Chapter 3 Three Pages
Wisdom was not sure about this either, but he hesitated to tell his mother so. He had not expected to be selected as a City Council page and had felt too honored to turn it down. Now here he was, being dropped off by his mother Reason in front of City Hall, wearing his best white shirt and tie, and sporting a page’s ID badge bordered with City colors. Other pages, some known to him, were entering the building, all of them middle schoolers like himself. They would be surprised to find that a Heavenite boy had been chosen to be among them.
Reason looked at him worriedly out the window of her little Kia Forte. “You realize you can call me any time if this doesn’t seem to be working for you, and I’ll come pick you up?”
“Sure, Mom, but I’ll be fine.”
“No matter how important somebody else says this is, you don’t have to keep doing it.”
“Right. I know.”
“And you won’t do anything against your conscience?”
She looked so worried that his heart went out to her. “They said about all we’ll do is run messages and use a copy machine and stuff like that. We don’t have a chance to be bad.”
“Yes, of course. Well, try to enjoy yourself. I’ll pick you up after I get off work.”
When she had pulled away, he joined two girl pages who attended his school. One was icy, blonde Alexandra Disdain, daughter of the rich and influential Disdains. The other was his neighbor Prevarica Leasing. Her family was not well off like Alexandra’s, but on occasion Prevarica could be every bit as snobbish. She was dressed oddly for the fine spring weather, not only wearing long sleeves but even light gloves. The small openings above her sleeves’ cuff buttons had been sewn shut. She had explained to others at school that she had a skin condition that called for such measures and so had to dress this way everywhere. Skinny and dark haired, she was prettier than Alexandra, more animated, and far more glib and clever. She would have been more popular than the rich girl if she had not again and again proved herself to be utterly selfish, unreliable, and cruel. Despite these traits—or perhaps because of them—Wisdom had become infatuated with her years before and remained so.
Both girls were a year older than Wisdom’s thirteen, and one year can be a mile wide chasm for middle schoolers. But respecting his status as a fellow page, the girls accepted him in their company as they stood on the sidewalk near the Hall’s great main doors. This was the first day of the City Council’s special sessions to discuss, and eventually vote on, the Mayor’s Plan for rejuvenating the City, and Prevarica spoke of the Plan enthusiastically and at length.
“Mayor Therion is going to save the City’s finances,” she was saying at the moment, “and we get time off from school to be here and watch history be made, even listen to the debates, while we help our Councilmen. My Councilman is Mr. Fear. Who’s yours?”
She meant that each page had been assigned to a specific member of the Council for the weeks of sessions. Wisdom mentioned that he had been chosen by Mr. Fencesitter, the moderate who represented Sandhill Township where Wisdom lived. Alexandra murmured that she was assigned to her own father, the chair of the council.
Wisdom had nothing he wanted to say about this, but Prevarica was never at a loss for words. “Oh, how nice for you! Of course, you’re accustomed to the halls of power, aren’t you? Born to it. Do you know, I think you and I are the only pages here whose families have City Seals on their houses? I’m so glad you’re here so I don’t feel alone.”
“Really? Are we the only two?” Alexandra said with perfect calm. “Funny you would know that. I don’t pay attention to such things.”
“No, of course not. Who does?” Prevarica said hastily. “It’s not something we want to draw attention to, is it? Oh, hello, Mr. Fencesitter!”
The Councilman had stepped near them and had laid a hand on Wisdom’s shoulder. He was a man of about fifty, heavy, always smiling slightly.
“Good morning, Prevarica and Alexandra. I just wanted to especially welcome my page. How are you, Wisdom! Feeling nervous? Believe me, not a thing to worry about. All of you will do fine.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fencesitter,” was all Wisdom could think to say. He still did not understand why Fencesitter had chosen him from among scores of applicants, especially considering that he was the son of a foreigner, his father Truth, and of a converted Heavenite, his mother Reason. Add to this that his skin was brown and his hair curly due to his father being black, and his presence here seemed odd indeed. Still both his grades and behavior at school had been stellar. He was known as something of a genius: did that have something to do with it?”
To his surprise, Prevarica now spoke up on the subject of his selection, boldly and embarrassingly.
“Mr. Fencesitter, everyone in my neighborhood thinks it’s just splendid that you chose someone black for your page. When you count Aggie Chin, that gives us two who are—” she hesitated briefly “—adding diversity to the group.”
