Read Online Haze and the Hammer of Darkness by L. E. Modesitt Jr. - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: L. E. Modesitt Jr.
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trousers that all the Saint youths affected. As soon as his eyes took in the white monitorâs singlesuit, he looked away and slipped into a seat two rows forward from the one where Roget sat.
Three rows forward on the other side sat two white-haired women. After the tram left the platform, they beganâor resumedâtheir conversation.
â⦠still think itâs a shame the way the Federation limits missionsâ¦â
â⦠say itâs to reduce energy spent on travel ⦠donât want us converting peopleâ¦â
â⦠Jaredâs oldest is in Espagne ⦠says itâs hotter than here ⦠and almost as dryâ¦â
âWhat do they have him doing?â
â⦠building a new stake center there ⦠they canât offer their testament, except in church or on the premises ⦠just show faith by exampleâ¦â
âSo much for freedom of speechâ¦â
Roget wanted to snort. He didnât. Why did so many people think that freedom of speech meant the ability to harangue other people when they didnât want to be bothered? True believers had the idea that once someone understood what they were saying, the listeners would be converted. Understanding didnât mean accepting, and that was why, under the Federationâs freedom of speech provisions, people could harangue all they wanted, but it had to be on their own property, or in their own dwellings, or with the consent of the property owner. Public thoroughfares or property were to be free of any form of solicitation, ideological or commercial, and soliciting others in their dwellings or on their property, without their permission, was also forbidden.
â⦠how can anyone learn the Way if no one can tell them?â
â⦠time will come ⦠the Prophet says ⦠after the great tribulationsâ¦â
â⦠not too soon, if you ask me ⦠had enough tribulationsâ¦â
âHow is Jared?â
âDoing mission duty this year ⦠Wasatch reclamation teamâ¦â
By the time the electrotram came to a halt at the Green Springs platform, the northeastern terminus of the system, and across from the maglev terminus, Roget was the only one in the car. He lifted the bike out of the carrier and carried it onto the platform, just before a large group of young women entered on the other side of the car. All of them looked to be fresh-faced and far younger than he wasâand yet all had the braided hair of married Saint women.
Were they all headed to the Tabernacle or the Temple? For what?
He smiled faintly and snapped the bike together. Then he wheeled it down the ramp from the platform to the street, where he swung onto it and began to pedal eastward along Green Drive South, past white stucco dwellings larger than any heâd seen nearer the center of town. Like the others, though, they had walled rear courtyards. Only a handful of small electrocoupes passed him, all headed westward.
Roget stopped where Green Drive South ended at Riverside Parkway Westâon the west side of the Virgin River. It scarcely deserved to be called a river. While the reddish clay, sandbars, and low vegetation of the riverbed varied from a good fifty to a hundred meters wide, the water itself was less than three meters wide, and certainly less than a meter in depth in most places. It was the largest watercourse between the Colorado River and Reno. No wonder the old American republic had left the place to the Saints.
For several moments, Roget looked at the thin line of water that effectively bordered the east and southeast of St. George. Generally, building was limited to the ground inside the borders of the Virgin River and the Santa Clara wash, which had once been a stream of some sort. Then he leaned the bike against the low sandstone wall that marked the edge of the protected area of the riverbed and studied the
Three rows forward on the other side sat two white-haired women. After the tram left the platform, they beganâor resumedâtheir conversation.
â⦠still think itâs a shame the way the Federation limits missionsâ¦â
â⦠say itâs to reduce energy spent on travel ⦠donât want us converting peopleâ¦â
â⦠Jaredâs oldest is in Espagne ⦠says itâs hotter than here ⦠and almost as dryâ¦â
âWhat do they have him doing?â
â⦠building a new stake center there ⦠they canât offer their testament, except in church or on the premises ⦠just show faith by exampleâ¦â
âSo much for freedom of speechâ¦â
Roget wanted to snort. He didnât. Why did so many people think that freedom of speech meant the ability to harangue other people when they didnât want to be bothered? True believers had the idea that once someone understood what they were saying, the listeners would be converted. Understanding didnât mean accepting, and that was why, under the Federationâs freedom of speech provisions, people could harangue all they wanted, but it had to be on their own property, or in their own dwellings, or with the consent of the property owner. Public thoroughfares or property were to be free of any form of solicitation, ideological or commercial, and soliciting others in their dwellings or on their property, without their permission, was also forbidden.
â⦠how can anyone learn the Way if no one can tell them?â
â⦠time will come ⦠the Prophet says ⦠after the great tribulationsâ¦â
â⦠not too soon, if you ask me ⦠had enough tribulationsâ¦â
âHow is Jared?â
âDoing mission duty this year ⦠Wasatch reclamation teamâ¦â
By the time the electrotram came to a halt at the Green Springs platform, the northeastern terminus of the system, and across from the maglev terminus, Roget was the only one in the car. He lifted the bike out of the carrier and carried it onto the platform, just before a large group of young women entered on the other side of the car. All of them looked to be fresh-faced and far younger than he wasâand yet all had the braided hair of married Saint women.
Were they all headed to the Tabernacle or the Temple? For what?
He smiled faintly and snapped the bike together. Then he wheeled it down the ramp from the platform to the street, where he swung onto it and began to pedal eastward along Green Drive South, past white stucco dwellings larger than any heâd seen nearer the center of town. Like the others, though, they had walled rear courtyards. Only a handful of small electrocoupes passed him, all headed westward.
Roget stopped where Green Drive South ended at Riverside Parkway Westâon the west side of the Virgin River. It scarcely deserved to be called a river. While the reddish clay, sandbars, and low vegetation of the riverbed varied from a good fifty to a hundred meters wide, the water itself was less than three meters wide, and certainly less than a meter in depth in most places. It was the largest watercourse between the Colorado River and Reno. No wonder the old American republic had left the place to the Saints.
For several moments, Roget looked at the thin line of water that effectively bordered the east and southeast of St. George. Generally, building was limited to the ground inside the borders of the Virgin River and the Santa Clara wash, which had once been a stream of some sort. Then he leaned the bike against the low sandstone wall that marked the edge of the protected area of the riverbed and studied the
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