Reverend Roy projected his voice, filling the church. People congregated so thick, the building might buckle.

"I know why you came here, my children. You're weary. Beaten. Tired. Raise your hand if that's true."

Most hands in the room shot up.

"I know it, boys and girls. I feel your pain. You thought this land was ripe with opportunity. You heard from the naysayers, that hardly anyone strikes it rich, but in your head you said, naw, I'm smarter than all them. In your heart you said, naw, I got more grit. I'm going to be a tycoon. How many you thought that?"

Hands sprung back up.

"But you got here and realized—you were lied to."

Roy paced across the stage, for a dramatic pause before returning to the pulpit. "The opportunity already dried up. They stole your chance. All that's left is hard work. That's why you and your ancestors left Terra. To get away from the corruption, the hate, the megacorporations and their slave labor."

Roy stood besides the pulpit, as if standing besides himself.

"But Reverend Roy, I ain't from Terra. I's born here on Rubrum. Well, I pity your poor soul, child, because you was born dry and thirsty and you've never been quenched, has you? Raise your hand if your heart feels dry as dust inside."

Hands shot up, but not everyone participated. A frowning farmer kept his head down. A rebel. Roy would deal with him yet.

"I used to reside in Coprates. Lived there a while, before the settlement fell to the wayside. You don't think I know ruin? I woke up one day and practically everyone around me was dead. I fled. Just ran. Didn't know where I was going or why. I had no direction. But I know now the King summoned me. Lead me deep into the canyon, through the winding Noctis Labyrinthus. And it was there he showed me something that changed my life forever, and made me the man I am today. More on that later. But first..."

Roy singled out the rebellious farmer with his pointer finger, the one trying not to draw attention to himself. "Stand up sir. Tell me your name."

"Moe."

"Moe, I noticed you didn't raise your hand earlier. You ain't dry on the inside?"

Moe shook his head.

Oh. A doubter. Roy would break him here in front of everyone. Or later after service. Either way.

"Explain yourself, boy."

His adam's apple bounced as he swallowed. "I till the soil. I plant my seeds. I water 'em. They grow. It's an honest living. I don't always get the full crop I was hoping for, but I have enough to get by. At the end of the day I'm happy enough."

Roy smiled but shook his head. "Moe, Moe, Moe." He paused, letting his judgement fall on Moe, letting him feel the subtle shift in the room, as hundreds of eyes burned into him from all sides. "They got your mind clouded, my child. Just as cloudy as the Great Dust Storm that never ceases. The only reason you happy Moe, is because you don't know any better. Do you know any better Moe?"

He waited for the question to trigger Moe's brain. As the man's mind searched for a response, Roy abruptly shifted the conversation, interrupting the man's thought process, but leaving his mind in an open, inquiring state. "I can sense you lost someone dear to you. You lost anyone Moe?"

Moe hesitated, then said, "Yeah."

"Who?"

"A daughter."

"When?"

"Bout nine years back."

"How?"

"She got sick."

"You ever heard of a tycoon getting sick, or their kids getting sick?"

"No."

"You ever heard of medicare?"

"I know a little about it."

"Back on Terra, just about everyone got health care. You know, they coulda saved your daughter. But nobody told you that, huh? They kept that to themselves. And you just sucked it up and dealt with it. Does it pain you to know that your daughter didn't have to die?"

The man shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Yeah."

"How much do you miss her?"

He watched as the man stared off, into the past, probably recalling his daughter's smile or the way she laughed. The tears welled up.

He broke Moe.

Roy had to grip the pulpit, dig his sharp fingernails into the wood, just to keep from beaming. He pulled on a mask of sorrow, sorrow for Moe and his pitiful state. "I hate to bring up the thing that pains you most, friend. I really do. But I speak the truth, and as much as I want you to feel right, I can't let you go on thinking they never wronged you."

He turned back to the congregation now. "There's a Moe inside every one of us. We want to believe we're alright, that this is as good as life can be. We have to, especially when we lose something. And we all lost something dear to us. A family member or a friend. Crops. Even a job. But my friends, you can't claim what's yours by right if you don't realize they took it from you in the first place. Can I get an amen?"

"Amen," said the congregates in unison.

"You can't truly be happy unless you deal with your inner pain. Amen?"

"Amen."

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"And you can't deal with your pain unless you know who to blame. Amen?"

This time it was shouted. "Amen!"

