The Alternative

Almost before the condemning words were out of the Inquisitor’s mouth, soldiers began to enter the room. Their heavy boots and clanking armor made a terrible din that rang through the hollow stone chamber. With swords draw, the blades held smartly upward, hilts clasped firmly in mailed fists to their steel-armored chest, they surrounded the Givers.

  The Takers broke into uproarious laughter at this last bit of fin and games. They laughed to see some of the nation’s great leaders in such a sorry plight. Indeed, the prisoners all wore hangdog looks and this caused the Takers to double their gales of laughter.

  “Silence!” roared the Inquisitor rising to his feet. “We will not allow you to make a mockery of this tribunal.”

  The laughter trailed off. the room became quiet once again except for the faint rattling of armor and shuffling boots of the soldiers. They stood at attention in a tight circle around the fifty or so prisoners, awaiting further orders.

  The Inquisitor faced the guarded group of Givers below him. The condemned could just see the blaze of his eyes within the shadowy cowl. He appeared to tower over him as he solemnly read their sentence from a small scroll just handed him from the clergy below.

  “For the crime of heresy--there is only one sentence. The soul must be cleansed. Therefor, it is the decision of this tribunal that you all be put to death in the scourging power of the flame. TAKE THEM OUT AND BURN THEM!”

  The last was said with such vehemence, the assembled guests, both the imprisoned Givers and the assembled Takers gasped. They suddenly realized the horrible truth of what was going on. What had seemed like a game at the start was a game no longer.

  It was difficult to see the condemned as whey were well protected by the circle of armored soldiers. From their midst , however, a wailing sound began to rise toward the high vaulted ceiling. The soldiers started to lead the prisoners from the chamber, and as they passed the Takers, could see though the wall of soldiers, faces drained of color--pale and sickly. Some walked with heads bowed, others sobbed. Some were proud and defiant.

  The soldiers marched grimly on each side of the prisoners. Only their hard eyes glittered between the slits in their helmets.

  The Givers were marched from the room, down a wide hall until they slowly began to ascend what appeared to be a great stone ramp. There was little light, but up ahead they could see a patch of stars glittering in the sky.

  The procession moved slowly, almost painfully. Some stumbled and had to be lifted up.

  As they reached the portal and moved out into the chill morning air, it was still dark in the west, but a fait glow began to lighten the easter sky. the prisoners were led down a winding dirt road. The terrain here was strangely different from the greenery of the rest of the estate. It had a desolate, lonely aspect. There were few trees and these gnarled skeletons looked bare and stark in the dim light.

  At length, they were led around a bend in the road and up a small rise to a large flat area. A breeze passed over the guests who were perspiring from their excretions. The wind chilled them and some shook as with the ague. There was a strong acrid odor in the air of something burned. As the assembly looked around, the pale light revealed tall posts stuck in the ground. Someone stifled a terrified sob. The posts were everywhere...at least fifty of them. Dark forms moved among the poles bringing carloads of brush and wood. A husky voice called an order.

  “Hurry--get a move on. We must be ready by dawn!”

  The sky grew slowly brighter and its glow made the faces of the condemned stand out in bold relief against the dark sky to the west. Each wore a desperate, haunted expression.

  Senator Shipley, who was leaning on Kirk from time to time for support, looked up at the young scientist and his voice shook as he spoke.

  “This is all so strange, Kirk. How can we be condemned for something we have always held as our sacred duty?”

  Kirk put a hand on the old man’s shoulder. Only now did he realize how much he loved the aging patriot. One of the worlds great leaders, garbed in the rebel uniform, Shipley dressed as Robert E. Lee must have looked like the rebel general at the moment his defeat, when his beloved South had gone down under the Union banner.

  Mrs. Shipley stood nearby, head bowed. She seemed totally out ot it.

  The Senator was crushed by exhaustion and the pressures of the last hours had drive the last of his great courage from him. Kirk put his arm around the Senator and held him as he’d held his dying father during those tragic moment years ago.

