were up all over, drawn by some unseen force to look around.
Someone started the hymn from the beginning. By the second line, everyone who knew the hymn was singing.
Renzo didn't know the hymn, other than the bits of it that he'd picked up already from Trevin. "He will renew your strength… you will rise on wings like eagles…" He sang those parts. He understood about eagles and how they flew. It was a glorious thought, to think of having something like that.
He suddenly remembered eagles falling from the sky, after he'd shot them. He knew that the same people who'd ordered him to shoot eagles would order others to shoot the people here, and that the officials and the gunmen would consider it a good day's work. They wouldn't even know what they were shooting, since Christians had been eliminated up there, and so no one knew what they were.
He thought of the people of Nyssatun, who had known Christians, and still had hated them, not because of anything the Christians did, but because the people walking in darkness didn't want light shining anywhere near their dark lives.
He went to sit silently on a pew. Trevin and Anthony joined him. When the song was finished, people went back to their huddles and pairs and solo praying, renewed and refreshed.
"I shot eagles," Renzo said, very quietly so that no one but his companions would hear. "I don't think they could make me do it now, but I know what it is to shoot eagles, and I don't think many people here know how much the world hates them."
"You're right, Renzo," Trevin said. "But thanks in part to Anthony, we're better prepared than we were. The pastor before him would encourage us to pretend that Christianity was all about living well and being nice, and getting along with others. Even now, I'm sure it's going to be a shock to face dedicated opposition, probably to me as well as others who haven't been as serious about following God. But God has given people extra grace when they've needed it, and I'm counting on that. I'm just glad that I'm getting a chance to fly, finally, instead of living all my life in this lovely underground cage our well-meaning ancestors built for us, that we've kept in such fine repair."
Renzo looked doubtfully at him.
"Don't misunderstand me, Renzo," Trevin said. "I'm not counting on anything good from a worldly standpoint. If I get it, fine, and thank God for whatever blessings He chooses to bestow. But even if I get crucified, with a hundred people spitting on me as I die in agony, at least I'll die a whole and faithful man. I want that, and I'm ready for that, God helping me to do it."
Renzo sank deep in thought. His mind traced his path to where he was, and he saw a shepherd at work, especially recently. He had a long way to go, but he knew the same shepherd would steer him, if he was willing to obey.
"I need to be baptized," he said.
"That's right. It's an important next step," Anthony said.
"No. I mean I need to be baptized now," Renzo said. "Not Sunday. Now."
"A man after your own heart, Anthony," Trevin said.
Anthony smiled. He'd practically dragged his pastor to the baptismal pool to get him to hurry up, when the hounds of heaven were on his heels, telling him to get baptized. He looked around the room, and tried to tally who had been putting off getting baptized – as they should, if they weren't ready to commit wholeheadedly and wholeheartedly – who might be honestly ready now.
"While you're deciding how to make this a mass dunking, I'm going to go see if the water level is as high as I want it," Trevin said.
"Trevin, you're only half right. I don't want a mass dunking. I want to baptize everyone who's truly ready. There's a wee bit of difference," Anthony said.
"I stand corrected," Trevin said, with a wink.
"That's my line," Anthony said, joking back.
"Renzo, come with me," Trevin said. They headed off to the work areas and dressing rooms hidden near the baptistery in the right front of the sanctuary, Renzo pushing Trevin in his chair.
Anthony went back to his praying, this time to ask a blessing on the baptism, and to confirm whether he should invite others to the pool.
A couple minutes later he realized that a young man and woman were standing nearby, trying to be patient, but being pushed to their limits.
"Hello, Gideon, Susanna. Did you want to see me?" he asked.
"With war started, we thought we'd like to get married now instead of next month. Would you do that?" the young man asked, his betrothed hanging onto his arm, her eyes darting hungrily from his face to that of the pastor.
Anthony realized that another couple was standing nearby, giving off the same signals.
He smiled at Gideon. "Considering that you two have convinced me that you're serious, and understand that marriage is a covenant, sacred in the eyes of God, I think we can arrange that," he said.
