Chapter 1
Crispin Dogood, a lanky teenager with blond hair and piercing blue eyes, stood before the mirror, examining his reflection. He practiced a confident smile and a firm handshake, then straightened his tie and adjusted his collar. The adjustments felt futile; no amount of tugging could hide the fact that these were hand-me-down clothes. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. If only he could go shopping like the people in the forbidden books he’d discovered in the hidden room. But those luxuries had been wiped clean during the Great Cleansing a century ago. Now, the only remnants of the “Old World” were locked within the walls of Salvation One, the only sanctuary left on Earth that could still support life.
“Vanity is a sin,” his mother, Sarah, said. The sound of her voice startled him from his thoughts.
“I was only thinking about God’s plan for me, Mother, Crispin replied quickly.
Before Sarah could respond, a violent coughing fit overtook her. The raspy echoes bounced off the walls of the dimly lit room. Crispin rushed to her side, guiding her to a chair. He watched her with a tightening chest; she was suffering from “The Raspy,” a mysterious illness plaguing the faithful. He wanted to ask why, but in Salvation One, it was strictly prohibited to question God’s will.
Sarah opened a delicate satchel filled with dried rosemary and inhaled deeply. She swore by the herb, though Crispin remained unconvinced. It felt like an eternity before she caught her breath.
“It’s pointless to ponder that which is out of your control,” she wheezed. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll be late for your Last Day.”
Last Day, and the impending Day of Calling were joyous occasions for most, but they weighed on Crispin like lead. He feared the test, and more importantly, the consequences for his family if he were found wanting. In this world, there was no greater sin than being “found wanting” in the eyes of the Almighty.
Tomorrow, all eighteen-year-olds would be tested to determine their lifelong profession, their devotion to God, and their social status within the Patriarchy. The ritual was grueling: test all day, a grand feast followed by a night of prayer, and finally, sleep within the Tubs of Divine Light. If you remained in the tube when it is opened the next morning, you were blessed. If the tube was empty, it meant God had found you wanting and sent you to hell.
Crispin wasn’t just afraid for himself; he was afraid for his mother. If he were found lacking, an inquiry would be launched. The Elders would scrutinize Sarah’s life to find the root of his failure. With her illness, they might decide “The Raspy was a divine punishment for her poor parenting. The best she could hope for was forced re-education; the worst was banishment to the Sisters of Disappointment.
The Sisters were shadows-women doing eternal penance for their “failings.” Dressed in heavy black veils, they worked the manual labor of Salvation One in total silence, their faces never to be seen again.
Then there was the other path: the “blessing.” If Crispin passed, he would be given a house and a wife. He would be expected to produce an heir within two years. If he failed that, his wife would face the Elders. This was where his secret lived-a dark, heavy attraction to his own sex. He knew that in the eyes of the law, the man was never to blame for a barren womb, but the guilt of running an innocent woman’s life felt like its own kind of damnation.
He thought of Kaleb, a boy a year older who was like him. Kaleb was so sure he would be fine, but on his morning, the tube was empty.
“Stop worrying,” Stephine, Crispin’s best friend, said as they walked toward the temple. “You can’t help liking dick anymore than I like pussy.”
“Keep it down!” Crispin hissed, darting his eyes around.
“I’m just saying, it’s not like we haven’t tried to fix it,” Stephine shrugged. “How long did we spend looking at each other naked?”
“Too long,” Crispin muttered.
“And nothing. Not even a tingle. Look on the bright side,” she said, nudging him with her elbow, “you get to masturbate with a bunch of guys today.”
In the theology of Salvation One, men were required to “strengthen” their genital muscles through regular masturbation to ensure successful impregnation. For women, however, the act was a vile sin, thought to “soil the vessel.” Today’s Last Day ritual would end with a communal bathing for purification and a final masturbation session.
“May the divine blessing of our Lord be upon you,” Crispin said as he crossed the threshold of the temple of Light.
“And also with you,” the Page of Faith replied. “Crispin, Elder Woods requires a word with you in his chambers before you begin.”
Crispin’s heart hammered. “Do you think they know?” he whispered to Stephine.
“Stop worrying,” she repeated, though her eyes betrayed a flash of concern as she headed to her own classroom.
Crispin had never been to the upper levels. The opulence was staggering, spacious rooms and heavy, luxurious fabrics that made these hand-me-down clothes feel even scratchier. Elder Woods stood waiting. He was a tall, charismatic man with dark hair and a smile that seemed to radiate heat.
“My dear boy,” Woods said, stepping forward to embrace him. “I can’t believe it’s time for your Calling. I remember your parents presenting you to the congregation as if it were yesterday.”
“My father often speaks of that day,” Crispin said, keeping his voice steady. “If that’s all I need to get to class.”
“I apologize for pulling you from your studies,” Woods said, “but I would like to offer you a gift. You shall perform your purification with me.
There were a few high honors given in Salvation One, and a purification bath with an Elder was one of them. Usually given to those with a high social standing.
Crispin blinked, bewildered. “Me?”
“Don’t be so surprised. Your family is in excellent standing, and your own academic record is exemplary. You have the potential for greatness, with God’s help.”
“I do it all for His glory, not mine,” Crispin said, the rehearsed line sliding off his tongue. He was terrified this was a trap.
“Of course you do. Now, let us start by breaking bread.”
Crispin couldn’t get over the amount of food on the table in the formal dining room. It was enough to feed his entire class. He was happy to see wine on the table and hoped it would help to ease his nerves.
The meal took several hours to finish, including reading the Holy Scripture and prayers. It was mostly the same kind of things he would’ve been doing in class, and it was clearly a test. If this was the only part Crispin would’ve been okay, but the bath was what worried him the most.
In the privacy of his room, he had often fantasized about Elder Woods. Now, in a few short minutes, the man would be naked just inches away from him. His first instinct was to bolt, but in Salvation One, there was nowhere to hide.
The ritual bathing room was a cathedral of black marble, shimmering in candlelight and thick with the scent of incense. Attendants were finishing the preparation of the massive tub, pouring oils into the steaming water with practiced reverence.
“Your preparation room is through that door,” Woods instructed, gesturing toward a side room before heading toward his own.
Crispin fumbled with his buttons, his breath coming in shallow hitches. He waited until he heard the attendants leave and the heavy main door click shut. He didn’t want to be caught naked and sashed for the bath, the scalding water a shock against his chilled skin.
He had just settled into the steam when he heard the rhythmic echo of footsteps. Elder Woods was approaching.
