Lemme set the scene
 
Well, here we are again, on a still, dark, misty, February day.  Are we being or doing?
 
Damaged mong women know life the universe and everything is MEN’s BUSINESS, taught from their cradles by their filthy parents and teachers they’re GERLS.  GERLS aren’t really human, lots of things MEN do GERLS can’t or may not, and of course the boys taught the special  characteristics of the sub-species Woman.  No, no, of course you can’t be a poet, philosopher, physicist, pilot, postie, that’s MEN’S WORK. 
 
Jabber, jabber, equality, jabber, jabber, opportunity.  None of the pundits appears to think the damaging of children in their cradles matters.  This is of course at least in part because what they want is equality, opportunity and power for damaged adults.
 
Scenario, all totally contrived in order to annul me.
 
The ludicrous Trot criminal Jackson throws a hissy fit over being called illiterate and the fat old brute Boden muscles in, rubbish, ai will not have mai nurses upset, and all the lords of misrule, the masters of corruption and desecration take it up, it’s supposed to be some major issue over which all subsequently hum and haw for 22 years, whether I, a modern languages graduate of the University of London, a writer, the daughter of an author (nine published novels), can possibly have a right to, grounds for, calling the creature illiterate, during which of course as was wished for I am injured, crippled and all but destroyed.
 
Variation on a theme:
 
The creature, the product of anti-education, is convinced of its own perfection.  It cannot be illiterate because it is without flaw, therefore any criticism of it must ‘really’ be because it’s gay and Ardeshna takes up the hue and cry.  That what I write does more for gay rights than what they have done in the whole of their lives is immaterial in a world wholly untroubled by fact.
 
The orc-woman Plucinski led the hue and cry backed by a rich daddy.
 
Some ludicrous creatures throws itself around at mention of goddesses and screams I’m a witch and that is supposed to be a deeply problematic event, whether one may be familiar with the Greek pantheon, particularly on first name terms.  We have to hum and haw for 22 years over whether a classical education is ‘acceptable’, ‘permissible’, can some ridiculous animal be persuaded to accept the presence of Artemis and Athena in our diverse and plural society.
 
At which point the priest slime step in whining that it cannot be permitted to offend the deeply held and sincere beliefs of others.  We are in the free world in the C21st, the foundations of which are Athens and Nazareth, love and mind,, the free world founded on the overthrow of religious authority, the demand the governing be accountable to the governed and rejection of arbitrary and unaccountable power, but they think they’ve found a way round that, that there is no love in offending those precious deeply held and sincere beliefs.
 
What love is there in insisting a person’s ignorance, irrationality, inadequacy, insanity, be cherished, that the person be at all cost kept ignorant, irrational, inadequate, insane?  In short preserved as a weapon on the war on freedom and democracy.  And this is regarding people as both animals and property: pets.  If you love someone you want him or her to be the unique individual he or she has the potential to be, not an image of yourself, a creature of your devising. 
It is of course a perfect example of ‘why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye but beholdest thou not the beam that is in thine own eye’.
 
Liberty is a function of love.  Control is a function of self-will.  If you love someone you do not wish to force your dirty animal self on him or her.  No-one may force himself or herself on another other than to restrain the other from forcing himself or herself on another. 
 
I, like many, many others who have offended the psychos by something written or stated in public, have not in any way forced it on them.  What we have not done is stop them in the street and inflict our words on their faces.  Our actual crime is not to think what they believe more important and valuable than what we believe, not to think they are more important and valuable than we.  The hierarchical primate brain fundamentally does not understand equality, considers that which they do not dominate as controlling them.
 
The reality of this unbelieving and diverse society, its naturists, pagans, humanists, atheists, all-sorts, writers, classicists, physicists, does not force itself on the nutters, but merely demands equality of rights the right to think and say what one chooses.  Necessarily those with opposing views each find the views of the other crap and probably shit.  Love demands acceptance of shit-faced drivellers, of their right to believe shit-faced drivel.  It does not demand that others submit to them, are not permitted to reject shit-faced drivel.  Most of us manage this.
 
Of course they’re all on that particular band-wagon, full of fake concern.  Aren’t our doctors and nurses such lovely people?   See how they coo and cluck over the distressed.  Whether the distressed have either rational or moral justification for their distress we blithely ignore.  The little people have to be protected, see how evil is this freedom that it so distresses them.  Anyone sane can be bumped off, but nutters have to be protected, creatures wholly divorced from reality, are not to be introduced to it, there can be no question of insisting they accept it.
 
The normality of this unbelieving and diverse society, its naturists, pagans, humanists, atheists, all-sorts, writers, classicists, physicists, does not force itself on the nutters, but merely demands equality of rights the right to think and say what one chooses.  What these creatures are divorced from is normality, the many many views and activities which are a normal part of the warp and weft of the fabric of the nation.  Go to the British Museum some time, fuck-faced nutters.
 
And they refused to learn.
 
And they went on inflicting their filthy sordid shit-filled maggot animal corpse selves on me.
 
All this society demands rock-bottom is you keep your filthy dirty ape-claws out of others.

But of course the fake fascist Left has changed all that, insisting filthy dirty apes have a right to sink their claws into others, as it has encouraged the working-classes to be feral, refusing to demand minimum standards of behaviour from them, teaching them their own perfection and their right to shut up anyone who dares doubt that perfection.
 
Are there pagans reading this? Classicists?  Physicists?  The literate?  Good, you may need to get ready to fight guys, and I mean literally, because these obscene cunt-faced throwbacks are not going to shut the fuck up now they have triumphed, succeeded in destroying an educated Englishwoman with government and security services crawling at their feet, not dreaming of interfering.  It is dangerous to have had a classical education, academic or general.  Physicists are probably protected by the nature of the subject meaning that they are banded together in university departments or other institutions, but there are many disparate classics graduates, like me outliers and so vulnerable, needing to be careful, keep their fucking marfs shut about any enthusiasm for the classical pantheon they may feel, in case some freak sicko nutter monkey subhuman overhears them.
 
All their pathetic sick baboon vocabulary deployed of course: self-willed, impudent, arrogant, insolent, rebellious, blasphemous. All of which mean I have a mind of my own and know how to use it, I have an equal right to speak, I do not crawl at their feet. 

Theirs is the self-will, the gross inflicting of their selves on me, but the corrupt lap it all up. 
 
Not interested in your filthy fascist primitive monkey-puke, you disgusting senile pervert freaks, filthy sickening savage aren’t you Blair, a dirty ape, a primitive monkey jabbering sickening ape.

We don’t need you.  We don’t want to.  And we aren’t going to have you.  Having succeeded in crippling and destroying a medically vulnerable single woman with no money doesn’t mean you’ve conquered England.
 
Why don’t you filthy animals do what Jesus told you to do, tell people to love one another, do your fucking job, not look for ways to inflict your dirty ape selves on us, drivel on about sex.  After all Love with a capital L, love in Jesus’ sense, is as essential in personal relationships as romantic love.  You may not love a person in the together for ever sense. That’s OK, but if you do not love him or her in the love your neighbour as yourself sense, seeing him or her as a person, an equal, an individual, then your sexual connection is going to be pretty sad, if not evil.
 
As indeed I have commented, certainly Jesus thought some people would go to hell, but he didn’t think it was his business to hurry them along there.  Be ye wise as serpents and harmless as doves.
 
Once, the Buddha and his disciple Ananda visited a monastery where a monk was suffering from a contagious disease. The poor man lay in a mess with no one looking after him. The Buddha himself washed the sick monk and placed him on a new bed. Afterwards, he admonished the other monks: "Monks, you have neither mother nor father to look after you. If you do not look after each other, who will look after you? Whoever serves the sick and suffering, serves me." 
https://www.unhcr.org/50be10cb9.pdf
 
I think basically, little religious people, we love you when you do stuff like this, as of course did Jesus.  And many of you do, quietly, in forgotten corners of society, of the world, people no-one will ever hear of, but those who represent organized religion are a pain in the arse and we don’t love you at all, dictatorial, sanctimonious, drivelling.  I donate to the Salvation Army because they’re genuine.

Thou didst not come down from the Cross when they shouted to Thee, mocking and reviling Thee, "Come down from the cross and we will believe that Thou art He." Thou didst not come down, for again Thou wouldst not enslave man by a miracle, and didst crave faith given freely, not based on miracle. Thou didst crave for free love and not the base raptures of the slave before the might that has overawed him for ever...I too prized the freedom with which Thou hast blessed men, and I too was striving to stand among Thy elect, among the strong and powerful, thirsting "to make up the number." But I awakened and would not serve madness. I turned back and joined the ranks of those who have corrected Thy work. I left the proud and went back to the humble, for the happiness of the humble. What I say to Thee will come to pass, and our dominion will be built up. I repeat, to-morrow Thou shalt see that obedient flock who at a sign from me will hasten to heap up the hot cinders about the pile on which I shall burn Thee for coming to hinder us. For if anyone has ever deserved our fires, it is Thou. To-morrow I shall burn Thee. Dixi.'"
Dostoevsky: The Grand Inquisitor

Truth nailed upon the cross compels nobody, oppresses no one; it must be accepted and confessed freely; its appeal is addressed to free spirits...A divine Truth panoplied in power, triumphant over the world and conquering souls, would not be consonant with the freedom of man's spirit, and in the mystery of Golgotha is the mystery of liberty….Every time in history that man has tried to turn crucified Truth into coercive truth he has betrayed the fundamental principle of Christ.
Nicholas Berdyaev

By the way to Christian clergy who point out they’re supposed to welcome the stranger, I would point out that there is a difference between welcoming someone into your home and rebuilding it to suit his taste.  I have lived in The Netherlands.  I was very welcome, others less so; this was nearly 50 years ago and memories of being left to eat tulip-bulbs in 1945, the retreating Germans having taken all the food, not to mention events before that.  But the idea that my parents and other ex-pats banded together to make demands on the Dutch Government is hilarious. 

“I’m on the attack. We have to stand up to them [non-believers]. There is something not totally human if you leave out transcendent [God] and you [atheists] are not fully human. They have an impoverished understanding to what it is to be human. We are all made by God.”

Murphy-O'Connor dribbling recently on Radio 4.

