Pai gets mistaken for a boy. That’s freakin’ hilarious. But, we see that, yes, there is some kind of religious sentiment about Ildi in this unregulated northern town. Unregulated towns and new religions, well, names such as Medina and Mecca spring to mind. Not something that either the imperium or other spokes of the Polar Alliance would appreciate.

Mark XXs. Might be a story there.

Enjoy my content? Buy me a beer!

From unoccupied houses, they passed into an open area of overgrown fields.  After that, the pavement went east and west with more gravel ahead.  With a toss of her head, Pai indicated they go east.  Illuminated by only one light on each side, a footbridge, about two hundred feet long, crossed the river.  They paused while she stared.

“Looks safe enough,” she concluded, stepping forward.  “And, if not, I’m good at falling into rivers.”

Once across, she paused to look about before going straight ahead to a very old, two-story building.  “The south part is where they hold small plays,” she said.  “There are lights and a small crowd there, so let’s begin.”

Whatever the production was – Graf had never seen a play – it was over as about two dozen or thirty people were coming out.  Must not have been a tragedy as most are smiling and happy.  One couple, looking about their age, noted the strangers and came over.

“Hey there,” the young man asked, not extending a hand.  That’s rude.  Is he Canadian?  “You two just wander in?”

“Yes, we’re travelers.  From outside of Madison, former Wisconsin,” he said, now not putting his hand out, either.  “I’m Graf and this is Pai.”

“Long way from home,” the local said.  No name, really?

“We’re treating it like our honeymoon,” he lied.

“Wait!” the young woman spoke up.  “That’s not your little brother?”

“Not at all,” Pai said with a tiny grin, easing close into his right side.  “He is my beloved husband and companion for as long as he lives.”

He could see these two didn’t catch that.  Time to turn this conversation around.  “So how was the play?  I’ve never even been to one, being a farmer from middle-of-nowhere.”

“Oh, here,” the woman said, passing over a playbill.  The cover was color but the other four pages were black and white.

Graf and Pai looked at the cover, glanced at one another, and looked up from the image of an actress dressed as Ildi.  “So,” he tried, “a show about angels?”

“Not just any angel,” she kept on with a smile, “but our city’s angel!  The City Council refused to vote on it, so most of went down there and started breaking windows.  They washed their hands of it, we voted, and here we are!”

And where is that?

“Oh,” said to buy a moment.  “And what’s her name?”

“Ildi,” she replied.

“Joan!” the man rebuked her.  “Apologize and say the right one!”

Taking back the playbill and holding it to her face, the now-teary one called Joan said, “I am sorry, Angel Hilda.  I’m so sorry…”

Now as uncomfortable as curious, Graf made excuses about how late it was and tired they were, and moved away from the crowd, as after the woman’s outburst, several others were looking at them.  Checking to see they were not being followed, he took a deep breath.

“You are suited for this, Pai.  I was not kidding when I told them I’m just a farmer,” he said in a lower voice.  “And who the heck is Hilda?”

“That’s the archaic German where Ildi comes from,” she said, her head also pivoting this way and that.  “It means battle or warrior.”

“From what I read and what you told me, I thought she was a mother and diplomat.” Seeing a bench largely in darkness, he guided her there and they sat.

“I, Husband, am your dear wife who, it seems, looks like your kid brother.  I can also kill everyone here in, oh, three minutes should be enough,” she said.  “While I doubt she has a ‘Berserker Mode’ such as the Empress, she could do much harm if she wanted to.”

“Don’t.” He put his arm up over her shoulders.  “But maybe you’ll be upgrading that form sooner than later?”

“Prototype Mark XXs might be capable of bearing children,” she said slyly.  “Interested?”

Too dangerous a topic.

“So, these people have a serious infatuation with,” he looked around again, “Ildi.”

“Unlike Alix, and I do not dispute her veneration for Aurie, what we saw now was devotion.  They worship Ildi.  And,” she paused a moment, “this has happened fast.  Very fast.  I suspect there is somewhere on this campus with signal.  I very much want to send a short report to Aurie.”

He stood and helped up someone who did not remotely need help.  “Then let’s go find it before we look for a place to go to ground.”

***