priest. “Ita, Latinam dico.”
Yes, I speak Latin.
“Ubi Latinam didicisti?” Thrist asked.
Where did you learn Latin?
“Me abimperatore in loco appellato Roma ea docta est.”
It was taught to me by an emperor in a place called Rome.
“Quis rex erat? Quando regnabat?”
Who was this king? When did he rule?
“Aliquem hac aetate eum noscere dubito. Misere cecidit. Membra senatus sui eum insidiis interfecerunt.”
I doubt anyone remembers him in this era. He died poorly. Members of his senate assassinated him.
“Caesar!” Thrist cried, his voice cracking in an octave that was normally too high for him. “Julius Caesar!”
“Illud erat nomen,” Bub said. His voice was oddly sensual, almost a verbal caress. “Quis nunc imperator tuus est?”
That was his name. Who is your emperor in this age?”
“What just happened?” Sun asked.
“Apparently Julius Caesar taught Bub Latin,” Andy replied.
Thrist’s heart was threatening to burst from his rib cage. He was talking with a being who lived in the era of Christ. In the same part of the world. This was even more incredible than he’d imagined.
A demon by itself was ample evidence for the existence of God. But could this creature also prove without doubt that Jesus was God’s son on earth?
This was the dawn of a new era. Religious differences, agnosticism, atheism, war, inhumanity; they’d all be things of the past. The world would embrace Bub’s message and a collective effort would be made to worship the one true God. The Christian God.
Thrist’s God.
“Habesne cognitionem viri religiosi ex Galileo, qui in Bethlehem natus est? Iudaes qui multos disipulos habebat?”
Did you know of a religious man from Galleli, born in Bethlehem? A Jew with a large following?
“Jeeeesus Christ,”
Bub said the name in English.
“I haaaaave seeeeen Jeeeeesus.”
The breath caught in Thrist’s throat and his lower jaw began to tremble. All the Bible study, all the research, all the prayers, none of it had brought Thrist as close to God as he was feeling right now.
“Narro de eo, sis.”
Please, tell me of him.
“Father,” Rabbi Shotzen cut in. “We have time for this later.”
“Narro de eo,” Thrist implored.
“Father,” Shotzen sighed, “please let them get on with their work. This can wait.”
“Bullshit!” the priest spat at Shotzen. The rabbi recoiled in surprise. “You don’t want to hear of it because you don’t want to hear the truth! For two thousand years you’ve been waiting for a Messiah that already came! You missed Him! Now’s your chance to atone for your mistake!”
Thrist turned to Bub and begged, “Tell me of Jesus! Tell me what you know!”
The demon stretched his mouth wide in a grin.
“Serius, Pater. Tempus sine arbitrus mox habebimus.”
Later, Father. We’ll have time alone soon.
Bub was using the same soothing voice that he’d used with the sheep.
“Sciendus sum! Eratne Deus? Estne natus ex virgine? Cognitionem eius habebas… erasne qui in desertis eum temptabas? Heu, sciendus sum!”
I must know! Was he God? Was he born of a virgin? You knew him… were you the one that tempted him in the desert? I must know dammit!
“Soooooon,”
soothed the demon. He gave his attention back to Andy and Sun.
Thrist banged on the glass, but Bub paid him no mind.
Thrist stepped back and looked at the others. Andy looked embarassed. Sun was frowning. He turned to Rabbi Shotzen, and was stunned to see the sadness on his friend’s chubby face.
“I… I’m…”
Shotzen gave him his back.
“For a man of faith you’re showing surprisingly little,” the Rabbi said.
Thrist opened his mouth, closed it again. His face became very hot. He didn’t trust his voice. He reached for the crucifix hanging from his neck.
Christ felt cold in his hand.
Thrist hurried out the door, hurried down the Red Arm, fumbling the code for the first gate several times, fumbling several more times at the second, racing to his room
Yes, I speak Latin.
“Ubi Latinam didicisti?” Thrist asked.
Where did you learn Latin?
“Me abimperatore in loco appellato Roma ea docta est.”
It was taught to me by an emperor in a place called Rome.
“Quis rex erat? Quando regnabat?”
Who was this king? When did he rule?
“Aliquem hac aetate eum noscere dubito. Misere cecidit. Membra senatus sui eum insidiis interfecerunt.”
I doubt anyone remembers him in this era. He died poorly. Members of his senate assassinated him.
“Caesar!” Thrist cried, his voice cracking in an octave that was normally too high for him. “Julius Caesar!”
“Illud erat nomen,” Bub said. His voice was oddly sensual, almost a verbal caress. “Quis nunc imperator tuus est?”
That was his name. Who is your emperor in this age?”
“What just happened?” Sun asked.
“Apparently Julius Caesar taught Bub Latin,” Andy replied.
Thrist’s heart was threatening to burst from his rib cage. He was talking with a being who lived in the era of Christ. In the same part of the world. This was even more incredible than he’d imagined.
A demon by itself was ample evidence for the existence of God. But could this creature also prove without doubt that Jesus was God’s son on earth?
This was the dawn of a new era. Religious differences, agnosticism, atheism, war, inhumanity; they’d all be things of the past. The world would embrace Bub’s message and a collective effort would be made to worship the one true God. The Christian God.
Thrist’s God.
“Habesne cognitionem viri religiosi ex Galileo, qui in Bethlehem natus est? Iudaes qui multos disipulos habebat?”
Did you know of a religious man from Galleli, born in Bethlehem? A Jew with a large following?
“Jeeeesus Christ,”
Bub said the name in English.
“I haaaaave seeeeen Jeeeeesus.”
The breath caught in Thrist’s throat and his lower jaw began to tremble. All the Bible study, all the research, all the prayers, none of it had brought Thrist as close to God as he was feeling right now.
“Narro de eo, sis.”
Please, tell me of him.
“Father,” Rabbi Shotzen cut in. “We have time for this later.”
“Narro de eo,” Thrist implored.
“Father,” Shotzen sighed, “please let them get on with their work. This can wait.”
“Bullshit!” the priest spat at Shotzen. The rabbi recoiled in surprise. “You don’t want to hear of it because you don’t want to hear the truth! For two thousand years you’ve been waiting for a Messiah that already came! You missed Him! Now’s your chance to atone for your mistake!”
Thrist turned to Bub and begged, “Tell me of Jesus! Tell me what you know!”
The demon stretched his mouth wide in a grin.
“Serius, Pater. Tempus sine arbitrus mox habebimus.”
Later, Father. We’ll have time alone soon.
Bub was using the same soothing voice that he’d used with the sheep.
“Sciendus sum! Eratne Deus? Estne natus ex virgine? Cognitionem eius habebas… erasne qui in desertis eum temptabas? Heu, sciendus sum!”
I must know! Was he God? Was he born of a virgin? You knew him… were you the one that tempted him in the desert? I must know dammit!
“Soooooon,”
soothed the demon. He gave his attention back to Andy and Sun.
Thrist banged on the glass, but Bub paid him no mind.
Thrist stepped back and looked at the others. Andy looked embarassed. Sun was frowning. He turned to Rabbi Shotzen, and was stunned to see the sadness on his friend’s chubby face.
“I… I’m…”
Shotzen gave him his back.
“For a man of faith you’re showing surprisingly little,” the Rabbi said.
Thrist opened his mouth, closed it again. His face became very hot. He didn’t trust his voice. He reached for the crucifix hanging from his neck.
Christ felt cold in his hand.
Thrist hurried out the door, hurried down the Red Arm, fumbling the code for the first gate several times, fumbling several more times at the second, racing to his room
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