Francis LaPorte and the Association of Good Fellows

Around the World

Saturday, 5 Nisan, 5693

Francis closed the curtains while Richmond shut the wooden door of the study and locked it. He let out a sigh as he watched the light fade, the fashionable draperies blocking out the dangers of the outside world. He could think of little more hellish than what the last month had been for Garma, and this was a particularly concerning day for the country.

The Good Fellows had called for an act of patriotism — a boycott of all Altruic businesses. What's more, they had ordered the clergy to use their international connections in order to reassure the world of the goodness and righteous peace brought on through Freitag's government. The Association would be watching the phone lines, just as they had been. Many of the Kingsmen clerics, Arden Ditmer included, had all too enthusiastically used their ecumenical influence to promote Freitag and sing the praises of their great new leader. But Francis had something different in mind when it came to his international contacts, one of whom had picked a fine time for a visit.

Phillip Lemming was a man from Unum. He was one of Francis's classmates there, and he was, also, a good friend. So, while Francis had been delighted by his plans for a visit and did his best to show him around the pleasant scenes of the capital, he also remained keenly aware that there were other matters of much greater importance than sightseeing.

His parents had gone to stay with Sophie and Gerard in case of riots. The government had declared war on Altruites, after all, and there was some fear that things may get out of hand. If the Lötz's house was attacked, at least their parents would be there to help.

Francis hung his head a moment and stared quite contemplatively at nothing. The year had been hard for him, and not just for him but for all of them. His thoughts could scarcely stray from Sophie and Gerard and their young ones now, and he wondered how they would ever get out from under the control of this terror and hatred which had gained such a complete hold on their beloved nation. These were by no means the carefree days of the past which he had loved.

He turned his eyes back to the comely man with the handsome face who stood self-assuredly behind him and smiled. He always was like that, and there were few that Francis would trust to smuggle information back across the country's borders than he would Phillip Lemming.

"Have a seat, Phil!" Francis invited, throwing off any hint of concern with a broad grin as he turned; "We have some discussing to do."

His friend took the chair set out in the middle of the room which Francis had carefully placed. It wasn't far from the desk, and he thought that it was far enough from the door that they needn't worry themselves too much about the possibility of spying or being overheard by some disapproving help. After all, treason was a private business and not to be had in the company of others.

"Well, Francis, tell me what it is that's really going on here," the young man requested, speaking in the accent with which Francis had become so familiar in his college days; "Why these boycotts?"

"The Altruic conspiracy," Francis replied, chuckling as he made his way around to the front side of his father's desk and leaned back against it, crossing his arms.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Phil replied rapidly, and he seemed so startled by the statement that Francis thought he might jump clear from his chair.

"It's all in self-defense," Richmond stated coldly as he continued the thought and took a seat next to their guest.

"You're joking," Phil said, pleading with his dark brown eyes to Richmond.

"No, I'm afraid not, Phil," Francis said, raising an eyebrow. He could tell that the man was becoming desperate for some promise of sanity from his friends, but Francis wasn't quite ready to surrender his charade and give it to him. "That's the truth of the matter here, Phil," Francis went on; "It's all very logical."

Phil looked back and forth between them frantically while Richmond nodded with all due solemnity.

"How could we have lost the war?" Francis continued, finding it difficult to refrain from cracking a joking smile. "It must have been the Altruites, and we have proof of this. You see, they have an unfair hold of the market. They control the banks, the businesses, the money, everything that has been so... out of control. It's not under our control at all, because all of it is under theirs. They have launched an attack on our country, our people, and that, Phil, is the problem — the great Altruic conspiracy."

Richmond nodded in falsified agreement. "But today, all of that will change, Phil, because we are fighting back! That's why the boycott. We're going to hit them where it hurts — their pocketbooks."

Phil was sitting with his mouth open, unable to believe the insane rhetoric suddenly espoused by his friends. "You both have lost your minds!" he gaspingly remarked.

"No, Phil," Francis replied smiling. "We haven't, but the rest of the country has, which is the problem. Of course that's not true, but that's what the government says is, and so that's what we're supposed to tell you."

Phil fell forward in his chair, letting out a relieved sigh. "You had me going there, Francis," he admitted, touching a hand to his forehead.

It was then that the telephone rang, and they all looked at it with extreme skepticism, if not, perhaps, a hint of paranoia.

Ever since Freitag had been granted his emergency powers, the Good Fellows had been monitoring the phone lines, and things had only become more dangerous since the new laws were passed by the National Assembly. Now, neither citizen nor legislator had any rights which the Association could not easily strip away by order of their "great leader", who was quickly becoming more of a dictator than he was a democratically appointed chancellor. Francis could see little hope of an end to this by means of an election. There would be no peaceful exchange of power.

Again, the phone rang, and Francis looked at Richmond.

"I'll get it," his brother assured him, standing from his chair. "Hello," Richmond said, picking up the wired black hand piece and raising it curiously to his ear. "Who? ... She did what?" He chuckled. "Oh, I see!" Richmond had deteriorated into a nearly complete fit of laughter on the phone. "Yes. ... Yes, I understand. ... It's very serious, yes. ... Well, you know, you reach a certain age, and— ... Of course. ... Of course, yes. I know. ... I will. ... All right. ... You, too. ... Thank you. ... Goodbye."

Richmond turned around after hanging up the phone and laughed again while Francis and Phillip watched him with questioning eyes.

"Who was that?" Francis asked, cocking his head at him.

"The chief of police!" Richmond replied, laughing.

"My God! Is everything all right?" Phillip asked him, turned completely around in his chair.

Richmond nodded, and he waved a hand to calm them as he fought to recover his composition. "Quite," he said with a remarkable grin, but he checked the door for watchers before elaborating further. "It's our grandmother," he calmly informed them; "She went to get some strawberries from Schreiber's."

Francis smiled with amusement. He could already see where this was going. "Now, Phil," he said, "for reference, our grandmother is ninety-one and scarcely five-foot-two. Richmond, continue please."

"Good old Mama LaPorte!" Richmond mused, "Thanks to her, I'm never sure if we have a good name or a bad one. A republican and now this... She marched right through the police line, Francis! The officers were taken totally off guard. What could they do? Being defied by a delicate little old lady, and one so notedly elegant as grandma!" He shook his head, still in a state of thinly veiled glee. "One of the men did try to talk to her, and she told him very plainly, 'Young man, I have always shopped here, and I will continue to shop here.'"

Francis smiled, shaking his head with an amused laugh, "God, love that stubborn old woman!" He turned his attentions suddenly and almost violently back to his friend. "Now, Mr. Lemming, that's the truth, and for your task, you must take it with you — around the world, back to Unum! Let them know what's happening here!"

Phillip nodded, standing from his chair and offering a hand to Francis as assurance. "I will," he said, their eyes meeting in the words of a dearly held promise. "Francis, I'll tell them."

Francis looked at his friend and grasped his hand firmly with a smile. "Thank you," he told his schoolmate with a nod.