A Penny in Time Chapter 8: To Be (part 1)
Just a few minutes ago, the chambers had been filled with Monosapiens, but now at a glance, it was empty. Sitting on the hard bench with Yugo on my lap, we might as well have been on an island, with no hope of being rescued. Yugo must have felt bereft, too, for he burrowed against my cheek and clung to me as I stroked him. He whimpered and I looked down into his teary brown eyes.
“Hush, so I can think,” I scolded him gently. It worked, for he drew a deep breath and I could tell he was trying to make himself feel brave. I know I was.
I wouldn’t do a bit of good for Yugo if I didn’t come up with some sort of argument in his defense. The first thing I had to do was erase those five faces of the Perfect Council from my mind. I forced myself to calm down, breathing in, letting go, remembering the conversation I had had with Mr. D, trying to figure out what could be wrong with the “perfect society”. Yugo wasn’t the problem, and I doubted he’d be the last misbegotten to show up. They couldn’t just throw the baby out with the bath water and call it a clean issue.
A couple of things occurred to me, but I wasn’t sure how to work them into a case for us. Mr. D had made such a point of the “self-perpetuating society”, but even though I suspected this might be the key to the puzzle, I couldn’t come close to knowing why.
Time ran out. As the five judges took their seats in front of me, the courtroom pulsated with voices and scuffling bodies as the seats were filled up.
“Elizabeth Conner, come forward!” commanded Judge Ludwig.
My hands were cold and clammy, and in spite of Yugo’s reassuring kisses on my neck, I felt myself quaking. The place suddenly got real quiet.
I stood and wobbled a little as I approached the panel of judges. Yugo loved me, loved me, loved me. As I held him tight, I responded, I love you, too.
“What have you got to say, Elizabeth Conner?” asked Judge Ludwig as the others eyeballed me.
“I don’t understand why you want to kill Yugo.”
“Let me clarify,” Judge Ludwig folded his hands and leaned against the table. “There are moral issues: partnership and family; economics, for there is no provision outside of the family to support the misbegottens; therefore, misbegottens create an imbalance in our society. It is by far, the best and kindest solution to the problem of caring for the misbegottens to remove them from our society.”
Suddenly, he no longer scared me, he just seemed like a total jerk. “Why don’t you come out and say it’s murder?”
“Because Elizabeth Conner, we do not consider it a moral judgment. This is not an issue of love or hate. We cannot tolerate imbalance. Is that all you have to offer as a defense?”
Something snapped inside of me and all the anger I felt came out in a rush of words. “How can you call yourselves a ‘perfect society’? Couples stay together even if they don’t love one another, and for what, appearances? Is that perfection or harmony or balance? NO! it is a lie! You wouldn’t have a society if not for a lot of individuals—and the good of one is just as important as all of you! This is not a perfect society! Your premise is built on a pyramid of half-truths. You are a society of liars and murderers, and that is a moral judgment!”
Was it only me shivering, or did I feel a tremor throughout the room? Chairs scraped. The natives are restless, I thought to myself, hoping that they might be shaken out their indifference.
“What is the real problem?” I challenged. “Just come out and say it!”
The five judges glared at me. Mrs. Furbal spoke up in a clipped, deliberate voice. “There is no provision, Elizabeth Conner, for the support of a misbegotten. There is only so much in resources available to each family unit. Our economic system is based on that precise balance. That is the crux of the problem,” she spat, flicked the file folder shut and tossed her drab mane of hair with an air of finality.
The one sitting next to her, a man-thing in reading glasses, added haltingly, “We cannot afford to feed and shelter misbegottens.”
“Precisely, Mr. Reader,” Mrs. Furbal said and smiled her little snobbish smile.
I was stunned! “You mean, it’s all a matter of money?” It gave me the same feeling I had when my Dad bought me expensive presents, like money was really more important than spending an honest hour being with me.
I juggled Yugo so that I had a hand free to dig into my jeans pocket. I pulled out the five pennies, stepped up to the table and smacked them down right in front of Judge Ludwig. “It’s all I have, but take it! Yugo’s going home with me!”
I don’t know what I had done or said to affect a freeze frame in the proceedings, but I knew in an instant it was major. Yugo twittered, like he was both thrilled and frightened. All five of the panel appeared dumbfounded; Judge Ludwig stared at me flabbergasted, Mrs. Furbal’s hand froze midway between the table and her mouth, the man beside her had his glasses half on, half off, and the other two on the committee stared at me with their mouths gaping. There was a huge gasp, like everyone sucked in a big breath and held it.
I took a step away from the table and did a quick scan of the room. Mr. D walked towards me, his head high, looking very serious.
He came beside me, encircling me with his arm. “I claim the misbegotten, Yugo, and take responsibility for Elizabeth Conner’s safe return home.”
Judge Ludwig composed himself, but not without a slight stutter. “She, um, she must take back the coppers.”
I didn’t hesitate one minute to sweep the coins up and pocket them. I was ready to turn around and get out of there, but Mr. D didn’t make a move to leave.
“This is all so unprecedented!” Judge Ludwig huffed.
“What is it that you mean, Mr. dIAmand, to claim the misbegotten?” demanded Mrs. Furbal, ticking her fingernails on the tabletop.
“I mean to say that I will assume parental responsibility for Yugo.” Mr. D hugged me, then dropped his arm to his side.
