“Ooh, more please!” were my exact thoughts on finishing this remarkably dense and deliciously chewy novella.
Many years into the future, the gods will reveal themselves on a planet called Bastion, upending faith and religion as humanity knows it forever. Gods are real and angels are real and demons are real, just perhaps not in the forms that doctrine had always insisted on. Bastion itself becomes a place not only of pilgrimage but of record, as the automaton known as Scribe IV dutifully copies down all the prayers sent into the aether. His own position at the monastery complex is somewhat controversial, as certain parties grumble at the very blasphemy of his artificial nature.
As time passes, however, decentralization and entropy take their toll, rendering Bastion a backwater. The monastery and grounds fall into disrepair, and are run by what’s essentially a skeleton crew of foundlings left on their doorstep over the years. It’s not the most exciting of places, but everyone is clothed and fed and safe, which is more than can be said of life on neighboring satellites. Perhaps some of the senior staff are more petty than Scribe IV thinks reasonable, but they all have a much better existence here than they might elsewhere.
So none of the staff, including Scribe IV himself, are particularly thrilled when the Pope suddenly decides to hold a conclave at Bastion, summoning all the leaders of humanity’s varied religions. The Pope’s aim is to declare the end of religion itself, an obviously contentious maneuver. To this end, Bastion must hire in as much contract crew as they can, even as the Pope settles in before the arrival of his guests.
It’s thus a terrible shock when the Pope is found murdered in his chambers shortly after. The Sisters Of the Drowned Deep seize their chance, putting Bastion on lockdown until they can find the murderer. Not entirely trusting the Sisters’ mercies, Scribe IV sends out a desperate call for impartial investigators that finds its way to an unlikely team-up of detectives.








