Chapter Five: The Great Schism of the Coil
Being an Account of How the Church Divided Itself Over a Piece of Wire, Declared War on Several of Its Own Members, and Almost Accidentally Helped Someone.
I. The Trouble with Eight
The Church of the Sacred Coil had entered a golden age.
For the first time in its history, it possessed a functioning device, a collection of sacred manuscripts, a magnificent temple, and a Treasury Department capable of extracting money from people who had not yet been born.
It even had a purpose.
Admittedly, the purpose had only recently been discovered beneath a sandwich, but the Church considered this a minor detail.
Everything was going splendidly.
This lasted nine days.
On the tenth, Brother Ignatius announced that all sacred coils must contain exactly eight wraps.
This was based upon the original account of Creation, in which the Ohm Lord had fashioned the first Sacred Coil from eight magnificent wraps of wire.
The number eight was therefore holy.
Seven was insufficient.
Nine was excessive.
Six was evidence of serious moral deterioration.
Ignatius presented his findings at the weekly meeting of the Council of Sacred Interpretations.
"It is written," he proclaimed, "that the Ohm Lord created the Sacred Coil with eight wraps. Therefore, eight wraps shall be the only acceptable number."
Elric raised a hand.
"Why?"
"Because the Ohm Lord used eight."
"Yes, but why did He use eight?"
Ignatius frowned.
"Because eight is holy."
"Was it holy before He used it?"
"Obviously."
"Then why didn't He use another holy number?"
"Because eight is the holiest."
"According to whom?"
"The scriptures."
"Which describe the Ohm Lord using eight."
"Precisely!"
Elric stared at the ceiling.
There were days when he suspected the universe was deliberately testing him.
"Brother Ignatius," he began patiently, "the appropriate number of wraps depends upon several factors, including the wire, the intended resistance and the electrical characteristics of the device."
Ignatius looked appalled.
"Are you suggesting that the Ohm Lord's Sacred Coil was subject to the laws of physics?"
"Yes."
"Blasphemy!"
"The Ohm Lord invented the bloody laws of physics!"
A lengthy silence followed.
The council had never considered this possibility.
It was eventually agreed that the Ohm Lord was permitted to obey His own laws, provided He did not set a precedent that might encourage others.
II. The Rise of the Claptonians
The controversy might have ended there had Brother Claptus not entered the proceedings.
Claptus was a talented craftsman who had discovered that wrapping a fine wire around a thicker core could produce rather interesting results.
He had spent several months experimenting with the technique, largely because he enjoyed building things and possessed the sort of patience normally associated with people who paint miniature furniture.
His coils were intricate.
They were beautiful.
And, when properly constructed and used, they worked remarkably well.
Unfortunately, somebody described one as a work of art.
Then somebody else called it a masterpiece.
And finally Brother Ignatius declared it divine.
Claptus was horrified.
"It's just wire," he protested.
But it was too late.
Within a week, his workshop had become a shrine.
Within a month, he had acquired seven disciples.
Within two months, the disciples were referring to themselves as the Claptonians, and insisting that the ordinary wire used by the rest of the congregation was spiritually inferior.
Claptus attempted to correct them.
"A simple coil works perfectly well," he explained. "Different builds have different advantages."
The disciples nodded respectfully.
Then recorded his words as:
"The simple coil works, but only the complex may approach perfection."
Claptus objected.
His objection was recorded as a test of faith.
When he threatened to abandon the Church entirely, the disciples declared that he had entered a period of sacred silence.
This was generally considered preferable to allowing him to speak.
The Claptonians soon developed a distinctive religious uniform, consisting of elaborate robes embroidered with spirals of golden thread.
They also introduced a strict hierarchy based upon the complexity of one's coil.
At the bottom were the Single-Wire Novices.
Above them stood the Twisted Brethren.
Then the Masters of the Fused Coil.
And finally, at the very top, the Supreme Arch-Clapton, a position occupied by a man who had never built a coil in his life but whose father had donated a considerable sum to the temple.
Claptus returned to his workshop.
He locked the door.
And above it he placed a sign.
IT'S JUST FUCKING WIRE.
The Church later declared this to be a profound statement on the insignificance of material possessions.
The sign was stolen and sold as a relic.
III. The Order of the Eternal Drip
Naturally, the Claptonians could not remain unchallenged.
