by John Bowers
“Do you think you’re the only ones who ever went to church? I grew up hearing Bible stories.”
“And look at you now!”
“Yes! Look at me now.”
He glared at her. She glared back. Finally he sat back and crossed his arms, refusing to meet her gaze.
She turned back to Keyser.
“You’re doing the right thing, Elder Keyser. Please continue.”
Keyser frowned and chewed his lip, as if debating whether to continue. Finally he nodded.
“It was the first time since I was on the council that we had a meeting like that. I wasn’t sure how it was supposed to go, but it didn’t take long at all. I think we were only in there for a half hour.”
“What was said?”
“Father Groening explained about the girl’s disobedience and told us that all avenues of correction had failed. He believed she was incorrigible, but he couldn’t make that decision himself. According to church doctrine, only the Council of Elders could judge her.”
“Did Father Groening make any recommendations?”
“No. He was very careful not to influence us. He even said as much.”
Victoria felt a stab of disappointment.
“What did he say?”
“Well…as I said, he explained the circumstances, and then he told us what might happen if the girl continued on her sinful path.”
“And what was that?”
“He said she might infect other children with her disobedient attitude, that she might lead them astray and cause them to lose their salvation. He explained how, if she was allowed to marry one of our young men, she might lead him astray, and how such iniquity is like a cancer that can spread through the whole body. If left to her own devices, she could bring down the house of God through her insolence.”
Victoria’s eyebrows lifted. Groening hadn’t tried to influence them? Really?
She suddenly felt a lot better.
“And all this took only a half hour?”
“Not even. Ten or fifteen minutes. The opening prayer probably took longer.”
“And who offered the opening prayer?”
“Father Groening.”
“And what happened then? Did you vote?”
“Yes.”
“How long did that take?”
“Not very long. I think we all came to the same conclusion fairly quickly.”
Victoria scribbled a few notes, then looked up.
“The vote was unanimous?”
“Yes. The girl was incorrigible.”
“Were you all aware that you were condemning her to death?”
“Yes, but it isn’t as bad as that sounds. There is biblical precedent. In fact, it’s more than precedent, it’s mandatory.”
“I’m listening.”
“You want the scripture?”
“Please.”
“Deuteronomy 21, verses 18 through 21. If a child is rebellious and unrepentant, they are to be stoned to purge the sin out of the congregation. You can look it up.”
“Oh, I will. You can count on it.”
Victoria was writing. She looked up again.
“How often does the council convene?”
“Not very often. Maybe once or twice a year. Usually for much less serious concerns.”
“What would have happened if any of you had voted that the girl was not incorrigible?”
Keyser stared at her a moment, as if he’d never considered the question. Finally he shrugged.
“I have no idea. We’ve never done that before.”
“Never? Are you telling me that you’ve never voted against Father Groening?”
“No. He is God’s prophet, God’s appointed. Voting against him would be an affront to God. It would be rebellion.”
Victoria and Godney exchanged glances. Godney looked as if, for the first time in his life, he’d walked into a madhouse.
“So…” Victoria hesitated as she tried to frame the next question in her mind. “When Father Groening presented Maggie Downing’s case to the council, you knew what he wanted?”
“Of course. If he didn’t think she was incorrigible, he would never have consulted us. He wouldn’t need to.”
“So you voted the way he wanted you to vote. The way you knew he wanted you to vote.”
“Yes. It was clear enough. He had all the evidence.”
“Did Maggie have a chance to speak?”
“No. The Council of Elders always meets in closed session.”
“Did no one speak for Maggie? Was there anyone to appeal for a lesser sentence? An advocate of some kind?”
Keyser looked confused.
“No. Why would there be? We have the Bible as a guide. That’s all we need.”
“Did it occur to you—to any of you—to vote for a lesser offense? Something that didn’t require stoning?”
“No. Again, why would we? The scripture is clear.”
Victoria stared at Keyser a moment, then made eye contact with each of the others in turn.
“Do the rest of you concur with what Elder Keyser has said here? Would any of you like to make a statement of your own?”
One of the men shook his head emphatically.
“I fear that Joshua may have sealed his own fate with the Almighty,” he said. “I certainly have nothing to say to you.”
“And what is your name, sir? I apologize that I don’t have your names straight yet.”
“You don’t need to get our names straight, but if you must know, I am Elder Hofer.”
Victoria looked at the man sitting next to him.
“And you, sir? Your name?”
“Elder Harris. I will not be a party to any of this.”
She turned to the last one who hadn’t spoken yet. He appeared to be about the same age as Keyser; the others were a decade older.
“And you?”
“My name is Elder Jennings. I don’t approve of this meeting or the reason for it, but what Elder Keyser said is fairly accurate.”
“Fairly accurate? Would you care to clarify anything he said?”
Jennings glanced at his companions, then frowned and pursed his lips. He seemed reluctant to say any more.
Victoria turned to Godney.