"And who's to blame?"

"Terra," shouted one man.

"Tycoons," shouted a woman.

Roy held up a hand for silence. Then counted names on each finger. "Terrans. Tycoons. Tall talebearers. Turncoats. Traitors."

His fingers folded, clenching into a fist. "They're all the same. They may have left Terra behind, they may even look like Rubruns, but their insides are Terran, down to the core. Their mind doesn't see truth. It rejects it. And they want you to reject it too. And by rejecting the truth forcing lies on you, they seed their Terran mind in you."

He stepped past the pulpit, down the steps, past Moe. "Stay standing, Moe, if you don't mind." He swiveled his head slow, gauging his congregation. "Did you know, you could be born on Rubrum, but still have a Terran mind? Did you know you could be born on Terra, but come to Rubrum with a free mind, be a true Rubrun? See, it ain't about where you born. It's about your heart and your mind. That's all the King asks for. Your mind.

"I know things they want to keep from you. I know things even they don't know, knowledge they wouldn't understand.

"The electric apostles think they know truth," Roy spat. "But those lunatics worship a dead scientist."

He shook his fist in the air.

"If you want to know the truth, the King will give you truth. Just as he gave me, and only me. You ain't going to find this knowledge anywhere else. The King says I can give it freely, but only for a short window of opportunity. And I can't just give it to anyone. You have to want it with all your heart. If even a little bit of your resolve falters, he'll see the weakness."

Roy raised both hands. "And say it with me." In unison they cried an oft recited rubric. "The King hates weakness."

He slid back up to the pulpit. "Now I know you's strong. You wouldn't be alive on Rubrum if you weren't. Tell me you're strong."

"We strong."

"Tell me you believe, children."

"We believe."

Roy's eyelids closed. He exhaled a worn breath. "The King senses some here still have a Terran mind. Moe, step up here."

As the farmer came up, Roy encouraged the herd to give him a round of applause.

"I suspect boy, that you wouldn't be here if you wasn't strong. Are you strong?"

"I am strong."

"Say it louder."

"I strong."

"Yell it."

"I STRONG."

"But Moe, you got a Terran mind. It's clouded. You want to remain in the dark?"

"No."

"You buried the pain of your daughter's death. But I know it's still down there. Do you want me to heal your pain?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to be happy and know the truth?"

"I want truth."

Roy turned to the crowd, his mouth full of sharp, gleaming teeth. "Y'all wanna see me free Moe's mind?"

The crowd applauded.

"I said, y'all wanna see a miracle take place today?"

They clambered to their feet, hooting and clapping all the more.

Roy queued the electric organ player, Himura, who struck up a slow, methodical, yet inspirational chord progression.

Roy lifted his hands and raised them towards the stars. "King of the chasm. Lord of the labyrinth. Sultan of sulphur, I plead. Cleanse this poor boy's soul. Wipe away Moe's pain. Make him see your truth."

Roy reached inside his suit, pressing his fingers against his medallion. His fingertip traced the yellow sign and his hands grew warm. Without warning his palms shone with amber light. The crowd gasped. Himura's fingers summoned frantic notes and chord changes from the organ as they glided up and down the keys. The light in the church dimmed as if all of it were being sucked into a vortex centered in Roy's hands.

He had to yell above the organ and the herd. "Do you believe, boy?"

"Yes."

Roy snatched Moe's head, resting his glowing thumbs in Moe's eyes. Moe resisted, but Roy held fast. The skin underneath Roy's fingers turned white. Moe let out a scream like person caught in the afterburn of a rocketship. Roy released Moe who slumped to the floor. Ushers moved to revive him, but Roy held them back with a look.

Moe surged to his feet. He stood erect, taller than he had before, shoulders thrown back, oozing confidence. But his eyes said it all. They blazed with sulphurous yellow light.

"What dost thou see?"

"I see him, the King in Yellow. I see. I see!"

Moe raised his hands, reaching for the throne of the King that only he could see in his mind, and his feet left the ground a whole meter.

A woman broke the awestruck silence. "He's levitating!"

The crowd swelled as if struck by a current.

People screamed. Some fainted. Others foamed at the mouth. None remained still.

The light in Moe's eyes faded like dying embers, and he sank slowly back to the stage, then passed out on. Roy let the ushers remove him as Himura made the organ soar. Roy reveled in the spell that overpowered the herd, and he howled.