Their greatest opponents emerged from an entirely different misunderstanding.
The Dripmonks were a small order of monks who believed that the only truly sacred method of using the Coil was to apply liquid directly to its wick.
Their doctrine was based upon the account of Creation, in which the Ohm Lord had discovered that cotton performed considerably better when wet.
The Dripmonks interpreted this as a divine instruction to apply liquid by hand.
Repeatedly.
Preferably while chanting.
Their leader, Brother Dripwald, maintained that tanks were an abomination.
"Why," he demanded, "would a man place his sacred liquid within a sealed reservoir when he could administer it personally?"
Elric considered this.
"Convenience?"
"HERESY!"
"Portability?"
"BLASPHEMY!"
"Because some people don't particularly enjoy carrying bottles around all day?"
Dripwald clutched his robes.
"BEGONE, TEMPTER!"
The Dripmonks developed an elaborate ceremony involving seven drops of liquid, a silver bottle and the chanting of the Sacred Saturation.
The ceremony took approximately twenty minutes.
The resulting vape lasted considerably less.
This was considered proof of the fleeting nature of earthly pleasure.
The Claptonians, meanwhile, insisted that the complexity of the coil was more important than the method of applying liquid.
The Dripmonks insisted that the method of applying liquid was more important than the complexity of the coil.
And the High Priest insisted that both groups were required to pay the appropriate religious licensing fees.
Thus began the first great theological disagreement over equipment.
It would have remained relatively harmless had anybody remembered that the equipment was supposed to be helping people.
IV. A Woman at the Door
Her name was Miriam.
She had been smoking for twenty-three years.
She had started as a young woman, had continued through marriage, motherhood, hardship and several increasingly determined attempts to stop.
She hated the smell.
She hated the coughing.
She hated the amount of money she spent.
Most of all, she hated the feeling that something she no longer enjoyed had acquired the authority to tell her what to do.
A neighbour had mentioned that the Church possessed a device which might help her leave the smoke behind.
So Miriam travelled to the Great Temple.
She approached the first priest she encountered.
"Excuse me. I was told you might be able to help me stop smoking."
The priest smiled.
"Of course, my child. First, you must decide which order you wish to join."
Miriam blinked.
"Order?"
"The Claptonians or the Dripmonks."
"What's the difference?"
"The Claptonians believe in the sanctity of the sacred winding. The Dripmonks believe in the sanctity of the sacred saturation."
Miriam considered this.
"I just want to stop smoking."
"Naturally. But first we must establish your theological position."
"I haven't got one."
The priest looked concerned.
"Everyone has a theological position."
"Mine is that I want to stop smoking."
"That isn't one of the recognised positions."
"Can I just have one of those little devices?"
The priest recoiled.
"Without instruction?"
"Then teach me."
"Without initiation?"
"What's initiation?"
"A sacred ceremony involving several blessings, an oath of allegiance and a small administrative contribution."
Miriam stared at him.
"How small?"
The priest quoted a figure.
Miriam laughed.
It was not a happy laugh.
"For that money I could buy cigarettes for a month."
The priest nodded sympathetically.
"Yes, but then you would remain enslaved to the Empire of Ash."
"And if I join your Church?"
"You will be free."
"Once I've paid?"
"Naturally."
Miriam looked at the enormous golden statue of High Priest Thaddeus standing above the temple entrance.
Then at the priest.
Then at the packet of cigarettes in her pocket.
"Tell you what," she said. "I think I'll try again on my own."
And she left.
The priest recorded the incident as a successful rejection of an unworthy applicant.
The Treasury Department recorded it as a lost sales opportunity.
Nobody recorded it as a woman asking for help.
Except Elric.
He had been standing nearby.
And he was becoming rather tired of the whole bloody thing.
V. The Council of Mutual Excommunication
By the following week, relations between the Claptonians and Dripmonks had deteriorated.
The Claptonians accused the Dripmonks of primitive thinking.
The Dripmonks accused the Claptonians of unnecessary complexity.
Both accused the other of heresy.
High Priest Thaddeus decided to intervene.
Not because the division troubled him spiritually, but because rival factions tended to establish independent treasuries.
This was intolerable.
An emergency council was called.
Representatives from both orders arrived wearing their finest ceremonial robes.
