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He stayed for more than two hours, figuring out the amount of concrete that would be necessary and writing an estimate. When they were finished, Ethan all but promised him the job, then walked him to the front gate. “We’re having a celebratory dinner tonight,” he said. “We’d love to have you and your wife join us.”
“What are you celebrating?” Nate asked.
“One of our members has just learned she’s expecting a baby.” They were actually celebrating that this woman had given herself to all interested men via a ritual last month, which meant she had no idea whose child she carried and had therefore agreed to let it be raised by all. She would be no more than a regular “sister” in the child’s life, in accordance with Ethan’s vision of having all things in common.
Nate peered curiously at the people pouring out of the cheese factory. It was noon, when everyone took their lunch break. “Do you celebrate every pregnancy?”
“Some are more important than others,” he hedged. “But yes, for the most part, we do. Children are a blessing, the future of our race and our religion.”
“What about that woman I’ve been hearing about—Martha something? Is it true what she’s telling people?”
Ethan had expected this question. “Not at all. She became disgruntled with her role in life and wanted to leave the commune. Her husband didn’t wish to go with her, and he was the better parent so we supported him in keeping their child. Whatever happened was between them.” Ethan lowered his voice as though taking Nate into his confidence. “I suppose it’s possible he got angry and struck her, but I’ve never known him to be violent. If you want the truth, I personally think she gave herself those injuries. She’s always had emotional issues.”
“So she’s simply a disaffected member.”
“Every group has one or two, sometimes more.” He patted Nate on the back. “Come tonight and speak to her husband. You’ll see.”
The simplicity of Ethan’s lie was what made it believable. He had confidence in that. But Nate wasn’t quite satisfied and it showed on his face. “What about the man who showed me in today? He stopped me and my wife when we were shooting pictures not far from here yesterday.”
“You’re referring to Bartholomew.”
“Yes. He acted as if you have something to hide, as if you don’t like strangers.”
“Don’t let Bart worry you. After hearing the wild accusations Martha’s been spouting to the press, he’s a little defensive, that’s all. Surely you can understand. He’s afraid outsiders will believe her. That they’ll see what they want to see instead of the truth and cause problems for us.”
Nate squinted against the sun. “I guess that makes some sense.”
“All our beliefs make sense, if you’ll allow me to explain them.”
“Rachel and I don’t have to give up our worldly possessions or get a tattoo on our foreheads to socialize with you folks, do we?”
“Of course not. Those who take covenants do so by choice. The brand is a symbol of their personal commitment, their faith.”
“And you don’t care that I don’t have any faith?”
“Faith is something that has to be attained bit by bit. You are new to our doctrines.” He smiled. “How can I convince you that an apple is good if I won’t let you taste it?”
As soon as he’d said that, Ethan wished he’d chosen a different metaphor. But if Nate caught the inadvertent reference to Satan in the Garden of Eden, he didn’t let on. “I just don’t want to get involved in anything like that Jonestown massacre,” he said.
Ethan laughed at his skepticism. “You are filled with fear of the unknown, my friend. Come to the dinner. You’ll see. We will impose nothing on you that isn’t of your own choosing. And you might enjoy yourself.”
“I’ll talk to Rachel about it.”
“Good. I’m sure she can use some friendly neighbors.”
At last, Nathan Mott nodded. “I don’t want my wife to be miserable and lonely now that I’ve dragged her away from her family and friends.” He motioned at some of the faithful who passed by. “But don’t expect me to dress the part. I prefer pants to skirts.”
“Not only is this the type of clothing best suited to the climate, jalabiyas are functional and inexpensive to make. But as I said, everything we do here is by choice.” Ethan signaled to the guards to unlock the gate. “Thank you for coming.”
Ethan watched Nate pass through. He wasn’t sure what to make of him, but he was intrigued enough to want more contact—with him and his wife.
“Holy One.”
Already, Bart was at his elbow. “What is it?”
“Did I hear correctly? Did you invite Mr. Mott to the celebration?”
“I did.”
“But inviting these outsiders—” he spat the word with so much disdain that he might as well have said infidels “—could attract attention we don’t want. It could encourage those who would see us disbanded.”
Ethan turned to face him. “Have you figured out the password so you can get access to his computer?”
“Not yet.”
“Take it to C. J. Howard. He’s good at that sort of thing. I want to know what’s on it.”
“If you’ll give me some more time I might be able to crack it myself.”
“I’m in a hurry.”
“Why?”
“Because—” he paused for maximum effect “—I’ve seen a vision.”
Bart made no reply.
“Rachel Mott is the Vessel,” he continued. “She’s the one we’ve been waiting for.”
“A heathen, Holy One? You would spill your seed in a heathen?”
Surprised, Ethan stiffened. “You’d call the mother of my son a heathen?”
As usual, Bart stood tall. He was nothing if not stubborn. But he also knew when he’d gone too far. “Of course not. I was…surprised, that’s all. You know God’s will better than me.”
Slightly mollified, Ethan glared at him. “Oh, ye of little faith. No matter what she is now, she won’t be a heathen when I’m done with her. She will become the bride of the whole church. Every man here will spill his seed in her.” All those who were capable, at least.
“Yes, Holy One.” Bart bowed his head. “I beg you, forgive me.”
