Mac watched Isabella's intervention in amazement, and slightly proud. She had seen the Psychologist pass by her as soon as Greta had confronted the sergeant and he let her go, verbally reprimanding the soldiers, and even ripping a first aid kit from the bulletproof vest of one of the Guards, who was wearing the insignia of paramedic, to attend to the attacked man. Fortunately the soldiers were so surprised by her boldness and self-confidence that they didn't dare to stand in her way. Likewise, Meyer's unexpected presence also helped the Guards not to react violently towards Isabella, but she had not even stopped to think about it. She just acted, and thanks to Saito's attentions, when the soldiers put Stefan Wilkins into the patrol car, the wounds caused by the fall had been adequately treated.
Mac was really pained from the sergeant's grip on her arm, but she didn't want to show it too much. She did not want to appear to be the victim in that situation when the real victim had been that man, about whom they knew nothing, and whom they had seen being brutally arrested in the middle of the street. Indignation made her face burn as she watched the soldiers leave, once Greta let them go.
"I don't know who that man would be, or what he would have done, but this was completely unacceptable." Mackenzie turned to Meyer and pointed angrily at the armed group as they walked away. "Not only have they beaten the poor guy, but they haven't even treated him once he was injured. Luckily Isa was able to reach him and give him first aid."
Meyer nodded, her expression deeply embarrassed, fury flashing in her eyes. "Yes... You're right, it is unacceptable, and I must discuss it with the Field Maestre. Today." The clergywoman ran her hand over her face, concerned, as she turned to watch the soldiers walking away. "This can't happen again. And if the Field Maestre doesn't want to listen to me, I'll go to the Magisters, or even to His Holiness." Meyer approached Isabella, and made an exasperated gesture with her arms. "Of course it was completely fair to get angry at that military paramedic. Believe me when I assure you that I'll find out who she is, and I'll recommend that she be formally reprimanded. I know that she's a soldier and has her orders, but as you've said, that doesn't excuse her from having a medical oath, in addition to the military one. She should have intervened as soon as the man fell to the ground. Medical personnel shouldn't have the right to decide who they treat and who they don't."
Mac realized that Isabella was angry, but above all sad about the situation. It was understandable, Saito was a person who obviously didn't mesh well with the military and the often indisputable authority that they exercised over the people, and unfortunately now, under the martial law of the general state of alarm, the Guard had broad powers to act under the excuse of ensuring the security of the settlement. Wilson deeply regretted that Isa's visit had coincided with such a time of tension and lack of control in Faith Haven as that one. It was really bad luck, the Church had never had any problems with anyone since their arrival in Pygar until the conflict with the Corsairs, except for the occasional skirmishes of the Pontifical Guard Navy with hostile Nomad swarms.
Mac approached Isabella as well, still holding her bruised arm, and tried to cheer her up a little. "Well Isa, I think the best thing we can do is leave this in Greta's hands. She will be in charge of speaking with the Guard commander. After all, he's a member of the Government like her, and she is used to having to deal with him, right, Greta?"
Greta nodded with determination. "Certainly, leave it in my hands. The Field Maestre is a stubborn person and often too intransigent, I've already said it several times, but he's not evil. Everything he does is because he believes it's the best for this settlement, but he maintains absolute obedience to the Government. I'm an equal in rank to him and he may not want to listen to me, but he'll have to listen to the Pontiff. And I know with complete certainty that His Holiness will not agree with this type of savage acts."
Mac smiled and winked at the monsignor, then turned to Isa. "Did you know? I also fancy some hot chocolate, I think I need it. I remember that there is a small cafe and cake shop on the parallel street, it has a couple of high tables with stools on the sidewalk. We could detour to rest and recover there."
Meyer nodded vigorously, happy that her friend was lending her a hand in trying to distract her guest from that terrible moment. "Oh yes, I know that place and its owner too. Furthermore I know that they make a pretty decent apple pie, cooked with local, seasonal apples, from our biodome. I think it will be good for all of us."
The three women deviated from their original path and crossed onto the street that ran parallel. Immediately they could see a small establishment at street level, with a purple sign that indicated with gold letters 'Muriel's tea, coffe and pastries. As they approached they could see that the place was really small inside. There was a wood and marble short counter, with an old coffee machine behind it and several exhibitors with cakes and pastries. A half-open door undoubtedly led to the oven and the kitchen, because of the sweet smell of dough that came from there, and outside the counter, in the public area there was barely room for a couple of small wooden tables with two forged iron chairs. Outside on both sides of the storefront, there were also two other wooden tables, although these were tall, and were made so that if desired, they could be used standing up. However, around them each had four high stools of purple padded fabric.
The group entered the place and soon found themselves in front of a plump, middle aged woman that Mac quickly recognized as the owner, Muriel, dressed in a white apron and a cap of the same color, under which she could see her red hair tied up in a bun. At that moment Muriel was pouring hot coffee in a cup to a young woman in a cleric's uniform, with a huge smile.
