Chapter 30 The Confiscation
Old Conscience was in such high spirits as he dressed that he lost half a tie tack in his haste and had to fetch Reason to find it. This she soon did, though oddly enough she had to remove her glasses to do so.
“You wouldn’t be so happy, grandfather, if you knew all that’s about to happen,” she said after the hunt. “Mrs. Orchard is due to arrive soon, and not everyone in the house is quite happy about it. There may be scenes.”
“Faith? A good woman. None better. But what about the Ambassador?”
“He’s coming, too, but Faith first.” She laughed. “If you had ever come to the Embassy when I asked you umpteen times, you’d understand.”
“My place was here,” he said with the unanswerable air of the expert. He finished knotting his tie.
“But grandfather,” she said, folding his collar, “are you ready to serve Grace instead of Pride? Your life will be so different.”
He fixed her with a clear eye. “I foresaw the whole thing when you started seeing that preacher.”
She was cheerfully embarrassed. “Oh well, we’d better get downstairs.” She paused. “Grandfather—I think you should know that Truth and I are, well, that we’re not just counselor and client anymore. Our relationship is more personal now. He’s a perfect gentleman, you know that; but I’ve got to know—” She touched the old man’s sleeve. “—if you mind that he’s black?”
Conscience smiled. “Age and prejudice are not synonymous,” he said.
“Then you don’t mind? You know that he’s a good man?”
“You have my blessing.” He put his arm around her shoulders.
From far below the sound of the front doorbell echoed through the house. They looked at each other in mild alarm.
“They really are quick,” said Reason.
“Let’s go downstairs,” her grandfather said.
It was too late to take back what he had done. Pride stretched fully clothed on his bed and tried to calm himself. Doubt bent over the dressing table, her face turned from him, her shoulders shivering.
“It’s a funny thing,” he said more to himself than to her. “You just sign your name to a piece of paper and your whole life changes, or so they say.”
“They won’t come,” said Doubt, still turned from him. “What would they want with this hideous place? It’s all loss for them, as much work and money as they would have to put into it to bring it up to their standards.” She nervously knocked over some bottles on the table and set them right again. “Maybe some other houses would be acceptable to them, but not this one.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“Quickly,” she said, turning a tear-streaked face to him, “lock the front door. Then call the Embassy and tell them you won’t do it. That way you’ll never have to experience their rejection. You know how horribly depressing that would be.”
“No, I’ve already signed the house over—”
“According to their law, not ours!”
“—and besides, I’ve got to know if their King really exists.”
“Their King? Oh, save us! What do you know about Him? Leave it to you to treat favor with a government right out of the dark ages, an absolute monarchy, no less. What is their King to you? If he exists, he’s a tyrant, someone who follows his own interests like everyone else. He’ll use you and then throw you aside.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad as long as he would use me my whole life.”
She looked at him with beaten eyes. “Have you forgotten the eviction notices?”
“Well, drat it, Humility explained about that. They just want to occupy the place, not evict us. If we cooperate—I myself am going to cooperate—”
The front bell sounded, and Doubt swore.
“You see?” he said. “They have come.”
He got up from the bed and found that his hands were shaking. Doubt’s face held an expression of pure terror. They stumbled together and, for the first time in their marriage, embraced.
Then they went to answer the door.
After Humility phoned her, Faith Orchard drove over from the Embassy alone. She was to test the receptivity of Pride House. If she was allowed in, the others would follow; if she was shut out, so would her family be, and Grace and Truth. She drove in darkness and in rain; a cold, abundant rain that scrubbed at the remains of winter’s grit, seemingly intent on washing out every curb and gutter in the city. What’s more, and this thrilled Faith, it smelled of spring.
She parked in front of the Pride place and, pulling up the hood of her raincoat, ascended to the door. She rang the bell and waited. She was well wetted by the time the two leaves were opened by Pride and Reason. She gave Reason an excited, questioning look, which was answered by a nod and a shy smile. Then she was inside and Humility was hugging her.
“We have our new home,” he said.
Old Conscience stood by looking splendid. Pride was tense as a startled rabbit. Doubt’s friends had not come to the entrance hall, but Doubt herself could just be seen cowering on the landing above.
Throwing back her hood, Faith revealed bright blond hair and the face of an angel. “You come down now,” she called to Doubt. “Come here to me.”