But, Cardinal, denying the hearts and minds of individual humans, demanding they be obedient, less than fully human, is what you chaps are so good at. Your own Catechism propagates this Stepford Wives view of humanity:

Wounds to unity
817 In fact, "in this one and only Church of God from its very beginnings there arose certain rifts, which the Apostle strongly censures as damnable. But in subsequent centuries much more serious dissensions appeared and large communities became separated from full communion with the Catholic Church - for which, often enough, men of both sides were to blame."269 The ruptures that wound the unity of Christ's Body - here we must distinguish heresy, apostasy, and schism270 - do not occur without human sin:
Where there are sins, there are also divisions, schisms, heresies, and disputes. Where there is virtue, however, there also are harmony and unity, from which arise the one heart and one soul of all believers.271

Catechism of the Roman Catholic Church
From the inauguration of Cardinal Nichols:
At the installation of the Most Rev Vincent Nichols at Westminster Cathedral, his predecessor, Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor, described a lack of faith as “the greatest of evils” and blamed atheism for war and destruction, implying that it was a greater evil even than sin itself.....
 
In his homily he said: “Faith in God is not, as some would portray it today, a narrowing of the human mind or spirit. It is precisely the opposite. “Faith in God is the gift that takes us beyond our limited self, with all its incessant demands . . . Some today propose that faith and reason are crudely opposed, with the fervour of faith replacing good reason. This reduction of both faith and reason inhibits not only our search for truth but also the possibility of real dialogue.”
Cardinal Murphy-O’Connor went farther. Referring to the battles that will be won and lost in the effort to sustain the Christian presence in secular society, he said: “What is most crucial is the prayer that we express every day in the Our Father, when we say ‘deliver us from evil’. The evil we ask to be delivered from is not essentially the evil of sin, though that is clear, but in the mind of Jesus it is more importantly a loss of faith. For Jesus, the inability to believe in God and to live by faith is the greatest of evils.
“You see the things that result from this are an affront to human dignity, destruction of trust between peoples, the rule of egoism and the loss of peace. One can never have true justice, true peace, if God becomes meaningless to people.”
From The Times, 22nd May 2009, now behind a paywall
 
To the harmless civilized atheist of course belief in God may seem the principle and explanation of all moral deviations; to many, whether Christian or not, it would seem that on the contrary faith may underpin the clamourings of the limited self, claiming the forcing of its incontinent urges on others has divine sanction; it is love that takes us beyond them. 
 
A modest Christian education recalls 1 Corinthians:
 
1 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. 2 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. 3And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
 
13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
 
I seem to have forgotten the bit where Jesus was telling the NSS about the evil of atheism.  I’m really not at all sure that the idea that people could not believe in God ever occurred to him.  Stuff such as giving no thought to the morrow is really very vague in this context, a sort of trust in life, in something which naturally he called God.
 
Let us say these peeps do not find the universities exciting places full of people with views of their own eager to test them out on their peers, rip opposing arguments to pieces. 
The criminally insane who break every law on the statute book are not of course sound on the question of motes and beams, all the more gloriously absurd if they are Catholics who must have had a Christian education.
 
Jesus and Buddha wouldn’t have a problem with Sarat and Ritawa.  But the holy catlick the cock of the fascist pervert Pope church, they have a problem and so I’m scheduled to die
 
As to to whom I consider myself accountable, I’d accept condemnation for my filthy temper from Jesus or Buddha, never from you dirty thugs, you wordless mindless butchers and murderers, you filthy ape-creatures, animals, the whole lot of you , dirty freak animals, sick monkey fascist savage freak animals who believe in Authority, subhumans who grovel, who think freaks may not be questioned, challenged.
 
I should imagine Jesus is pretty familiar with the Irish temper.
 
One more time:
 
On ‘Census Sunday’ in May 2005 6.3% of Britons attended a Christian church. The New Labour government hyped endlessly the 2001 Census finding that 71% of us identify ourselves as Christians. Whatever the respondents meant, clearly they did not mean formal observance.
 
By 2011, only 59% of us identified ourselves as Christian, not improbably due to a surfeit of dinosaurs.


A past golden age in which the whole of England was both devout and observant is itself a myth:
The Religious Census of 1851 demonstrated what Christians had long feared, that a large proportion of the population of England were neither Church people nor of any other religion. Although the exact figures must be treated with great caution, it seems clear that at least one-half of the people who might have been expected to go to church or chapel in 1851 did not do so. Most of the non-attenders came from the working classes...'the population having been till recently all but destitute of church ordinances, has relapsed into a state of semi-heathenism', wrote a vicar in a new parish near Oldham.
....
Queen Victoria...cared little for 'extreme views' in religion, and in teaching her children...chose to dwell not on 'the supernatural features of the Christian religion, but rather upon the pure and comprehensive morality which it teaches us as its essential and indestructible element;
Dickens's morality owed nothing to Evangelicalism or Tractarianism. Much religion, he suggested, was a 'vent for bad humours and arrogance' and there was no authority for the Murdstones in the New Testament; David Copperfield's opinion that 'we can all do some good if we will' was far more appealing. Dickens's obituary notes in Fraser's Magazine (July 1870) rightly seized on the point that 'he spent no thought on religious doctrines or religious reforms but regarded the Sermon on the Mount as good teaching, had a regard for the village church and churchyard, and quarrelled with nothing but intolerance'
Asa Briggs: The Age of Improvement
 
The original report of the 1851 Census reads as follows:
The most important fact which this investigation as to attendance brings Most important before us is, unquestionably, the alarming number of the non-attendants. Even fnquirj as to in the least unfavorable aspect of the figures just presented, and assuming (as attendance, no doubt is right) that the 5,288,294 absent every Sunday are not always the same individuals, it must be apparent that a sadly formidable portion of the English people are habitual neglecters of the public ordinances of religion. Nor is it difficult to indicate to what particular class of the community this portion in the main belongs. The middle classes have augmented rather than diminished that devotional sentiment and strictness of attention to religious services by which, for several centuries, they have so eminently been distinguished. With the upper classes, too, the subject of religion has obtained of late a marked degree of notice, and a regular church-attendance is now ranked amongst the recognized proprieties of life. It is to satisfy the wants of these two classes that the num ber of religious structures has of late years so increased. But while the labouring myriads of our country have been multiplying with our multiplied material prosperity, it cannot, it is feared, be stated that a corresponding increase has occurred in the attendance of this class in our religious edifices. More espe- cially in cities and large towns it is observable how absolutely insignificant a portion of the congregations is composed of artizans. They fill, perhaps, in youth, our National, British, and Sunday Schools, and there receive the elements of a religious education ; but, no sooner do they mingle in the active world of labour than, subjected to the constant action of opposing influences, they soon become as utter strangers to religious ordinances as the people of a heathen country. From whatever cause, in them or in the manner of their treatment by religious bodies, it is sadly certain that this vast, intelligent, and growingly important section of our countrymen is thoroughly estranged from our religious institutions in their present aspect. Probably, indeed, the pre valence of infidelity has been exaggerated, if the word be taken in its popular meaning, as implying some degree of intellectual effort and decision ; but, no doubt, a great extent of negative, inert indifference prevails, the practical effects of which are much the same. There is a sect, originated recently, adherents to a system called " Secularism " ; the principal tenet being that, as the fact of a future life is (in their view) at all events susceptible of some degree of doubt, while the fact and the necessities of a present life are matters of direct sensation, it is therefore prudent to attend exclusively to the concerns of that existence which is certain and immediate — not wasting energies required for present duties by a preparation for remote, and merely possible, contingencies. This is the creed which probably with most exactness indicates the faith which, virtually though not professedly, is entertained by the masses of our working population ; by the skilled and unskilled labourer alike — by hosts of minor shopkeepers and Sunday traders — and by miserable denizens of courts and crowded alleys. They are unconscious Secularists — engrossed by the demands, the trials, or the plea sures of the passing hour, and ignorant or careless of a future. These are never or but seldom seen in our religious congregations ; and the melancholy fact is thus impressed upon our notice that the classes Which are most in need of the restraints and consolations of religion are the classes which are most without them.
Census of Great Britain, 1851
 
If this is what New Labour hoped to rectify, they were about 150 years too late.

Tom Paine in The Age of Reason (1794) described Jesus as ‘a virtuous and amiable man’ who preached ‘most excellent morality…It is upon this plain narrative of facts…that the Christian mythologists, calling themselves the Christian church, have erected their fable, which for absurdity and extravagance is not to be exceeded by anything that is to be found in the mythology of the ancients.’

Many people of all faiths and none have engaged with the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. In the words of Jesus Christ Superstar, ’he’s a man, he’s just a man’, and engagement with him does not mean that we have the slightest interest in the notion that God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son to it.

Paine also wrote: 'My own mind is my own church.'

I believe in one God, and no more; and I hope for happiness beyond this life.

I believe in the equality of man; and I believe that religious duties consist in doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavoring to make our fellow-creatures happy.

But, lest it should be supposed that I believe in many other things in addition to these, I shall, in the progress of this work, declare the things I do not believe, and my reasons for not believing them.

I do not believe in the creed professed by the Jewish church, by the Roman church, by the Greek church, by the Turkish church, by the Protestant church, nor by any church that I know of. My own mind is my own church.

British citizens have gone in the direction of Tom Paine. British politicians are headed off in the opposite direction, courting figures from religious establishments who by definition adhere to a dead orthodoxy, about which no-one besides fellow-dinosaurs gives a damn.
 
Do these filthy damaged perversions of humanity understand the simplest fucking words of English? The fucking catholic Church was thrown out of England finally in 1688.  It has no political authority in England, do you understand, you filthy animals.
 
One more time, what the hell, why not.
 
A SHORT HISTORY LESSON
 
Magna Carta: 1215

The Pope denounced Magna Carta as the work of the  devil, you know. Others think it a cornerstone of Anglo-American  democracy. Britannia  ecclesiam romanam non amat neque amabat.

Welcome,  therefore to England, land of Henry VIII, Elizabeth I, Charles I,  Cromwell,  William of Orange, the Glorious Revolution, Paine, Darwin, Marx. Of course in  turdville they know no  history. Faith schools not all they're cracked up to be then?