“Mr. Godney, would you escort these other gentlemen to the conference room? I need to speak to Elders Keyser and Jennings alone.”
“Of course.”
Godney got to his feet and held a hand toward the door. The two older men also rose, their body language suggesting resistance; without a word, they walked out of the office. Godney followed and closed the door behind him. Victoria waited until he returned.
She faced the two men who remained.
“I sense some conflict between you and your colleagues,” she said. “Please feel free to speak plainly. No one is going to judge you here.”
“I think you’ve already done that,” Jennings told her. “Your remark about our mode of dress was rather unkind.”
Victoria pinked.
“I apologize for that. But I couldn’t allow Elder Billings to intimidate me. I respect your beliefs insofar as they don’t violate Federation law. I don’t want to interfere with your rights any more than I want someone to interfere with mine.”
“Then why are we here?”
“A young girl almost died. Her only ‘crime’ was disobedience to your church authority. That may seem reasonable to you, but from my perspective—and the perspective of the law—it’s unacceptable. A death sentence for wearing modern clothing and wearing makeup? The Federation only puts people to death for murder, and even then it has to be an extreme case.”
“Our doctrine is based on biblical precept. Stoning is prescribed for cases like this.”
“That may be true, but it contravenes Federation law, and you simply can’t do that anymore. Look, I don’t want to argue with you. I know that Father Groening is your spiritual leader, but didn’t it bother you that the girl he condemned was his own granddaughter?”
“We didn’
t know that! No one knew it until Drusilla told us.”
“Okay, but when you did find out, how did you feel about it?”’
Jennings didn’t reply. Keyser did.
“I was shocked,” he said quietly.
“Good! I’m glad to hear that. But before you knew who she was, you voted for her destruction. That didn’t bother you?”
Keyser cast a sidelong glance at Jennings, who stared at the floor with a troubled frown. He turned back to Victoria.
“I didn’t like it. It was the first time I was put in that situation.”
“But you still voted for it.”
He nodded. “It was Father’s will. He is the Prophet. He knows the scripture better than anyone, and the Bible says we should not lean to our own understanding, that we are incapable of seeing things as God sees them.”
Victoria drew a deep breath. She was ready for the big question, which she was almost afraid to ask.
“Elder Keyser, are you willing to testify to that in court?”
His eyes jerked up and his lips parted in surprise.
“Testify in court? Why would I do that?”
“You believe in truth, don’t you? Isn’t truth-telling one of the commandments?”
“Not in so many words. The commandment forbids bearing false witness.”
“Good. I’m asking you to bear true witness. Just tell the Court what you’ve told me. I don’t see how God could possibly object to that, do you?”
He stared at her for long seconds. Jennings, looking pale, did the same. After a moment, Jennings turned to Keyser.
“We can’t do this!” he said in a strained voice. “It’s against every principle we hold!”
“Which principles?” Victoria demanded. “Telling the truth? Protecting young girls? Which principles?”
Both men stared at her with conflicted eyes.
“We can’t turn on our leader,” Keyser said.
“Not even if he’s a criminal?”
“You call him a criminal,” Keyser said. “To us, he’s the Prophet. He is ordained of God.”
Fighting her anger, Victoria resisted the urge to slump in her chair. After a moment, she tried another tack.
“All right, then tell me this: In the Bible, did any of God’s anointed leaders turn bad?”
“Yes, of course. King Saul is a perfect example.”
“And what happened to him?”
“God replaced him with David. But until God replaced him, David continued to honor him. He had two opportunities to kill him, but refused to do it.”
Victoria leaned forward.
“So what you’re telling me is that David knew Saul was corrupt but waited for God to remove him?”
“Exactly.”
“Did David take any steps to prevent God from removing him?”
“No, of course not. It wasn’t his place.”
She nodded.
“Elder Keyser, Elder Jennings, here is what I’m proposing: Your leader, Father Groening, is a corrupt leader. He’s gone rogue, condemning his own granddaughter to be stoned to death. I suspect that God didn’t approve of that move and took steps to prevent it from happening.”
“God had nothing to do with it! It was Nicodemus Downing who stopped the stoning.”
“Doesn’t God sometimes use ordinary people to carry out his will?”
Keyser started to retort, but stopped. He stared at her with his mouth half open, then closed it. Victoria pressed on.
“I submit to you that God prevented Maggie Downing from being killed, and now he is acting to remove Antiochus Groening as head of your congregation. If you refuse to testify, you are impeding God’s will.”
“That makes no sense,” Jennings said. “Why would God use the Federation to remove His anointed prophet?”
“Why would he use the Philistines to remove King Saul? An enemy nation, a pagan nation.”
Surprise lit Jennings’ eyes. Victoria smiled.
“I wasn’t kidding earlier. I went to Sunday school. I know these stories.”
“Why would God do that?” Keyser asked. He still looked troubled.
“What, remove Father Groening?”