Doubt descended slowly, crouching slightly forward, until she stood before Faith like a sickly child. Faith could hardly bring herself to look at the little woman’s ravaged, half-mad face.
Not having any idea what to do, Faith said, “Let me hold your hands. They look as though they could use some warmth.”
As she reached out Doubt leaped back with a screech. “Not in our house! You with the fire of God all over you!” She pointed, apparently, at the water dripping from Faith’s plaid raincoat.
“The fire of God heals,” Faith said quickly, while trying to catch Doubt’s eye. Doubt’s attention, however, was now on the storm outside, for one of the great double doors had been left open.
“What a night,” she moaned. “You want me to go out in that?” Her breath came raggedly, and she clutched her chest.
“You’re not well,” said Faith, reaching for her. “You need to be in bed.”
“No, don’t touch me!”
Suddenly she dodged around Faith and plunged into the storm outside.
Pride, shifting to where he could see straight out the door, saw that her clothes were soaked before she reached the top of the street stair. There, turning her body in an odd fashion, she fell over and out of sight.
Humility grabbed Pride’s sleeve. “Quick, man.”
In one second they were drenched, and in another they were beside Doubt where she lay half way down the steps. In the light of the street lamp she looked unconscious. Humility got below her and lifted her arms while Pride took her legs. In the few moments it took to carry her in, Pride found that the others had followed them outside. Reason stooped at the top of the steps and plucked a shoe, Doubt’s shoe, from a deep crack in the masonry.
To the side of the entry hall was a couch, and they laid her there. Somebody closed the door at last, muting the crash of rain, and in the relative quiet they became aware of the water dripping from their clothes. When they looked at Doubt’s wet, limp body, she did not seem to breathe. Humility took one of her tiny wrists in his hand.
“What knocked her out?” Pride asked. “There’s no blood. I don’t see the mark…”
Humility reverently laid her arm down. “She’s not knocked out. She’s dead.”
“My God,” Pride said, “she’s had another attack. You could see it starting while she was in here; she was clutching her chest. Somebody call an ambulance.”
“No,” said Humility, “for now she’ll just have to lie as she is. We can cover her up with a sheet or something. Ambassador Grace is taking possession of this house tonight, and we can’t let anything interfere.”
“I’ll call the embassy,” said Faith, and she disappeared into the sitting r
oom.
Reason brought a chair throw and spread it over Doubt. She did not seem very upset.
Pride caught her eye. “I don’t think you’re quite human,”
She said, “Doubt’s sickness was incurable. Her heart was—”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know! You haven’t understood at all. She schemed to have grandfather and me thrown out. And then she would have ruled over this house like a cat over a trashcan, with her weird friends to keep her company. Did you know that?”
Pride could not answer.
“And do you know who her brother is?”
“He’s a—he’s an invalid.”
“He’s Death,” Humility corrected. “She brought Death into this house. Your wife’s plan was to run the place with him. Now do you understand why we’re none too sad to see her gone?”
“He sees,” said Faith, smiling from the sitting room doorway. “Mr. Pride, Ambassador Grace’s limousine is on the way. He’ll be here in a few minutes.
Thunder now exploded overhead and the lights flickered. Retreating to a chair, Pride watched the others talk among themselves, but could not hear them over the storm. His heart was pounding so hard, he feared he might have an attack himself. His palms were sweating and his ears ringing. How, he wailed within, would Grace deal with him? He had no rights now, he had signed them over. All he had was the bare promise of clemency.
Something was terribly wrong. The vague Presence which he had felt all evening seemed now to hover over the place like an enormous, invisible weight. It was not just Doubt’s death: someone, their Heavenly King, was approaching like a bulldozer, like flood waters. He saw strain in the faces of Reason and Conscience; they felt Him too. Faith’s eyes were wide with expectation. Presently, Humility separated himself to look out a window on to the street. He turned and nodded to the others, then approached Pride.
“They’re here now, our Ambassador and our King.”
“Your King?” Pride sat up and clutched both sides of the chair.
“Do you feel Him?” Humility asked. “Our King is going to live here. He’ll live here forever.”
“That’s crazy!” Pride said, staring aghast at the closed front doors. “Your country’s King, He’s in Heaven. Why would he come here?”
Humility paused while the thunder again played with the lights and set the chandelier rocking. “He can live as many places as He wants. He’s both in Heaven and here, you see. That way He rules directly, without go-betweens.”
