The Inquisition is after Sam.
It was time to run and hide. Where could I go? Perhaps there was an underground working against the government. It was my only hope. I would go to Mirabelle’s apartment. She was my best chance, although there was the possibility that she would report me to the authorities. I had to risk that. I needed time to figure a way out of this mess. Until I knew more I was an easy target. Capture would be unpleasant.
From what I knew of history and the dreaded Catholic Inquisition of the 12th and 14th centuries in Europe I was scared out of my mind. Not only was I fearful of the torture and the pain, a modern interrogation would be far more imaginative and refined. With such technological advancements as anti-gravity and an understanding of unified theory, their thugs might force me to confess my experiments in reality travel. They even force me to divulge the procedure for crossing realities. My own world of R-Prime might be in mortal danger.
Mirabelle had not moved. She must have overheard part of Tandy’s warning and that she had been observed along with me. Yet, her face was serene. She was smiling. What was she thinking? When she spoke her voice was calm and controlled.
“Secman Candel, please come with me.”
Mirabelle’s request was not that of a frightened woman. Something was not right. She should have been badly shaken up from Father Bocus’s unwelcome attentions as well, just as she was when the hoodlums attacked her.
“I can’t go home with you, Mirabelle. I am a wanted criminal.”
My words should have shocked her. She astonished me by smiling. Aiding and abetting a wanted person in any age was dangerous. In this world it would condemn Mirabelle to severe penalties … probably even death.
“What will they do to you, Sam?” she murmured with an assurance I did not understand.
Who was she? This was a side of Mirabelle I had not seen or imagined.
“I don’t know, Mirabelle. I’m already in trouble for something I did this morning … and for having a bad record for church attendance,” I added sarcastically.
“Let’s go quickly. After we get to my place you can decide what to do,” she said.
Her helpless female facade had fallen away. Even the tenor of her voice was lower, more confident.
It was not until we got back to her apartment and the television screen in her front room clicked on with the evening news that I fully understood her remarkable transformation. My face was on the screen. The newscaster was speaking.
“This man, Sam Candel, is impersonating a security officer. He is wanted for serious crimes against the state. If you have seen this imposter report him to the nearest security office. Failure to report is a class two felony.”
I looked at Mirabelle to judge her reaction. She had an enigmatic smile on her face. Why hadn’t she panicked and run for the nearest security man to report me? Barely an hour before I had listened to her as she stood before the church congregation and testified that some unknown admirer had broken a silly law and she was ratting on him. I was far guiltier of much greater offenses than that man was. Yet she was treating my dilemma coolly and without emotion. I didn’t understand.
“Mirabelle, you have become a different person. When I burst in on you Bocus was about to hurt you. In Bocus’ study you were hysterical, a helpless victim. Now, when you know I’m a fugitive you seem unaffected.”
Her short laugh was a grunt of derision.
“I could have gotten away from that fat slug. He has tried to seduce me before. I know his tricks and I could have handled him.”
I needed answers.
“Mirabelle, who the hell are you?”
“Trust me Sam, without explanations. I will take you to someone that can help you to safety,” she replied. “It was plain from our first meeting you are not the usual run-of-the-mill Secman. I encouraged and staged that run-in with those slugs in the alley. I had been told about your actions in the food riot this morning. I was … curious about you. No pig of a Secman ever did anything like that for a civilian.”
She smiled and the smile was bitter.
“Usually they join in the fun.”
Mirabelle and her friends were well organized.
“I trust you, Sam. In spite of what you think I have more to lose by helping you than you can imagine.”
My suspicion became certainty. She was part of the underground.
She smiled scornfully and with a haughty lift of her chin, she declared, “Before I would let that poor misfit, Bocus, take my self-respect. I would have hurt him badly. I’ve learned to defend myself pretty well. Luckily, you saved me the trouble.”
My ideas of being a great hero were deflated considerably.
Next episode: The underground takes Sam under its wing, but to what new dangers?
Gene Paleno is an author and illustrator living in Witter Springs.
