"Yours is quite a case, and of course I understand it. I think I had
a quick insight into it the moment I spotted the arrest report on
you. You're really lucky I happened to go through the arrest reports
a little while ago, and got to you before the three Deacons who
interviewed you returned. They were going to interview you some more."
"Yes. I'm very lucky." My voice was flat, lifeless.
He leaned back easily in the chair. For all that he was thick-set, he
was graceful. He was handsome. His head, and deep, pleasant voice, and
the cut of his porcelain features all were handsome. Trust in me,
said this handsomeness, I am a father to all men.
"Naturally, we want to excuse your actions, and all the infractions
you have committed in your rather desperate struggle for escape from
your situation. Of course we'll have to re-evaluate your Emotional
Adjustment Category. It must be very low by now. And I think I'll be
able to assign a new name to you, and have it justify."
Funny, here was the thing I'd sought and fought for, and now I had it,
and this was the end of the long fight, and I didn't feel triumphant at
all. I didn't even feel pleased. Funny.
The chief said, "You can undoubtedly find a post suitable to a lower
E.A.C. You can work your way up again. At least you'll be on productive
status and have all the privileges that go with it."
"Yes," I said. "Yes, I suppose so."
"So there's really nothing to worry about now, is there?"
"No, I suppose not."
"There's just one little thing I'd like to go into before I take the
steps necessary to get you on your feet again." Even his magnificent
poise couldn't conceal the feather touch of slyness then.
"One little thing?" I asked.
* * * * *
The pain was with me again. My body wasn't flesh; it was all raw,
clinging pain.
"We'll have to know who started you on your little quest. Who
influenced you to try to have your name changed."