Gideon immediately started announcing to everyone that he and Susanna were getting married right then. That hadn't been quite what Anthony had meant – his definition of 'now' allowed for a day or two so friends and relatives could gather – but, after some thought, he decided to go along with it. Why not? Besides, the church was already in a happy uproar of excitement, getting ready for the big event.
He caught movement up near the baptistery. Renzo was peering out the doorway that led to the dressing rooms. He was already in a white robe, the traditional garb for people getting baptized at this church.
"Let's all get Renzo and maybe a few other people baptized, and then we'll all get you married," he said to Gideon and Susanna. He looked at the other couple that was bursting to talk to him. "I'll talk to you as soon as I can, but I need to get the first-rounders taken care of before I start on a second round. Otherwise, we'll suffer logjams. Hang on."
The couple nodded, disappointed, but understanding.
Anthony walked to the front of the church. A curtain into the future seemed to open a crack. He saw graveyards, with maimed survivors mourning their dead. He'd had this dream before, but this time he saw people rising from the graves on an appointed day, to join their Lord. However bad the war turned out to be, it couldn't stop that. Not for the people who were born again before that day, not for the faithful ones. Let the world toss around any definition of victory that it wanted to toss around. This was the only victory that counted in reality, and Anthony was determined to fight for every soul he could help lead home.
Trevin had moved Renzo back to where a baptismal candidate was expected to stand, waiting to be called into the water. Anthony took stock of him, before he went to the pulpit to announce what was about to happen, and to invite others to talk to him about getting baptized. Renzo, having been miseducated since infancy, and having murder under his belt, had a long, hard pilgrimage ahead of him, one that would undoubtedly have some alarming detours – but he seemed to understand that. He also knew that what he was doing was considered treasonous by the government he had served for so long. He knew that he faced torture or death if caught. But there he stood, wanting to sign over his life for God's service in front of all and sundry. It wasn't quite a Saul-to-Paul moment, but it was sweet enough and then some.
Trevin, leaning on a shepherd's crook he'd found in a back room, was standing beside him, ready to fight for him, and beside him, come what may.
A blast rattled the room. It was muffled, light, exasperatingly unfocused and impossible to pinpoint. Probably they were at the far edge of its range. Light as it was, it was the first enemy bomb blast in the experience of most of those present – and for all of them it was the first blast of a war that promised many more attacks – and it stabbed into people's hearts and tore their masks off, and smashed dreams and realigned priorities, even more profoundly than the news of war had.
Anthony stepped to the pulpit. "Somebody check out in the tunnel to see if there's anybody or anything out there that needs immediate attention," he said.
Men looked up and down the way, and reported that there weren't any cave-ins or injuries.
"All right, then. I ask you as a body of believers to step forward and fill the front pews. We are going t
o baptize Renzo Pendleton, and marry Gideon Valasquez and Susanna Rowell. After that, we'll see if we have time to do any more baptisms or what have you today."
As people moved to fill the pews, Anthony noticed the couple that wanted to talk to him. The young woman was hopeful, oh, so very hopeful. Better yet, the man was too. A good sign that. He saw Bella Charbonneau beaming at the baptistery, and he bet himself he might have another couple in the making. She surprised him, though, by sitting with Robert from Nyssatun. She had some married ladyfriends with her as chaperones, and she didn't sit really close (she wouldn't, though, being a smart girl), but something about the way she and Robert looked at each other suggested possibilities. Time would tell on that, and right now time was wasting. The congregation had settled in, but many of them clearly wished they could be two places at once, here and off checking on whatever damage might have been done. He was holding things up, not a good thing for anyone to do, but especially a pastor, especially right after an enemy attack. He went to the baptistery, stepped down into the water, and welcomed the newborn Renzo into the family of God, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
Backstage, Trevin did a little dance, before doubling over and grabbing his sore leg. Anthony smiled. Trevin danced at every baptism. He said they all felt like reverse amputations to him –