CHAPTER 18
The Goddess offers things
all your science never can; hope and love foremost of all. Your worldly knowledge may answer questions
of where, when and how. But only She
can answer why. As long as there are
people who listen to their hearts, T'Chen will be welcome in this World.
- Artiphanes,
"Memories of Heaven"
So
great were the antagonistic crowds which had gathered outside the senate
building that Sarwin and Kleesic had to be smuggled inside through a back
entrance, disguised as custodians.
Fortunately, their gray skin made them look like believable servants,
but Sarwin found the charade humiliating.
He was sure another way could have been found to get him inside and was
convinced the conservatives wanted to take every opportunity to embarrass him.
As
soon as they were safely within the building, he shed the white overalls and
cap they had given him, exposing a fine suit underneath. Defiantly tossing the offensive garment on
the floor behind him like a discarded tissue, he walked over to a life-sized
bust of a deceased senator he'd never heard of and placed the white janitor's
cap on its marble head. He then strode
off down the cavernous corridor toward the main senate chamber, trying to look
both more dignified and confident than he felt.
Kleesic
removed his over-whites with much less grace, hopping and spinning on one foot
until he could pull his last leg free.
He then picked up his jumpsuit and Sarwin's and rolled them into a tight
ball. He also grabbed the hat that his
boss had placed upon the statue and left it neatly on a nearby table, along
with the overalls. Picking up his heavy
satchel of legal briefs, Sarwin's attorney bounded to catch up with his
striding friend and client, finally settling into a quick pace beside him.
"Aren't
you behaving a little impetuously, Sarwin?" he asked quietly, so that the
glowering handlers who followed would not hear, "We wish to win the
senate's approval, not have them flog us in the square."
Sarwin
was unapologetic. "We must be
completely confident in ourselves, Kleesic, if we are going to win this
thing," he defended in a hushed whisper, "These tyrannical theologian
types prey on weakness. They will be
looking for it. If we show them even the
slightest chink in our armor, they will attack ferociously. I have dealt with them before. Despite what the Scrolls espouse about the
goodness of mercy, expect no quarter from the likes of these. You may know the details of the law, but I
know how these people think."
"I
see," acquiesced the larger Ordinary.
Kleesic had rarely seen this side of Sarwin before. He usually displayed a rather reserved
demeanor, occasionally becoming more assertive when he got to talking about
freedom from entrenched theological dogma, but now he was absolutely aggressive;
antagonistic even.
Sarwin
was quiet now. His mind was completely
occupied with how he would convince the senate to let him travel into the past,
as they planned to do early in the coming new year. Year 5456. He
recounted the points of the arguments he had ready. Month of Cartoth. He tried to anticipate every potential objection they might raise
against his case. Day five. And he prepared counterarguments to fend
those off. Seventeenth hour.
They approached the tall, double
doors to the main senate chamber. A sentry
uniformed in the purple and black of the temple guard put up his hand,
motioning for them to wait. The two
Ordinaries knew they would be called in as soon as the assembly was ready. Kleesic took the moment to check himself and
his client over, making sure they looked professional and confident. They did.