The Spirit was now on the other side of the door. Pride felt unimaginable power, age, and weight, the compelling demand of a great will upon them all. Reason and Conscience had retreated to a corner, their eyes bright with awe.
“A King,” said Pride desperately, “in a hovel like this?”
“He isn’t a King as the world knows kings,” Humility said. “He’s our Father, and He’s our brother Christ. Not aloof and above it all, check? Right down here with us.”
“I can’t face him!” Pride cried.
Both knobs turned together and the great oaken leaves began to open inward. Pride tumbled to the floor in a faint.
An old man with white hair and searching eyes was leaning over him.
“Just had the fright of his life, I suppose,” said the man. “Say something to me, boy.”
Slowly Pride realized that the same entry hall surrounded him and the same storm was rumbling outside. Perhaps only a moment had passed. Yet everything had changed forever, for God was here.
Pride coughed. “He’s really something,” he said weakly.
“Yes, He is,” agreed the old gentleman, “and He’s done something fine for you by leaving your worthless soul in you. Why don’t you sit up and greet the new era?”
Pride pulled himself up with their help and found his chair. With his mind still fogged, he nevertheless noticed that something was missing, had been dropped or lost. Was it—? Just as he grasped his bare right wrist, the old man picked up from the floor the remains of the electronic bracelet Pride had been made to wear. It was broken in several pieces.
“He gets a bit angry about this sort of thing,” commented the old man.
“But the police,” said Pride. “They’ll know. They’ll come here.”
“Not at all. I called up the authorities before we left the embassy and notified them to stay away. You signed the place over to Heaven, remember?”
“Then you’re the ambassador?”
“Yes, I am, and as I was saying, it appears the world is going to be burdened with you yet. You see, our King is the sort who prefers to expend endless energy repairing something old rather than start new. That’s why you haven’t been tossed aside. Just count it as a gift and take up new duties. That’s what He wants you to do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to see to your wife.”
“Don’t bother, she’s dead.”
“She was,” said Grace, as he turned to the still form on the couch. When he pulled back the cover, everyone saw with astonishment that her face had color, more color in fact than she had ever had. And she was breathing.
Grace mussed her hair lightly. “Wake up, dear. Come on now.”
She opened her eyes.
“Is she—is she all right?” asked Pride.
“She’s fine, healthier than she ever was. But she isn’t Doubt anymore. He’s given her a new name. She’s Honesty now. Come now, dear, let’s get you up.”
Honesty sat up and looked around at them with sober eyes.
“I had another attack,” she said. She began to rub her forehead, but paused to stare at her hand. “I’m not pale.”
“How do you feel?” asked Faith.
“Good,” said Honesty, who looked astonished at her own answer. “Except, it’s so hot in here.”
Grace turned to Humility. “The Pastor and your children followed us in the van. I think it’s time you brought them in, if the rain’s slacked off enough.”
Humility and Faith went to fetch their offspring, and the others drifted to the windows, so that for a moment Pride and Honesty were left alone. He knelt by her and looked into her eyes, which seemed somehow brighter.
“Are you really all right?”
She said, “I just feel hot, that’s all. Actually, I feel like—running a race or something. We’ve, uh, lost the house, haven’t we? I mean it’s all over. No more hope.”
He nodded and they shared distressed looks.
“Do you realize you were dead?” he asked.
“Excuse me.” This was spoken by a third person. They looked up suddenly to find that Confusion had slipped up on them. She spoke with her usual self-possession. “Worry and I have been discussing our status here. With a family as large as the Orchards arriving, and all the chaotic adjustments involved, we think we could surely be of some service at least for a transitional period. Don’t you agree, Doubt?”
“Oh, don’t talk nonsense,” said Honesty. “Can’t you see the game is up?”
Confusion started. “The—the game is? Why, what can you mean, dear?”
At that moment the front doors opened and the Orchard family began to enter, led by Pastor Truth. Behind came the eldest son Joy, stepping with not much less than his usual bounce, despite being laden with luggage.
“What a musty barn!” he whooped. “How are you, Pride? Still playing tennis?”
His sister Love was next. She put down her suitcases and, running to Honesty and Pride, seized their hands.
“What’s the opposite of welcome?” she asked. “Well stayed? Anyway, Mom just told us that you both get to stay, and I’m so happy.”