1534: Act  of Supremacy established the Church of England, of which the monarch is the head.

Once upon a time there was  a king called Charles. He had a Catholic wife,  upheld the rejected concept of  the divine right of kings and cosied up  to Rome. His head ended up separated  from his body, rolling gently away  from him down Whitehall.

English Civil War 1642-1651

30 January 1649 Execution of Charles I

Shortly  after, there was another king called James and his reign ended with the Glorious Revolution and the installation of the resolutely Protestant  William of Orange  and the law-makers rather thought they'd settled  things once and for all.

1688 Glorious Revolution and establishment of Protestant  succession
 
It can be argued that James's  overthrow began modern English parliamentary democracy: never since has  the monarch held  absolute power, and the Bill of Rights has become one  of the most important documents in the political history of Britain. The deposition of the Roman  Catholic James II ended any chance of  Catholicism becoming re-established in  England, and led to limited  toleration for nonconformist Protestants — it would be some time before  they had full political rights. For Catholics, however, it  was  disastrous both socially and politically. Catholics were denied the  right  to vote and sit in the Westminster Parliament for over 100 years  afterwards. They were also denied commissions in the army and the  monarch was forbidden to  be Catholic or marry a Catholic, thus ensuring a Protestant  succession. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glorious_Revolution

 And I do declare that no foreign  prince, person, prelate, state or potentate hath or ought to have any  jurisdiction,
power, superiority, pre-eminence or authority,  ecclesiastical or spiritual,  within this realm. 

And whereas it hath been found by  experience  that it is inconsistent with the safety and welfare of this  Protestant kingdom  to be governed by a popish prince, or by any king or  queen marrying a papist, the said Lords Spiritual and Temporal and  Commons do further pray that it may  be enacted, that all and every  person and persons that is, are or shall be  reconciled to or shall hold  communion with the see or Church of Rome, or shall profess the popish  religion, or shall marry a papist, shall be excluded and be  for ever  incapable to inherit, possess or enjoy the crown and government of  this  realm and Ireland and the dominions thereunto belonging or any part of   the same, or to have, use or exercise any regal power, authority or   jurisdiction within the same; 
English Bill of Rights, 1689

The office of Prime Minister had yet to be created.  Academic lawyers could argue for years about whether it was within the  spirit of the law  that it is inconsistent with the safety and welfare of this Protestant kingdom  to have the Prime Minister married to a  Catholic. 

Indeed they were bloody lawyers.  They knew what they were messing with. 

And then roughly 100 years later there was a little  upset in France and another king found his head rolling gently away from his body and  lots of blood coming from his neck and there was the  Declaration of the Rights of Man and the Civil Constitution of the  Clergy and they just don't seem to  learn, cos they got Troof.

French Revolution  1789-1799

12 July 1790 Civil Constitution of the Clergy making all Roman Catholic priests subordinate to the French government
21 January 1793  Execution of Louis XVI
17 November 1793 celebration of the goddess 'Reason' in Notre-Dame de Paris

 4 July 1776 Declaration of Independence of these United States of America
 
The First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America was adopted in December 1791. 

Congress shall make no law respecting  an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof;  or
abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a  redress of  grievances.
 
Probably the Vatican didn't even notice, being somewhat more locally engaged. Others, however, did and do.
 
They didn't surrender to the voice of sweet reason. They were forced to surrender and indeed fought a valiant rearguard action.

Wherefore, civil society must acknowledge God as its Founder and Parent, and must obey and reverence His power and authority. justice  therefore forbids, and reason itself forbids, the State to be godless; or to adopt a line of action which would end in godlessness--namely, to treat the  various religions (as they call them) alike, and to bestow upon them
promiscuously equal rights and privileges. Since, then, the profession of one  religion is necessary in the State, that religion must be professed which alone  is true, and which can be recognized without difficulty, especially in Catholic
States, because the marks of truth are, as it were, engraven upon it. This  religion, therefore, the rulers of the State must preserve and protect, if they  would provide--as they should do--with prudence and usefulness for the good of
the community. For public authority exists for the welfare of those whom it governs; and, although its proximate end is to lead men to the prosperity found  in this life, yet, in so doing, it ought not to diminish, but rather to increase, man's capability of attaining to the supreme good in which his  everlasting happiness consists: which never can be attained if religion be  disregarded.

22. All this, however, We have explained more fully elsewhere. We now only wish to add the remark that liberty of so false a nature is greatly hurtful to the true liberty of both rulers and their subjects. Religion, of its essence, is wonderfully helpful to the State. For, since it derives the prime origin of all  power directly from God Himself, with grave authority it charges rulers to be  mindful of their duty, to govern without injustice or severity, to rule their
people kindly and with almost paternal charity; it admonishes subjects to be  obedient to lawful authority, as to the ministers of God; and it binds them to  their rulers, not merely by obedience, but by reverence and affection,
forbidding all seditions and venturesome enterprises calculated to disturb  public order and tranquillity, and cause greater restrictions to be put upon the  liberty of the people. We need not mention how greatly religion conduces to pure  morals, and pure morals to liberty. Reason shows, and history confirms the fact, that the higher the morality of States, the greater are the liberty and wealth  and power which they enjoy.

 23. We must now consider briefly liberty of speech, and liberty of the press. It is hardly necessary to say that there can be no such right as this, if it be  not used in moderation, and if it pass beyond the bounds and end of all true  liberty. For right is a moral power which--as We have before said and must again  and again repeat--it is absurd to suppose that nature has accorded indifferently  to truth and falsehood, to justice and injustice. Men have a right freely and prudently to propagate throughout the State what things soever are true and honorable, so that as many as possible may possess them; but Iying opinions,  than which no mental plague is greater, and vices which corrupt the heart and  moral life should be diligently repressed by public authority, lest they insidiously work the ruin of the State. The excesses of an unbridled intellect,  which unfailingly end in the oppression of the untutored multitude, are no less
rightly controlled by the authority of the law than are the injuries inflicted by violence upon the weak. And this all the more surely, because by far the  greater part of the community is either absolutely unable, or able only with  great difficulty, to escape from illusions and deceitful subtleties, especially  such as flatter the passions. If unbridled license of speech and of writing be  granted to all, nothing will remain sacred and inviolate; even the highest and  truest mandates of natures, justly held to be the common and noblest heritage of  the human race, will not be spared. Thus, truth being gradually obscured by  darkness, pernicious and manifold error, as too often happens, will easily prevail. Thus, too, license will gain what liberty loses; for liberty will ever be more free and secure in proportion as license is kept in fuller restraint. In  regard, however, to all matter of opinion which God leaves to man's free  discussion, full liberty of thought and of speech is naturally within the right  of everyone; for such liberty never leads men to suppress the truth, but often  to discover it and make it known.

 Libertas, Leo XIII, 1888

For you well know, venerable brethren, that at this time men are found not a few who, applying to civil society the impious and absurd  principle of "naturalism," as they call it, dare to teach that "the best  constitution of public society and (also) civil progress altogether require that  human society be conducted and governed without regard being had to religion any  more than if it did not exist; or, at least, without any distinction being made  between the true religion and false ones." And, against the doctrine of  Scripture, of the Church, and of the Holy Fathers, they do not hesitate to
assert that "that is the best condition of civil society, in which no duty is  recognized, as attached to the civil power, of restraining by enacted penalties,  offenders against the Catholic religion, except so far as public peace may require." From which totally false idea of social government they do not fear to  foster that erroneous opinion, most fatal in its effects on the Catholic Church and the salvation of souls, called by Our Predecessor, Gregory XVI, an "insanity,"2 viz., that "liberty of conscience and worship is each man's  personal right, which ought to be legally proclaimed and asserted in every  rightly constituted society; and that a right resides in the citizens to an  absolute liberty, which should be restrained by no authority whether  ecclesiastical or civil, whereby they may be able openly and publicly to  manifest and declare any of their ideas whatever, either by word of mouth, by  the press, or in any other way." But, while they rashly affirm this, they do not  think and consider that they are preaching "liberty of perdition;"3 and that "if  human arguments are always allowed free room for discussion, there will never be  wanting men who will dare to resist truth, and to trust in the flowing speech of  human wisdom; whereas we know, from the very teaching of our Lord Jesus Christ,  how carefully Christian faith and wisdom should avoid this most injurious babbling."4

Quanta Cura, Pius IX 1864

It is doubtful whether England would accept governance by the heavenly host but by an organization as utterly tainted as the  Vatican - you  cannot be serious. But of course there is always ignorance and ignorance is  enthusiastically cultivated by clerical and secular  anti-educators alike

The Reformation was a number of things. One of them  was people failing to make a connection between Jesus's teachings and  what is known  of his life and a mega-buck empire based in Rome. Since  neither the New  Testament nor the mega-buck empire has vanished, people  continue to fail to  make the connection, regardless of how many saintly  priests do good works in abject poverty.

How simple is it possible to make this? Jesus did not  like religious farts. A large number of people inside the Churches and  outside them,  follow Jesus because he did not like religious farts.  Attempting to foist religious farts on people on the grounds they  represent Jesus isn't going to  wash.

And how it's done, the conversion of a democracy to a   theocracy, is of course by seizing the citadels of bourgeois power,  politicans  as puppets.

