CHAPTER 19 – Shadows of Belief
Francine and Linda walked just outside the main workspace of the Parsons' command center, the hum of high-tech equipment fading as they moved into a quieter corridor. Linda noticed Francine’s demeanor—stiff, guarded, as if she were ready for a confrontation or defense. There was a tension in the air, like the faint buzz of fluorescent lights, and Linda decided to confront it head-on.
“You know... I couldn’t help but notice earlier," Linda said gently, but observant.
"You’ve got quite the... let’s say, complicated opinion of Peter.”
Francine stopped mid-stride, exhaling audibly. She leaned back against the cool metal wall and closed her eyes tightly, as if summoning patience. When she finally opened them, her expression softened, just slightly.
“You caught that, huh?” Francine replied with a hint of frustration. She smiled faintly, almost bitterly, then shook her head.
“It wasn’t always like this, you know. In fact, there was a time when...” She hesitated, searching for the right words, but Linda tilted her head curiously, offering a reassuring presence. Francine took a breath.
“When I first met Peter and Henry, it was at the same time. And, would you believe it? At first... I was drawn to Peter.”
“Really?" Linda responded with surprise.
"I didn’t see that coming.”
Francine nodded, absently fingering the cross pendant around her neck. "Most people wouldn’t. Peter back then—well, he was magnetic. Confident. So sure of himself, like he already held the answers to questions I hadn’t even thought to ask. For someone like me, raised in... a more structured environment, he was overwhelming, but fascinating.”
“But something changed?” Linda asked gently.
Francine nodded with a faint smile.
“Yes. As I got to know Henry, really got to know him, I realized... Peter wasn’t what I needed. Henry was grounded. Kind. He saw the little things that Peter didn’t. And over time, my interest in Peter faded, and he and I became just friends. Things were fine for a while.”
She hesitated again, her voice lowering.
“Until the incident.”
“Incident?” Linda asked with a frown.
Francine sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping as she adjusted her grip on the cross.
“Chris was ten, Ruby was six. I thought we were doing fine as a family. I thought Peter respected the boundaries we all had. But one afternoon, I found out he’d been...”
She paused, struggling to frame it.
“—teaching them... his philosophies. Things that went against everything I believed in. Demonic ‘living mathematics,’ he called it.” Linda furrowed her brow, clearly confused. “Demonic? Living mathematics?”
“Calculus. Geometry. Trigonometry. Algebra. Those academics aren’t inherently evil, of course, but the way Peter was teaching it... Oh, Linda, he wasn't just teaching them numbers and equations. He was filling their heads with ideas about ancient philosophers—Pto, Pythagoras, Hegel. And Ruby—she became obsessed with this... this ‘Monadology’ nonsense by some man named Leibniz.”
“Okay...," Linda replied somewhat hesitant.
"But you think that was demonic?”
Francine gripped her cross tightly.
“Yes, I do! Ever since that day, my babies had no interest in church, in scripture, or in studying God’s word. They didn’t want to attend Bible study or sing with the children’s choir anymore. All they wanted to do was... math. And philosophy. Peter had turned my babies away from God, Linda. Away from salvation. He condemned their souls to hell.”
Linda stood silently for a moment, processing Francine’s words. She gnced at the cross Francine clung to so desperately, now realizing how deeply her faith informed everything about her worldview. It struck a chord deep within Linda that she hadn’t touched in years, and suddenly, like an uninvited guest, a flood of memories filled her mind. Linda began to have a fshback of when she was eight, sitting on a hard wooden pew in her father’s modest Methodist church, her legs swinging slightly because they never quite reached the floor. The thick scent of old hymnals and candle wax filled the air around her as her father, a stern man in his starched clerical colr, scanned the congregation with piercing eyes. Linda's father, the Reverend George Bradshaw, was at the pulpit, preaching his sermon.
“Children are the arrows in the quiver of the Lord. It is our duty as parents to sharpen them and aim them toward righteousness.”
His voice, a mix of authority and wrath, echoed through the sanctuary. Eight-year-old Linda squirmed in her seat, knowing that after the service, her father would quiz her on Bible verses she struggled to memorize. Later that week, she stood before the church choir director, trembling. She hated singing in the choir, but her father insisted she take the lead in the children’s hymn—a spotlight she didn’t want. Her voice quivered as she sang, tears threatening to fall as she caught her father’s disapproving frown from the pews. Afterward, she was dragged into his study for another lecture.
“You represent me before the Lord, Linda," Reverend Bradshaw scolded.
"Don’t embarrass me again.”
As Linda grew older, she spent entire summers confined to Bible retreats and church events. Any interest in books, science, or even her own social life was dismissed as frivolous distractions from the Lord’s work. It wasn’t until she met Paul, years ter, that she found an escape. He encouraged her to carve her own path, to think for herself. The fshback dissolved as Linda returned to the present, rubbing her wrist absentmindedly where she once wore her Sunday School bracelet. Her eyes locked on Francine, and she spoke softly but firmly.
“What Chris and Ruby went through? That’s the same thing I went through. My dad was a Methodist pastor. When I was just a little younger than Ruby, he forced religion into every corner of my life. Church, choir, Bible verses—I wasn’t living my own life. I was living his.”
Francine’s lips parted slightly; her expression cautious but intrigued. Linda continued.
“It wasn’t until I met Paul that I realized I didn’t have to live in his shadow anymore. Paul gave me courage. Enough courage to finally tell my father that I wanted to find my own way.”
