Refugio, sharing the future…
Megal poured himself a cup of wine and leaned against the wall by a small window in his father’s private office. He stared out into the plain where the city of Ciudad Centro had been built. One side of the volcano that formed the caldera had been blown away by a later eruption. The Residency was built on a high shelf in the remaining side of the caldera, so it overlooked the city. The houses built across the plain were high walled with apartments for many generations of the family. It gave the city a forbidding look—Lots of walls and few door or windows. Francos waited as his son sipped the wine. The meetings today had obviously been long and contentious.
“So, how goes the plans for the funeral?” he asked as his son finished the wine.
“There was dissent. Papi, were you aware of the various factions within the church? There is the one that supports Romerie, and then a group of the younger Keepers who have some very disrupting ideas, and perhaps more factions. I remember some of the younger group from school. Many were from Unspoken families.”
“I have been aware of a level of controversy for some time. The last Poh, may the Three in One receive his soul, confronted it by ignoring it. I did not agree with him, but it was his responsibility, and I had other things to address. What did you hear?” Francos was pleased. This was well done.
“Romerie has supporters but not as many as he may think. There is one group led by Ser Roblies. He taught us history from the Terra at the gymnasium and some of it did not match what the church teaches. He has a large following from the younger clerics and some of the older ones as well.” Serept tapped on the door to remind them that evening meal was waiting.
“Serept, please join us,” Francos called to his aide. “I want to know what you observed of this meeting today. Megal’s observations are very enlightening.” The three men adjourned to dinner.
Serept chose his words carefully. “Megal is correct about the factions, Ser. The family Pesch has long supported the more conservative of the clergy and I suspect they are involved with Keeper Malfe. He is a nephew of Ser Emiliano’s first wife. I noticed that the largest group were the younger men. Several recognized Ser Megal, favorably as I observed.” Megal was a bit embarrassed by what his father’s assistant said.
“It is my recommendation, Ser Francos, that we support Ser Roblies and his group. I believe the changes you wish to make will be easier with his group in control of the church.”
“Papi, you have not told me about this,” Megal said. The notion his father wanted to change anything was a shock.
“There is much that we need to change. We have been on this planet for nearly four generations. We are not the same humans who landed. What the first decided was done because they expected to be rescued, as did the people of Port or the Grounders as they call themselves.” Francos said. He explained to his son about the need for trade among the haciendas as well as more trade with the other settlements. All three groups needed to accept the reality of no rescue. He also realized it was time to share with his son his hopes for changes. He had read extensively about what it was like when they lived on Terra, and he wanted to regain many of those traditions. Their conversation lasted late into the night.
***
The funeral for the leader of the church was a bit chaotic since no one in Refugio had ever planned such a public event. In the past, each Poh had retired and planned his own funeral. They had been small, private ceremonies for elderly clerics and their families. This was the first time one had died in office. The order of the procession seemed fluid with groups trying to walk in front of other groups and a lot of pushing and shoving. This did not bode well for the election of a new leader. Roblies’ followers had the key to a peaceful beginning of change for the Refugio church.
The heads of families walked beside the casket of the late Poh. Strong, young men in each family’s colors carried the very heavily decorated casket. Traditionally, the heads of each family had carried the casket, but previous heads of the church had been men of frugal tastes. This man had loved his meals and his wine. Strong workers were drafted to manage the task, but the family heads walked beside them. Francos and Megal walked behind the casket.
“We must be seen clearly at public events but take care not to favor one family over another. The politics of this is complex,” Francos said to Megal. Free food was provided, and Francos wanted to see how many people came. He had noticed that the number of vagrant people had been growing. People seemed to be arriving in the city without the expected support of their family groups. The system of fidelity to the family who owned the hacienda where you were born was getting weaker. Far too many people were fleeing to the anonymity of the urban area. He had read about the end of feudalism back on Terra and knew it had been disorganized and painful. He wanted to avoid that here. It had been needed when they first were stranded on Higgins, but it had been years.
The meal following the burial of the Poh was done in the plaza before the church. Awnings were hung from the tops of the building to shade from the spring sun. One of the oldest clerics was asked to say a blessing. His very fast prayer over the food caused a twitter of laughter among the people.
“He knows his audience,” Megal whispered to his father as he stifled a laugh.
Francos nodded in agreement. “Watch the crowd. I want to get an idea of how many runaways may be in the crowd. I have asked Serept to keep watch also. I think we have a problem with them.” Francos waved aside the cleric who offered his party the first place in the line for food. “Let the people eat first.” He projected his voice so everyone could hear, then began to watch how those in the lines were dressed. Few of the families in the city would allow their dependents to wear worn or damaged clothing. There was too much pride. The number of those dressed in patched and worn clothing was far higher than he expected. It was worse than he had realized. He believed it was a shame on his leadership that some of his people were suffering.
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