by Rob Summers
Chapter 23 No Answer
“Confusion, you and Prevarica can go now,” Dignity said.
Confusion stood with unaccustomed rigidity in her face. “Why, Mr. Dignity, you don’t mean that you’re going to send us away without an answer for your parents?”
“Um, yeah. That’s what we’re going to do. You toddle on home without an answer.”
“I’m sure you don’t mean that,” Confusion said with some heat. “That would be so cold and impolite, so unlike you. Oh, no, not on Christmas!”
Therion pressed the speaker button on his phone. “Confusion! Prevarica! Get out of there.”
In the middle of a sentence Confusion suddenly paused and took her coat from her chair. Prevarica was getting hers too. They left quickly and without a word.
When Dignity looked to Reason questioningly, the little woman shrugged. “Maybe she just remembered she left a stove burner on. But you don’t mean you’re going to miss her?”
“Hardly. So what now? Dismiss?”
“What does Wisdom say?” she asked, her arm around her son.
The boy considered. “In school we’ve been studying about the Declaration of Independence. Maybe we need something like that.”
“I like it,” Reason said with a giggle. She stood and addressed the group. “Maybe what we need is a proclamation. Why should we let Guiles do all the declaring of limits? Wisdom wants to know why we couldn’t make a break on our own side, be revolutionaries. Now I don’t mean some document we would send to Leasing House. They would never see it. This would be strictly for us.”
The proposal was accepted by acclamation, and with surprising speed a proclamation was drawn up. When it was finished, Joy was called on to read it aloud:
The Proclamation of Grace House
We the residents of Grace House proclaim that the Leasing Household has done the following:
Committed treason against Heaven’s King by swearing allegiance to the puppet City government presently in power, and therefore to the City’s Hellite masters; and though sometimes dissimulating religious beliefs, have truly defied and rebelled against all true religion; both rejecting the authority of the Divine Embassy and refusing to seek or accept pardon. They, though hiding under the supposed protection of City law, being convicted criminals, wanted by the Heavenly government.
Maintained hostilities toward loyal Heavenites in many ways, including:
Denying our human worth and dignity
Allowing us no open discussion of grievances, and curtailing our freedom of speech on many subjects
Assisting in the condemnation of some of us without trial for imagined crimes
In one instance assisting in the false condemnation, imprisonment, and execution of a Heavenite
Ostracizing us in a fashion amounting to effective expulsion from the presence of close family members
Attempting to extort from us false apologies for imagined wrongs
Attempting to maneuver us into accepting their authority over us, in accordance with a design to reduce us under absolute despotism
By pretended legislation, promulgating strange laws intended to ensnare us
In one instance, provoking some of us into unethical behavior—behavior for which we take most of the responsibility, but for which they have never confessed their own share of responsibility
Slandering us
Covering up and denying the plain truth about their various crimes toward us
Therefore, leaving the inhabitants of Leasing House to the justice of God, and with no intent to harm or condemn them, we the inhabitants of Grace House proclaim that:
We will not visit Leasing House or encourage its inhabitants to visit us.
We will not answer any messages from them, nor send them any messages or presents.
We will not seek any material gain from them.
We will speak freely about Relocation or any other subject.
We reject the pretended authority of Leasing House’s residents over us, and affirm that we do not owe them anything.
Furthermore, we will not attempt to explain or justify our behavior to them.
When Joy had proclaimed this, the council was transformed into a Christmas Eve party. Many of the Grace House residents who had been anxious felt that a time of safety and tranquility had come. Their danger was over. A new day had dawned.
All this time Therion had sat alone in his office staring at the bell. He did not want to strike it, knew the dreadful result now if he did, but knew just as well that he would have to. According to the strict and merciless law he lived by, he owed to his masters free entrance to Grace House. But entrance was not his to give them this night. One strange twist after another had saved the God-lovers: first the servant woman’s actions, this frightened underling who had supposedly been bought and owned by the City! Then the words of a little boy. And finally it had been the execrable half-wit Gentleness, who should have been dead.
But the bell must be rung. He raised the hammer and, with infinite reluctance, tapped the strike point. As the bell shattered in a little cloud of black smoke and its pieces fell on the desk, he rolled off his chair onto the carpet, clutching his head and screaming.
Grace had reappeared in the entrance hall while the others celebrated. Now he took Gentleness with him and, pausing only to get winter coats, they ascended to the cupola atop the house.
On the way up the spiral staircase, the teen spoke hesitatingly to the old man. “I saw that Wittily came this evening, and I guess it was you that invited her.”
“Yes, and with a good welcome. But you didn’t speak to her?”
“It’s not so easy. Last time we talked—that was the night I got arrested—she said I was like a stupid bear and she told me to get out of her life forever.”
“But so much has changed since then, my boy. Remember that she came here the night you were brought back from the prison and that it was her own idea. Really, I think the girl cares for you deeply. Her main problem now is simply overcoming her parents’ objections and her own shyness. It will work out yet, you mark my words.”
They had arrived in the cupola in the chill night air. “You probably haven’t seen this yet,” he said to the boy, indicating a large spotlight mounted in the center of the platform. “It arrived only a few days ago, compliments of the Captain of the Gloria Dothan. He asked me to signal him if all went well tonight.”
“All did go well, didn’t it, Ambassador?” Gentleness asked.
“It was sometimes a close thing, but yes, all went very well.” He turned the spotlight to face toward the nearest point of the city limits, the west. “The Gloria Dothan is out there and will spot our signal,” he said as he slipped a colored slide into the light. “I wonder if you would like to be the sender? It seems to me you deserve the honor since it’s largely because of you that we have triumphed thus far. All you need to do is flip this switch three times quickly. The Dothan will know what it means.”
Gentleness happily did as instructed, sending three green flashes out far beyond the City.
“That was fun,” he said. “What did we tell them?”
“Just one simple message. ‘Come quickly.’”
“Just come quickly?”
“It’s enough. But look, they’re signaling back. Would you be so good as to use these binoculars and tell me what you see?”
Gentleness raised the glasses to the horizon. “I see yellow flashes: three close together, then one by itself. Same thing again. It’s repeating.”
“It’s all we need. I know the code. Just give them one more green flash, and they’ll stop signaling.”
Gentleness did so and the Dothan’s flashes ceased.
“What did they say?” he asked eagerly.
“Oh, they said that the ball will be tomorrow evening. So it’s turned out to be a Christmas Ball, but that was a matter of chance. I think we can expect to see the Dothan herself in the morning and witho
ut aid of binoculars.”
“Did they say where the ball will be held?”
“I already knew, but the Captain and I would like for that to be a pleasant surprise. Feel free to tell the others that the ball will be tomorrow.”