could work anywhere. Every company was required to have one on-site at all
times.
Preachers did everything. They taught in schools. They were the police.
They were stationed at restaurants to bless your food when the server
brought it to your table.
Luke had once aspired to be a preacher, but he failed the aptitude test.
They assigned him janitorial duties until he married, though he hadn’t had
much luck finding a woman.
He quickly learned that the power plant was the dirtiest place in
Bibleopolis. While everything outside gleamed, the plant was coated in
grease and grime. No matter how hard he scrubbed, it never stayed clean.
He held out hope that he might move up. There weren’t many joys in
janitorial work, but tomorrow night was something to look forward to. It
was an exile.
Exiles didn’t happen often. Jimmy Summers had been outed as a homosexual.
He would be marched to the city border while citizens jeered at him. The
last exile drew thousands.
There were four reasons for exile. First: A deviant lifestyle. A person
caught being homosexual or transgender would be offered therapy. If it
failed or they refused, they were exiled. Second: heresy. Anyone who
didn’t share the city’s exact beliefs was labeled a heretic. No therapy
for that. Third: liberal ideas. While it was different from heresy, Luke
wasn’t sure how. Fourth: crime. The rarest reason. Luke had never seen an
exile for a crime. Bibleopolis claimed to have no crime.
“Are you going to the exile tomorrow night?” Luke asked his fellow