“Yes. Why would He do that?”
“That’s an excellent question. But look at recent history—Father Groening started a war that got thousands of people killed, most of them from your congregation. That cast a negative light on your people, and now attention is focused on your people again with this case. Maybe God isn’t pleased that Groening’s actions have brought such reproach on your community.”
Keyser sat back, conflict in his eyes. He stared at her for a long time. Jennings sat silent, as if struggling with his conscience.
“So you want me to tell the outside world that Father Groening is a corrupt leader?”
“No. I just want you to tell what happened. No judgments, no embellishments. Just the facts as they happened.”
“I…don’t know if I can do that.”
“You believe in truth, don’t you? Full disclosure?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Elder Keyser, if you refuse to testify, I can compel you to do so. You’ve already been subpoenaed, and a subpoena amounts to a court order. Refusal to obey that order will result in contempt of court, which means you will go to jail.”
“For how long?”
“Until you change your mind. It could be a very long time.”
She softened her voice.
“I don’t want it to come to that. Again, all I’m asking from you is that you honor your commitment to what’s right, and telling the truth is always right.”
The two men exchanged glances again. Neither of them spoke, but Jennings shook his head. Keyser turned to Victoria again.
“Just us? You don’t want the others to testify?”
“I would like them to, but I really only need one of you. But, if none of you will cooperate, I will have you all locked up until someone is willing to talk. Again, I don’t want to do that, but the Court has to hear the full story, and to that end, I will employ any and all tools at my disposal.”
She stood abruptly.
“You have until Friday to decide. Until the trial, the Federation will put you up at a hotel here in Lucaston. You will not leave town. Are we clear?”
“Are we under arrest?”
“No. Only Elder Billings is under arrest, but the rest of you will be our guests until the Court no longer needs you. You are under subpoena, and any of you who decides to return home without permission will be placed in custody.”
Both men got to their feet, looking as if they were about to be led to the gallows.
“Tell the truth, gentlemen,” Victoria repeated. “That’s all I ask. Just the truth. And think of your congregation; what will happen to them if you all end up in prison? Who will lead them, and with what ultimate consequences?”
She handed them each a business card.
“Call me when you’ve made a decision.”
As they filed out, Victoria stepped into the corridor and saw James Dillon approaching. Her eyebrows lifted.
“That was quick,” she said.
Dillon grinned. “I turned Billings over to a deputy for the trip to DOC.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re back.” She pulled him out of earshot of the elders. “I want these guys in separate hotels. I think a couple of them might crack, but if they’re able to get together, the others may talk them out of it. Keep a guard on each one. Anyone who tries to leave town is to be arrested for defying a court order. Okay?”
Dillon nodded.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Chapter 11
Thursday, February 4, 0444 (CC)
On Thursday, confident that Brian Godney had the Groening case under control, Victoria returned to the Wallace Frie case. She had barely got started when her desk comm rang. She punched the Receive button.
“Victoria Cross.”
There was a brief silence on the other end—the cal
l was voice-only—and then a gruff male voice filled her ear.
“This is Elder Keyser. You said I should call you…”
“Yes! How are you this morning, Elder Keyser?”
“I’m…troubled.”
“I see. I’m sorry.”
He ignored that.
“I was up most of the night. In prayer.”
She frowned, but softened her voice.
“I understand. What have you decided?”
Keyser cleared his throat, then hesitated before answering.
“The Bible says to render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, and unto God what is God’s.”
“I remember reading that.”
“Well…after a lot of thought and prayer, I have concluded that this is a matter that belongs to Caesar. So…”
He cleared his throat again.
“I guess I am willing to testify in your court. But only to what I saw and heard. I will not make any accusations or judgments against Father Groening.”
Victoria closed her eyes in relief. She was glad Keyser couldn’t see her smile.
“Thank you, Elder Keyser! You are doing the right thing.”
“I sincerely hope so. What…what do you want me to do now?”
“Just sit tight for today. Relax and catch up on your sleep. Mr. Godney will call you in tomorrow to firm up your testimony, and you will testify on Monday.”
“Very well.”
“I’ll have the other elders released and they can return home. You won’t have to face them in court and they won’t know exactly how you testified. Hopefully they won’t cause you any trouble over this.”
“Oh, they will cause plenty of trouble. But you were right, Miss Cross—you may be a woman, but you were right. Telling the truth is always the right thing.”
Victoria spoke to him another couple of minutes, then disconnected and rang Brian Godney.
“You’ve got Elder Keyser,” she told him. “He’s ready to meet with you tomorrow for witness prep.”
“Good work, Vic! I didn’t think any of those old fuckers would open up.”
She smiled.
“Careful, Brian. I know how you feel about these people, but don’t let it show. They are hypersensitive, and if you even twitch the wrong way, you can scare them off.”
“Got it. I’ll be good.”
“Okay. How’d it go with Nicodemus Downing?”