But then, of course, there was Topaz. He loved her so much. Or, rather, the pieces of him that remembered her loved her so much. Roland knew he wanted those memories back. He needed them back. Every time he thought about her face something twisted inside him, as if his guts were being tugged in whatever direction he thought she might be. It was a weird way to feel about a woman he only remembered in fragments.

Roland shook his head in a nervous attempt to shake the thoughts from his mind. Then he stared ahead at the line of cars.

The immigration center was chaotic, crowded, and heavy with the smell of scared humans. It was also a happier place than Roland would have expected. Martyrs in fresh olive drab uniforms with bright golden crosses emblazoned on the arms handed out food, water, and even cups of instant coffee to the adults. They posed for pictures with children. The whole place almost had the air of a party about it. There was someone filming too. Roland guessed he must be a propagandist for the Kingdom, putting together some sort of documentary.

They stood in line for two full hours before it was their turn in front of the intake officer. He was an older man, with a big bushy mustache, red jowls, and a droopy rooster-wattle of a throat. He had a whiny voice that barraged them with questions as soon as they sat down at his desk.

“How many Apostles did Christ have?”

“What was the name of the hill where our Lord was crucified?”

“What is the fifth commandment?”

Manny answered every question while Roland sat there and smiled vacantly like an invalid. They’d decided in the car that “playing dumb” was his best option. He’d probably wind up starting a fight if he talked to the man and, besides, Roland didn’t know shit about the Bible. He didn’t even have any memory fragments of church services.

“And why is it that you’re answering all the questions, young man?” the officer finally asked. “What about your friend here…Aaron, is it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Roland replied, “I just, um. I don’t test so good. Mom said I ain’t a thinker.”

“But you are a Christian, yes?”

“Oh yeah, sir,” he nodded enthusiastically. “I love God. I’m all about God!”

The intake officer narrowed his eyes at Roland. Manny flashed him a look of fury and then quickly turned it into a smile directed at the officer.

“He’s, uh. He’s slow, sir. His momma took care of him but she died in a drone strike two months back. From the SDF. I’m just trying to make sure he’s OK.”

“Mmmh,” the man grunted, then looked to Roland. “I imagine that must make you angry, losing your mother.”