Francis LaPorte and the Association of Good Fellows

Estrangement

Saturday, 26 Nisan, 5693

The Honorable Gerard Lötz, professor of law at the University of Gütland, walked with his head hung as he weathered the rain which fell from the dark skies over the college town. His brimmed hat and overcoat were drenched by the time he entered through the bronze-handled doors of the university and touched his brown leather shoes to the polished tile floor of the main hall.

Water ran down from his hat as he removed it, making a puddle on the floor, and he tried not to stare at the men who the dean had assigned to the task of removing old paintings of respected Altruites who had taught or lectured there in the past. Their portraits had hung on the walls of the university for many years along with those of other presidents, faculty, and noted scholars throughout the history of school, but the Good Fellows had ushered in a new day, one in which Gerd and his kind had no place... even in history.

He and Sophie knew it was ambition which drove Dean Asper to approve such disgraceful acts as these, just as ambition had caused him to call on the night of his father's funeral. Asper had asked him then that he not attend a celebratory procession to be held at the university come Iyar in honor of the dedication of the new NAGF banner to which Gerd had rather flippantly responded that he had no intention of being there and no interest in the dedication of the NAGF banner. In fact, he had gone so far as to inform the man that he was more than happy not to go. He may have been a bit more forthright then than he would have been under more normal circumstances, but the fact of his father's funeral and the effects of Freitag's new laws debarring non-Indo-Yeropians from public service had pushed him far past his breaking point.

The laws which Freitag claimed were "for the restoration of the professional civil service" had done no more than authorize the removal of any and all "men of alien blood" from their service for the state and their offices. His own brother, Peter, who was also a judge, had directly suffered the effects of this new law when he was forcibly removed from his post, and Gerard himself now found his own job at the university was at risk on account of those very same laws.

Besides that, there was the public trend: no one wanted to be associated with an Altruite. He and Sophie had lost many friends and loved ones over recent times for the simple consideration of his heritage. It seemed as though the world had estranged itself from them. Indeed, it had gotten to the point that even their neighbors, old friends, and colleagues refused to acknowledge them on the street and would even go so far as to cross in order to avoid association with them. But nothing hurt quite like Francis's refusal to speak at his father's funeral.

If everyone else in the world was against him, Gerd had always believed that Francis would be right there, fighting the war from beside him. Francis was Sophie's twin, and he had welcomed her new lover in without withholding. In fact, he had made it clear to Gerd from the beginning that he had adopted him as a brother and that he was devoted to him as surely as he was devoted to Sophie, the woman with whom Francis had shared much of his life and with whom now Gerd intended to spend the rest of his own.

Gerd knew that Francis loved Sophie, and it was precisely because Francis loved Sophie that Gerd knew with absolute certainty just how much Francis loved him. That was what made Francis's reluctance to do the funeral so entirely incomprehensible for him. It simply wasn't right. It wasn't logical. It wasn't Francis.

So, Gerd said nothing to him about it the night he was there or the day he declined, nothing at all. Francis was content to attend the service, to offer his condolences, and to express his love in a way less great than speaking, and so... Gerd was determined to be satisfied to accept the love and sorrows of his brother-in-law however he would choose to offer them.

He walked down the ivory halls in silence, past the working men and fallen frames of worn out pictures and into the lesser corridors which led into the broad rooms where he lectured. It was darker there with fewer windows, which made such a difference even on an overcast day. Quickly, the cold stone and white tile began to disappear, lending the floor and walls instead to polished wood and warm lamps hanging in clouded glass cages from bronze chains which sparkled above him. There, at the end of the hall, was the place where he worked, the room in which he was scheduled to conduct a series of lectures.

However, as Gerd approached, he found two students guarding the door. The boys were dressed in the dull uniforms of Densik's Protection Squad, and they stood one on either side of the doorway, leaning with their arms crossed as they blocked the way with their jackboots, dissuading the others who sought to attend the day's classes.

"Let me in!" a young man said; "I have a class here soon."

The two men laughed at him.

"No class today!" one told him.

The boy hesitated.

"What, can't you hear?" the man's partner asked, annoyed. "There is no class today!"

"Look!" the other man said, brushing his black hair from his face, "Lötz must not lecture. He is an Altruite. The lectures are not taking place."

The boy hung his head and turned to walk obediently away. He walked up the corridor and right past his teacher without so much as a glance or "hello".

Gerard watched him as he left, defeated, and he sighed. How could this have happened? Humanity was eroding right before their very eyes, and who could stop it?

Gerd stepped up to the men who stood in the doorway against him. "Excuse me, please, gentlemen," he said, his stern eyes glancing between them.

They men looked one to the other.

"You deaf?" the younger man asked. "Like we told the last man, the lectures are cancelled."

"Even so, I need to get in," Gerd said, careful to keep his voice even.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"It's my class."

Again, the boys looked at each other, but this time was different. This time, they nodded and retracted their legs, affording him the space by which to get through.

"Thank you," he said.

However, one of the boys stretched out his leg to catch the foot of the unsuspecting Professor as he passed, and caused him to stumbled.

Gerard fell to the ground and hurried to collect his notes before rising again to his feet and brushing off his clothes.

The two men laughed, enjoying the sight of the disgruntled man of foreign blood.

He scolded himself internally that he should have been more careful. He should have expected something like this from them, but he had wrongly believed that the turning away of the students would have been enough for them.

He set his notes on the lectern, removing his coat which was heavy from rain. Only then did he lift his eyes to the blackboard behind him. On it was written a message: Lötz is an Altruite. He must not teach. All lectures are cancelled.