"Ezra, you must let us pay you for your services!" said the taller of the two men who had followed Ezra out of the building. Standing in the intense heat, they wore expensive business suits and carried titanium cases. They sweated profusely, but took no notice of it. Nor did they appear to notice the clergy before them.
"I have already told you no," Ezra replied kindly. "Your merit is its own payment. We have no need for your money. Use it elsewhere in the spirit of your revelation."
The men turned to look at each other and then back to Ezra. "But you have provided an invaluable service to our two planets," the shorter man protested. "Instead of war, we now face trade pacts and technological exchange. I shudder to think what would have happened if the Box had not opened my eyes."
Ezra smiled and stared into the face of the first man. "Mr. Prime Minister." He turned to the second. "Mr. President." He shook his head. "The benefits your people will enjoy are a small part of the richness that the entire race shall soon enjoy. What the Box has given you is nothing compared to what your people shall give to themselves." The men began to renew their protests, but Ezra cut them off. "The issue is closed, gentlemen. I have work I must do and so do you. Using what the Box has created in you is a far greater reward for me than any monetary amount. Good day." He smiled as if trying to add to the heat radiating from the three suns in the sky.
The men's expressions turned from protest to resignation. They turned to each other and walked off, never once paying mind to the assembled men and women of God. As they walked, they discussed excitedly, incoherent to Ezra and the clergy. Ezra's gaze followed the two men, their silhouettes and voices fading into the small clay village down the road. A small cough from the Bishop brought his attention to the congregation who were still focused upon him.
"May I help you?" Ezra asked politely, addressing the Bishop and ignoring the others. "I wasn't aware that such a large group was coming."
The Bishop stepped forward and exhaled forcefully through his nose. "I have been sent from the Confederacy Council of Religion. Myself and my colleagues," he gestured to the crowd, "have come to investigate the strange rumors concerning your institution."
"Strange rumors?" Ezra replied.
"Yes." The Bishop tugged at his robe nervously. "There have been rumors that you eliminate disagreements between anyone. That you have a box which eliminates bad feelings and miraculously makes friends from enemies. That you can resolve any difficulty, even generations-old rivalries."
"Yes," Ezra said simply.
"Yes, you've heard the rumors?" the Bishop asked.
"No, I mean 'Yes, the rumors are true.'"
The Bishop looked as if Ezra had just proclaimed himself God, which to the Bishop was not far from what he had actually said. Before he could reply, Ezra looked past him to the rest of the congregation. "Are all of the religions represented?" he asked. The Imam and Rabbi nodded. Ezra smiled and addressed the entire group.
"Welcome to Humanity. Please follow me." He turned to walk into the building. The representatives followed, the shocked Bishop hurrying to keep up with Ezra.
"Am I to understand that you believe you have mastered the human condition to the point of eliminating disagreement?"
"It is far more simple than you make it sound."
"More simple?" The faces of the others showed interest at the conversation.
"Yes. The Humanity Box allows us to share the minds of humans. I personally do not understand all of the mechanics, but I know that it works," Ezra explained. As he talked, a score of hooded figures drifted into the main hall. Their tan robes covered them from head to toe, large hoods concealing their faces from view. They stood between Ezra and a large stone arch with unfamiliar script engraved in it.
"To best explain it to you, I suppose we should let you experience the Box. Normally, we evaluate candidates over several months, but this is a special case." A loud murmur went up from the representatives as they discussed Ezra's offer. The Bishop turned to his colleagues and motioned for silence.
"I hardly think that appropriate. For all we know, you could be using brainwashing or drugs or something."
"But it is the only way to truly explain it to you," Ezra protested.
"We must try something else," the Bishop said firmly. The others nodded agreement. Ezra frowned in thought.
"All right. What if just one from each religion experienced the Box and the others watched?" Ezra asked hopefully. The Bishop turned to the other clergy and conferred with the other senior clergy. After several minutes, the Bishop turned back to Ezra.
"That will be acceptable. The senior representative from each denomination will experience the Box." Several of the junior clergy and guards protested loudly, obviously fearing for their leaders' safety, but they were overruled.
"Please follow me," Ezra said and walked through the arch, the hooded figures preceding him. The Bishop and the others followed. As they crossed the arch, they found themselves in a dark tunnel, poorly lit by torches on the wall. The tunnel twisted and turned. Younger clergy began to murmur impatiently. Without warning, a bright light blinded the representatives.
As their vision recovered, a lush garden filled their view. Leafy plants mixed with tall trees on a bed of perfectly cut grass. Thin shoots ended in blossoms that represented every color of the rainbow. A stone path wound through the garden. Its twists and turns crossed the curves of a small river, bringing an image of children playing to mind. Fountains of water trickled out of stone walls. The intense light of the suns above indicated that they had entered a courtyard, one that seemed larger than the entire building did from the outside.
"Is this the Box?" the Rabbi asked. Ezra laughed.
"No, this is just our garden," he answered. The hooded figures began to tend the garden with ancient wood and metal tools. "In order to provide our service for free, we have our 'clients' do a day of upkeep." He picked up a spade and handed it to the Bishop. "There are robes over there and the extra . . ."
