Brother Mine

"See anything yet?"

"Not yet, ma'am. Better chance after we shift this pipe."

"Get it moved then. Tez, help him."

Brother Accrual, who was forbidden from putting himself at unnecessary risk, stood well back from the dust and noise and let the builders do their job. His duties had never before involved collapsed buildings. He did not like the disorder, the decay. But this particular mass of rubble concealed something worth saving. One of their brothers was under there.

Brother Wisdom, who was directing the builders, turned up beside him.

"Brother," Accrual greeted him.

"Elder brother," Wisdom responded after a perfunctory nuzzle. "He's definitely under this side?"

"As far as we can make out, by the Divine's indulgence."

"And it's definitely with him?"

"Well, I don't see how it could have gone anywhere. The Divine, of course, knows best."

Wisdom nodded. "Is he still alive?"

"Hard to say. He was very quiet this morning," Accrual replied. After the building collapsed they'd had to cut the lost brother off from the knowledge web: his connection had been flooded with fear and pain, upsetting the younger monks. When someone checked on him the next morning he'd been whimpering and reciting the scriptures. He was still conscious the following day, and the next. Today...

Almost five days. But the builders they normally used had been on another job during that time, and nobody could justify the expense to hire someone else. The little brother's errand hadn't been that urgent. Important, but not urgent.

Unfortunately it also meant that, today being a Homeday, there were more onlookers.

They watched the builders manoeuvering a prop into place. Under direction of the forewoman, they started moving the flaking, tarnished length of pipe. It was the width of a man, and not a slim one. "You know, I never asked," Wisdom said. "Who is it under there?"

Accrual smiled pointedly. "Oh, but Wis, just think about it. Who's good enough to get into St. Mimim's Cathedral, pick up our little item from the sanctum and get out again, all unseen - which, let me remind you, is popularly known to be impossible - and then stupid enough to let an entire office building fall on him on his way home?"

Wisdom stared at him for a second. "My grace - you're not going to tell me it's Weft?"

"I'd say he's outdone himself this time, wouldn't you?"

"Grace." Wisdom seemed to be staring at a windowframe that stood, paint peeling, half upright among the crumbling bricks. "What a waste, Divine knows best," he said.

"Well, with Its favour perhaps his cargo at least will be intact," said Accrual. They certainly hadn't got any coherent answers out of Weft on that issue.

"Found something!" yelled one of the builders. He dropped to his knees and began throwing bricks aside. More of the rescuers hurried over. Wisdom hurried to help the other brothers keep the onlookers back. There were a few hopeful cheers.

Accrual walked anxiously around the perimeter, craning his head for a better view.

"He's alive!" someone shouted. Two others heaved a large chunk of masonry aside. "He's... oh, shit... bolt cutters, someone!"

Accrual grabbed the forewoman as she rushed past him. "What is it?" he asked.

"He's on some railings. They've gone right through him. Alive but Goddess knows how. 'Scuse me, good brother." She ran off towards the equipment trailer.

"Was he holding an--? Oh, never mind," Accrual sighed, when she didn't turn back. At the same time, he notified HQ. They'd need a medic ready to assay the little brother, maybe treat him. Wisdom already had a couple of brothers prepping the stretcher.

The bolt cutters were brought. Accrual watched a worker wield them with muscles pulsating in his arms. The snap of yielding metal was sickening, or was at least when you knew what it was embedded in.

"No, honey, don't try to move," said a rescuer kneeling at what was presumably the head end. A second snap, a... third? By grace, it was horrific to listen to.

"That's the last. Get the rest of this out of the way." A dragging of metal. Accrual saw a length of iron fencing lifted by one end and allowed to fall downslope. The top ends of three spars were crudely cut off.

"It's all right, sweetie, you're safe now. Look over there, some people from your order came to find you. Hey, no, don't try to get--"

Accrual heard gasps from the rescuers, along with a few words no well-trained monk would acknowledge having heard. What had gone wrong now?

Then Weft got to his feet.

There was deathly hush from the crowd.

Weft had looked better. Stained and tattered, matted hair full of brick dust, eyes squinting painfully and three wicked, rusty lengths of iron sticking through his midriff, he had one of his arms clasped protectively to his chest. Could that be...?

Weft swayed just for a moment until he caught sight of Accrual; then he seemed to jump back into focus. With perfect balance, sure footing - and impalement wounds opening and leaking blood with every step - he made his way smoothly across to his superior.

Accrual had to keep himself from grinning. It was wonderful. "Brother," he said.

"Greatbrother..." rattled Weft through cracked lips. "I should've been faster, should've thrown it clear... I... am so sorry for the inconvenience."

Accrual nodded his assent. "Let's see it, then."

Weft blinked once as if he didn't know what Accrual was talking about, then opened his hand and stiffly held it out.

The item was in perfect condition. Not a chip, not even a crack in the glass; as far as Accrual could see, nothing worse than a few smears. Weft must have been shielding it with his body.

"Very good," he said. And smiled kindly. "That'll be all for now, little brother."

Weft let his shoulders, head and outstretched arm drop. "Thank you for coming," he whispered. "Thank you. I was so frigh... fr... afried..." Then he collapsed.

The straggling onlookers burst into applause.

Wisdom caught Weft before he hit the rubble. "Stretcher," he ordered over his shoulder. "Good... engh... right. Get him upslope immediately." The junior monks leapt into gear.

At the same time, Accrual told the forewoman "Good work. Thank you. Send the bill over." The builders started picking up their tools. The fallen building wasn't their responsibility. Someone would probably be getting sued over the dangerously unsound structure, but the order didn't care. They'd retrieved what was important.

Accrual clapped Wisdom on the back of the neck. "Good job, little brother."

"Thanks, Crual. Do you think he'll make it, then?"

"The Divine knows all. Abdominal wounds are nasty. Chances are he won't be considered worth saving. Of course, if he does survive, his trust rating will be shot."

"Mmm. It seems unfair, Divine knows best."

"It's good sense. Experiences like this can change a man. They can cause dark, unworthy thoughts to fester."

Wisdom considered that. "Not Weft. He just looked grateful to be rescued."

"Well, let's pray the Divine that's so. He deserves credit. Look at what he's done for us." Accrual tossed the item, caught it, then gestured around to the chattering onlookers.

"We couldn't have planned publicity like this - not half so effectively!"