  Suddenly they were pulled roughly apart by one of the soldiers who growled. “There’s no time for that’”

  The soldiers took the Senator to the far side of the clearing and began to tie him to a post. His dignity r regained, Shipley stood proud, and resigned as he was bound to the stake

  Kirk was bound to a stake directly opposite his old friend and to the left of Mrs. Shipley. He could just make out their faces in the pale light. He looked around and was shocked to see his fellow Givers bound and ready for execution. A woman screamed, only to receive a severe clout from one of the soldiers. Her cries changed to a sobbing hiccough, The men were fighting panic and the cords of neck and cheek stood out like ropes.

  The dark forms continued to pile wood and brush around their feet piling it high around their lower legs. At length it was ready. A deep stillness fell over the scene and only the jingle of the mule harness broke the stillness of the dawn.

  The sky was brighter now and those who were tied, turned their heads in the direction of a new sound: a chanting of voiced came from,the direction of the road. In a few moments they were able to see the source of the sound. Entering the area were member of the court. The Grand Inquisitor, priests and others. Bringing up the rear, wearing the white robes of the novitiate, were their former friends and associates, the Takers. Kirk could see Sharon was among them. She was not smiling, but looked frightened as she glanced at the bound figures. Her eyes found Kirk and she stepped toward him crying softly:

  “Kirk?”

  Firm hands pulled her back as the Inquisitor spoke. “Don’t trouble yourself about him, my dear, he no longer exists. Only a part of your memory that would best be forgotten.”

  As sharon turned to look at the Inquisitor, Kirk could see she apparently took comfort from what he said as she resumed her place in group.

  Senator Roger Bracken was there too. He glanced toward Senator Shipley and the old man returned the look. Bracken appeared to shrink under the senior senator’s gaze, though there was no malice written on the old man’s face.

  The high clergy moved with great pomp and dignity the length of the forest of humanity, Now a glittering pageant in their rich robes of white, red and gold. Choir boys in lace adornment held the long train of a bishop above the dirt and mud while he carried a staff on which rested a cross; mounted upside down.

  A rough wooden altar was being prepared for the ceremony. A rich tapestry was used to cover the rough planks. Silver bowls, dishes, chalices as well as candelabra were set upon the alter where guarded candles were lit and a large brazier burned.

  As the celebrants took their places, they faced the condemned and the light from the candles and brazier gave an almost barbaric aspect to the scene. To one side stood the Inquisitor, aloof from the ceremony

  At length a mass began, but this time it was performed in English so everyone could understand. Still, to those who remained bound to the posts, it made little sense.

  “These poor unfortunate souls who have been misguided by well meaning philosophies...”

  The Bishop made motions similar the the sign of the cross, calling to the all powerful to forgive the heretics whose souls were to be cleansed in flame. As the ceremony drew to a close, several priests passed among the condemned sprinkling them with holy water--dispensing it on the wood and brush heaped about the feet of the victims.

  At the alter, the clergy passed a cup among themselves. Presumably the chalice held wine. The
celebrants, however, appear to relish the taste of the liquid more than seemed normal. Indeed, some appeared hesitant to give up the silver bowl once they had taken a drink from it. After they had all partaken of the wine, they turned once more toward the group awaiting execution. The sun was now seated on the horizon and it’s warm light illuminated every face--the condemned as well as their judges whose intoxicated grins contradicted the pious habits they wore.

  Behind the priests the Takers began to chant. The words were not clear, but from time to time, one word---Survival -- predominated.

  The shadowy beings, who had so carefully prepared their human sacrifices now came forward each carrying an unlit torch. The dozen or so forms were led by a tall misshapen phantom, who appeared to have difficulty walking. He clutched at himself with is free hand as if afraid he might fall apart. As they reached the area in front of the altar, they raised their unlighted torches in salute. The Bishop blessed them and the torches were dipped into the flames of the brazier. The flames took hold and the forms started to move among the human tr ees. When the brush was touched by the flames, the victims flinched only slightly, looking pale and horrified as the flames liked upwards. Yet, they didn’t utter a sound

  Yet, there were screams. The agonized sounds didn’t come from the victims themselves. In fact the condemned showed no outward signs of pain but merely began to melt away like so many carved wax candles.

  The screams increased in volume and number, but they came from sources other than the unfortunates who were even now vanishing into the rising flames of the blazing auto-de-fe. The confusion of sound was coming from the audience in the great round auditorium. Once again their presence was evident. The spectators were horrified at the spectacle they witnessed; they were engulfed in it, living it, feeling it. Their faces clearly lit by the blazing inferno. And as each image was set to the torch, his or her counterpart in the crowded theater seemed to bear the pain.