The Claptonians entered carrying a magnificent sculpture constructed entirely from twisted wire.
The Dripmonks arrived with a sacred bottle of liquid.
Each faction demanded that its object be placed at the centre of the council chamber.
A disagreement followed.
Then an argument.
Then an accusation.
Then a particularly unfortunate incident involving the Sacred Spoon.
It was at this point that Thaddeus declared the proceedings officially open.
"Brothers," he announced, "we are gathered here to resolve our differences in the spirit of unity."
"HERETICS!" shouted the Claptonians.
"BLASPHEMERS!" replied the Dripmonks.
"Excellent," said Thaddeus. "I see we have established the agenda."
The debate continued for three days.
On the first day, the Claptonians presented a forty-seven-page treatise proving that complicated coils were spiritually superior.
On the second, the Dripmonks presented a seventy-three-page rebuttal proving that reservoirs were instruments of moral corruption.
On the third, both factions agreed that the other should be excommunicated.
This was the closest either had come to consensus.
Elric, who had been appointed official recorder, attempted to restore some sanity.
"Perhaps," he suggested, "different people might prefer different devices."
The chamber fell silent.
Brother Dripwald stared at him.
"You would permit people to choose?"
"Yes."
"For themselves?"
"Yes."
"Without consulting the Church?"
"YES!"
Thaddeus rose slowly from his chair.
"Brother Elric, I must warn you that your obsession with free will is becoming dangerously similar to the teachings of the Ohm Lord."
Elric blinked.
"Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"
"Not when taken out of context."
"What context?"
"The context of established Church authority."
Elric carefully placed his quill on the table.
He considered the advantages of a career in farming.
Vegetables, he reasoned, were unlikely to invent elaborate theological justifications for being vegetables.
Then he remembered that somebody had already declared the sacred cabbage a symbol of divine fertility.
There was no escape.
VI. A Generous Offer from the Empire
Far beyond the temple walls, the Empire of Ash observed the growing division with considerable interest.
The Empire had always regarded the Sacred Coil as a commercial inconvenience.
Its customers were supposed to buy cigarettes.
Regularly.
Preferably for the rest of their lives.
Anything that helped those customers stop buying cigarettes was, by definition, a threat to the natural economic order.
Sir Percival Smoulder, Director of the Imperial Department of Reassurance, studied the reports.
"The Church appears to be fighting itself, my Lord."
Across the desk, Lord Nicodemus Combustion smiled.
"Excellent."
"They are arguing about wire."
"Even better."
"And the correct method of applying liquid to cotton."
Nicodemus leaned forward.
"Do they still remember that their purpose is to help our customers escape?"
Percival consulted his notes.
"Apparently not."
"Wonderful. Send them a donation."
Percival blinked.
"A donation, my Lord?"
"Of course. We must support freedom of religious expression."
"But they're our enemies."
"My dear Percival, an enemy who spends his time fighting himself is worth considerably more than a friend who knows what he's doing."
Percival nodded.
"Shall we donate to the Claptonians or the Dripmonks?"
"Both."
"Both?"
"Naturally. We wouldn't want either side to lose."
And so the Empire began secretly financing the theological dispute.
The Claptonians received a generous research grant to investigate the spiritual superiority of elaborate coils.
The Dripmonks received a charitable contribution towards the preservation of traditional liquid application.
Both grants came with a single condition.
The recipients were to continue arguing.
This presented no difficulty whatsoever.
Within weeks, the Church had produced seventeen theological publications, established six new committees and issued fourteen formal declarations of heresy.
The Empire, meanwhile, continued selling cigarettes.
Business had never been better.
VII. The Bench Outside the Temple
Elric found Barnabus sitting outside the temple.
He was examining a small device with the intense concentration of a man attempting to understand something that had been explained to him only four times.
"Morning, Barnabus."
"Morning, Brother Elric."
"How are you getting on?"
Barnabus shrugged.
"Better, I think."
"Still smoking?"
"Sometimes."
"Fewer than before?"
"Quite a few fewer."
Elric nodded.
"That's something."
Barnabus looked relieved.
"The priest said I was failing."
"Which priest?"
"The one with the golden coil on his hat."
"Ah. Brother Ignatius."
"He said that if my faith was strong enough, I wouldn't need cigarettes anymore."
