“I know that,” Jill said with some asperity.
“Forgive me,” Piscator said, smiling slightly. “After the unsuccessful attack by the Soul Citizens, Greystock was made a colonel. And after Parolando’s successful invasion of Soul City, he was made its governor. Clemens wanted a tough, ruthless man, and like most feudal lords, Greystock was that.
“However, several weeks ago Soul City voluntarily became one of the states in the United States of Parolando, fully equal with the mother state.
“Of course”-here Piscator smiled lopsidedly-“by now the supply of minerals in Soul City is almost exhausted. Project Airship doesn’t need Soul City anymore. Also, through the process which Greystock calls attrition, a very euphemistic term, I fear, the original makeup of the population there has changed considerably. It was once a majority of mid-twentieth-century American blacks, with a minority of medieval Arabs-fanatical Wahhabis-and Dravidian speakers of ancient India. Because of the wars and Greystock’s harsh governorship, its population became about half-white.”
“He sounds so savage,” she said. “With due apologies to the savages.”
“He had several rebellions to put down. No one was forced to stay at Soul City, you know. Clemens would not permit slavery. Everybody was given a chance to leave, to go peacefully and with all his possessions elsewhere. Many citizens stayed there, swore loyalty to Parolando, but then became saboteurs.”
“Guerrilla warfare?”
“Hardly,” Piscator said. “You know that the topography just isn’t fined for guerrilla activity. No. It seems that a number of Soul Citizens thought that sabotage would be a method of recreation.”
“Recreation?”
“It gave them something to do. It was better than drifting on down The River. Besides, many of them wanted revenge.
“To give Greystock his due, he usually just kicked any saboteurs he caught out of the state. Actually, he threw them into The River. Well, that is history, and it happened before I came here. Anyway, Greystock has come here because he wants to be a member of the airship crew.”
“But he has no qualifications!”
“True-in one sense. He does not come from a highly technological culture, relatively speaking. But he is intelligent and curious, and he can learn. And though he was once a baron of England and governor of Soul City, he is willing to be a lowly crewman. The idea of flying fascinates him. It’s akin to magic-for him. Firebrass has promised him that he can go-if there are not enough qualified airshipmen. Of course, if by chance the crew of the Graf Zeppelin or the Shenandoah should just happen to come along …” Piscator had smiled.
Greystock was about 1.8 meters, a very tall height during the medieval period. His hair was black, long, and straight; his eyes, large and grey; his eyebrows, thick; his nose, slightly aquiline. His features harmonized into a ruggedly good-looking face. His shoulders were broad; his waist, narrow; his legs, thickly packed with muscle but long.
At the moment, he was speaking to Samuelo, his grin and his tone both sarcastic. Piscator had said that Greystock hated priests, though he had been very devout during his Terrestrial existence. Apparently, he had never forgiven the clergy for falsely claiming to know the truth about the afterlife.
Using Esperanto, Greystock said, “But surely you must have some idea of who and what La Viro was on Earth? What race was he? What nationality? When was he born, when died? Was he prehistoric, ancient, medieval, or what the later peoples called modern? What had he been on Earth, a religionist, agnostic, or atheist? What was his trade or profession? His education? Was he married? Did he have children? Was he a homosexual?
“Was he unknown during his time? Or was he, perhaps, Christ? And is that why He is remaining anonymous, knowing that no one is going to believe His lies a second time?”
Samuelo scowled, but he said, “I know little of this Christ; only what has been told me and that is not much. All I know of La Viro is what I have heard through word of mouth. They say that he is very tall, white skinned though very dark, and some say that they think he might have been Persian.
“But all this is irrelevant. It is not his background or his physical appearance that matters. What does matter is his message.”