  The audience was also surrounded by fire. Overhead the sky echoed the condemnation of the heretics and hurled down one lightning bolt after another. These flashes of heavenly electricity arced close over the heads of the spectators and added to the pandemonium as it seemed to strike the victims being consumed by the conflagration.

  The tall, misshapen executioner hobbled toward the form of Kirk Miller. He held his blazing torch in front of Kirk’s eyes, so it appeared to the audience like a great ball of flame rolling over them.

  Those who were standing frozen in panic fell back into their seats, terror stricken as they shielded their eyes from the flames. In vain they tried to escape the heat and horror.

  Those with more courage peeked at the screen and saw within the center of the flames, the figure of the awesome executioner and his face in the blinding brightness leering down at them. His manner of dress and skull-like features made them fear they now looked into the very face of death. His figure loomed large before them, almost overshadowing them as he leaned out from the scene.

  Suddenly the flames disappeared and the hot room cooled quickly to normal. Some were left shivering in gowns and tuxedos damp from perspiration. The form hung above them for a few frightening moments. Then, unexpectedly, in one motion, he stripped away the dark hooded robe and gruesome mask and tossed them aside. Now a truly strange sight confronted the spectators and left them more confused. Revealed before them was a gnome like creature on a tall pair of stilts. The stilts had heavy boots attached to them. With a head too large for his body, the little man leaped down as he flung away the stilts. He laughed, did a cartwheel and landed on one knee with arms outstretched. The audience sat dumbfounded as they recognized him to be the court jester from the ballroom scene. With his arms outstretched he seemed to await for their applause. . Some had just undergone an overwhelming experience and were hardly prepared for this last absurdity--this little man who stood before them laughing hysterically. He had a high, squeaking, unpleasant laugh and held his sides as he roared. And just as abruptly, he ceased his laughing, pointed an overlarge finger at the audience and began to chide them”

  “Look at you! Distinguished leaders, important personages of a great nation. One would think to look at you, you were Humpty-Dumpties about to take a great fall,” He laughed gleefully at his simile.

  “How could such intelligent, sophisticated beings be so easily fooled by this fol-de-rol and dumb show? Scared literally half to death. But,” he continued with a knowing sneer,..”Then you haven’t seen the half of it. We’ll give you time to gather your wits, if any,and in a few moments the ushers will show you the way to intermission and free refreshments. Come back in a little while for some real horror.” and with a cackling, high pitched laugh, his form faded before them as the lights in the theater came up.

  The audience, almost as one, heaved a great sigh of relief.

  Sharon Miller was dabbing at her eyes when Kirk turned to look at her. She glanced at him with some difficulty and made an attempt to smile through her t ears.

  “Silly movie,” she finally managed to get out, but was choked with emotion.

  The audience started to come out of their awed stupor. Some shook their heads as if awakening from an hypnotic trance. Small bubbles of laughter could be heard as some decided to laugh, not only at the experience, but at themselves.

  And, so not it was over. Or was it?

  Sharon felt a plucking at her sleeve and turned o fine it was Mrs. Jackson who was seated next to her.

  “Oh, my dear. I’ve seen many thing in my life, but I have never...never seen the likes of that!” the little black lady told her.

  Having recoveredd somewhat, Sharon took the woman’s hand and inquired. ‘Are you all right, Mrs. Jackson?”

  “Oh, oh my dear, yes,” laughed the woman. It takes more than a little insanity to scare me.”

  At that moment off the the left of the auditorium, doors began to open and ushers entered, smiling as they called out to the audience.

  “This way, Please ladies and gentlemen. This way to intermission and free refreshments.”

  The theater crowd began to get up from the seats and start toward the doors.

  “This isn’t the way we came in, Sharon, “ Kirk observed.

  Sharon, without answering him, and still holding The hand of Mrs. Jackson, joined the exodus. Henry Jackson moved out just ahead of them.

  Mrs. Jackson's’ voice was small with just a hint of fright.’ What do you think the strange little creature meant by there’s more horror to come? I r eally don’t see how they can possibly top what we’ve just seen, do you” She said as she glanced around the great circular room that was now innocently swathed in it’s plain white curtain.

 

 

  EIGHT