Page 22 of Sinful

7

Sebastian

Augustus strolled beside me,hands clasped behind his back. “Let’s discuss the ground rules first,” he said. “Firstly, no weaponry. I need to know my people are safe from the threat of violence as long as you’re here.”

“Of course. I didn’t bring anything like that with me.”

He halted in his tracks, brows rising, and I realized he wanted to look in my backpack. I’d already anticipated this search earlier, so I’d hidden my guns and knife in a secret compartment on the bottom.

I set the bag down, unzipped the main part, and held it open for him, along with the smaller side pockets. He stooped and rifled through my things. “Thank you,” he finally said, rising to his feet.

“No problem. I understand the need for caution.”

“I saw that you have a computer and cellular phone in there. You may use them in your own private time, but I ask that you do not show them to anyone. Some young minds cannot handle such things.”

“Got it,” I replied as I picked up my bag and resumed walking alongside him.

“Also, while we’re on the topic of technology—no recording. You can write anything you want, but photography, videography, and audio recording is strictly forbidden,” he went on. “As I said earlier, we are very private people. It’s rare enough that we let outsiders in, but when we do, we do not wish for them to leave with any permanent imagery of us or our practices.”

I tilted my head. “On that note, whodoyou let in? I think I heard something about a census taker earlier.”

Augustus nodded. “Every five years, your government sends someone to count us for their records. We allow them in and assist them with their work,” he replied. “We also occasionally allow people to visit if they write to us with proof that they are related to one of our members. Through ancestors, of course. Sometimes they like to visit, meet their distant relatives, and have a look around. We welcome them for a short time, but of course, they cannot stay for long.”

“And my mother?” I said. “Why did you let her stay so long?”

He smiled faintly. “She was very persistent and persuasive. She used to hike up here and leave letters in our mailbox every single month, asking for an opportunity to study our culture. This went on for three whole years. Finally, I decided to meet with her, just to let her know once and for all that we were never going to allow her into our community.”

My jaw twitched. “I take it that didn’t work.”

“No. When I met her face to face, she managed to persuade me that she would be respectful of our ways, and she was willing to follow any rules we set out for her. She promised she wouldn’t publish anything about our community that I didn’t explicitly approve of,” he said. “She was also very non-judgmental compared to most other outsiders. She introduced me to a concept called cultural relativism. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes. It’s the idea that there’s no universal standard of ‘right’ to measure cultures by, and that all cultural beliefs should be understood relative to their context instead of being judged against our own culture’s norms, whatever they may be.”

“Ah, of course you know what it means. It was a silly question for me to ask.” Augustus pursed his lips for a second. “Anyway, Miranda convinced me that she would be an unbiased observer, and so I allowed her to stay.”

Anger spiked in my gut. I hated hearing my mother’s name on this man’s lips.

I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “Back to the census thing… the watchman mentioned that your population is around twelve hundred. Is that true?”

He nodded again. “A little over that, yes. We’ve had a few more babies born since the census taker was last here.”

“And the government has never had a problem with so many of you living here?” I asked, casting my eyes around the bustling main street. I was still attracting a few stares from Alderwood citizens, but I didn’t detect any hostility. Just interest or confusion.

“No. You see, we were here long before the United States existed,” he replied. “Back when our founding members arrived here, these parts were still being fought over by the French, Dutch, and English. The English eventually won out and settled this part of the land in 1664. We were happy to cooperate, and we were also happy to cooperate when the revolution happened in 1776, forming your United States.”

“You’ve been here through it all, huh?”

“Yes, and as I said, we’ve always been happy to cooperate. We aren’t violent people, you see. Not unless we have to be.” He bared his teeth in a vaguely menacing smile. “But to fully answer your initial question, we are sovereign citizens of a sort. We don’t follow US laws in our community, but we abide bythem in the outside world. For example, if one of our members went outside the perimeter and assaulted someone, they would be subject to your law and subsequent punishment. Not ours.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, we purchased this land from the English after they laid claim to the region, and the American government honored those ownership rights after 1776. So it’s still legally ours. Twenty thousand acres of wilderness,” Augustus went on, sweeping a hand around us. “I suppose we have a sort of unspoken agreement with your government. We don’t cause trouble for them, and they don’t cause trouble for us.”

“Hm. Interesting.”

He shook his head. “Of course, after what happened to your mother… that caused a great deal of trouble,” he said. “It was a relief when the authorities finally told us they thought we were innocent. It’s too bad the court of public opinion didn’t have the same findings, so to speak.”

Christ, this man was totally fucking deluded. No one in law enforcement actually thought the Covenant was innocent. It was just that they couldn’t be proven guilty. That was a different thing entirely.

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