Prophet, Interrupted - Believer Succession

By Buster's Uncle



Manuel Godwinson shared several things in common with his sister: a persuasive voice, solemn eyes and strong chin, and the appearance of a man with total conviction. He also had faith in Jesus that burned brightly within him, as if fueled by a direct link to the Almighty Himself. Like his sister, he had a naturally pale complexion, and a full head of handsome russet hair.

He had notable differences, however. His inability to temper his rapturous faith in the face of worldly realities was something he'd carried with him always. And his abiding distrust of the Other, the unfamiliar, the different - that came about with a lifetime of perceived failings and near-misses, with every cuff from a harsh and dogmatic father.

Manuel was ten years older than Miriam. Growing up, he had known faith as a code, a duty. Sacrifice came as a hard-learned quality to him, accompanied by bitter lessons and the acrid taste of harsh words. Unlike Miriam, however, his eager study of the Word came without the accompanying lesson of moderation, of flexibility. By his adult life, Manuel had overcome economic challenges and numerical odds that would have broken lesser men, for which he thanked the Savior. By the same token, however, Manuel had encountered setbacks and failures. It never occurred to him that those failures could have any cause apart from himself. From the start, he judged his own failings with all the mercy of a torchlit pogrom.

There was a right way in Christ, and Manuel was determined that he, a miserable sinner, was going to follow that path - though Satan bar the way. He told himself that though all have sinned and the road has hard, he would purify himself in the Saviors redemption, fulfill His great commission. Sin must be banished from his heart, and all the hearts he could reach. The reward was eternity.

At first he felt pity for his sister. Pity that she would face the same obstacles and hard knocks he took - worse as she learned a womans proper place, had her lofty ambitions crushed. And a sense of camaraderie, that when she stumbled, he would be there to set her right again. To commiserate with her at the pervasive injustice of it all. To share the crumbs of comfort from a distant and aloof God.

Miriam never stumbled. Far from leaning on his guidance, she blossomed and took wing and rose, unstoppable. With her own parish, then her missions, and then her calling to the Unity program - and Manuel a mere diminished observer.

It was sisterly love that made her push so strongly for his inclusion in the staff rosters. And somewhere in the arcane files of the mission's records back on Earth, there was a committee report that fully exonerated Manuel for the skilled communicator and effective instructor that he had proven himself. But ever after, Manuel would carry with him the conviction that he owed a growing debt to his sister, long since risen to heights he could not follow. It didnt seem fair. It didnt seem right.

Hitherto, Manuel had been active in the Church of the Neo-Calvinist Conclave as a Minister, as Miriams right-hand man, getting what was needed done, and rarely making any political pronouncements. But sources close to him knew him as a man with volatile and passionate depths, with an overwhelming focus on the Bible.

He told no one his opinion of the fitness of women in the ministry - ever.

He was very good with children and younger citizens. His contact with women other than Miriam outside his many duties was negligible; when not working, he rarely set aside his prayer and study to socialize, and had no close friends, save one.

* ~ * ~ *

Manuel was sitting at Miriams desk going through administrative paperwork when word of the incident arrived. Like everyone else, he rushed to the nearest comm screen for more information. But unlike many, he had to tear himself away; he had responsibilities brought on directly by the crisis. The Lords Believers still needed leadership, and it fell upon him as the one left in charge.

The next few days, as the details of the magnitude of the attack trickled in, were harrowing. It felt like everyone wanted a piece of Manuel - to console him for his loss, to be consoled, to make decisions about things important and petty. All of it was colored by Manuels mounting rage at the godless Peacekeepers for luring Miriam into what was clearly a murderous ruse.

As it became clear at last that Miriam was gone to her reward, the pressure mounted. There were funeral arrangements to be made, more and more and more people making demands on his time as her only living relative. He hid it well, but Manuel was really a shy man who desperately wanted to hide from visitors, now more than ever in his life. He was alone in the universe, the last Godwinson left - and all he wanted to do at times was lay his head on his mother's lap and weep.

With the twin turmoils of the soul and his responsiblies always worrying at him, he wasnt getting enough sleep, either; there was never a moments peace. The details of running a faction encompassing 16 stubborn flavors of faith - 15 Christian denominations and the Catholics, hed always privately considered it - were endless.