It goes on and on, the filth, the attempted indoctrination that faith is intrinsically superior, when it is entirely evident that it isn't

 And in the very dead of night, long after even the  most  determined revellers are tucked up in their little beds, long after the foxes  have finished crashing around in the bins, when it's  absolutely quiet, if you put your ear to the ground you can hear a  rustling noise like dry paper. That's  money talking.
Nothing is more hated than intelligence, except intelligence in a female body.  And fact.  The simplest facts of history are to be suppressed.
TRIVIALIZING THE REFORMATION
 
P-R-O-T - yikes, they can't even read. The clergy do not have the same role as in the Catholic world and now they are less important than ever.
____________________________________________________________________________________
This is the Protestant world and has been for some time. That it does not occur to us we want or need Rome to interpret the Bible for us goes deeper than 'modernity', 'liberalism', Marx or the Enlightenment, itself the child of Luther, of people reading the Bible for themselves and deciding the Vatican talked nonsense and pernicious nonsense at that. : everything that has happened to religion and spirituality in the Protestant world is, no matter how utterly opposed to and divorced from his beliefs, the child of Luther not of Rome, just as the entire thrust of Neu Arbeit, hanging on the words of members of spiritual hierarchies and indifferent to what ordinary people think, and particularly the despised adherents of "pick 'n' mix" religion, is anti-Protestant.
This is overlooked, the 'schism' portrayed as trying to agree on the nature of the Host so they can all be one church again.
This site has gone on at inordinate length about the Enlightenment and Marxism but that has missed the point. The thrust of Blair's clerical fascism was actually pre-Reformation. The Vatican was supposed to matter to all of us, not just the members of a minority sect called British Catholics.
Protestants believe that through Christ they have been given direct access to God, just like a priest; thus the doctrine is called the priesthood of all believers. God is equally accessible to all the faithful, and every Christian has equal potential to minister for God. This doctrine stands in opposition to the concept of a spiritual aristocracy or hierarchy within Christianity. Priesthood of all believers
"The Magisterium of the Church
85 "The task of giving an authentic interpretation of the Word of God, whether in its written form or in the form of Tradition, has been entrusted to the living teaching office of the Church alone. Its authority in this matter is exercised in the name of Jesus Christ."47 This means that the task of interpretation has been entrusted to the bishops in communion with the successor of Peter, the Bishop of Rome.
86 "Yet this Magisterium is not superior to the Word of God, but is its servant. It teaches only what has been handed on to it. At the divine command and with the help of the Holy Spirit, it listens to this devotedly, guards it with dedication and expounds it faithfully. All that it proposes for belief as being divinely revealed is drawn from this single deposit of faith."48
87 Mindful of Christ's words to his apostles: "He who hears you, hears me",49 the faithful receive with docility the teachings and directives that their pastors give them in different forms.

 
The true root of the free world, Protestants thinking for themselves.  Someone tell that dirty chimp, those evil diseased smelly animals in Rome, who of course think exactly like fucking Muslims, who fundamentally see no wrong in Islam, other than theologically, who equally assume women are to be defined by men, decided for, that they are meddling in the formerly Protestant world, where they have no authority, where they are not wanted, and where no-one gives a fuck about them, and keep fucking out. 
 
If you tell me that there is a single person in the whole of the island of Ireland who does not know that England is Protestant, I piss with laughter.
 
Of course you understand, you just want to destroy England, destroy freedom, destroy democracy. 
You know that, don’t you Blair, don’t you Booth, don’t you Nicholls, and your bloody business is to make bloody sure Catholics know it too.
 
Can’t help wondering if you filth ever bothered to ask the Queen about your plan to turn England over to Rome, to destroy democracy and make England crawl to arbitrary unaccountable cockroach vermin power in Rome, the edicts of sick sexually perverted old men.  After all, she is the Head of the Church of England.  You dare put me, an Englishwoman, a British subject under the authority of Rome’s cowards, scum who crawl around whining and manipulating behind closed doors.  Have you asked her about that?
 
And who assisted in devising (demanded?)  the Religious Hatred Bill, the dirty fascist ape Sacranie and the dirty fascist ape Murphy O’Connor, both known agents of hostile fascist foreign powers and of course insolently oblivious to the fact that they represent minority religions. 
 
To which we can doubtless add unknown agents of hostile fascist foreign powers such as Beijing and the Kremlin, who of course also represent minority religions.
 
And now, if the Law Lords would like to explain to everyone why I should be compliant with, obedient to, that which causes me physical harm, that which causes harm to England, then at least we shall all know exactly how corrupt this country now is.
 
 
They obviously loathe all  my brilliant female characters and equally the men who regard women as human beings and have conversations with women, but I may suspect the more political among them hate this the most: a State funeral from which both they and their Great Head Monkey in the Sky are absent. 
 
Truly, it is possible to talk about First Things, Last Things and indeed the bit in the middle without you. 
 
Extract from The Anile Heir ©2006.
I, Ysabel Jehan Howard, hereby assert and give notice of my right under s.77 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this book.
 
Somewhere people were screaming and shouting but Sarat stood still as stone. 
So cold.  Hurts
Together they passed through the pain.
CLICK CLICK CLICK
I we grieve at parting.
NO and yes.  You cannot follow.
Varulin was by his side. 
“That’s it, lad.  You hold on to her….”  His voice trailed off.  Oh fuck, no!  “Get a fucking car here!”
The light was very strong now.
Leave? How can I leave you?
“You just hold her, sir,” said Varulin gently.  “That’s it.  No-one can hurt her now.”
I will follow.
NO and yes.
Baz zoomed up.
They cannot part us.
We travel now.
Everyone is screaming but Sarat stands still as stone.  Baz understood.
NO.
Sarat tried to throw Baz out of his their mind.
Baz forced them apart. 
CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK
“Fuck off!” said Baz.  “Just fuck bloody off!”
 “It’s like bloody rape!” shouted Varulin.
“Is she - ?”
“Dead,” said Baz.  “Got it?”
Sarat came to with Maya’s lifeless body in his arms in sudden silence.
He looked at Baz almost in puzzlement.
“She’s not here any more.”
CLICK CLICK CLICK
They stood waiting for transport to bulldoze its way through the wreckage.
CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK. CLICK
 
We interrupt this broadcast.
MAYA DEAD
MAYA ASSASSINATED
MAYA  MURDERED
SHE DIED IN HIS ARMS
 
Contingency Plan (M) not Contingency Plan (S).  Essa and Cho would stay out of Kadun. He’ll need help. What else are sisters for?
 
Essa tried to get Sarat on his mobile.  No reply.
“It has happened,” said Baya.  Toss a coin.  Pray.  The music will stop.  Which one will it be?
I have four children, she thought, I still have four children.  Why do I not cry for shame?
 
Essa got Baz.  Baz handed over the mobile.
“Sarat.”
“Oh dad.”
“Love,” said Essa, “love, love, love, love.”
“Love,” said Sarat.
“Oh my darling,” said Baya. “Love, love, love.”
 
Mel rode down the hill and into the Saa’nda Senta.
“It has happened,” he said.
Mel, we’re so sorry.  Mel, all our love.
 
Mitch  would have grown wings, but Karula said no.  We offer our love, we offer ourselves but we do not go to Azt, Mitch, because we are not family. Mitch rang and Sarat said please come.
 
Scenes of devastation in Azt!  Ten dead, including Her Imperial Majesty, Maya-ban-essa.  Forty, fifty, sixty wounded. 
 
Sarat stood up.
“You do not have to go back!” shouted Paw.
“What do you suggest?  I sit here and scream?”
CLICK, CLICK, CLICK. 
 
“I’m sorry, sir, you can’t go through there.”
“I am Maya’s father.”
“Sir!  I am so sorry, so sorry.  Sarat’s gone back to the – scene.”
Pietri closed his eyes.
“Where is Maya?”
Pietri sat talking quietly to his daughter.
 
Three beautiful young women ran up and threw themselves on Sarat.  Oh Sarat, my poor darling! Love, love, love, love, love!  He hugged them heedless of bemused spectators.
“My sisters,” said Sarat.
“Sarat, this is a terrible day for you, for all of us – “
“It was a pretty bad day for Maya.”
“Sure, sure, I did not mean – “
“Just shut it,” said Sarat.  “Just for once, shut it.”
“Vultures,” said Zik.
“Try feeding on us,” said Shavli.
“I don’t think we’ll ever forgive you today,” said Ven,  “How could you!”
“What d’ you think Pietri and Caluna felt like?” asked Zik.
“Maya’s mum and dad,” supplemented Ven.
Many people who have often thought that Sarat, his family and friends let the press off too easily too often have gained enormous satisfaction from this simple expression of family outrage…
 
We interrupt this broadcast.
His Imperial Majesty will speak from the scene of the blast.  .
Sarat-ban-essa-eban-Narulis, Master of Kadun.
 
I think you’d better come, sir.  Sarat’s going to speak.
Bal looked on in horror.
He is still….
Covered in her blood.
 
There is a time to mourn, a time to scream, a time to weep.  All these things I owe my darling Maya.  Most of all I owe the refusal of defeat.  They have changed nothing.  They have won nothing.   Death does not sit on the Anile throne!  To the offal responsible for today’s devastation, to the vermin in the City who back them, to the snivelling animals who cower before them, I say, you can create nothing, but only destroy.  Today you leave a trail of wrecked and broken lives.  That you call a victory.  Thus you show the world your impotence. You cannot win.  You will never win.  This I pledge to Kadun.  This I pledge to Maya.
 
Mitch caught at the airport by the meedjah raised his hand in salute.
“We do not do cowering.”
“You yourself have suffered terrible loss.  How is Sarat feeling?”
It’s like robots, thought Karula.  They are not bad people.  They have no self-awareness. 
 
Sarat arrived back and stared at the  flowers carpeting the people-space,   
“I thank you,” he said shakily.  “On Maya’s behalf, on my own.  Thank you.”
“Pietri,” said Faun.  He pointed to the bedroom.
Pietri looked up.
“Everyone needs to go home.”
Sarat blinked back tears.
“They’ve brought you flowers, my love.  A whole field of flowers.”
Pietri stood.
“We’ll leave you to sleep now.”
“I am so sorry,” said Sarat.  “I am so sorry.  I was with her.  I was going with her.   Baz forced us apart.”  Pietri opened his arms.  “She was hurting and I wanted to stop her hurting but we were already through the pain.  I just wanted to stop her hurting.   We didn’t see how we could part.”
“Oh my dear boy,” said Pietri. 
“Somewhere – somewhere else people were shouting and screaming.  It didn’t have anything to do with us.  I hurt Baz,” said Sarat with horror.  “Oh I don’t mean.  He was trying to separate us.”
Pietri went to the door and asked for strong coffee.
“The funeral,”  he said finally.
“The funeral,” said Sarat.
They talked for a long time.  After a while, Faun was summoned.
No, Sarat, said Faun, knowing it was useless.
I pledge victory, I pledge courage to  skulk in a covered car?
Sarat rang Marula and Saryulin .  Of course, they said.
You can’t be buried twice, thought Faun.  Perhaps all of it is impossible, a nightmare from which we wake when we are all dead.
Faun rang Cho.
“Or of course he simply doesn’t care.”
“I am aware of that interpretation,” said Cho.
“I’ve said my bit,” said Faun.
 
