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Chapter Forty-One: Worship
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A couple of Wednesdays had passed since Taberah had first asked to worship with the Phoenix Society; something had come up, and Taberah had not been aware that time had passed. This time around, Fiona was free, and they entered the room to be warmly greeted.
The service began with hugs and lively music. Taberah was caught up in the singing; Nathella wondered if one of the moments Taberah described would descend. Or had she always had them and not been aware of them? The music gave way to prayer, Scripture, sermon; as communion came, Fiona could see that Taberah was almost in a trance, but she was not. The worship was followed by a meal; Taberah felt a tap on his shoulder, and wondered why someone would tap his shoulder. He looked up.
The young woman who had spoken up at the skeptics' meeting studied his face closely and said, "You were at that meeting and left right after the paper burned weirdly. What did you do?"
Taberah looked at her and said, "Nothing. I prayed. Same as you. God heard our prayer."
She said, "That's not the whole story."
Taberah said, "It's as much of the story as you'll believe."
She said, "What part of the story won't I believe?"
"That I am medieval."
"You mean that you try to be like a medieval, even growing out a beard?"
"No, I mean that I am medieval."
The student's gaze rested on Taberah. After a while, she said, "I don't know what to make of the claim. You're not lying, you don't seem mistaken, and I can't believe what you say." She paused, and said, "And I didn't believe the paper when I saw it. I prayed for it, but I didn't believe it." Then she blushed slightly, and said, "I've forgotten my manners. My name is Ceinwyn. What is your name?" She reached out her arms to embrace him.
Taberah enjoyed the hug; she was soft, and in her touch he could feel a spirit that was alive. He said, "My name is Taberah. I'm staying with Aed."
"Who? Is he a student here?"
Fiona said, "He means Dr. Kinsella."
Ceinwyn said, "Dr. Kinsella. You mean --" A look of dread crossed her face, and Fiona said, "Yes, he's teaching this young man his corrupt ways." Ceinwyn smiled, and said, "I have respect for anybody who can do that."
Taberah said, "Do what?"
Fiona said, "You know. What you did to win the Turing Award."
Fiona covered her mouth; as soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she shouldn't have said them. Half the room was staring, and the other half soon joined. Then she said, "Um, I would like if you could kind of forget what I said; my Dad's done a lot to try to ensure the privacy of my friend."
A young man said, "He won the Turing Award?"
Another man stood up and said, "I have a strong temptation to ask this brother for his autograph, and I would like to ask you to join me in resisting it. We need to treat him as an honored guest but nothing special beyond that, and treat his award as a matter among brothers. It has to have the highest level of confidence."
Ceinwyn looked at Taberah and said, "I am sorely tempted to ask you something more about the paper, but..." her voice trailed off.
Fiona said, "I think he may be right about being medieval. Or almost right. But there are some things about him that just don't fit. He makes my head spin, and he says the queerest things."
Another student said, "Like what?"
"Like saying that he stole a relic from a cathedral."
The student said, "Hmm... I'm a history major as well as an English major, and medieval culture was very different from ours. My name's Tala, by the way. Stealing relics was actually fairly common. Taberah, did you hear about the conversation between Saint Peter and Saint Augustine?"
Taberah said, "No, what did they say?"
Fiona said, "And that's the other thing. He gets the queerest things wrong. It's not just that he doesn't understand why people who lived in different centuries can't have talked with each other. He didn't understand why a cathedral couldn't have had two heads of John the Baptist, one as a boy and one as a man. He saw the logical contradiction, but didn't deduce an impossibility. Plus, he's so short and scrawny -- not at all like the bulk you'd expect of someone from the age of knights in shining armor."
Tala said, "I don't want to explain all of why, at least not right now, but a medieval would be quite likely to make those errors. And medievals were that short and scrawny -- their diets stunted their growth. It's only in the past couple of centuries that people started to look as tall as you are me -- and (I won't name names) some people today still haven't caught up." He winked.
A short, bearded student said, "I'll have you know that I represent that remark."
Fiona said, "Ooh!" and then, "Diet. He talked as if he had grown up eating mostly bread, bread with pebbles in it."
Tala said, "I think he's about as good of a mockup of a medieval as you could ask for. How and why, I don't know -- there've been a lot of queer things that have happened, most of which have an uninteresting explanation. Even with what I've seen, it would take a lot to convince me that he had -- Taberah, if you are a medieval, why are you in the twenty-first century?"
Taberah said, "What is the twenty-first century?"
Tala said, "Never mind that. How did you come to be here?"
Taberah said, "I was walking with two of my friends, when an angel called me. I took his hand, and I was in the forest outside Aed's house. Then --" and he started telling the story. It was after midnight when he finished; Ceinwyn said, "Taberah, I have many questions to ask you, but some of us need to get to bed. Would you consider visiting us again?"
Taberah said, "Certainly."
That night, as Tala lay in bed, waiting to fall asleep, strange images flitted through his mind. He saw a doorway between the medieval world and his, shimmering, the door beginning to open. A burst of light flashed around; Tala looked around and saw no one, and then looked to the doorway.
The door had been blasted off its hinges.
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Chapter Forty-One: Worship
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