The CRES code

Chapter Fifteen - The Service

     Most of the pews were already full when Randall and the priest re-entered the nave, and there were still more people filing in through the large double doors from the reception hall. Each new arrival was greeted by a man in a white robe. A verger, Randall guessed. He remembered that, back before the decline of organised religion, vergers were member of the church staff junior to the priest himself whose job was to help him in the running of the church. They also conducted some of the minor services if the priest was otherwise occupied, but weren't qualified to perform any of the priest's major duties such as weddings and baptisms.

     Several of the already seated citizens stared disapprovingly at the hibernator in his filthy, torn, potato sack clothes. They were, by their appearance, moderately wealthy middle class people, and Randall guessed that there were other churches that catered for the poorest of the city's inhabitants, thereby preventing them from having to rub shoulders with their betters.

     "Perhaps you should change into something a bit more comfortable," said the priest. "I'll show you where we keep the clothes. They're donated by the people of the parish, along with food, shoes and money. For the poor."

     Randall nodded, thinking that the clothes had almost certainly belonged to dead relatives before being donated, but he was hardly in a position to be choosy. He allowed the priest to lead him to another room at the back of the church, therefore, where threadbare, moth eaten and colour faded clothes were stuffed untidily in a number of wooden chests. The priest popped out for a moment, then returned with another verger dressed in a white robe. "Cuthbert, please assist Mister Randall, if you please." The verger nodded and the priest returned to see to his parishioners.

     Fifteen minutes later, Randall was standing in a rough woollen tunic with a hood and long red breeches not quite long enough to reach down to his ankles. He was wearing a pair of boots that still had some wear left in their wooden soles but which he could feel were going to start chafing his ankles very quickly. Under everything else was a set of linen underwear. He'd expected them to be alive with lice and fleas, but they weren't and Randall found himself grateful for whatever high tech measures the priest took to keep the pests and parasites away. It itched like crazy, though, and he could only hope that he would get used to it before he scratched himself raw trying to ease the discomfort.

     "Thet's better," said Cuthbert, smiling and revealing perfect white teeth. "Now ye looks likes a proper, respectable person, fit ter attend a religious service. Cem on, let's see if there's still a seat for yez."

     All the pews were taken, though, and Randall had to stand at the back with the children and a young woman holding a crying baby. A young man sitting on the back row stood and offered Randall his seat, but Randall declined. All the muck and grime on his face and in his hair must be making him look old, he thought, despite that fact that his cosmetic treatments had made him look a good ten years younger than his fifty years before entering hibernation.

     The last of the congregation had entered the church now and the verger closed the doors. It immediately began to get warmer as the draught of cold air was shut out. Conversations stopped as Cuthbert began handing out hymn books. Randall glanced at the one the young woman held out for him to share, but he couldn't read it. The written language had evidently evolved over the centuries more than the spoken language had.

     The priest climbed to the pulpit and stood there until every eye was on him. He looked out across the sea of people and his eye fixed on Randall. "We will begin with hymn number two one six," he said without taking his eyes off him and Randall suppressed a smile. The whole service was going to be aimed at him, he guessed, telling him that his best option for the rest of his life was to simply find a place for himself in this new world and fit in. That didn't mesh with Randall's plans at all, though. He wanted no part of this miserable, primitive world. He was a civilised man and he was accustomed to a civiised lifestyle. Somehow, he intended to find a way to attain it.