The Jezzim Girl Orphanage was housed in a former brick rectory. Two decades ago, the church had begun building white marble presbyteries for all priests. The church had handed over previous brick residences to nuns to serve as orphanages, nursing homes, and homeless shelters. These buildings had the advantage of being centrally located, always within walking distance of a cathedral, which was always built in the town center. The church had so much money nowadays that most churches were being renovated or rebuilt into cathedrals, their exteriors covered with white marble.

A previous prelate had issued an edict stating that all Ningens should be able to reach a religious institution within a fifteen-minute walk. It didn’t have to be a church or a cathedral; it could be a convent, a chapel, a presbytery, or an orphanage. As long as its exterior was white and its main door was red, everyone knew the building belonged to the Jezzim Order. It was important for all Ningens to see and feel the church’s constant presence in their lives.

Priests typically focused on political and economic issues, while nuns dedicated their lives to social service. For that reason, the two groups rarely mixed, as the division of labor was clear. Nevertheless, Father Shank had received an unusual missive from Mother Gertrude, asking him to come promptly. The message was cryptic, except that she had something that could interest the Office of Holy Inquiry, the church’s intelligence service.

Father Shank knew Mother Gertrude by reputation. According to his sources, she was a fierce woman who ran her convent and orphanage with an iron fist. What issue could be so serious that she couldn’t handle it on her own? Perhaps a woman had confessed a terrible secret on her deathbed? Maybe a husband had committed a crime against the church? The nun had served the church dutifully for forty years without causing any problems. It was the first time she had ever contacted his service. Out of courtesy, he had agreed to meet her.

A novice awaited his arrival.

“Father,” she said, bowing to him in deep respect. “Mother is expecting you. Please follow me.”

Although the orphanage was old, the floor was immaculately clean. His sources were right; Mother Gertrude did run a tight ship. Her office was at the end of a corridor. He passed several open doors, and all the girls were quietly reading, praying, or knitting. He had expected a more chaotic environment. After all, children were unruly by nature.

The novice knocked gently at the door.

“Come in,” a woman said in a firm voice.

The novice opened the door. “Mother, he has arrived.”

Father Shank stepped in. The office was smaller than he expected, but it was tidy. A woman near retirement age stood and bowed formally, as was expected when a priest visited. She kept her hands clasped. Priests and nuns never shook hands or touched each other; it would be seen as disrespectful.

“Father Shank, I am honored by your visit. Thank you for coming promptly. May I offer you some refreshment?” the woman asked.

“I am grateful for the invitation,” he said. It was a lie, of course; he had come mostly out of curiosity. “How may the church help you?”

The corner of her mouth twitched with amusement. “Father, you misunderstood my missive. It is I who can help you.”

The priest raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was a bold statement. What could this woman do to help him? He already had plenty of servants to wash his clothes and clean his floors.

She passed by him and opened the door. “Bring the girl,” she ordered.

Father Shank blinked in surprise. Did she think she could bribe him by offering him sexual favors involving a minor? He might have to refer the woman to an ecclesiastical court to set an example.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, shaking her head in amusement. “I’ve found you a perfect recruit for your spying directorate.”

“I have millions of agents at my disposal. I don’t need a child,” he said in a cold voice. What did she take him for, a fool? Perhaps he would need to send her into early retirement.

“You want that girl,” the nun said. “I’ve been taking care of orphans all my life, and I’ve never met a girl like that. No one has even come close to her talents.”

Talents? He already had plenty of prostitutes in his service to act as honeypots. Teenage girls were usually quite inexperienced and of little use to his office. Still, he was curious. “What’s so special about that girl?”

“She’s cunning, ruthless, devious, manipulative, fearless, and a gifted liar,” the nun explained. “She’ll do anything to reach her goal: cheat, steal, lie, coerce, or seduce. She has no moral boundaries. As long as she wins, she’s happy. She strives to control everyone she meets, and if anyone dares to resist her wishes, she sees it as a challenge and won’t stop until the person submits to her every whim.”

Father Shank knitted his brows in puzzlement. Clearly, his sources had been wrong about Mother Gertrude. “Surely a corporal punishment would suffice to discipline an unruly child.”

The nun let out a deep sigh. “Believe me, we tried. She sent quite a few of my sisters to the infirmary. Now she just laughs it off and taunts us as we administer the punishment. We locked her in a cellar for a month, and she sang the whole time. She thanked us for the vacation and resumed her behavior as if nothing had happened. We expelled her once, and she took over a local gang. She caused so much trouble in the neighborhood that we took her back at the community’s request. She also has a knack for computers; she has already hacked the school network a few times.”

A knock at the door announced the girl’s arrival.

“Let her in,” Mother Gertrude said with a sigh.

A short girl, about fifteen, walked in as if she owned the place. She had long, dark brown hair that nearly reached her hips. She flashed them a smile brimming with joy, as if being called into Mother Gertrude’s office were an achievement worth celebrating. She ignored the nun and focused on him. Her mouth twisted into a smirk as she studied him. Her eyes were sharp and piercing for a girl so young.

“Hmm, way too old to be a simple messenger. Too well-dressed and educated to be an enforcer. Too calculating to be a psychiatrist or a doctor,” she said, thinking out loud. She shook her head. “Not a teacher either; he’s ambitious and cunning.”

The priest blinked in confusion. He had expected to have to admonish the girl and threaten her with punishment if she didn’t repent. Instead, she was evaluating him!

The girl nodded, her eyes sparkling with merriment. “A spy! You came to recruit me. I accept. When do we begin?”

Father Shank’s eyes widened in shock. He shot an incredulous glance at Mother Gertrude.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Here are her discharge papers.”