Francine straightened, instinctively defensive of Linda’s father.
“But don’t you see, Linda? All your father wanted was for you to have a retionship with our Lord and Savior.”
Linda offered a nervous chuckle, nodding slightly.
“He would say exactly the same thing. But you know, Francine, what he was trying to expose me to wasn’t religion. It was control.”
Francine froze, the conviction in Linda’s words hitting her harder than she expected. After a long pause, she asked cautiously:
“So... do you, Paul, and Candy believe in God at all?”
“We do," Linda replied.
"We’re certain there’s something greater than ourselves. But not in the Abrahamic sense. We believe people should be free to practice their own spiritual philosophies in their own ways. That’s the only way faith can be meaningful—when it’s chosen, not imposed.”
Before Francine could respond, Major Amma and Mangino approached, overhearing the tail end of the conversation. Mangino, kind but direct, joined in on Linda and Francine's conversation.
“Forgive me for interrupting—I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I can rete. I was raised in a strict Catholic household. Religious indoctrination was practically my second nguage.”
Major Amma nodded and began sharing her story.
“And I came from an Ismic household. My father used to tell me as a child, ‘If it’s not in the Quran, it isn’t true.’ It took years for me to unlearn the idea that curiosity and faith are opposites.”
Francine’s eyebrows furrowed as she listened. The women’s stories seemed to crack the foundation of her certainty. She touched her cross almost reflexively. Major Amma gently continued.
“It seems we all have something in common.”
The women nodded in solidarity, exchanging knowing looks. Linda pced a hand lightly on Francine’s shoulder.
“Francine, maybe... maybe don’t be so hard on Peter. He adores those kids, and he’d never intentionally harm them.”
Francine spoke with hesitancy.
“I don’t know, Linda. I can try, but... it’s hard.” “That’s all I’m asking,” Linda said with a smile.
At that moment, Jenny stepped into the corridor, overhearing the tail end of their conversation. She paused, sensing the emotional weight of the discussion.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I think I can help.”
All of the women turned to her, their expressions mixed with curiosity and surprise.
“Dr. Kwan,” Francine began carefully, “I’m not sure you can...”
“Actually, I can,” Jenny interjected with a calm confidence.
“I’ve been studying how living mathematics can shape our understanding of the world. It’s not all demonic. In fact, mathematics is a nguage. A way to quantify and appreciate the universe's beauty. I can’t deny I’ve been inspired by living mathematics in my work, but it’s not meant to repce faith—just to complement it.”
Linda watched as Francine’s expression began to shift from skepticism to contemption, and she felt a glimmer of hope.
“Maybe we can find a way to use that approach—as a bridge rather than a barrier,” she suggested. Jenny nodded vigorously.
“Exactly! We could even develop a pn together. Perhaps integrate these concepts into something that resonates with everyone’s beliefs, including yours, Francine.”
Francine looked torn but intrigued.
“You really think that’s possible?”
“I believe it is more than possible,” Jenny said earnestly.
“All ideas deserve to be explored through inquiry, not fear. Just as my work applies mathematics to improve our world, we can work together to find common ground. It might lead to understanding rather than division.”
Linda reached out and touched Francine’s arm.
“What do you think?” Major Amma added her two cents.
“Sounds like a pn to me.”
“I concur,” Mangino said.
Francine took a deep breath, her mind racing through the possibilities still fighting against her instinctive hesitance. After a moment, she straightened her posture, a flicker of determination igniting in her eyes.
“Okay, I’m willing to hear you out. If it could help my children...”
“We can work together on it. We’ll see where it leads us,” Jenny encouraged, a warm smile spreading across her face.
As the five women made their way back toward the main command center, Dr. Jenny found herself feeling more optimistic about the future. They had taken the first step towards a potential solution, and together, they might forge a new path. The hum of the command center resumed, a reminder of the ongoing turmoil outside, but within, a new sense of colboration was starting to blossom.
“I have to get back to the b,” Jenny told the other woman.
But before she left, she turned to Francine. “When I have free time, we will get started.”
Francine gave a tiny smile to Dr. Jenny and said, “I’ll try.”
Jenny shoots a smile back at Francine and goes on her way.
“Speaking of hard truths," Major Amma said switching tones.
"Francine, there’s something you need to know.” Francine started frowning.
“What is it?” Mangino stepped forward, her tone serious.
“It’s about something called ‘Operation Second Coming.’ Do you know what that might mean?”
Francine's eyes started narrowing.
“If I had to guess... something about staging a fake second coming of Jesus Christ?”
The other women exchanged impressed gnces.
“You’re exactly right," Mangino confirmed.
"As part of this operation, there will be a mandatory draft for men aged 18 to 44, forced to fight an expansionist war in the Middle East. It’s all manipution to fulfill fake ‘biblical prophecies'.”
“They’ll handpick some puppet leader to py the ‘messianic king'," Major Amma added.
"People of faith will believe it’s the prophesied Messiah son of David.”
Francine’s hand flew to her mouth, her voice trembling with anger.
“That’s... that’s evil! Twisting scripture, using faith to control people—it’s... it’s disgusting! Christ would never have wanted this!”
Linda nodded in agreement.
“Exactly. That’s why we need to stop them.”
“And to do that, we all need to work together. Even with Peter,” Major Amma added.
Francine hesitated, then finally nodded.
“For something this big... I’ll do it. For now.”
“That’s all we ask," Linda said with a smile.
The four women exchanged determined looks, silently promising to stand together against the rising threat.
