reach your seat, one of them says, "Let us pray", and proceeds to lead a somewhat formulaic but no less sincere grace.
The meal is heavy with meat. One of the brothers explains that the disaster killed a great deal of livestock, so meat prices have fallen sharply as dealers attempt to get good meat processed before it spoils. At the same time, prices on produce have risen sharply because of increased difficulties with delivery. So this is a considerably more meaty meal than that to which they are accustomed.
Father Casey again asks what you plan to do from here. Tadeusz raises his eyebrows.
"Well, to this point I've been calling the shots, pretty much, and some of my calls have been good but some have been particularly bad. I'm going to take a step back and let Ed decide what we should do--put myself at his disposal, as it were. I'm looking at a world that was an ecological disaster which led to a second disaster and then another disaster caused by my efforts to contain that one. I've not been all that able to put things right, but maybe it's because I'm not the one God sent to fix things, but the one God sent to help someone else fix things.
"Sometimes I'm the one God sends--but I'm not generally subtle. I've been called the Hammer of God in more than one world. I'm not particularly good at delicate work."
--M. J. Young
I just give a half-smile. "My own talent for subtlety is...limited. I can do social situations and probably sell an eskimo a refrigerator if I had enough time and incentive to do so. Still, I suppose in this conspiracy laden world I might be able to come up with something."
"One thing I won't do, however, is 'reveal the truth.' As far as I'm concerned, that's only a problem if the government is doing something that is contrary to the goal of protecting the citizens. No, I don't encourage rebellion, so don't ask me to."
"I will, however, find out what moron unleashed Gojira in the first place and insure he, or she, gets nailed to the wall. And if the law won't do it I will. The catastophe that has resulted from that is simply uncondonable, and he," I point to Tadeusz, "is actually one up on me in one significant regard. He actually did something while this was going on. The fact it didn't work doesn't matter."
"Don't sell yourself short. You're the one who brought down Godzilla, you know.
"If we're going to find out about Godzilla, we're going to have investigate fast. We probably could have gotten information from the other versers, as they were here when it started and we seem to have arrived in the middle of it. From what I can gather, the government has a very powerful ministry of misinformation working overtime, and just about anything that might prove the beast actually walked the earth is going to be erased or destroyed--maybe already has been done, although we can hope that the chaos created has hampered the efficiency of the system.
"Where should we start?"
--M. J. Young
"Hmm..." An admittedly annoying habit of mine, but on that always initiates any serious thought on my part. I pause inwards for a few moments, trying to get to that magic spark of logic which will help me think this problem through.
"We could start at the point where he bite the dust. They've only had one day to clean it up, and they are bound to have left something there I can use as a clue. For example, the trucking companies that will have to be employed to haul those body parts off. They have a cover ID, and I'm going to find it."
"Sounds good to me," Tad says. "We'll have to find some gas somewhere, but we can drive back tonight and be there before midnight, I expect. Anything you need to do here before we go?"
--M. J. Young
"Not that I know of, aside from the pews I have to set back in order." I turn to Father Casey. "So, I unwreck your sanctum, and other than that, we're all cool, right?"
I'm ready to go, but I want to make sure I'm leaving no loose ends in my wake. Loose ends are a pet peeve of mine.
"The brothers are already seeing to tidying the chapel. They say it is a small part for them to play in this great miracle God has wrought," Father Casey says.
"I had hoped for a greater miracle," Tadeusz injects. "That should have made the world whole."
"Perhaps it is the Lord's will that the world suffer for what has been done--a wake up call to the world for its sin."
Tadeusz shrugs, and Father Casey continues.
"Besides, each has his own place, like parts of a body. They are quite capable of caring for their chapel while you save the world. I am pleased to have become part of it."
It takes a bit longer to leave than merely finishing dinner, however; the brothers insist on sending some food with Father Casey to help alleviate the suffering in the city, and it takes time to pack this into your commandeered vehicle. However, you are soon on the road.
It is not long after midnight that you pull into the street where the body of Godzilla still lies. There are a handful of people standing near it, mostly wearing black. As you approach they scatter, and you perceive that they are young, dressed and made up in the traditions of goth culture.
--M. J. Young
Guess I don't look dysfunctional enough. Still, I remind myself that yes, I have to deal with this crowd for information. This is a different world, and maybe these self-important nihilists are valuable informants.
And the first step to talking to them will be to knock that caustic sarcasm of mine down a notch or two, or I'm going to be the one going nowhere fast. Besides, this is passive disdain. Maybe they will prove to be of a non-stereotypical nature, and I will actually learn something.
I attempt the direct approach, always a good opener. I walk up to the closest one, and hope the individual in question decides not to run from me.
You corner one.
"We wasn't doin' nothin," he says. "You can't arrest us for lookin' at somethin' lyin' in the street, can you?"
He does not look certain that what he said is correct.
Tadeusz is staying with the vehicle.
--M. J. Young