Sam stuns the underground leaders with the Constitution.
I followed her. Ten feet ahead, her torch glimmered on the smooth surface of a wooden door. I guessed we were somewhere underneath the center of the abandoned building above. Mirabelle tapped on the door several times in code. The door opened and yellow light streamed into the tunnel.
“Come in, Mirabelle. Bring your friend with you,” a deep voice said.
Like lumps of stone I saw a dozen men and women sitting at a table. The table was in the center of a low ceilinged, dimly-lit basement room. The speaker was a middle aged man with a beard. His features were coarse and heavy. A pair of black penetrating eyes stared, filled with suspicion.
“Is this the one?” he growled.
“Yes. The Secmen are after him. I removed his locator sensor.”
The man whistled silently.
“No Secman would permit that.”
“He did.”
She took a handkerchief from her purse and handed the crushed sensor to the speaker. He studied the broken fragments and looked at me with an expression of awe.
“All right, Secman. Who the hell are you?”
The truth was impossible. I could hardly tell these people that I was man from another reality.
“They’re chasing me because I forced the officials of a food rationing office to give up their rations to a mob.”
“We know that,” he said. “Why? Secmen never interfere with the crooked ration officials.”
There was a hard edge to his voice when he added quietly, “The security forces have tried before to infiltrate our organization.”
There was no doubt in my mind that I was a gone goose if I was not able to convince him of my sincerity. If they executed Sam Cago as a spy Samson Candella might also die.
“It was wrong to short change and cheat those people. They were hungry.”
He turned to the others, looking for their reaction or comment. Doubt was plain on their faces. The room was silent.
Mirabelle interrupted.
“He also aced the local Church Deacon, Bocus, when he tried to seduce me again,” Mirabelle added matter of factly.
“Really? Humph. That old bastard never stops trying,” he said.
For the first time the shadow of a smile broke the hardness of his features.
“Did you kill him?”
“No,” I said. “I gave him a shot of paralysis. I don’t like the idea of killing unless it is to protect my own life. Killing him might have caused Mirabelle a lot more trouble.”
A woman spoke.
“He sure as hell doesn’t act like a Secman, Paul.”
My interrogator said, “I’ve been doing some checking. During the last 24 hours you haven’t fit the usual pattern or habits of a Secman. Why?”
I had to be careful in what I was about to say next. Mirabelle and the others were part of a well organized conspiracy. I did not dare tell them that I had traveled across the reality tracks from another universe. They wouldn’t believe me anyway.
I was walking a tight wire.
“The change in my personal attitude toward the state has been going on for a long time. It just came to a head,” I explained. “I have had enough of the state’s brutal methods. A patriot is not a person who leaves their brain outside the door and picks up crayons and a coloring book instead of using his intelligence. I wanted to believe in our original Constitution again, not the illegal pap everyone is fed.”
Paul grunted.
“You must know, Cago, that to mention the original contents of that Holy Document, Candel, is a Class four felony.”
I touched a nerve. The Constitution was a sacred document and I had memorized parts of it. As they waited for my answers, I recited the First Amendment.
Next episode: The words of the ancient Constitution saves Sam’s life.
Gene Paleno is an author and illustrator living in Witter Springs.
