the same strand, before delivering a complex list of dates, times, names and anecdotes that would have taken days of investigation before it was discovered that it made no sense at all.
'They were very nice,' Miller said afterwards, as they picked their way amongst the huts towards the refectory, a large, newly constructed building a stone's throw from the cathedral.
'When you say nice, do you mean prying, interfering, compulsive control freaks?'
Miller looked at him, puzzled. 'No. Nice. They were nice. Didn't you think they were nice?'
'I worry about you, Miller. You're going to be the first person ever to die of unadulterated optimism.'
Miller sighed. 'I don't know why you came here, Mallory. We're going to be part of something big and good. Something important. All you've done is criticise. You're a cynic.'
'You say that as if it's a bad thing.'
'Look, there's Daniels.' Miller nodded towards the knight sauntering ahead of them; he carried himself with confidence, seemingly above the bustle he passed. Mallory noted how many looked at Daniels with respect, if not awe; was it the uniform or the person? 'Come on, let's catch him up,' Miller continued.
'So how long have you been here, Daniels?' Miller asked as he skipped up beside him.
'Two months.' He eyed Miller's skittishness wryly. 'It was this or the circus.'
'That must be when the call first went out. Where were you?'
Daniels looked bemused at Miller's effervescent questioning. 'Bristol.'
'I heard some of the cities were tough in the early days,' Mallory said.
A shadow crossed Daniels' face. 'It was, in some parts, for a while. The riots had died out by the time the call filtered through - no one had the energy left. But there were still some parts of the city you didn't go into, if you know what I mean.' He looked across the huts at the darkening sky.
Daniels had an impressive charisma that underscored his bearing. Mallory could imagine him in his civilian days, well groomed, wearing expensive, fashionable clothes, maybe in some professional job; maybe a lawyer.
'How are you finding it?' Miller had such a bright-eyed-puppy manner that Daniels couldn't help but lighten.
'Hard, but rewarding.' He smiled. 'You'll enjoy it here.'
'Any missions yet?'
'No, but it's only a matter of time. They want to be sure before they send anyone out there.'
'What made you come?' Mallory asked.
'You don't think I came out of obligation? An overarching desire to give something back to Christianity? To the world?' Daniels eyed Mallory as if he knew exactly what was going through the new arrival's head.
'Don't mind him,' Miller said. 'He's just an old cynic.'
'No,' Mallory replied. 'I don't.'
Daniels shrugged in an unconcerned way. 'My partner was killed in the fighting. We'd been together for a while. It left ... a big hole.' He chose his words carefully. 'There was nothing for me in Bristol. I thought there might be something for me here.'
'I'm sorry,' Miller said. 'Were you planning on getting married?'
'Gareth was the religious one,' Daniels said directly to Mallory. 'He was the one who went to church every week. I could take it or leave it. But he died with such dignity. Faith right up to the last. That was my moment of epiphany.'
'That's a good enough reason,' Mallory said.
With some land of unspoken agreement made amongst them, they set off together for the refectory.
'You don't seem much of a Christian, Mallory,' Daniels noted wryly.
'I'm not much of anything.'
'Yes, he is,' Miller said brightly. 'He just doesn't know it yet.' He proceeded to tell Daniels how Mallory had saved him.
'Self-preservation,' Mallory said. 'Two were a better defence against those things.'
'Pants on fire,' Miller gibed.
They joined the queue filing into the refectory. The aroma of spiced hot food floated out into the cooling twilight, setting their stomachs rumbling. The air was filled with the hubbub of optimistic voices, the sound of people who still couldn't believe they were getting a square meal.
'Tell me,'
'They were very nice,' Miller said afterwards, as they picked their way amongst the huts towards the refectory, a large, newly constructed building a stone's throw from the cathedral.
'When you say nice, do you mean prying, interfering, compulsive control freaks?'
Miller looked at him, puzzled. 'No. Nice. They were nice. Didn't you think they were nice?'
'I worry about you, Miller. You're going to be the first person ever to die of unadulterated optimism.'
Miller sighed. 'I don't know why you came here, Mallory. We're going to be part of something big and good. Something important. All you've done is criticise. You're a cynic.'
'You say that as if it's a bad thing.'
'Look, there's Daniels.' Miller nodded towards the knight sauntering ahead of them; he carried himself with confidence, seemingly above the bustle he passed. Mallory noted how many looked at Daniels with respect, if not awe; was it the uniform or the person? 'Come on, let's catch him up,' Miller continued.
'So how long have you been here, Daniels?' Miller asked as he skipped up beside him.
'Two months.' He eyed Miller's skittishness wryly. 'It was this or the circus.'
'That must be when the call first went out. Where were you?'
Daniels looked bemused at Miller's effervescent questioning. 'Bristol.'
'I heard some of the cities were tough in the early days,' Mallory said.
A shadow crossed Daniels' face. 'It was, in some parts, for a while. The riots had died out by the time the call filtered through - no one had the energy left. But there were still some parts of the city you didn't go into, if you know what I mean.' He looked across the huts at the darkening sky.
Daniels had an impressive charisma that underscored his bearing. Mallory could imagine him in his civilian days, well groomed, wearing expensive, fashionable clothes, maybe in some professional job; maybe a lawyer.
'How are you finding it?' Miller had such a bright-eyed-puppy manner that Daniels couldn't help but lighten.
'Hard, but rewarding.' He smiled. 'You'll enjoy it here.'
'Any missions yet?'
'No, but it's only a matter of time. They want to be sure before they send anyone out there.'
'What made you come?' Mallory asked.
'You don't think I came out of obligation? An overarching desire to give something back to Christianity? To the world?' Daniels eyed Mallory as if he knew exactly what was going through the new arrival's head.
'Don't mind him,' Miller said. 'He's just an old cynic.'
'No,' Mallory replied. 'I don't.'
Daniels shrugged in an unconcerned way. 'My partner was killed in the fighting. We'd been together for a while. It left ... a big hole.' He chose his words carefully. 'There was nothing for me in Bristol. I thought there might be something for me here.'
'I'm sorry,' Miller said. 'Were you planning on getting married?'
'Gareth was the religious one,' Daniels said directly to Mallory. 'He was the one who went to church every week. I could take it or leave it. But he died with such dignity. Faith right up to the last. That was my moment of epiphany.'
'That's a good enough reason,' Mallory said.
With some land of unspoken agreement made amongst them, they set off together for the refectory.
'You don't seem much of a Christian, Mallory,' Daniels noted wryly.
'I'm not much of anything.'
'Yes, he is,' Miller said brightly. 'He just doesn't know it yet.' He proceeded to tell Daniels how Mallory had saved him.
'Self-preservation,' Mallory said. 'Two were a better defence against those things.'
'Pants on fire,' Miller gibed.
They joined the queue filing into the refectory. The aroma of spiced hot food floated out into the cooling twilight, setting their stomachs rumbling. The air was filled with the hubbub of optimistic voices, the sound of people who still couldn't believe they were getting a square meal.
'Tell me,'
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