Pietri mailed Mel and told him the  unphotographed trauma of Maya’s final moments.
Mel thought of him and Cantilip and hundreds of meaningless words on the subject of death.
I think, he mailed back, not of course know, but think, it wasn’t exactly – when she finally ‘crossed over’ he’d have been left behind.  Was he going with her or keeping her here?
If they were communicating, he thought, she wasn’t ‘dead’, whatever that is.  There must be a state beyond biological – leave it, Mel, leave it.  Or you become obsessed by death.  But Papa, he won’t leave us alone. 
 
Baz looked up.
“Oh Baz.”
“Love, love, love,” said Baz.
“Love, love, love.”
“What does a man expect when he tries to come between a guy and his girl?”
“Was I keeping her here?”  
“Sarat…In that situation – not that I  know anything about ‘that situation’ – what  I think is – for a moment I couldn’t tell which was you and which was Maya.  I don’t think you can look at it like that.  You both wanted to go in both directions.”
“Yes,” said Sarat. “And no.  She – there’s a point,”  She wanted to go, thought Baz. It’s not how to put it.  You go back.  What do I know?  “When – will fades,” Sarat was saying. 
“You just are,” said Baz, “in a field of flowers.”
 
 The terror and the loss.  I’ll come back with Pietri, be in Zur in the morning.  Love, love, love, love, love.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, typed back Mel. 
 
Small, tubby and balding glared at the screen.
“We have VILE, we have PANTHER, we have the Hadin-Wadud. What does this mean?”
“Don’t follow you, sir.”
“Try harder.  How many more damn’ deaths?”
“Protection.  A line of steel.”
“You have entered a Cult-free Zone.  And the very considerable resources of our three great nations were used to ensure it stayed that way.  Meaning Kadun was a contaminant.”
“The border’s open now, sir.”
“Well done, that man.  Meaning we have a vested interest in decontamination.”
“You cannot say Vasucula sat on the fence!”
“I surely can.  I surely do.  We tighten up any on the money-men?”
“We are a capitalist economy.  There are no lengths to which we shall not go to foster global investment, maximum prosperity for all and the brutal murder of a beautiful young woman.”
“That’s what I just said.  Get the bastards.”
 
“The Anile Emperor does not plead,” said the Ciletij Finance Minister.
“In his state,” said Varchulan darling, “he doesn’t have to.”
 
Sarat spoke to Mitch and Karula.  Of course, said Mitch.  Karula hid her disarray.  Only in the safety of their bedroom did she say to her beloved: Mitch, I know this is trivial in the great scheme of things, but if I am not to make a total fool of myself and of Var-segan on what is probably the most solemn occasion of my entire life – you know I never got the hang of horses.
 
“Now we’re going to the House of Silence,” said Baz, “and we would really appreciate it if you didn’t come.”
“You here to make arrangements for the funeral, Sarat?”
“I despair,” said Mitch.  “I am not talking to human beings.  If I may quote Baz – “ Long pause.  Mitch gave his sweetest smile.  “Remove yourselves from Sarat’s path.”
“That’s it,” said Baz, oozing charm. “Go away.”
“The sensitivity of oysters,” said Mitch.
“Is that a compliment, Mitch?”
“Real fine rugs,” said Mitch.
Sarat made his way relatively unimpeded to the House of Silence.
“Bloody walking-streets,” muttered Varulin.
“If I bring the car round, we can get away after,” said Baz.
Sarat stood in front of the flame.  Where you are, there am I.  Where I go, you are with me.  We shall win, my sweet lady, my love.  They do not part us.
He lit a candle, then took out a pen and wrote on a card.
My darling Maya, I love you.  Sarat xxxxxxxx. 
“OK, let’s head for the hill.”
As they turned, they heard someone say, “Fetch a fortune at auction.”
Sarat span round.
“Who said that?”
If you remember, Mel once remarked that Sarat can emit the aura that causing him the slightest discontent will result in instant demise.
“I think you may have upset him,” drawled Mitch.
“You will not remove the card,” said Sarat.
Order? thought Varulin, that’s no order, that’s an irresistible physical force. 
“Is that clear?” asked Sarat.
Sure, Sarat, sure.  Just a joke, Sarat.  Honest, Sarat, it was a joke.  Mel’d break our necks!
“No, he wouldn’t,” said Sarat.  “I’d have got there first.”
“There sure is some fine carving here,” said Mitch.
They made it to the car and zoomed off up to the hill.
“Shit, man,” said the idiot.
“He’s bound to be a little tense.”
“Is that what you call it!  I just found out what it’s like to be on the wrong side of the Anile Emperor!”
“We’ll talk to the H-W,” said Mitch.
Sarat made his way to the Room
 “I have brought this devastation.”
“My darling,” said Saski, “no.”
They hugged..
At length Sarat sat.
What are the expressions, thought Venga.  You look like hell. You look like death warmed up. 
“This is what we’re going to do,” said Sarat.
The state occasion, thought Mel, the pound of screaming flesh.  Give them that.
“I can do that,” said Sarat.  “I can do that with my heart torn in two.  I cannot afterwards make polite conversation.  I cannot leave Kadun to indulge  my grief.  It’s desertion.”
Hass got up and put his arm around Sarat.
“I think the guy needs to talk.”
“I have a right to claim a greater grief?” asked Sarat.  “After all, I killed her.”
“Balls,” said Venga briskly.
“It is natural, darling,” said Saski, “that should be an emotion you experience, but really it is the most awful nonsense.”
Sarat shrugged: no Anile throne, no funeral.
“We have our own demons,” said Mel.  “We were told to run for cover and we ran.” Tar looked up sharply. “If I do not say that in front of Sarat, I do not say it.”
 
Seani looked at the candle and the message.
“He wouldn’t have done that if it’s Zur.”
“How can they bury her in Zur!  Bets are on Carlin.”
“Sorg all over again.”
“Won’t get near.”
“Poor bastards.”
“Plural?”
“Plural.  We watched them grow up!”
“If I just close my eyes, they’re in the Saa’nda Senta.”
“Beneath these cold heartless exteriors, we all feel that.”
“How do we convince the Aniles!”
 
It is well known Pietri has his differences with Sarat.  He must surely hold Sarat responsible for his daughter’s terrible death.
Zuri, used enough to all shades of broadcaster shooting mouth off in the Saa’nda Senta, turned on this one.
Shut it, arsehole!
Surely that is merely a truth too terrible to bear.  Does not Zur hold Sarat responsible for the death of its princess?
Ask him.  Come on, say, hi Pietri, everyone knows you blame Sarat.
Yeah, man!  You go to the hill and fucking ask him!
Do we sound as if we blame Sarat?
Maya was a person.  And a fucking brave one. 
Bloody Ciletij still trying it on!
 
The Representative of Harn at Azt presents his condolences to His Imperial Majesty. 
On behalf of the whole of Harn – Sarat’s face stopped him.  Sarat….I have to say these things.
Come back to me when I’ve got Searc.
You have proof?
Not yet.  Would you give a message to Bal?
Of course.
Tell him we’re turning the screws.
Oh dear.  Must I?
 
Aztians talking about the funeral, live on Channel One
“I’m sure it’ll all be perfect.  Can’t tell us, can they!”
Most people had quietly figured that the rate of attrition hadn’t been greater only because Sarat never ever issued a schedule.
“Thing we have to think about is what Maya would have wanted.”
“Everyone look after him, that’s what she’d’ve wanted.”
“Right!”
“Hope it’s not in Zur.”
“You gotta think of her mum and dad.”
“Maybe she’d have wanted to go home.”
“Support Sarat.  Whatever he wants, it’s all right by us.”
“Right!”
No nay-sayers? they asked in the studio.  Nobody asking to be lynched, no.
 
No, honey, said Mitch with the reserves of patience that made him such a good father.  Not like that. 
Varulin looking out of the window couldn’t quite keep his face straight. 
My lord of Var-segan is instructing my lady of Var-segan in the finer points of horsemanship. 
Ride?  They’re going to ride?
 
The Cabinet of the Republic of Harn choked.
After, counselled Bal, I shall talk to the young man after the funeral.
Shouldn’t the message be passed around?
An excellent notion, said Bal.
 
“The whole of the people-space,” said Shav.  “It has to become a meadow.”
“So much for designing for posterity.”
“Eternity,” said Shav.  “Different.”
“Sis,” said Sarat.
“Bro?”
“Shav – “
She put a finger to his lips. 
“My choice.”
“Or it is a fairground game,” continued Sarat remorseless.  “Knock down the five dollies, another five take their place, until none is left.”
“There are a lot of us, aren’t there,” said Shav.
“Don’t joke.”
“Then laugh,” said Shavli.  “People are saying – they’re edging round it, Sarat.  They love each other, don’t they.  That’s all that matters.”
“Kadun is shy,” said Sarat.  “We saw it when we cleaned out the House of Silence. There was a sort of hum of love, but no-one actually said anything.  Now I must say it.” 
“Darling, there is a time for all things.  You said it!   How many times since arriving in Azt have you used the word ‘Cult’ in public?”
 “Do you think I haven’t thought of that?”
“There were people dying of hunger.  You set out to change everything.  You have changed everything.”
“Oh yes,” said Sarat.
 
Bal pondered as he undressed.
Does this man like me?  If I were Sarat, I should hate me, but I do not – perhaps that is did not – think Sarat exactly hates anyone.  A question of the kind of guys they are.  The other matter!  Now I do not bow to the like or dislike of any man, be he prince or porter, but if I ask myself in all honesty if I do not value the good opinion of Sarat or Mel over that of Searc I have to answer myself that I should be a screaming lunatic if I did not.  Kids to feed, road-repairpersons to pay.  I really did not think they would fight dirty.  What in hell am I going to do?
Why did I not think they would fight dirty?
 
“There’s this crazy rumour going round, he’s going to ride behind her coffin.”
“Oh Sarat.  It’s too far.”
“Not from the House at Carlin.”
 