"Here you are, my dear lady. Be careful, it's very hot!" The owner dedicated a last affectionate gesture to the cleric, who sat at one of the tables inside with her drink, and turned to serve the new customers. "Good evening, my dears, how can I make your life more delicious?" Her accent was clearly Bretonian and her voice was sing-song and melodious, and her face expressed some surprise when she recognized Greta. "Oh, what a pleasant surprise Monsignora Meyer. I haven't seen you here for a long time." Then she looked at Mac and Isa and offered them another warm smile. "Oh, and Dr. Wilson, too, what a lovely and unexpected group. As for you, I don't know who you are, miss, but welcome to my sweet little paradise."
Mac made a friendly gesture to Muriel and took the opportunity to introduce Isabella. "Hello Muriel, I haven't been here for a long time too, but I see that you never forget a face. She is Dr. Saito, a good friend of ours. We were passing by here and felt the need to have a hot chocolate and taste your famous apple pie."
Muriel winked at Wilson happily. "I like my customers to feel like they are in their living room when they come to my humble establishment, and in their living room their families surely don't forget their faces, so I don't do it either." She gave a brief nod towards Saito. "It's a pleasure to meet you doctor." Then she once again scanned the three women's faces with her gaze. "So, what do you want me to serve you? I heard hot chocolate and apple pie?"
"That would be great, Muriel, but please give me coffee instead of chocolate." Greta made a tired gesture. "I still have much of the day ahead of me, and I'm afraid I'll be working until late. I need to stay awake."
The owner nodded. "Two chocolates, a coffee and three slices of apple pie, understood, Monsignora. We just baked a pie two hours ago, and it should be about to finish cooling, so you can probably eat it freshly made." Muriel turned to the half-open door behind her and peered inside. "Amanda! How much is left for that?"
A young woman's voice was heard from the other side of the door. "I'm taking it out now!" The door opened and a girl of about 20 years old, with hair the same shade of red as Muriel, came out to the counter and placed a plate with a large apple pie. "Here I left it for you, mom. I've to go back inside because I've some fritters in the oven..." The young woman looked around and noticed the presence of the group, she blushed, and made a small bow with her dress towards Meyer. "Monsignora, excuse my haste, I had not seen you."
Meyer smiled amused, and blessed her by making the Sacred Gear sign with her fingers. "Don't worry, dear, whether you see me or not, the fritters are still in the oven. Deux forbid they burn, but you better run and take a look at them. Deux be with you, sweetheart." The girl went back into the kitchen, and Meyer adressed to Muriel. "What an impeccable upbringing, your daughter is really nice."
Muriel smiled back, a touch of pride in her eyes. "She is, indeed. There is no daughter more dedicated than her. She helps me a lot here in the pastry shop, even though she has her own job as an operator in one of the factories." A gleam of sadness crossed Muriel's eyes. "Since Nathan died in Gran Canaria... Amanda was just a little girl back then, but if it hadn't been for her, I don't know what I would have done. She has been what has given me back the joy of living. Sometimes I don't really understand how she has been able to move forward being so wonderful, with everything we have been through. Deux has undoubtedly watched over us."
Meyer nodded. "Of course, Deux always takes care of His people, but don't take merit away from yourself. Together you two have come out ahead, and you know what His Holiness says: Deux helps those who help themselves."
The owner bowed her head respectfully. "And blessed be His Holy Name for it." She then walked over to the old coffee machine and began programming it, while also melting ounces of dark chocolate into a small compartment of it, for then add a little condensed cream milk.
The machine looked like it had been manufactured at least 80 years ago. It was large, metal, and quite old-fashioned by the standards that could be found in any cantina on any station of Sirius. However, Mackenzie knew that this machine meant a lot to Muriel, and she would never willingly get rid of it. She knew the story because the owner had told it to her one of the times she had been in the place, and Mac took advantage of the opportunity while Muriel worked to tell it quietly to Saito, in a low voice. The coffee machine had belonged to Nathan's grandfather, who was Muriel's dead husband, who had run a coffee shop in New London. Nathan had inherited the machine, and when he and Muriel had emigrated with little Amanda to Gran Canaria to join the Church, they had brought the machine with them, and had also opened a coffee and cake establishment in the settlement. They had been very happy there, until the Bretonian invasion had destroyed their lives. Muriel and Amanda had had to flee, leaving Nathan's body in Gran Canaria, but the woman had managed to bring the machine with her. It was the greatest memory she had left of that happy and pleasant life with Nathan, and therefore, she would never change it for a new machine, no matter how much better it was.
The owner finished preparing the drinks which she poured into large ceramic cupsands decorated with floral drawings, and cut three generous portions of apple pie, which she served on plates made of the same ceramic as the cups, adding some small forks and knives. She then placed everything on the counter with a splendid smile. "Here you are, my dears. Enjoy it very much, I hope you like it."
