He woke up on his own, long before the sun would rise. The city was still quiet, still asleep. He could hear its slow, heavy breathing from outside. It sounded like lazy wind, the quiet hum of electricity, and the occasional snore of a taxi moving past the window.

Daniel was always awake before his alarm. He would lay perfectly still, staring at the dark ceiling, until the computer gently announced that it was time to get up. In the darkness he would think of nothing, because the day was destined to be full of too many somethings. He would breathe slowly, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He would pretend to be asleep. Pretend to be absent from this life until the wall across from his bed gradually lit up with the yellow-white of the sun. While the actual star was still well below the city’s horizon, this artificial one would pry his eyes open and he would wait for the voice.

It came to him, low and calming.

"Good morning, sir," it said, echoing from the walls around him.

Daniel grumbled something back to it. Something like, "Good morning, computer."

"How did you sleep last night?" it asked him.

"Fine, thank you."

"I see you didn’t sleep well last night. You experienced a lot of unrest, physically and mentally. Was it a nightmare again?"

"Not that I remember," Daniel Fallgood lied. He pushed back his sheets and sat up on the edge of the bed, wearing the solid black pajamas that covered him from neck to ankles. The material was soft enough for comfort, tight enough that it felt like his own personal sleeping chamber at night. Somehow, it regulated his temperature. He didn’t understand those aspects of things, though. Technological knowledge eluded him, mostly because he was disinterested.

The computer made life easier, though.

"Computer," he said, "would you start my wash, please?"

From the connected bathroom came the sound of water running. He listened to it, his hands propped up on the edge of the bed beside him. His joints ached after sleep now. It was part of the reason he woke up so early. That and the nightmares he hid from the computer. He knew the Order would be keeping an eye on him closely now, especially with the moves he was about to make. Any sign of weakness could mean removal, from either his position or from his life. It did not frighten him and it bothered him very little; he had been the one who made those decisions before. But there was still much to accomplish. He felt confident that he would be around for a long time still. Everything he did was in the name of Tetra, and surely that forgiving God would grant him more time. Besides, he was only in his seventy-first year. He was very young, still, even if his joints were growing tired.

Slowly, he twisted in the bed and went to his knees. He clasped his spindly fingers together and began to pray.

"Lord Tetra," he said, "grant me the strength to get through this day, its moments devoted to you. The decisions I make, however difficult, will come from my faith in your Order. Look with ease upon this race, as your name is in the strength of my hands today and every day. May your wisdom guide the true race to rise above all others. May your strength guide me, your servant, worthy of your trust and humbled in your presence. May your forgiveness save even those who question it. May your might fell those who resist. I offer my life, my love, and my destiny to you, Lord Tetra."

Daniel rose to his feet, his arms shaking as they hoisted his body. His knees popped as he stood, loud enough to echo off the screen wall. Steam now issued from the bathroom. He shuffled across the carpet and into the small room, where he stripped off his pajamas. Like all men, young and old, he stood briefly before the mirror. He was getting older, it seemed, every day. His eyes were further back in his skull, his cheeks deeper than they were yesterday. His slight underbite was more pronounced now. The wrinkles ran from his hairline to his chest.

He was strong, though, for a man of his age. There was still muscle under his skin, more than just bones and flesh. He conceded to the man he now was and stepped into the warm water.

It was here, under the running shower head, where the computer could not hear him, that he prayed again under his breath. As thin streams massaged his scalp, as rivers poured from his thin, white hair down across his closed eyelids, he bowed his head and put one arm against the wash wall.

"Lord Tetra," he said, "I am weaker today than I was yesterday. Not only my body, either. I know I shouldn’t ask you for this, but even an old man has a lot to learn. Please, Lord Tetra, keep her safe. No matter where she is, I know she is under your gaze and I beg you, keep her safe. Her and the boy. Fourteen years is too long for a father to worry, worse still for a husband. I know you can’t grant me the knowledge that they are alive and well, but my faith in you is unshaken. I know that you will give me this, as I have given you so much. I offer my life, my love, and my destiny to you, Lord Tetra."

After his shower, he walked naked into the bedroom. The tall, sleek cabinet across from his bed was filled with his clothing. As he pulled on his underwear, he spoke to the computer.

“Computer,” he said, “remind me what time my meeting with the President begins.”

He barely had time to pull on his white, long-sleeved undershirt before the machine responded.

“The car will arrive to take you to your meeting in approximately one hour,” the computer said. “The President will be waiting for you there.”

Daniel wrapped his long, shining blue sash around his neck so that its ends dangled down his back. He pulled the top of his black gown around his waist. It ended just above his ankles, the mark of Tetra along its bottom fringes. Over the shirt and sash he pulled a loose-fitting black tunic, which tucked seamlessly into the gown.

He felt the confidence filling him again. It happened every morning as he dressed and, like always, he suddenly felt foolish about asking Tetra to keep her safe. It was a trifle in Tetra’s good work. He was too embarrassed, in fact, to ask for forgiveness. Without another word, he pulled on his socks and shoes. The outfit was complete as he slid his fingers into the black gloves that all members of the Order wore. On the pads of each finger were blue marks of the Order, an empty round center with four bent rays coming outward and reaching the inside of a larger circle. Daniel stood straighter now. Looked stronger. Felt holier. He even spoke to the computer differently.

“Computer, you will begin my breakfast now.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 3