A trio of Zuri sat talking.
We could call it Maya’s song.
I think we ought to ask. 
OK, there’ll be some won’t like it.
If Pietri don’t like it, we ditch it, all right. Absolute last thing we want to do is upset Alzani-Meta.
Get our necks broken.
The story was all over Zur.
They climbed the hill.
We don’t want to intrude.  It’s about remembering Maya.
Pietri was found and faced three young men whose basic state appeared to be excruciating embarrassment. 
Support Sarat. We think it’s what Maya would have wanted.
We’ve written a song.
Well, not written exactly.
Look, if you don’t like it, it’s in the bin.
I thank you…May I see it?
We’ve got it typed out.
Finally the words were prised out of them.
Pietri stared at the page, not sure whether to laugh or cry.
I see, he said.  Maya would love it.  I thank you.  I do think you should mention it to Mel.
Thank you!  Thank you!
 
“Supposing you’re a soprano,” said Shavli. Sarat looked a bit surprised but did his best.  “You hit all the top notes.  That’s fine.  That’s cool.  Your voice dominates the stage.  But what you need to do is go higher, beyond the range of the human voice.”
“Now, Sarat, if you will just tell our viewers, and remember, there must be a hundred million tuned in worldwide, exactly what you think about death. Shall I tell them about the throne too?”
“Now you come to mention it…” said Shav. 
 
Kadun did not go pear-shaped, said Mel. The Harni pretended not to understand.  Bal said he had to protect his own in case Kadun went bottoms up.
We cannot consider Kadun stable until there is a democratically elected government in place.
Kadun cannot be stable until the Cult is annihilated.  The Cult cannot be annihilated until the City stops feeding it.
It’s natural you should be feeling a little over-wrought at this time, Mel.
Sohenoil, retorted Mel, is feeling very over-wrought indeed.  I am trying to help you guys.  I am trying to explain the bottom is about to fall out of your world.  Find a lifeboat!
You just want us to invest in AMI!  No-one can do anything, Mel.
Mel gave up.
Watch this space.
 
Her Imperial Majesty will be buried the day after tomorrow in the presence of her family and friends.  This will be followed by services simultaneously in Azt, Zur and Maona-pri to which the chief mourners will return.  His Imperial Majesty will speak the requiem.
Most breath-taking statement I’ve seen in my life, even from Sarat.  Where, Sarat, pretty please?
Ask The Girls.  Soft touch, easily swayed.
 
I need to know what time, said Bal. OK, that’s 8 in the morning with us.  People’ll be up all night watching the funeral.  Guess we just got a new public holiday. 
 
There will be services also in Gula-Toon, Wintawa and the City.
 
A smear campaign began in the City.  The Sisterhood announced a candlelit vigil the night of the funeral.  The idea quickly spread across the water. Maya’s death became a feminist issue. 
 
Shavli addressed the cameras.  .
“OK, people, you’re going to spend the night out and that is just incredibly sweet of you.  I think it’s beautiful, in fact.  If it’s actually going to be beautiful, we think you need a bit of help.  Loos, hot drinks, shelters for people who get chilled or get sick, first aid in case of accidents.  After all, this is the whole city we’re talking about.”
If it wasn’t before, it is now.
“Fortunately the family caterers are more than willing to provide anything you might need free of charge.  After all, she was their Maya.”
It took Kadun a moment to realize she meant AMI.
“Above all, of course, I want to thank you for your flowers, for your cards, for your messages, for your outpouring of  love which has lightened the load of these past few terrible days, for Sarat, for me, for all of us.  We know that Maya did not die in vain because Azt loves her, Kadun loves her. 
 
“I thank you.”
 
She blew Kadun a kiss. 
 
Kadun blushed furiously and looked in the mirror to check it had combed its hair.
 
Getting in some practice in case she has to do the job. Even vultures shut out some thoughts as unbearable and unprintable, at any rate 48 hours before the funeral. Everybody who thought thought it.  It is a measure of how far we have travelled that  Anile Empress in her own right…Voices trailed off. 
 
“We recorded  Just Some Girls Talking over Lunch,” said Jaizi.  “I really think you’d better see this.”
Yes, of course they killed her because she was Her Imperial Majesty, but why would that have mattered if she’d been some cipher?
It was the guys everyone focused on, right.  I mean, this is Kadun! 
We knew Karula had a track-record as a radical and Cantilip, well, Cantilip is Cantilip.  Mess with earthpower and you die!  The debt women in Kadun owe to Van-senok is just about immeasurable.  They never surrendered.  But we didn’t know anything about Maya.  Obviously we didn’t think Sarat’d be paired with some dumb-bun, but she didn’t seem political.
For that matter, we didn’t think Alzani-Meta produced dumb-buns, but they did seem rather political!   Maya-ban-essa, rest her soul, embodied just about everything every woman wants to be. [Laughter] OK, OK, including Sarat’s partner, or is that in bad taste!  She was just totally her own person.  She made her own decisions and she darned well died for them.  I mean, excuse me, Maya, would you like to be Anile Empress.  Thank you, no, Sarat, I have a  nice safe life here in Zur..  She risked everything, gave up everything.
She was so damn’ brave – do you remember the blast at the consecration.?
[Pause]
Well, they all are.
There is no question in my mind – of course they killed her to hurt Sarat but basically they killed her because of what she was, a tough, free lady, symbol of our aspirations, focus of our hopes.  Sarat must know that.  I mean, I don’t think anyone actually -  you kind of assumed he’d get support from Cho.  No, no!  Oh dear, I mean I’m sure Cho loves him to pieces. Sarat’s answer is Shavli, Zika and Ven and let me tell you we are rooting for those ladies!  Women will not be put down by the bastards, not ever again, and that is Maya’s legacy.
Mitch tried to read Sarat’s expression and failed.
“It’s a funeral,” said Zik, “not another round in the sex war.”
“You’re not coming from where they’re coming from,” said Karula.
“That’s rather obvious,” said Zika.
“It’s a candlelit vigil,” said Shavli.  “It’s not going to turn into a riot.”
“There is absolutely no-one in Azt who harbours or ever has harboured a single negative thought about Sarat or Maya.”
“That’s a different ball-park,” said Shav.
“How?” demanded Zika.
Sarat spoke at last.
“Let’s just say it’s a volatile situation.”
There were things Sarat thought about the Cult striking duringthe funeral shared with no-one but Cho and Faun.  Contingency Plan (F) was to be carried out to the letter, whether he remained alive or not. I can tell you now that they didn’t strike during the funeral and even that no-one expected that they would.  We didn’t rule out loose cannons. 
“It is not in us,” said Zika drily,  “to ask them to remember to be quiet and respectful in the presence of the Great Master.”
Mitch flexed his eyebrows.
“Here I go again,” decided Shavli
 
Shavli shook back her hair and settled into the settee to die for.
I’m not going to take up much of your time, but what I do have to say matters.  Hearken, therefore.
Maya in the short time she was here came to mean a very great deal to a very many people, especially women.  When we lose someone we love dearly, tempers run short. When that loss is as politically charged as is Maya’s death, there is the possibility tempers may be lost.  On the day of the funeral, two things will be paramount to me, and I want them to be paramount throughout Kadun.  One is Sarat’s well-being and the other is what Maya would have wanted.  We are all of course acutely aware that many political questions remain to be fully resolved.  They will be fully resolved.  That is Sarat’s pledge and the pledge of all of us, his family.  We are told that the whole of Kadun will be out on the streets to show its love – your love – for Maya.  That is as it should be, a day of love, a day of remembrance, a day of peace. That is what Maya would have wanted.  That is what Sarat wants.  Politics can wait until the day after. Thank you again.  Thank you for all your flowers.  Thank you for all your love.  
 
She blew Kadun another kiss.
 
That, folks, is the Anile heir.
Almost worth doing in Sarat – he clapped his hand over his mouth.  I didn’t think.
Serious offence, that, son.
We’re vultures.  We’re supposed to make tasteless jokes.
 
Eek, typed Mel.  What brought that on?
Sarat mailed him the transcript
!  I love it.
I shall love it in two days’ time. 
 
Her Imperial Majesty will be buried at the shrine attached to the Summer Palace.  Hey, but that’s private property!  Can’t no-one visit – During opening-hours, said Zulagan with bitter fury.  If you can’t reach her grave you can’t dig her up again, can you.
 
It’s like a pall has fallen on the whole of Azt as the sun sets and the vigil begins.  There must be the whole city out on the streets.  I do not think anything like this has been seen ever.  Here and there in the crowds are braziers to warm them and stalls dispensing hot drinks, but mostly there is just the flicker of candles on worn faces, the distant mournful hoot of ships on the river, and the sound of people crying.  
 
Duvi, Saryulin and Marula arrived at the Jumesit, sat with Sarat, Mitch, Karula and B and P watching the camera pan over Azt’s candles. 
This is Azt, thought Duvi, and so this is impossible.
“We should get a little sleep,” said Saryulin at last, really meaning Sarat should.
Baz went with them to find their rooms. 
Mitch suddenly remembered something, muttered excuse me, and sprinted after them.
He caught up with them, was suddenly at a loss for words.
“This place is a little weird,” he said lamely.  Baz grinned unhelpfully. He remembered.  “You have ghosts in Carlin.” Saryulin raised his eyebrows sky-high. “They say the walls of time are very thin here.  Just don’t be surprised at anything.” 
Marula shook with laughter.
“If we meet Narulis, I trust we shall know how to behave.”
“Sarat does,” said Baz.
“We could talk or read,” said Duvi after a moment.  “Darling, I am agog.”
“The stories concerning the Jumesit,” said Marula, “are extraordinary.”
“Sarat – and indeed Maya – did, do not find it a little disturbing?”
“Sarat,” said Baz, then stopped, not wanting to enter into a dissertation.  “Sarat is not – is no longer a fresh-faced youth wholly concerned with the exoteric.”
They digested that in silence and retired.
 
The singing began just before dawn, clearly a lament.  Duvi stirred, thnking it first light, but the glow was coming from a far corner of the room.  She touched Saryulin’s shoulder.  He grunted, then sat up, he too thinking it was dawn.  The girl wore a cloak of forest green.  I know you, said Duvi, despite herself.  The girl smiled.  I am Brig.  I mourn my lord.   My lady, said Saryulin.  You are welcome always at Carlin.  She smiled again and faded.   I am really rather shaken, observed Duvi after a moment.
 