Fencesitter accepted this comment serenely. “Yes, diversity is what we’re always trying to achieve, though I have to mention that unfortunately little Aggie didn’t make it after all. You may remember that Sterling Reputation was the Council’s original choice until it was discovered that, at twelve, he is under the age limit. However, we voted Friday evening to make an exception in Sterling’s case. His father argued eloquently that no one else would do as his page.”
Prevarica nodded cheerfully to this.
“But about Wisdom, remember that he’s also a Heavenite, Prevarica. That’s just as important as his race. I advocate tapping the ideas and resources of everyone in the City, including its treasured ethnics such as the Heavenites. How else can we succeed with the Mayor’s Plan unless we use every rich vein of ore available to us? No, some might have hesitated, fearing censure from those who are prejudiced, but I could see the right thing to do. I like to say that doing the right thing is always the right thing.”
“Oh, of course, Councilman,” Prevarica simpered happily.
“And think of what it will do for him,” Fencesitter went on, enjoying his own flow. “My boy, take every advantage of this situation while it lasts. You should be able to pick up a great deal of polish, since you’ll be in the company of a Disdain, a Leasing, a Reputation, a Tradition—and all the other pages. Of course, I know that you’re justly distinguished for your intellect, but you’ll find in this world it’s not just what you know but who you know. Come, shall we go in now?”
Following many others, they passed along a short hallway that led to the foyer. This hallway was decorated with posters that announced the City’s Land Opportunity Picnic that was to take place in a few days. The sale of some of the desolate land outside the City limits, Wisdom knew, was at the heart of Mayor Therion’s highly touted plan to bring back a roaring prosperity.
They entered the great foyer of City Hall, high ceilinged and marble floored. A few statues of famous citizens stood in niches along the walls. More prominent, and certainly more impressive than these, however, was the new 3-D image of the mayor that stood in the center of the floor. This was a technological marvel made of light. Except for the glow of it, you might have thought that Mayor Therion himself was standing on a black, triple layered pedestal. For the image ‘lived,’ moved, could even speak. It looked rather better than the real Therion, for unlike him it was not disfigured by a turban of bandages around the head.
The real Therion had been hurt in an accident three years previously while attending the City Seal ceremony at Prevarica’s home, and though functioning, he had never completely recovered. Wisdom knew that the explosions on Sandhill Street had been due to the gunnery of the Heavenite warship Gloria Dothan, as ordered by Ambassador Grace. Therion and the other City authorities had never admitted to this. They had at first made up the ridiculous story that an accidental fire in Leasing House had led to the explosion of a fictitious oil tank across the street. More recently, the di
saster was being vaguely credited to some sort of terrorism, with hints that Heavenites with bombs were responsible. But nothing was being clearly said, and Heavenites were still being treated with some respect.
Fencesitter and the three pages drew to a halt before the Mayor’s image, the first, they knew, of many that were to be set up at various favored places around town: the Mammon Mart, the Civic Center, even certain churches. The machinery of the image somehow detected them, for the 3-D Mayor began to speak, his handsome face smiling, his hands gesturing.
“Welcome, citizens,” he said in warm tones, “welcome to City Hall. You are privileged to live in one of the finest communities around, and I am proud indeed to serve as your Mayor.”
As it continued to speak, Wisdom was shocked to see Prevarica slip down to her knees before it, her head bowed. He looked to Fencesitter with wide eyes.
The Councilman put a finger to his lips. “Don’t be disturbed,” he whispered. “More and more citizens are choosing to venerate the Mayor through his image. Prevarica is doing well.”
The image was soon done with its spiel about the past and future glories of the City. Prevarica rose and joined the others as they ascended wide stairs toward the Council Chamber. Wisdom could not help looking at her, to try to read her face. She looked thoughtful, looked, yes, even religious. So humble.
Now she noticed him and smiled wanly. “Don’t worry, Wiz,” she said. “It’s just what we’ll all be doing. Put your trust in the Mayor, and you get a sort of inner peace that’s like nothing else. There’s no one like him.”
He found nothing to say to this. As they continued up to the chamber, he looked back to see if anyone else would approach the image and bow down to it. Sure enough, it was talking again, and two other pages, a boy and a girl, were on their knees before it.