While she spoke, Pride kept glancing with astonishment out the doorway, to where a seemingly endless line of raincoat clad children were ascending the street steps and crossing the space to the door. All were smiling and excited, and all were talking at once.
Confusion turned and swe
pt up the stairs as if chased by a whole battalion of logic professors.
In a moment the entrance hall was filled with dripping children of all sizes. Grace and Conscience looked on benignly from a safe place behind a heavy piece of furniture. Truth paired off with Reason, and the two of them held hands and smiled at each other and everyone.
Pride heard a dog bark and saw a cat being carried by one of the little girls. Another cat, its twin, suddenly leaped onto the arm of the couch beside him.
“Here, let me introduce my siblings,” said Love. “Faithfulness? Where is she? She’s sixteen, so she’s next oldest after Joy and me.”
A blond teenager was produced. “Hi,” she said merrily. “You aren’t serious people, are you? I’d hate that. I’m still too young to be responsible, and I’m not going to grow up. Have you got a piano?”
With a nervous smile, Pride answered, “Only a very old one. But it’s all covered up. Anyway, you’ve just arrived and—”
“Cooly bob! Where is it? Never mind, I’ll find it.” She dashed off.
“Hello, I’m Patience,” said a boy of about twelve, “and Dad promised I could help dig the grave. I’m not afraid.”
Before this bizarre communication could be explained, Love was pulling more children forward.
“This is Self Control, and he’s ten; and this is Peace, she’s nine; and—where are the twins?”
The moment Love’s hand left his shoulder, Self Control shot off after Patience, who was already examining the wide stair rail for sliding possibilities. The little girl Peace, however, curtsied to them solemnly.
“Pleased to meet you,” she said wispily. “Is it true that I get my own room now? Mom said so. I wanted to have you sign my cast, but the doctor took it off on Wednesday. I broke my wrist.”
“Here are the twins,” said Love. “She’s Goodness and he’s Gentleness, and they’re seven. Dad is holding the youngest, you see? Kindness is five.”
As the children ran off to explore the house, with animals romping alongside, Humility and Faith looked about with reasonable good humor at the sea of discarded coats, suitcases, hats, and gloves.
“It looks like a field of battle,” said Faith, picking up a coat and brushing it with her hand. “Well, I’d better call the police department and make sure they understand not to have Patrolman Pain come back. We can send his things over to the headquarters in the morning.”
Faithfulness found the long-abandoned music room on the second floor, and with her brother Joy’s help tugged off the coverings from the old upright piano. The whole house was soon vibrating to ‘Alexander’s Ragtime Band,’ punctuated by Joy’s attempts to teach himself to play the flute on the spot.
Just across the hallway Worry cowered behind her locked door. Again and again she felt the jarring of the floor as children’s feet ran by, and she moaned in misery as they tried the door, rattling the knob, shouting comments to one another, and sometimes knocking. Once she was sure a dog came snuffling along the bottom of the door. The night seemed endless.
The piano across the hall was joined by a guitar, as Faithfulness, Joy, and Love sang together. Worry heard every word clearly.
She wore all her armor, she shouldered her shield,
Against Love’s strong sieges she surely was sealed;
Behind every bulwark of stone and bar,
She never thought Love could extend so far.
Worry lay on the bed and felt infinitely sorry for herself. Young, foolish Mr. Pride had given way, and now all was lost.
Confusion had not locked her door. The invaders were, she thought, civilized people who would respect her privacy. In a few days perhaps she would have to move out, but for now she would enjoy the evening while perusing an art print book of Salvador Dali’s works, a small teapot resting on a hotplate nearby.
She forced herself to ignore the loud piano music and even refused to look up when a slight shove popped her door open and something slipped into the room. However, when the intruder attempted to climb into her lap, she was forced to acknowledge the dog. A wet tongue extended from a neckless and heavily jawed mutt.
“Go away.”
It remained, wagging its tail. Confusion was never angry. On the other hand, she was now angry, and a little scared. She hated pets of any sort.
“Get lost. Take off.” She shoved the edge of her book at it, but it only backed off a step and returned to sniff the book. At this moment of impasse, the door opened wider and a little girl appeared, wide eyed, still wearing her outdoor hat, but without her coat.
“You found Recoil,” she said, quite pleased. “He’s our dog.”
“Get rid of him, he’s a nuisance.”