Elric sat beside him.
"Barnabus, Brother Ignatius once attempted to repair an electrical fault by threatening it with excommunication."
"Did it work?"
"No. The building caught fire."
Barnabus considered this.
"So I shouldn't listen to him?"
"Not about electricity. Or smoking. Or fire."
They sat in silence.
Eventually, Barnabus spoke.
"That woman came back."
"What woman?"
"The one who wanted help. Miriam."
"Where is she?"
"Over there."
Miriam was standing near the temple entrance, studying a noticeboard covered in competing declarations of religious authority.
She looked exhausted.
Elric approached her.
"Can I help you?"
She turned.
"You're the man who was arguing with the priests."
"That describes a substantial portion of my life."
"They said I needed to join an order."
"They would."
"And pay for a ceremony."
"Naturally."
"And buy a device with seventeen sacred engravings."
"Seventeen?"
"Apparently sixteen is heretical."
Elric sighed.
"Would you like to sit down?"
Miriam hesitated.
"How much?"
"Nothing."
"Are you sure?"
"Quite."
She sat.
Elric asked about her smoking.
Not her sins.
Not her faith.
Not her opinion of the Holy Coil.
Her smoking.
How long she'd smoked.
What she'd tried before.
What made quitting difficult.
What she hoped to change.
He listened.
This was a revolutionary approach to religious counselling, primarily because it involved allowing the other person to speak.
Barnabus joined them.
He showed Miriam his simple device, explained what he had learned about using it, and admitted that he was still figuring things out himself.
Elric explained the available options, the importance of using suitable equipment properly, and that choosing to move away from cigarettes did not require joining a religion.
He did not promise miracles.
He did not suggest that vaping was harmless.
He did not guarantee that the journey would be easy.
He simply helped Miriam find an approach she felt comfortable trying.
After a while, she smiled.
"That's all?"
"That's all."
"No ceremony?"
"No."
"No sacred oath?"
"No."
"No donation?"
"No."
"Then what do you get out of it?"
Elric considered this.
"Hopefully, you stop smoking."
Miriam looked at him.
Then she laughed.
For the first time since arriving at the temple, she seemed genuinely happy.
"Well, that's a bloody strange religion."
"Yes," said Elric. "I'm beginning to think so myself."
VIII. The War of the Sacred Implements
Inside the temple, the Great Schism had reached its inevitable conclusion.
War.
Not a particularly impressive war.
There were no armies.
No cavalry.
No great siege engines.
Neither faction possessed the necessary military experience, and the Treasury had refused to fund an actual conflict without some assurance that the opposing side would be responsible for repairing the damage.
Instead, the Claptonians and Dripmonks engaged in an escalating campaign of theological aggression.
The Claptonians refused to acknowledge any coil containing fewer than eight wraps.
The Dripmonks refused to recognise any device containing a tank.
The Claptonians declared that direct dripping was primitive.
The Dripmonks declared that complicated wire was vanity.
The Claptonians removed the Dripmonks from the official list of approved orders.
The Dripmonks responded by removing the Claptonians from their Christmas card list.
This was widely regarded as an escalation too far.
The conflict finally came to a head during the Feast of the Sacred Saturation.
The Claptonians arrived carrying their most elaborate coils.
The Dripmonks arrived carrying their finest bottles.
Both demanded the right to conduct the opening ceremony.
High Priest Thaddeus attempted to negotiate.
He suggested that the Claptonians be allowed to display their coils while the Dripmonks supplied the liquid.
This was rejected.
The Claptonians insisted that the Dripmonks were incapable of appreciating the engineering.
The Dripmonks insisted that the Claptonians were incapable of appreciating the simplicity.
Thaddeus proposed a compromise.
Both factions would perform separate ceremonies and pay separate ceremonial fees.
This was almost accepted.
Unfortunately, Brother Ignatius announced that the High Priest had declared the Sacred Reservoir to be the official method of liquid delivery.
The Dripmonks screamed.
The Claptonians cheered.
The Reservoirists, who until this moment had not existed as an organised faction, immediately formed a committee.
By lunchtime, the Church had divided into three competing branches.
By mid-afternoon, there were five.
By evening, seventeen.
One group believed that all sacred devices should be made from silver.
Another maintained that black devices were more spiritually pure.
