Tom nodded and the couples all rose and separated at the door. “Where are we going?” Illoia asked, having to almost run to catch up with Tom, who had turned, not toward their room, but toward the Navy territory.
“To the preparation room,” he said, which made her none the wiser.
The navy rating at the door between the territories saluted Tom and let them pass without even a slight frown. Illoia hurried after Tom, who seemed lost in thought, until he came to a room which, too, had a rating in front of it.
The door opened and Tom stepped in, and slowed, his humming changing slightly. Illoia glanced around. The room was largely empty except for a commander and a chaplain, who were chatting together near a table where some finger food was laid out.
The chaplain, finishing some point he was making to the commander, glanced around and saw Tom, smiled, and came over. “Oh, good, you are here,” he said. “What will be your text this morning? I wish to prepare the Psalms.”
“I will be speaking on Matthew 22:15-21,” Tom said. “And bringing in the example of Daniel. I would think that Psalm 2 might be appropriate.”
“Psalm 2…? Oh, yes, I see.” He mused for a few seconds, “I was also hoping to use Psalm 127 and 128,” he said. “Or Psalm 45?”
“Those would all fit well,” Tom said.
“All of them? Very good. Well, I will let the choir know. Popular Psalms, shouldn’t be a problem.”
The chaplain turned away, fiddling with his comp, and Illoia leaned into Tom, whispering. “Are you speaking this morning?”
“Yes,” he said. “It is traditional on a Navy ship to have the highest rank give the Sabbath morning sermon. The chaplain will speak this evening.”
“You didn’t speak on the other ship,” she said. “I’m sure I would have remembered.”
“No. While crewed by the navy it was considered a ‘mixed’ ship by their tradition, and thus the chaplain corps handled the entire Sabbath program.”
“And, indeed, he will handle it all except the main sermon, this morning. And if I had wished I could merely have given a short homily and let the chaplain handle the sermon. That, too, is their tradition. Many an Admiral has no desire to give a full sermon.”
“But you didn’t want want that?”
“No.”
He said nothing more, but returned to his hum, while Illoia mused on this. Her father led their family worship, as was only proper. Which, given the size of their household, was practically a church in itself. And he would be asked to speak, frequently, when they visited other churches. But usually he would, as Tom said, merely give a short homily. Or sometimes not so short, depending on why they were there. But she couldn’t remember his ever being asked to give the main sermon.
The door behind her open and she saw the captain and his wife coming in. The captain’s wife saw her at the same time, and the two lasses went toward each other. “Mrs. Tomirosh!” the captain’s wife said, managing to speak just before Illoia got her mouth open.
The two exchanged greetings and kissed, Illoia feeling very awkward. She had known who she was as a governor’s daughter; being a hero’s wife was still new to her.
“So, well, I would like to ask you how you are enjoying your trip, but, really, the quarters you are in! I asked my husband if something couldn’t be done and he hemmed and hawed something about tradition and army ranks and all. But I’m sure if your husband were to ask him we could get you bigger quarters in our part of the ship!”
“Well, if it isn’t Army tradition I don’t think you will get him to ask,” Illoia said. “I am very, very new to this, but that seems to be a very powerful word.”
“Oh, yes, in the Navy too. Everything that isn’t written down in the manual is still covered by some kind of tradition. Not child birth, praise the creator; but seemingly everything else.”
Illoia laughed with her, and the two were soon comparing notes about planets they had visited and people they had met. They were joined a few minutes later by several other officer’s wives. Altho not by any as low as leaders, Illoia noted.
“Gentlemen, Ladies,” Illoia heard, eventually, and everyone turned to the door where a naval rating had just entered, his comp raised. “If you would form a line, please, in this order…”
He called out various names and the men, and their wives, went forward and formed a line. The rank of the men concerned got higher and higher until, finally he said, “Leader Cladin Tomirosh,” and Tom and Ill walked forward, arm in arm.
The naval rating led them down the hallway and back into the dining room, where everyone was standing, and every man was saluting.
Illoia had been to any number of formal events where all eyes were on ‘her’ party, but she still found her heart racing and her palm getting sweaty as she realized that she was the wife of, not the daughter of, the most important person in the room.
Finally she and Tom reached their seats, front, right next to the Aisle on the right hand side, and all hands snapped down.
“We will be begin our service with a Psalm,” the chaplain said, from where he had been standing in front of the altar at the front of the room. Our choir will lead us in Psalm 127…”
The wall behind the altar lit up with a view of the choir, the cantor gave the notes and, seconds later, Illoia opened her mouth to sing…
And was so startled that she almost lost her place. The men around her were singing so loud! And all in their parts, almost as if they were part of the choir! Her husband was singing the baritone part, and so loud, and so, well serious!
She recovered and continued to wonder at their singing through song after song, interspersed with Bible readings and prayers from various officers, all still standing, and then, finally Tom was asked to the front of the room.
“You may be seated,” he said. “Our text this morning is, as we have just heard, Matthew 22:15-21…”
Illoia opened her comp to the text…
Then went the Pharisees, and took counsel how they might entangle him in his talk.
And they sent out unto him their disciples with the Herodians, saying, Master, we know that thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man: for thou regardest not the person of men.
Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto Caesar, or not?
But Jesus perceived their wickedness, and said, Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites?
Shew me the tribute money. And they brought unto him a penny.
And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription?
They say unto him, Caesar's. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's.
When they had heard these words, they marvelled, and left him, and went their way.
…and opened her notepad to take notes. Her father always questioned them on the sermon and she couldn’t imagine this strict new husband could be any different.