The girl advanced until she could examine Confusion minutely.
“You’re one of the bad ladies,” she stated.
“My dear, who told you that?”
“Mom and Dad. My name’s Peace.” She looked around the bedroom, which was decorated in Confusion’s unforgettable style. “Why did they put you in the junk room?”
“You can’t be expected to understand until you’re older,” said Confusion. “Now just go and take your dog with you.”
Confusion detested children.
“I think if all their old junk was cleaned out, that I’d like this room for mine. Mom said I can have my own room now. I’d have a pretty little bed with a pink spread, and my dresser will be there where the plastic rhinoceros head is.”
“This is my room,” Confusion said edgily.
“But you’ll be going tonight.”
Confusion stood and gripped the little girl by the shoulder. “Listen to me, young lady, if you—”
She was interrupted by a low growl emanating from Recoil. The dog’s body had tensed and his tail had stopped wagging. Smiling, she released the girl with a parting pat on the shoulder.
“I’m not leaving tonight,” she whispered through a forced grin. “Oh!”
Both cats had slipped in and were rubbing themselves against her ankles.
Peace exclaimed, “Slice and Dice! This is going to be my room, and you can come here any time you want.”
Confusion retreated from the cats and made for the open door, but found her way blocked by the twins, who eyed her with the same interest which they showed toward spiders and other loathsome playthings. Little Kindness brushed past them with a shout of triumph and advanced to embrace the plastic rhinoceros head.
The singers down the hall had reached the second verse.
He crept under paper, he fled behind thought,
Where semblances were and where Spirit was not;
Within the feigned light of a painted star,
He never thought Love could extend so far.
Intent on a rerun of ‘Three’s Company,’ Tedium had missed the significance of the afternoon meeting at which Pride had signed the house away. Now she was on her way to the kitchen for a snack and as oblivious to the non-recorded music in the house as to the occasional child or animal that whizzed by her. She did not even notice Patience and Self Control who, supplied with a ladder and a box of hundred watt bulbs, were going about filling empty sockets, gradually turning the house into a blaze of illumination. She did mildly resent the resulting glare on her wrist screen.
As she cut through the dining room, someone caught her arm, jerking her to a halt.
“What?” she whined without raising her eyes.
A large hand covered the screen on her wrist, forcing her to look up. Humility held her wrist. Around them the other adults of the New Order were clearing away the paraphernalia of Confusion’s decorating. Her captor yanked her earplug out.
“We’ll give you a few minutes to collect your things, Tedium,” said Humility, “and then you’ll have to leave. We’ve already called a cab for you.”
Tedium shook her head sullenly and tried to pull loose from his grip.
“Dad,” interrupted Patience from the doorway,
“Self Control and I can’t reach one of the lights even with the ladder.”
“Never mind for now, son,” said Humility, as he removed Tedium’s set from her wrist. He tossed it to Patience. “Here, you two take this out on the front sidewalk and play catch with it.”
The two boys dashed off happily with Tedium howling after them.
“OK,” said Humility to the others, “let’s get Joy from upstairs and see if all the men can lift that sarcophagus. I want to take it to the backyard because it looks to be just the size for Edgar.”
The singers had reached the third verse.
When Love pierced through their loves like a knife,
He died like a husband, she died like a wife;
Beneath the sad truth of their deepest scar,
They never thought Love could extend so far.
While the men were moving the sarcophagus, Honesty wandered to the front of the house, where she found Confusion dressed for outdoors, her packed luggage beside her. The tall woman’s face was taut and reddened.
“Doubt,” she said with unaccustomed intensity. “I need to call a taxi, and one of those teenagers has the line tied up.”
“A cab will be here in a few minutes anyway,” Honesty told her. “Humility called it for you.”
Somewhere in the recesses of the house a dog barked and Confusion shuddered visibly.
“You’ll be coming, too?” she said.
“No, the Orchards say they want me to stay.”
“What? In a house full of animals, lunatics, and children? Don’t be ridiculous, hurry upstairs and pack a few things. Or have they done it for you?”
This last remark referred to the appearance of Reason and Faith at the top of the stair, both carrying luggage.
“We threw together a few things for Tedium,” Faith announced, “and the rest can follow. Worry still won’t come out of her room, so I guess she stays for now. Where is Tedium?”
“I think she’s out front,” said Honesty.