* ~ * ~ *

The receiving of friends the night before the funeral was hellish. He had to shake thousands of hands with no family to support him, no opportunities to duck away from unpleasant company, no respite from the pious fraudulent condolences of Miriams political enemies. Why didnt you say that to Miriam, while she was alive? passed through his head so often it was like a new prayer. He wanted to be anywhere in the universe but here.

The sole highlight of the evening was seeing the Abbess. Sister Prudence held up the receiving line when she pushed his outstretched hand aside and drew her arms around him in an embrace of genuine condolence.

Oh Manny, my boy- she was the only one who called him that -how are you bearin up? she asked. As she raised her head from his shoulder, he heard the whisper of her dark auburn hair at his ear, felt its caress on his cheek. Prudence had never liked headdresses much.

Manuel fought back tears. Few had presumed to even touch him, the Prophet-apparent of the Conclave hierarchy, since it had all begun. Better now that youre here, Prude, he said, his eyes moistening and a smile beginning to light his eyes for the first time in two weeks. Why did you have to be a nun?

She smiled sadly and gave him a pat on the elbow. Silly man, she said, What would my husband say about your flirtin?

Her husband - wedded to Christ, Manuel thought. Jesus had clearly gotten the best of the crop when it came to Prudence. As Miriams chief of staff, hed been thrown into constant contact with the leader of the Catholics. The problems of keeping peace were greatest with Catholic-Protestant relations. No single denomination alone matched the Catholics for sheer numbers, but count all the Protestant congregations together, and you got a different story. It gave rise to doctrinal tensions, and perhaps more tellingly, cultural ones; Manuel had often thanked God for sending Prudence to even things out.

Hed felt enormously uncomfortable with her for a long time. Manuel was shy with women in general anytime he found himself alone with them, and at first he didnt approve of  really, almost anything about her. He found her indecently good-looking for a nun, and improbably young for her office. For a woman of her station, he found she had insufficient regard for proper feminine decorum, and an excessive love of arguing. Not to mention she was a Catholic, he thought sourly.

But he found himself looking forward to each meeting. Their ferocious arguments were her idea of fun. Manuels ideal argument involved the other party shutting up while he set them straight, which never happened with Prudence - whom he believed was wrong about everything 50 times before she even woke up in the morning. But she was clever, and she was non-threatening as a woman because she was so unavailable. Theyd found themselves settling into a comfortable, if combative, friendship.

Manuel had even eventually unlimbered enough to actually flirt with her from time to time. He was hardly practiced at it, but hed loved to see her laugh. She would dissolve into helpless laughter at his clumsy advances. It was the only time he ever got the better of her in theological debates.

He held it a closely guarded secret from the entire universe how much he thought about her when she wasnt around. Prudence seemed to have little idea how serious he was.

And now this maddening, quickening woman with the woodsprite's smile and the firebrand hair was embracing him. In front of all these people. And he found himself too glad to care  not even that hed said something flirtatious to her in front of others for the first time. This was only happiness hed felt lately.

Hed forgive me, Prude; he can spare me one bride. Manuel hoped it came off as a joke and hoped it didnt at the same time. His heart was racing. 

Manny, she said, giving him a squeeze and pulling back, for you I almost would. Id better go or people will talk. Some nearby Neo-Calvinists and Catholics were indeed beginning to purple. Ill come see you soon. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, to an audible gasp from the elderly sister behind her, and swished away.

Manuel watched her briefly, and then turned back to the crowds - and to the purgatorial ordeals they bore him proudly as gifts. He wished forlornly that hed asked her to have supper with him tomorrow.


* ~ * ~ *

The following days were no less wearying, but anointment as Conclave Prophet gave him a joy - part triumph, part bitterness. After that, there would be a pro-forma ordainment by the Synod of Elders as Brother, the leader of the whole faction. Manuel began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Finally the Divine Path hed sought for so long was opening - finally everything could be set right.

He had even started to relax during the Synod meeting, planning his first address to his expanded flock, when his reverie broke at the voice of Raul Diaz calling out from the floor. I nominate Abbess Prudence ODonnell, the next Sister of the Believers!

The Chairman banged the gavel, and motioned Prudence to come up and be seated beside Manuel.

Prude, Manuel whispered, his pulse pounding.

She didnt look at him. Later.

He could barely keep his seat as the polling began, struggling to keep his manner composed. How dare they challenge him? And with her?

This was HIS moment. This was a BETRAYAL. They wanted to put another WOMAN in his way? How could she DO this to him?