“This text represents a foundational understanding of our relationship with both God and the dictator,” Tom said. “And, indeed, the relationship between God and the dictator.”
“Let us note, first, that the gap between the two powers noted in this text is infinitely large. What we owe the dictator is finite, and indeed small; as Christ represents it with but a small coin.”
“However what we owe the creator is infinitely large; as related in Genesis where we learn that we, ourselves, are made in the image of God. Thus we owe the dictator a coin, and we owe the Almighty our very lives.”
“Secondly let us note what Christ does not say, but implies, here. For it was not merely his audience, but ‘Cesear’ the dictator himself which was made ‘in the image of God’.”
“But an analysis of this text does not stop there. For while we are all made in the image of God, and while we owe the dictator the coin of our physical obedience in his realm, we are created by God via the means of parents.”
“Let us not forget that God Himself does not hesitate to use the term ‘Father’ to refer to Himself, nor does Christ hesitate to claim the title of ‘Son’.”
I refer each of you to the Articles which govern our civic lives. What is Article I? How does it read? He paused and recited with the entire group, ‘The Jurisdiction of God shall be everywhere respected. His name shall not be taken in vain, nor His worship prohibited.’
The dictator himself recognises that the first authority, the authority under which all authorities lies, is that of God.
And Article 2? How does it read? ‘The jurisdiction of the family shall be everywhere respected. It is the duty of every man and lass to breed and bear children to the extent possible. The authority of the husband, wife, and father of a family shall be sacred.’
Illoia shivered slightly as she and the audience repeated the article along with Tom. She had never heard the articles used during worship before, and such solemn readings were usually reserved, in her experience, for executions.
“There too, the dictator recognizes his own limits. It is only with the third article that he claims his own power. Before that he recognizes the authority of first the Almighty, and then the family.”
“As we move through this week, with so many of you in new roles, and so many of us going to the front, where we will be offering up our lives in service to our state, let us remember who it is to whom we owe our services, and which of these comes first.”
“Nor is this principle missing in our military service…”
An hour later Tom abruptly stopped, nodded and sat down. The chaplain, seeming surprised, got to his feet and, waving to the audience, they all rose and finished with Psalm 98.
Thank you for reading Von’s Substack. I would love it if you commented! I love hearing from readers, especially critical comments. I would love to start more letter exchanges, so if there’s a subject you’re interested in, get writing and tag me!
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Thanks again, God Bless, Soli Deo gloria,
Von
Links
Article 17 is a military science fiction story with aliens and romance. It is set in a future reminiscent of Napoleon era Britain. The war was going very poorly until the military installed a dictator. This story follows one of the dictator’s great men: Cladin Tomirosh, Leader, and thrice decorated hero.
Intro // Podcast Version
She was pretty, popular, snobby, and a planetary governor’s daughter. He was the son of shopkeepers, a social misfit, and a decorated hero. She thought she was there to dance. He had other ideas.
A Dance // Podcast Version
As a governor’s daughter, Illoia usually avoided such events, but when the captain made the announcement that there was to be an Article 17 dance, she, too, was forced to attend. If only the scum hadn’t been there too.
The Unbridgeable Chasm // Podcast Version
Eukles and Meriones, brave military leaders, quail at the idea of crossing the gulf between themselves and asking a lass to dance.
There He Is // Podcast Version
The young hero comes in, and Aleshia and Illoyia gossip about him.
Look at the Young Hero // Podcast Version
The young hero comes in, and greets Eukles and Meriones… and announces his intentions.
Target // Podcast Version
Tom, Leader Cladin Tomirosh, sets his sights on the governors daughter. She isn’t impressed.
Fuming // Podcast Version
Tom and Illoia dance, while she desperately tries to get him to go away!
Now’s Our Chance! // Podcast Version
Eukles and Meriones use Tom and Illoia as a distraction and stalk their own girls.
To Slap or Not to Slap // Podcast Version
Meriones introduces himself to his new wife with a slap on the backside.
No Sane Man // Podcast Version
Illoia insults the young hero, and he proposes.
Never You, Darling // Podcast Version
Illoia finds herself unable to turn down his proposal.
A Wild Dance // Podcast Version
Illoia finds being Tom’s Consented Wife hard… with wild New Irish dances and immodest ones.
Registered // Podcast Version
A new marriage is registered. All hail the dictator!
Middy’s Got a Lass! // Podcast Version
Medinia is deliriously happy… she got 17d!
A Duel to the Death // Podcast Version
Illoia wakes up next to her new husband.
A Dowry // Podcast Version
As it turns out, Illoia brings some money into the marraige.
Fitting // Podcast Version
Even soldiers wives have to wear the uniform.
Message // Podcast Version
So, about telling her father. It’s not going to be easy.
Training // Podcast Version
Even soldiers wives have to learn how to shoot aliens.
The Captain // Podcast Version
So, about telling the governor about the marriage you allowed on your ship, Sir…
Presentation // Podcast Version
The absolute last chance to get an Article 17 wife, with everyone all lined up and shaking hands and no real time to talk…
Ma, Pa, Squeakers // Podcast Version
Imagine sending a tick tock message to your family telling them you are married.
Yee Haw // Podcast Version
Illoia is shocked to find that Tom considers his social responsibilities at a weird eating joint.
New Ship // Podcast Version
Telling the Governor // Podcast Version
Aleshia rides down on a shuttle, takes an aircar to the governors mansion, and gets to face his temper.
Hardship // Podcast Version
Marja is finding marriage very hard. Not her husband, just… life.