A third insisted that flavour was an unnecessary distraction from the true purpose of vapour.
This group was immediately condemned by everyone else.
The Great Schism of the Coil had officially begun.
And the Church, having finally discovered a purpose worth pursuing, was now far too busy to pursue it.
IX. The Heresy of Helping
The first complaint about Elric and Barnabus arrived the following morning.
It was delivered to High Priest Thaddeus by a furious Brother Ignatius.
"Your Holiness! There is unauthorised religious activity taking place outside the temple!"
Thaddeus looked alarmed.
"Are they collecting donations?"
"No!"
"Then what are they doing?"
"Helping people!"
Thaddeus stared.
"Without authorisation?"
"Without even a ceremony!"
"Good heavens."
"And they're giving practical advice!"
Thaddeus rose from his chair.
"This is serious."
"One of them even told a smoker that he didn't have to join the Church!"
Thaddeus went pale.
"Summon the council."
The council assembled.
Elric and Barnabus were summoned to explain themselves.
"What," demanded Thaddeus, "is the meaning of this unauthorised activity?"
Elric frowned.
"We're helping people stop smoking."
"Without permission?"
"Yes."
"Without collecting donations?"
"Yes."
"Without assigning them to an approved religious order?"
"Yes."
"Then how do you expect the Church to benefit?"
Elric stared at him.
"By helping people."
Thaddeus shook his head.
"No, no. You misunderstand. How does the institution benefit?"
"Does it have to?"
A collective gasp rose from the council.
The Treasurer fainted.
It was becoming something of a habit.
Thaddeus leaned forward.
"Brother Elric, do you realise what would happen if everyone followed your example?"
Elric considered this.
"More people might stop smoking?"
"THE CHURCH WOULD LOSE CONTROL!"
"Of what?"
"The process!"
"Which process?"
"The process of helping people!"
Elric took a deep breath.
"Your Holiness, with respect, the process is not supposed to be more important than the people."
Thaddeus stared at him.
For a moment, the entire council fell silent.
Then the High Priest spoke.
"This," he declared, "is the most dangerous heresy I have ever heard."
And so Elric and Barnabus were formally charged with Unlicensed Benevolence, Improper Distribution of Knowledge, and Conduct Likely to Reduce Institutional Dependency.
The last charge carried a particularly severe penalty.
It threatened the Church's business model.
X. The First Unauthorised Congregation
Elric was forbidden from offering further assistance without the approval of the Department of Sacred Guidance.
He submitted an application.
It was rejected.
He submitted an appeal.
The appeal was referred to the Department of Appeals.
The Department of Appeals requested proof that the original application had been rejected.
Elric supplied the rejection.
The Department declared that the document had been submitted on the wrong form.
Elric requested the correct form.
The Department informed him that the correct form was available upon approval of his original application.
Elric went home.
He sat at his desk.
He stared at the wall for a considerable period.
Then he began laughing.
It was not an entirely reassuring laugh.
The following morning, he returned to the bench outside the temple.
Barnabus was already there.
So was Miriam.
And three other people who had heard that the bench was a good place to ask questions.
Elric sat down.
"Right," he said. "Who's first?"
The people looked at one another.
An elderly man raised his hand.
"I've been smoking for forty years."
Elric nodded.
"Would you like to stop?"
"Very much."
"Then let's see what might help."
Another woman asked about batteries.
Barnabus explained what he knew and asked Elric to clarify what he didn't.
A younger man asked why his device kept leaking.
Elric showed him what to check.
Nobody was mocked for asking a basic question.
Nobody was required to purchase an expensive piece of equipment.
Nobody was told that they had failed because they were finding it difficult.
And when somebody asked a question Elric couldn't answer, he did something extraordinary.
He admitted it.
"I don't know," he said. "But we can find out."
The group regarded him with astonishment.
A religious authority admitting ignorance was almost unheard of.
It was rather like a politician admitting that an opponent might have made a reasonable point.
Nobody knew what to do.
Then Barnabus spoke.
"Well, that's better than making something up."
Elric smiled.
"Yes. It rather is."
By the end of the day, the bench had become a small gathering place.
There were no robes.
No hymns.
No collection plate.
Just people sharing what they knew and helping others learn.
The Church did not recognise it.
Which suited everyone involved.