The relative calm he'd known moments before was gone, consumed by the resurgent fury, flaring up higher than ever. 

The Anglican/Episcopalian bloc defected, but the outcome was never truly in doubt. The Catholics just didnt have enough support lined up.

Manuel couldnt trust himself to look at Prudence as he rose to take the pulpit. The more charismatically-oriented segments of the Believers found Brother Manuels unexpectedly fiery sermon quite moving.

* ~ * ~ *

Brother Manuel was too angry to concentrate on the documents he was supposed to be approving, unable to keep his thoughts from racing over a million grievances.

After all the years of standing in a womans shadow, hed finally taken his rightful place as Prophet. Everything was finally supposed to be put to right now - and that dammed Papist and her idolaters dared defy Gods Elect! They had the nerve to style their blasphemous mockery of the Faith the Holy Mother Church! And that backstabbing woman...

She just didnt know her place. His thoughts slowed. God had shown him the Holy Path, and he had followed it to become shepherd to the flock. Sister Prudence had tempted him to sin - had shaken his confident steps along the Path - with her sharp remarks and her twinkling eyes and her damnable, vain, insufferable, uncovered auburn locks.

None of it. He would tolerate none of it. It wasnt right. Something would have to be done about that woman, and soon

* ~ * ~ *

When Trudy brought in the dossier on the new Peacekeepers leader, she noticed how quiet Brother Manuel got. She felt puzzled as she left the office.

A WOMAN, he thought, fuming, another WOMAN.


* ~ * ~ *

The initial Believer attack took out the UN defenses around the sensors, and Believer personnel quickly took control of the broadcasting signals, keying them in to relay Manuel's sermons into UN territory. UN forces scrambled to the outpost, but held their distance beyond firing range in a defensive line, unwilling to risk further loss of life over a relatively minor loss of materiel.

* ~ * ~ *

"It was our own damnable fault, for sending my sister in the first place!" Manuel said heatedly. "St. Paul to the Corinthians - a woman shall not go as a teacher of men. And God punished her, He smote her for the hubris. Already I hear those heathen protectors of the secular state, the U.N. Peacekeepers, have appointed a female as their leader. They defy GOD!" Manuel wiped his face with his sleeve, and breathed easier. "I shall put right what was allowed to wander," he said, more evenly.

Prudence was not a small woman at all, though people rarely noticed it under her dull robes and fiery personality - but Manuel was a hulk of a man who dwarfed her. If he hadnt reminded her so much of her many brothers, she might have been afraid of the shouting, pig-headed fool.

You know I had to try, dont you? she returned, I have to look out for my people.

Every woman who prayeth or propheseyeth with her head uncovered DISHONORETH HER HEAD! thundered Manuel.

An I suppose Paul wasnt simply admonishing the brethren to not behave like the licentious Greeks around them then? she fired back.

And what do you call WORSHIPPING THE DEAD?" he blasted. "Thou shalt have NO OTHER GODS BEFORE ME!

Prudence laughed. Intercessory Prayer? Didnt they teach you anything at Seminary? Ye did make it past ninth grade, didnt you, Manny?

She was even more beautiful when she laughed, but that made Manuel angrier. He rose, rounded his desk in a single stride, and took her arm in a strong hand. Prudence began to feel real fear as she met his manic gaze, menacingly close. This was a unique turn in their debates.

"Woman, you will address me as Sir, or Prophet, or Reverend," he said, icily, "Brother Manuel will do when you've been keeping a civil tongue in your head.

"But you'll not be familiar with me, not even if the Deacons have to church every statue-worshipper of yours in the faction. Know your place, or you'll learn it when God judges you."

They were aware of the closeness of each other, standing face to face. His grip tightened. He

He let go her arm and rounded his desk again. As he sat back down, he gave a sigh of - what? Defeat? Relief? She couldn't tell. When he spoke at last, it was in a quiet monotone: In the future, send Diaz to deal with this office. I cant bear to look at you. Get out.

He didnt see Prudences face tearing up as she silently turned and left the room. He didn't feel the tightness in his own chest. His entire focus was the photo before him. An Indian woman, garbed in U.N. heraldry, bearing the murderous standard of the so-called "Peacekeepers".

With an effort he slowed his breathing, reached past the portrait of Miriam on the desk and hit the comm. button. Trudy, bring me the latest strategic assessments.

She was going to pay 