“It’s not hard,” he’d told Mae. “You find what means the most to someone and run with it.”
That had come after an interview with a Lakota castal who’d initially been hostile to Justin. Upon noting the man had four children—a rarity among the fertility-challenged castes—Justin had shifted the discussion toward them, playing on the man’s obvious pride. The man had been heavily marked by Cain, with asthma and skin lesions, but he’d lucked out with his deceased wife. She’d been extraordinarily beautiful and healthy, with no problems conceiving. By the time Justin was finished with him, they were practically best friends, and Justin knew all about the kids’ soccer and dance lessons. The family had no connection to a religion, and Justin also determined that the man was telling the truth about not being involved with his wife’s murder. Justin had similar results with other castal interviewees and their claims of innocence.
After three of the crime scenes, he told her they were putting the other two on hold until Leo could come along with them. The people they talked to weren’t giving them any leads; they needed to examine the technical side for new evidence. Although Leo had made no progress on the video, Justin was certain his friend could figure out how the victims’ surveillance had been disabled. Leo couldn’t join them right away, meaning it was time to start checking out suspect religious groups, something Mae had been looking forward to.
They left Vancouver for an overnight trip to the Midwest, to visit a group whose goddess had connections to the moon and silver. Before they went to that church, however, Justin made a side trip to another sect in the same town.
“Favor to Cornelia,” he explained when their hired car dropped them off. “Right around the corner from our church. It’s just a standard license renewal—should be a breeze. They’re a pretty small and benign group. Still, you’ll get to see that this job isn’t all glamour and stone-wielding mobs.”
They stood outside of a small but pretty building that had all sorts of flourishes. Arched stained glass windows. Gold-painted trim around the windows and doors. Lacy wooden embellishment along the gables. An ornate sign above the door read TEMPLE OF THE LADY OF THE BOOK, MADISON BLUFF, TWENTY-FIRST WARD.
Justin came to a stop on the sidewalk leading up to it and gave the building a once-over. “Well maintained,” he said with a frown. “Much better than their last inspection. Good maintenance means money. Money means support.”
The door opened as they approached, and a middle-aged plebeian man with thinning hair stepped outside. He looked nervous but gave them a polite smile. “Welcome. I’m Claude Diaz, the priest of Our Lady here. You must be Dr. March?”
“Yes.” Justin introduced Mae and then waved his ego over the license beside the door. The square’s screen displayed the RUNA’s seal in green, along with a date and scrawled signature below it. When the ego passed over the screen, a holographic image of the seal appeared in the air, verifying the temple’s license.
Claude urged them inside. “Please come in. I’m so eager for you to see our sacred space and answer any questions you might have.”
Mae hadn’t been in very many places of worship. She’d been to Church of Humanity services, of course, but those didn’t count. Every once in a while, someone in the Nordic caste would try to bring back a Scandinavian religion. Those that didn’t fail right away usually only lingered on with scant numbers. Mae’s mother had once taken her to a temple when visiting a friend in the Pan-Celt land grant, and Mae remembered it being a terrifying experience for her six-year-old self. The chanting priests had worn hoods and masks, and images of their fearsome goddess had seemed to look at Mae from every part of the room. She didn’t remember the cult’s name but hoped it had been shut down by now.
Between that memory and what she’d seen of provincial religious practices, Mae was content to stay away from all of it and completely supported the RUNA’s stance against religion. People who got caught up in the groupthink of these superstitions were easy to lead into dangerous behaviors, as the Decline had shown. The only thing Mae put her faith in was her country.