Mac and Isabella took the drinks and plates to one of the tables outside while Meyer settled the bill, and then the three women sat on the stools, maintaining a bit of silence while they tasted their drinks. Mac closed her eyes in pure pleasure as she tasted the chocolate. The bitterness of the pure cocoa was perfectly diminished by the little bit of very sweet condensed milk that Muriel had added, and the temperature was perfect. It didn't burn, but a comforting warmth invaded inside her, making her feel immediately better. Then she tasted a piece of the apple pie. It still had a little temperature and was not completely cold. The dough was soft and delicious, and the baked apples with jam on top brought back childhood memories for Mackenzie. After all, she had also been born in Bretonia, and that recipe came from there.
Mac waited for Isabella to eat and drink a little, then turned to her. "I hope you feel a little better now, Isa. I'm very sorry for everything you've had to experience today." The neurologist smiled affectionately at Saito. "I know very well that you are a strong woman, but this was supposed to be a calm visit, and you have found yourself involved in two situations that would stress anyone out." Mac shook her head sadly. "I hate this situation, this uncertainty. It brings back memories of Gran Canaria, when we received the news that the Bretonian fleet was approaching the planet, just before the fighting began. The only difference with that is now I know that ended very badly, so I can have an idea of how this could end if the war breaks out. I wish there was some way to solve this without violence."
Greta made a supportive gesture with her hand. "Yes, and we're facing Corsairs, for the love of Deux." She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Our Church was born in Gamma, and we even know that in Crete there are still many people who believe in Deux. Many others have emigrated and have come here with us. Almost 40% of our population is of Cretan origin." The monsignora shrugged her shoulders, showing how much nonsense it all seemed to her. "All this is absurd. And now they have come here, and they mistreat us, as if we were... I don't know... their enemies. When have we posed a threat to them?" The clergywoman drank some of her coffee. "His Holiness Gregorius told me last year that he wanted to restore relations with the Empire, that he was thinking of asking Magister Orlov to speak to the Corsair Elders to request a trip to Gamma. He wanted to visit the asteroid field where Paolus LXIV's stasis capsule was found after having his Sacred Vision. He also wanted to visit Crete, see the mansion of Elder Miguel Sephardi where our former Pontiff resided before settling in Gran Canaria... They are Holy Places for us, there our Church was born."
"And now, a year later, we're about to enter into a direct confrontation with them, and still no one explains why." Wilson played with her fork, anger in eyes. "My father always told my brother and me when we fought: 'Two don't fight if one doesn't want to'. " Mac smiled, with a little nostalgia and a lot of sadness. "I would like to be able to agree with him, but Gran Canaria was the first example that this isn't true. And now, we're living in our flesh another horrible example that he was wrong."
It took the three women about three quarters of an hour to finish their hot drinks and eating their pies, while they talked about irrelevant matters and relaxed. Although the day had been exhausting and somewhat sad at times, this small interval of rest gave them some strength and encouragement. Meyer got up from the chair and put her feet on the floor, while stretching her back a little. "Well, I don't know about you but even though I'm tired, I think we could finally visit that Cretan fashion store. I think Isabella deserves it, after having endured all the emotions today." Greta looked at Saito. "After that, I think it would be best if we retire to the Pontifical Palace to rest. I still have to try to talk to the Field Maestre about what happened today, and fill out some reports for the Concilium. I hope this coffee I just had lasts me through the rest of my workday, but you two... The best thing you could do is rest." The monsignora pointed to the Psychologist. "Especially you Isa. You haven't stopped for a moment since you arrived this morning and I still remember that you had to pilot here through the storm. You must be exhausted."
The group said goodbye to Muriel and Amanda, carrying their empty plates and cups inside, and then set out for the clothing store. It really didn't take them long to get there, they were almost there when they had turned towards the pastry shop. In a few minutes they found themselves in front of the glass showcase of a store with a large sign above the door that read 'Lola's Fashion'. On another smaller sign, placed right on the door, it was added: 'Custom suits are made.' Mackenzie could see at a glance, as they approached, that several Cretan regional style dresses could be seen displayed through the showcase, some with ruffles at the bottom, or on the shoulders and sleeves, and many of them printed with dark polka dots that contrasted with the bright colors of their fabrics. There were also some exposed fringed shawls, hand-woven. And for the men there were short, tight dark jackets, pants with tight legs reaching below the knee, and some felt sashes, similar to women's shawls. Some straight-brimmed, low-crowned hats made of dark velvet were placed on hangers.
The three women, preceded by Meyer, reached the door and pushed it inside the store. The store was not large, but it was larger than it seemed from the outside. Shirts with floral motifs, polka dots or regional Cretan embroidery were displayed on shelves, as well as plain or pleated skirts in bright colors. On various mannequins it could seen more regional dresses, some with the typical polka dot print, but others less common, with other types of drawings on the fabrics and various trimmings. There was a small counter near the entrance, behind which sat an old lady with genuine Cretan features, sewing the hem of a skirt. She raised her head when she saw them enter, but just smiled and continued with her work, leaving the customers freedom to take a look before attending them.
Mackenzie gestured toward the store that extended far inward, and look to Isabella with an amused smile. "All yours, I hope you find something you like."