Now dawn is breaking over Azt, and this most terrible of days begins.  People who have fallen asleep in the arms of their loved ones are stirring, sleeping-bags are unzipped.  The unsung heroes of this day will surely prove to be the charity workers making sure everyone gets something hot inside him.  Or of course her.  With such crowds calculation of numbers is practically impossible but most people think every female who can walk unaided is out here and some who can’t.  An old lady in a wheelchair has been reported  in the Colonnade!
 
Marula was almost entirely silent at breakfast, throughout their preparations.  Cantilip got out of her what had happened later.
 
Finally we move to the Palace from where Her Imperial Majesty will begin her final journey.  From behind the Palace appears – no, no, it’s not a car, it’s a carriage, a silver gun-carriage pulled by six silver horses – we have learned of course that the imperial family does not do black as the colour of mourning.   Now the coffin has been placed on the carriagee and the Imperial Guard line up for the final salute.  The carriage is preparing to draw away.   From both sides of the Palace come the procession, all in silver, all on silver horses.  His Imperial Majesty leads a riderless horse!   This is grace, that is style.  Would we expect any less?  He is wearing a sword!  Is that traditional?  Behind him come Pietri and Caluna Talal – everyone is wearing a sword, the ladies and the gentlemen alike!  I guess that’s one way of confronting the security issue!  Vij and Sarshi Talal, Mel and Cantilip Talal,  Hasiyata and Venga Talal.  Behind them are my lord and lady of Var-segan and my lord and lady of Carlin.  My lady of van-senok follows them.  Behind Marula Za-fenan, oh my heaven, it’s PANTHER and the Hadin-Wadud, but not, I swear, as you have previously seen our gallant defenders.  Did you know PANTHER had a dress uniform?  Baz and Paw, of course, they must have known Maya as long as Sarat did!  Little Jaizi.  As we know, Jaizi was born in Tjulsit…   .   
              Plotters Central, thought the less romantic.
              A day of peace, sir?  Challin collapsed.  This is all-out war!  Let me re-interpret Her Imperial Highness’ touching words.   The only politics will be displayed by us.
              Anyone start anything, thought Karci, and we cut your head off.  I do like that thought.
              Now the cortege is passing through the gates of the Palace into the streets of Azt.  The crowds are absolutely silent except – something is happening in that crowd.  People are starting to hold up placards: We love you.  As the coffin passes, as Sarat passes, people are bowing, curtseying, saluting.
This crowd is not silent!  It is like a susurration.  As the procession passes, most especially of course as Sarat passes, they murmur.  My lords, my ladies.  Imperial Majesty.  What is going on here is like a pact, an oath of allegiance, a vow.  It’s like an electric current.  It’s like Narulis riding by!  Is that the point?  Sure, tomorrow it’ll be Sarat, that’s crap.  Mel, you’re talking garbage…
 
Now they’ve nearly reached the Summer Palace and joining them are six cars.  Who do we think are in those six cars?  Obviously Sarat’s mother and father….The cortege is passing through the gates of the Summer Palace and the gates swing shut behind…
 
A journo crept along the wall. 
Interrupt this, said a squaddy cheerfully, and you die.
See that, added his corporal enthusiastically, that’s a safety-catch.  Now, supposing I put it off.
All righty, all righty! 
Why don’t you blokes get it?
 
Some reactions now from the crowd…
 Nobody’d have minded, lad!  I just shook me head.  Nobody’d have minded if he’d drove.
Int never seen anything so flaming brave in me life.
In yer face, you – well, never mind.
 
Now the gates have opened to allow the cars to leave and slammed tight shut again.  It looks like they’re heading straight for the airport…There is some precision timing going on here….No, no, some are clearly going into Azt…
Indeed Sarat who had felt an almost palpable relief when even his nearest and dearest and closest had gone and he didn’t have to speak to anyone and who was now kneeling by the grave reciting something (Mitch couldn’t catch the words) showed no particular sign of wishing to leave.
Mitch looked quickly at his watch.
All the time in the world.
Time passed.
Once more the Gates are opening and Sarat rides out. Following him – but this is a different set of riders.  Mitch and Karula var-segan, Falita Em- I mean Falita San-yaega-baht, but I do not recognize – I am told the other lady and gentleman are Sorg’s mother and father and here too are PANTHER and the H-W.  I am being handed an official statement.  This is for everyone who has suffered grievous loss at the hands of the Cult.  This is our answer. Oh my.  I guess PANTHER is finding this a very long war.  What PANTHER has suffered, the corruption of the throne, the flight back to Fidub…They’re going to ride all the way to the House of Silence, right? 
Right.
 
Now they’re arriving at the House of Silence and you could hear a feather drop, never mind a pin.  Really, you could not think so many people could be so still.  Sarat is – they are all dismounting and removing their swords.  They’re going in now…
 
Sarat walked through the House of Silence and took the stand.  Mel took the stand in Zur, Cho in Maona-pri.  Sarat will speak for us all.
 
Star turn.  Culmination.
 
Dear people, I thank you.  I shall not say in my worst dreams I never imagined but of course the reality.  Some have called us heedless, foolhardy.  We pay then for our folly?  We do not skulk, cringe before Death the Great Master – “ The contempt in his voice was palpable.   “And so some will say is this devastation we experience, is this ceremonial we conduct, not in obedience, obeisance to Death.”  Oh Sarat, breathed Mitch.  “We are human.  To be human is to love.  We grieve because we love, but love must conquer our grief, our fear.  We feel the pain and pass through it into love.  We are here today in love to love, to affirm the triumph of love.  Love endures.  We are here because we love Maya, not because we loved her, an ephemeral state, soon forgotten.  This flame symbolizes that love.  It is no feeble thing, readily extinguished.  It is Light.  It is power.  It is all power.  Death has no power over us.  And so there is not an ending but a change, as every atom in the flame changes from moment to moment.  Once more things are different but also they are the same.  There is no faltering in our resolution, no dent in our love.
 
“‘They came, the skull-faces, but we laughed.’  This Narulis wrote in his Journal – “  When a very large number of people gasp, it makes a noise, however quietly they try to do it.  Sarat continued.  This I say to you today.  They cannot destroy laughter.  Today we feel far from it, I perhaps most of all, but all sorrow must pass. 
 
I am here because I love Maya.  My lady is my grace and my truth.  My lady is my resolution and my culmination. To my lady I say, they cannot destroy our love.
 
I thank you all for being here.  I thank you all, on Maya’s behalf, on my own, for your love.
 
He bowed and walked slowly out.  A single flute played the Requiem.
It wasn’t quiet any more.  Too many people crying.
After a moment, Saryulin, Duvi, Mitch, Karula and Marula followed him out.  They got into the waiting cars.  It was over.
 
As Sarat drives away through a silent Azt, we move to Zur, where Alzani-Meta leaves the House of Silence.
The first crashing chords hit the screens. 
Sarat frowned.
All of us of course know Dabida’s unofficial anthem.  They’ve changed the words!  They’re calling it the ‘It’s what Maya would have wanted song’!
The words flashed on the screen. .
Does Sarat fail?  Does Sarat quail?  No, he does not, our brave Sarat!  Come hadin, come.
A roar went up from the crowd in Azt as they took up the words.
Sarat seemed in shock.
“I don’t think I’m going to escape,” he said after a moment. .
“If we go down Sertal we can get to the Colonnade.”
“Mel hasn’t,” said Sarat.
“I thank you,” Mel was saying.
“Sir.”
“We just think we have never seen anything so fucking brave in our lives.”
Pietri smiled.
“I am relieved we can rely upon Zuri to be formal and sober on all occasions.”
“Sir.  It’s the you looked death in the face and told him to go – to get stuffed day.”
Sarat has turned off.  Yes, he’s heading for the Colonnade.  Such an outpouring of affection, of, use the word , love must be a very  real support to him – he’s stopped outside the Imperial, he’s getting out.  The crowd has stopped in mid-chorus.  They’re starting to sing the imperial anthem.  I really don’t know about this, must it not to Sarat be a tragic reminder of that first jubilant night in Azt, but this is no heavy metal rendition but almost stately and every soldier present – let’s face it now our hearts are no longer in our mouths there are very many soldiers present and the security arrangements of this day – every soldier is rigidly at attention.  But what is good, what is great, what too is a measure of how far Kadun has travelled, is every soldier of every army and Sarat is I think thanking them.  Now he has turned to the crowd.  He’s saluting them and I guess he’ll stay at the salute until they’ve finished singing…OK, they’ve finished.  What now? 
Sarat said once again: I thank you all for being here.  I thank you all, on Maya’s behalf, on my own, for your love.  He got back into the car. 
Now I guess he’s really going home.  If we cut now to Maona-pri…
On this most terrible of days the ‘It’s what Maya would have wanted song’ lifts up hearts the world over, and I would hope it is not presumptuous, Cho, to think yours is among them.
I thank Dabida, I thank Kadun..  At the start of such a day it is hard to think it may end on so firm an affirmation of love and hope.  For that of course I thank  Sarat who found the words to articulate that affirmation.”
“That was some – address.”
“I am so proud of him,” said Cho.  “I am so proud of him it hurts.”
“People are saying – he just said everything.”
“Everything that matters,” said Cho.
 
“Every damn’ paper in Harn.”
Bal groaned.
“Every damn’ paper in the world.”
There is only one headline,  Seani had said.  Most of the world’s press agreed.
WE DO NOT DO COWERING.  The Azt Star made it into a graphic, a red circle with the word ‘cowering’ in the middle and a red line through it. 
 