They all went out and in the space before the door found Tedium in the last stages of exhaustion. Patience and Self Control were playing ‘keep away’ with her, tossing her wrist TV back and forth over her head. Tedium was frantic and panting.
“Now this is outrageous,” Honesty burst out, her eyes popping. “I suppose they think that this is—” She began to laugh. “—that this is funny. But anyone—ha, ha, ha. Anyone—ha, ha, ha—I’m sorry, Tedium, it’s just that you look so—ha, ha, ha....” She leaned against the house, holding her sides.
Faith and Reason did their best to keep straight faces.
“Let her have it now,” Faith said firmly, and Patience reluctantly tossed the set to Tedium. She clutched it from the air and tried the switch.
“Broke!” she wailed.
“Ha, ha, ha!” Honesty gasped.
“We didn’t break it, Mom. Dad told us we could play catch with it. He took it away from her; he didn’t want her to have it.”
“Never mind,” said Faith. “It was all that rattling it took. It’s dislodged a wire. Anyway, here comes the cab. Tedium, send us a bill, and it will be taken care of; though if you take my advice, you won’t. You’re better off without it.”
Confusion looked down imperiously on Reason. “You think you’ve won, don’t you? Dearest, there are thousands of houses in this city, and your lovely little Heavenly government has managed to flimflam themselves into—just one. And even that won’t last. The police will be here before morning to throw you out.”
Reason was shaken but quickly recovered herself. “Don’t try to frighten me,” she said. “I’ve defected. I’m a foreign citizen now, so they can’t touch me. And the police aren’t coming. Ambassador Grace called the headquarters and told them this house belongs to Heaven.” Her eyes flashed. “And who cares about your opinion anyway? You’re a stranger to simple logic. You haven’t faced a fact in your whole life!”
When the taxi stopped before the house, Confusion and Tedium tamely entered it and were carried away.
In the following hour the younger children were rounded up and put to bed. The rest met in the dining room, from which most of Confusion’s decorating had been stripped.
“There are some locked rooms in the house,” Humility told them, “and we know that Edgar is in one of them. Who knows where he is?”
Honesty broke the silence. “What are you going to do to him?”
“Bury him.”
She backed away from the table. “I’ll give you the key, but don’t expect me to watch.”
“You won’t have to. Just tell us where he is.”
In a few minutes the men were in Edgar’s room. They threw aside the mask from his staring face and, bundling him in a sheet, carried him down to the bleak garden, where the sarcophagus waited. A shovel was produced, and when enough of the patio tiles had been cleared away, Joy, Humility, and Patience took turns digging.
Midnight had passed, leaving a different feeling in the air, a feeling that sobered their excited, sleep-starved minds. They all knew the presence of their Father among them, watching over them. Seemingly the only sound in the city was the sound of the shovel chunking into the dirt.
Grace and Pride stood in the shadows of the building and talked quietly.
“I’m going to plant a rosebush or two over the grave,” the old man said. “I think Edgar will provide good nutrition for them. Actually, what was your plan with this area? It definitely needs something.”
“No plan,” said Pride. “I liked it this way.”
A noise from above distracted them and the shovel stopped for a moment. Someone was on the second story porch that overhung the back door.
“It’s just Reason and me,” Truth called down. “We’re watching from up here. You go on.”
The shoveling resumed.
“Most all of these tiles and white rock can go,” Grace went on, “and we’ll see what we can do about a real garden. I think fruit trees over there along the wall. Maybe a flower clock over here. By the way, Pride, your conviction for assault has been reviewed and you’ve received a royal pardon by our government. You’re a free man again and can go anywhere you want.”
Pride asked, “But how could that be decided so quickly?”
“When your country’s Chief Executive is everywhere at once,” Grace explained, “it speeds things up capitally and eliminates tons of paperwork. You haven’t seen a system until you’ve seen ours in action. We can also have your marriage annulled, you know.”
Pride thought it over. “It always was a farce. Yes, I want it annulled.”
“Honesty has already agreed to it,” said Grace.
A whoop from above drew their eyes upward, and a small object arced across the night sky and landed on the tiles with a tinkle of breaking glass. Pride stepped over and discovered a pair of broken glasses.
“Reason, you’ve dropped your—”
“I know, I threw them!” she shouted. “I’m engaged!”
Part 4 The Wedding of Reason and Truth