"Do you actually expect the Dayan to do manual labor?" an outraged Neo-Jew asked. The other representatives joined his protest.
"All people who use our service must work a day. It is a requirement we have never relaxed," Ezra responded above the roar of protest. A moment passed before the Bishop rose his hand for silence.
"It's quite all right. The rest of you can wait in the town until we have contributed our share. After all, it is nothing I did not do as a young priest." The Bishop started to don a robe.
"But what if they try something while we are gone?" asked a young Latter-Day Saint.
"Anything they could do to us they could also do to the entire group," the Imam said. "We will be fine. The greatest threat we face is a few blisters." He laughed at his own joke and joined the Bishop near the tools. The other seniors followed.
"The Old Ones will show you out," Ezra pointed to the hooded figures. They stopped tending the garden and wordlessly herded the junior representatives back through the tunnel. A few protested at first, but complied after harsh words from the Rabbi, Brahmin and Dayan. They soon disappeared from view.
"Let's get to work," the Bishop said. They each picked up tools and began to tend the garden under Ezra's supervision. A few stared curiously at the tools, unsure of their use. Others guided them, however, and they quickly set to work.
"I haven't done this in twenty years," the Bishop commented, helping the Brahmin and Rabbi to pull weeds.
"Reminds me of basic training," the Dayan replied, helping the Imam with a cart of topsoil. "'Course without the guns." The others laughed.
"I should do this more often," the Priest replied. "It is good to get in touch with nature."
"It is hard to when you spend months at a time aboard a star cruiser," the Rabbi noted. The others nodded agreement.
After several hours of work, Ezra told them to stop. They took off the robes, now covered in dirt, and helped themselves to water from a nearby fountain. The others listened as the Priest told a story from his time as a missionary.
"So I tried to rehydrate the wine, not knowing that certain microbes in Centari water react explosively to alcohol," he finished, tears of laughter streaming down his face. The others joined him, remembering similar incidents. "I thought they would kill me right there, but they just applauded and laughed. I was a hit!" he added. The Imam nodded vigorously and said, "I know! I know! There was this time on Xandau . . . "
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may?" Ezra interrupted, getting their attention. "The suns have set, making it dangerous to return to town. I suggest you stay in our guest quarters."
"That would be fine," the Bishop replied. "It will give me a chance to tell the rest of you about being the only non- atheist on Apollo Station." The others roared with laughter at the thought.
"That would be fine." Ezra looked at them oddly. "How long have you been together as a group?" The clergy looked at each other before the Bishop replied.
"Just two weeks; the time it took to get here. Why?"
Ezra looked concerned. "The Box will not work unless there are existing empathic connections between people to build on. Most of the people who come here have already spent so much time in conflict with the other that there is enough of a neuronic matrix to work with. In your case, it will take several days of metaconstruction before the Box will work." The clergy looked at each other, considering the situation.
"Really?" the Brahmin asked. Ezra nodded.
"I can offer our facilities for you to spend time with each other. We often have to allow time for empathy to build and construct mental pathways, especially with space keeping some parties apart on different planets. Inverse-square law and all that. You will just require more than average."
"How much time?" the Priest asked. Ezra shrugged. An uncomfortable silence passed.
"Then let's get started," the Imam stated. "I've always wanted to challenge a polytheist to chess." The others laughed and agreed.
"So be it," the Bishop said. "Please show us to our quarters where we may rest."
Ezra breathed a sigh of relief. "Right this way." He led them back through the tunnel. In the main hall, he turned and led them through a maze of halls and rooms. They finally came to a narrow hallway with a dozen small bedrooms on each side. The clergy settled in for the night.
The next morning, the clergy woke. Many prayed while waiting for Ezra. An hour passed before they began to worry.
"Should we do something?" the Imam asked.
"We could send a scout," the Dayan suggested.
"No, this place is a maze and we do not have permission to wander," the Bishop said. "We shall wait." They sat in the hallway and soon began to discuss religious matters. Several distinct conversations sprung up. The Bishop and Imam debated Jesus's teachings. The Rabbi and Brahmin discussed similarities between the roots of their religion. After several hours, Ezra appeared.
"So sorry; I was delayed on other matters and forgot that you did not know the layout," he apologized. "Please follow me for lunch."
After lunch, they mutually agreed to resume their discussions. While heated at some points, they were mostly calm and cordial.
"So what is the difference between a Jew and a Neo-Jew?" the Brahmin asked the Rabbi and Dayan.
"Neo-Judaism extended from the Reconstructionist movement of the twentieth century and the Great Collapse's resulting militarism in the twenty-first," answered the Dayan. "We've modernized the faith and brought it more in line with the needs of humanity."
"They also sacrificed the cornerstone of the Jewish faith," said the Rabbi.
"What's that?" the Brahmin asked.
"He means tradition," the Dayan answered before the Rabbi could reply. "They prefer to follow the old ways of subservient women and sloth on the Sabbath."
"Just because they are old does not mean they are wrong."
"Nor does it mean they are right."