They arrived at the Palace and vanished off the world’s radar.
“Now I collapse,” said Sarat.  “My lords, my ladies, I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”
“Imperial Majesty! Think nothing of it.”
Pots of coffee were brought. 
Sarat smiled.
“I think tea for my lady of Carlin.”
“Darling,” said Duvi, “so long as it’s hot and wet.”
At length Saryulin said: “You wish to talk?  You wish to be alone?”
“At this moment,” said Sarat, “I may be beyond knowing.”
“I’ll stay,” said Mitch.
The rest wandered off to try to sleep.
“I have an idea,” muttered Mitch.  He disappeared into the kitchen, emerged to raid the drinks cabinet and disappeared again to surface with two glasses of something pale green.. 
“Get this down you.”
Sarat examined the glass.
“Poison?”
“An old family recipe.  We call it the reviver.”
Sarat downed the lot, then threw the glass across the room.
“Yeah,” said Mitch.
“I think maybe I just want to sit,” said Sarat.  “Let the screaming pass through me.”
“Just yell if you need me,” said Mitch.
Some hours later Mitch surfaced.
“Food is good.  You need to eat, Sarat.”
“I’ve been thinking,” said Sarat.  “I really don’t know how to be without her.  Have to start from scratch.”
They were 15, thought Mitch, damn and blast everything to hell, they were 15!  It’s almost like he has had no life without her.
 
“I really don’t think it matters any more,” said Cho.
“Agreed,” said Faun. “There’s just one thing you need to know before you come.”
“Sarat?”
“Sarat, I hope,  is managing to get some sleep.  The crowds are still on the streets, Cho.  Not so many,  Sure, some people have gone home.  They say they should see the day out, it’s not right to go home until midnight, a new day.  We tried to look that one up.  Can’t find anything.  I think they’re making it up as they go along. “
“What could be nicer.”
 “They got it so wrong.”
“A day behind bullet-proof glass.”
“A day behind bullet-proof glass could not have ended quite like this.”
“I really don’t want,” said Cho, “to – “ He smiled.  “Intrude.  I think this is strictly doting grandfather.”

Cho slunk into the back of the Imperial.   . 
They showed him into Sarat’s office.  Shav looked up, looking tired.
“Just running the joint.  Talk about a wing and a prayer!  His Imperial Majesty is not receiving tonight.  Everyone has just about grasped that but the world does not stop turning. . I rang Mitch.  He says Sarat’s doing just fine working his way through it.  The strain of today.  I don’t think I could have done that.”
“I don’t think he could have done it without Mitch.  Where’re Zik and Ven?”
“Selflessly I toil while my sisters sleep!  No way.  Zika was last seen in a really rather heavy-duty discussion about metaphysics.  Really Sarat, if you will say these things,” she added innocently.   “Ven said she was off to the canteen and hasn’t been seen since.”
“Tell her she’ll get fat.”
He slunk away again and headed for the Palace.
 
“I told him he had to eat.  He said he didn’t know how to be without her.”
“Where is he?”
“Sitting.”
“Sitting where?”
“If you want to be literal,” said Mitch, “he’s sitting on the step leading from the sitting-room to the bedroom.  I don’t think it matters where he’s sitting.”  He sighed.  “He’s – talking to people.  Sometimes.  This place!”
“My lord of Var-segan,” said Cho with mock severity, “your rationalism is inappropriate.”
Mitch sighed again.
“Duvi had a little chat to Brig.”
Cho laughed out loud and made his way to the sitting-room,
“Sarat?  Narulis?  How does one put the lights on?”
Sarat picked up the remote and became visible.
“My dear boy.”
“The show went on, my most intimate feelings on display to what, a hundred million worldwide.  I have never in my life felt so alone.”
“That is not the word?” suggested Cho.
“That is not the word,” agreed Sarat gravely.  “Naked.  Flayed.  I did it my way.” 
“Where is the kitchen?” asked Cho.
Sarat got up slowly.
“Shall I feel better with a good strong cup of coffee inside me?”
“I shall,” said Cho.
“There is an exquisitely concealed sink in the corner.  Like in The Room.”  He fiddled with the remote again and sat on the settee while Cho put the kettle on.  “The weight of being Anile Emperor.”
“Sarat…”  If you put on a show that tears people’s hearts open, that flays the world. . “This also – devastates?”
“Where is the next beginning?”
“This you – contemplate?”  Cho found the biscuit tin. “Eat!”
“I sit here in the dark,” said Sarat, “Not because I am devastated, although I am devastated, but because I do not yet know the start of the next continuum.”
“You know,” said Cho.
“Now I am Kadun,” said Sarat.  “There can be no errors of judgement because the poor boy is bereft.”
“You do not do badly thus far.  Coffee.”
 “My lady,” continued Sarat, “was my privacy.  Does that make sense?  A part of me shielded from the world.”
 
The airwaves continued babbling into the night.
You could say it was a statement of – of emotional unity between Kadun and Dabida, and if that seems strange because it also seemed it was never any other way. 
It is almost unbearably poignant because Sarat and Maya symbolized that unity but only by her death did it become fully real.
I wouldn’t disagree with that, but I’d say it’s also – also a change in perception of Sarat.  Who today thought Sarat some Fidubi guy!  He is Kadun, man!
It’s like all the mental barriers, the labels, just dissolved.
I think that’s the opposite of what I just said!
Maybe.
Of course no-one has doubted a deep-seated set of convictions underpinned the entire enterprise.
He’s killed Jaizal!
Dabida will not tolerate an emperor in Azt! It was another world!
I thnk it’ll take us a little time to truly get the hang of what has happened here today. 
If we turn to one of the most famous choruses in the world, ‘Come hadin come, come not alone’, and just contemplate the symbolism of Kadun singing that to the rest of the continent, which is nearly as bad as Dabida singing it to the rest of the continent, don’t you think it astonishing that those words remained unchanged?
No-one ever censored Zuri.
You mean Zur is singing that demanding some action around here?
Wouldn’t you be?
I think it’s only – only when you really understand they don’t give that – he snapped his fingers – about dying – haven’t we asked, why weren’t these kids too scared to get out of bed in the morning?
Challin abruptly turned the radio off and continued his internal dialogue with Sarat.  We are human, meaning we are animal.  Our drive is to survive.  We don’t like it at the time.  What else are we, sir?  I operate on a need to know basis.  If I am to die for you, I need to know.
 
Sarat expressed a desire to sleep and stretched out on the settee.  Cho covered him with a blanket and slipped away.
“The flowers keep coming,” said Mitch.   “As people go home, they drop them off!”
Cho said: “Asyrion in a field with flowers.”  Then: “He will be different.”
“He is different,” said Mitch.
Sarat woke just before dawn. 
“I love you,” he said sleepy but cognisant. He got up and walked over to the window.  The flowers were waist-high.  He almost refound his sense of humour.  How can I cope!  He heard Maya giggle.
 
Time for the real world.  Nothing realler, honey.  We’re dead and we don’t even know it.  Or you were, my love. and you knew it.  You couldn’t convince us we were dead because we weren’t.  What is being screamed at us is everything is whole.  Oh how does it work?  Not now, he told himself, but he went outside and  waded into the flowers to read the cards.
CLICK CLICK CLICK
“Vultures,” said Jaizi affectionately.
Sarat looked up.
“Watch it,” he said.  “She has a sword.”
There was a tremor of shock.
“You got a sword, Sarat?”
“I have a sword,” said Sarat. 
He went inside and dressed, then made a few phone calls.
 
“We understood,” observed Challin, “nothing.”
“Zilch,” said Karci, “the Big O.”
“You look shaken.”
“Isn’t everyone?”
Challin smiled.
 
“Them flowers, said Varulin.  “A word in your shell-like.”  He grinned at As. “Sir.  Think this is a ‘sir’ sort of conversation, you having been through it and all.”  Asdinan knew Varulin had lost a daughter from meningitis.  “Being also better educated, socially elevated and spiritually more advanced, as you are.”
“Me?” said As..  “Come on, I’m an infant!’
“Well, maybe I’m an embryo,” said Varulin.  “Maybe I can’t take it from the folks who hear the wheels of the universe.”
“You want to talk about death?” hazarded As.
“Yes and no,” said Varulin.  “I want – you could say I want to report to the CinC only I don’t think at this minute. There’s lots of things I want to say and I’m buggered if I know where to start.  It’s like – advice for a start.  Folk don’t want to be cool any more.  They want to sort of pledge their swords.  Then there’s the flowers.  It’s love or hate now, and if it’s love blokes want to show it only we don’t know how.  It’s like formality isn’t empty after all. People are talking about death,” he ended in a rush.  “First time in my life, like it was – that’s not what I mean.  Like it was natural, even when it ain’t.  You know folks say you go to a field of flowers.  Do you believe in an after-life?”
“I don’t know,” said Asdinan.  “I don’t know what I believe.  What I have heard, what I have learned. Even the – folks who hear the wheels,  They – can’t make out all the words.  If – if you ask me if I think Maya is in a field with flowers in some other – dimension, no, no, I don’t, I think I don’t.  I think it’s a beautiful idea and she may be – in some form of beautfiul state.  How d’you give yourself if not through obedience?”
“That’s it,” said Varulin.  Sorg’s answer hung between them.  “I think,” said Varulin, “we’re all ready to do that.”
“It will not come to that,” said Asdinan with some force.
But Varulin said: “Perhaps it should.”
As nodded. 
“Was that the first mistake, not to force an open war?”
“I really don’t know,” said Varulin.
“Were they too nice?”
“Don’t reckon they’re going to be quite so nice now..”
“But that is not the answer.”
“Now it is.  We all know what they said.  Fresh start.  Can’t prosecute everyone who’s compromised.  There’s not many compromised now.  No-one’s going to bleed if he hangs them.”
 It’s not how they do things in Fidub, thought Asdinan.  They don’t have the fucking Cult in Fidub.
“Kadun’s been going a long time,” continued Varulin.  “Lots of stories.”
“Sure,” said As.
“When she died.  I was there.”
“Yes,” said As.
“I been thinking about that a lot.  I think he was with her, if you know what I mean.  I can’t explain. I don’t know nothing.  That man was not in this world.”
 “I know they – join minds,” said As.
“So if one’s going – other’s going too.”
“Unless they’re forced apart,” said As with a sort of dawning horror.
“Baz,” said Varulin.  “I have never ever seen him lose it like that.”
“I think perhaps,” said As, “the exact stresses of that particular moment may be something we’ll never know or should know.”
Varulin grinned suddenly.
“But we should be very very nice to him.”
“Very very nice,” said As.