and he was sure it didn’t say those things. Where was the part about peace and deliverance? Without turning his head, Taemon shifted his gaze to Da’s book and followed the passage. Sure enough, it was just as Taemon had remembered it. Elder Naseph had changed it. He knew Da was reading along. Was he openly taunting Da? Daring him to object?
The scriptures on the pulpit closed, and Elder Naseph looked over the congregation. “The great day is at hand. You shall tell your children and your grandchildren that you saw the beginning of the Sacred Cycle of Power. It is time for the people gifted by the Heart of the Earth to lead the world in righteousness.”
The high priest paused to let his words weave their spell. Taemon wondered what “lead the world” meant. Was he talking about ending the hundreds of years of isolation from the powerless world? That couldn’t be right. When the first of Nathan’s descendants had tried to live in the nonpsi world, it had led to nothing but paranoia and hatred during the Great War. The idea alone made Taemon feel queasy.
He turned to look at Da. His father’s face was as still as concrete.
Elder Naseph continued. “Great blessings do not come without great sacrifice. You will be asked to contribute your psi to the community in ways that have not been asked before. There is no room for doubt. There is no place for questioning. Only through exact obedience will the new cycle of power take place.”
Taemon looked around the sanctuary. Were people believing this? Were they that blind? He studied the faces that surrounded him. Eager. Excited. Enthralled.
“Prepare yourselves and your families. For on the day One Quake, the True Son will be announced and the Cycle of Power shall begin.”
Taemon frowned. One Quake was his birthday, a couple months away. He would be thirteen.
Everyone in Deliverance was obsessed with the announcement of the True Son. It was weeks away, but everyone had a prediction about who would be chosen, about what astonishing thing would be done. Huge parties were in the planning for the night of the ceremony, and getting invited to the right party was crucial.
But Taemon had more important things on his mind. Things like how to get by without being able to open doors with psi. Or staying after school to finish a project because he couldn’t take it home without carrying it by hand. Or learning how to play a musical instrument without psi.
Music was a required class because it developed discipline and precision with psi. Da had arranged to get Taemon excused from music class until he recovered completely from his accident, but Brother Usaro’s patience had long ago run out, and it was time for Taemon to come up with a new plan. First, he convinced Brother Usaro to let him switch to the bass drum. He told the teacher he needed lots of extra practice and asked permission to take the drum home for the weekend. Da had to carry it home for him.
In Da’s workshop, Taemon took the drum apart. Knowing that drums used to be played with sticks and mallets in the days before psi, he tinkered with different contraptions until he figured out how to rig a mallet attached to a lever inside the drum. On the outside of the drum, disguised among the tension rods and mounting lugs, he added a bar that he could push with his foot or knee to control the mallet. He put it all back together and even managed to tune it properly.
He practiced for hours in the workshop, different positions, different ways to use the lever without drawing attention to it. Now it was time to join the music class.
Unfortunately, they were working on a particularly difficult piece at the moment.
“Not bad,” Brother Usaro said after the first run-through.
Not bad? The orchestra had the musical quality of a quadrider crash.
“We have to sort a few things out,” Brother Usaro said. “Try that again while I listen for trouble spots.” He used psi to start his baton bouncing the rhythm at the
The scriptures on the pulpit closed, and Elder Naseph looked over the congregation. “The great day is at hand. You shall tell your children and your grandchildren that you saw the beginning of the Sacred Cycle of Power. It is time for the people gifted by the Heart of the Earth to lead the world in righteousness.”
The high priest paused to let his words weave their spell. Taemon wondered what “lead the world” meant. Was he talking about ending the hundreds of years of isolation from the powerless world? That couldn’t be right. When the first of Nathan’s descendants had tried to live in the nonpsi world, it had led to nothing but paranoia and hatred during the Great War. The idea alone made Taemon feel queasy.
He turned to look at Da. His father’s face was as still as concrete.
Elder Naseph continued. “Great blessings do not come without great sacrifice. You will be asked to contribute your psi to the community in ways that have not been asked before. There is no room for doubt. There is no place for questioning. Only through exact obedience will the new cycle of power take place.”
Taemon looked around the sanctuary. Were people believing this? Were they that blind? He studied the faces that surrounded him. Eager. Excited. Enthralled.
“Prepare yourselves and your families. For on the day One Quake, the True Son will be announced and the Cycle of Power shall begin.”
Taemon frowned. One Quake was his birthday, a couple months away. He would be thirteen.
Everyone in Deliverance was obsessed with the announcement of the True Son. It was weeks away, but everyone had a prediction about who would be chosen, about what astonishing thing would be done. Huge parties were in the planning for the night of the ceremony, and getting invited to the right party was crucial.
But Taemon had more important things on his mind. Things like how to get by without being able to open doors with psi. Or staying after school to finish a project because he couldn’t take it home without carrying it by hand. Or learning how to play a musical instrument without psi.
Music was a required class because it developed discipline and precision with psi. Da had arranged to get Taemon excused from music class until he recovered completely from his accident, but Brother Usaro’s patience had long ago run out, and it was time for Taemon to come up with a new plan. First, he convinced Brother Usaro to let him switch to the bass drum. He told the teacher he needed lots of extra practice and asked permission to take the drum home for the weekend. Da had to carry it home for him.
In Da’s workshop, Taemon took the drum apart. Knowing that drums used to be played with sticks and mallets in the days before psi, he tinkered with different contraptions until he figured out how to rig a mallet attached to a lever inside the drum. On the outside of the drum, disguised among the tension rods and mounting lugs, he added a bar that he could push with his foot or knee to control the mallet. He put it all back together and even managed to tune it properly.
He practiced for hours in the workshop, different positions, different ways to use the lever without drawing attention to it. Now it was time to join the music class.
Unfortunately, they were working on a particularly difficult piece at the moment.
“Not bad,” Brother Usaro said after the first run-through.
Not bad? The orchestra had the musical quality of a quadrider crash.
“We have to sort a few things out,” Brother Usaro said. “Try that again while I listen for trouble spots.” He used psi to start his baton bouncing the rhythm at the
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