"At least they are ours," the Rabbi countered bitterly. "We don't need to steal from the faiths of the Muslims and Latter-Day Saints."
"Just because they aren't the 'Chosen people' doesn't mean they don't come up with good ideas. We continually update Neo-Judaism with our own ideas and those of others."
"Religion is not computer software, Dayan. Faith does not need upgrades and a version number," said the Rabbi. "We continue to evolve as a people and a faith, only with caution and common sense. At least the Conservative and Reformed Jews remained Jews."
"History progresses too fast for your rate of change, Rabbi," the Dayan replied.
"This arguing is not an answer to the Brahmin's question," the Latter-Day Saint said. A silent moment passed.
"Maybe it is," the Rabbi chuckled. "Arguing is a major part of the Jewish culture. Perhaps the only difference between us and the Neo-Jews is that we forgot that arguing is a better alternative to no discussion at all."
"Believe me, arguing is not limited to Jews," the Bishop said. The others laughed in agreement.
"We all build our faiths on the ideas of others," the Latter-Day Saint said, "whether it's God, prophets or the next-door neighbor."
"I guess the truth is old enough and strong enough to have a few different editions floating around in our minds," the Dayan said.
The conversations continued from there. After a while, many moved from religious matters to more secular issues, like literature and science.
In the evening, Ezra suggested games to connect the representatives on a more social level. The Imam got his wish and played a game of chess with the Brahmin. At night, they returned to their bedrooms.
The next three days continued in the same manner. They spent the day talking, gaming and debating. At one point, they even returned to the garden and did an afternoon's work.
Every evening, the Bishop would ask Ezra if they had connected enough.
"No, you need a little more," was Ezra's reply.
On the fifth day, Ezra led them into a small room with a circular table in the center. Twenty chairs lined the table. A black cube rested on the middle of the table, thin cylinders extending out toward each chair.
"Please have a seat, ladies and gentlemen," Ezra said. "Welcome to the Humanity Box."
"Where are our people?" the Bishop asked. Ezra pointed up to where the other representatives looked down upon the room behind thick glass.
"So this is it," the Imam muttered. One by one, the clergy sat in chairs. Ezra went over to a bank of electronic controls on the wall.
"Prepare yourselves," Ezra cautioned and pressed a button.
A bright blue beam leaped out to each representative. The light grew in intensity. A heavy pulsing filled the room, as if the room were in a human heart. A second beam, bright red, joined the blue one. The cube emitted more beams until the entire spectrum was represented. The clergy, both at the table and above, looked stunned.
Electric bolts flew between the clergy. A steady whine started and increased in frequency. And then it stopped.
The clergy looked around in amazement. The room had returned to its normal state in less than a second.
"Was that it?" the Rabbi asked in amazement. The others looked around, smiled growing on their faces. They looked at each other and saw dear friends. They all wanted to speak but had nothing to say.
"I will show you out," Ezra said. He guided them outside, where the Old Ones had already taken the junior representatives.
The other clergy rushed up to meet the seniors. After countless questions which they could not answer, they turned to Ezra.
"How do you do it?" the Bishop asked. "After all these thousands of years of incurable disagreement between people, how did you find this secret? How did you make me love those who I considered adversaries?"
"It is no secret, just human nature. I made you do nothing," Ezra replied.
"Then why do I feel different?" the Brahmin asked.
"Do you really feel different after the box, or after the last few days?" Ezra asked. "The lights are merely an effect, a trick of technology. The Humanity Box knows only one magic: your own human nature." He smiled.
"And our neuronic matrix? The metaconstruction of empathic connections?" asked the Dayan, smiling with skepticism.
"Tricks of the thesaurus," Ezra answered. "A little modern flair to put a new face on the oldest truth."
"How can it be that simple?" the Imam asked.
"How can it be any more complex?" asked Ezra. The Imam just nodded slowly.
The seniors quickly found them surrounded by the questioning faces of their companions. The bedlam of excited discussion rose to a massive level. As the story of the seniors' experience slowly came out, Ezra and the Old Ones went back inside. A brief flight of stairs brought them to a window overlooking the crowd of clergy. Ezra sighed.
"This appears to be your first big success," one of the Old Ones said, pulling back his hood. The others followed.
"And I did it without flashy pyrotechnics and plagues," Ezra said.
"Different times require different measures, Ezra," the Old One replied. "Burning bushes won't impress people who travel between stars."
"Nor will bread and fishes," another said. "You certainly had your work cut out for you. Of course, you haven't achieved the same level of popularity I did."
"It took you a hundred years and your own death to build up support," pointed out a third. "I established an empire in my lifetime."
"Your rampage through the Arabian desert hardly won the hearts of the world," the second replied.
"Enough," said a fourth. "This is a small but good beginning for our latest member."
Ezra continued to stare out at the crowd. The group was just beginning to walk down the road to town, the conversation still at full. Ezra noticed that the patchwork quilt of different religious garbs had swirled like paint, forming a mosaic of belief.
"A very good start," he said quietly. His eyes followed the humans' progress down the road until they disappeared over the horizont.