The next day Martha leaves without me; so I tell Brill to forget about the bus and I run all the way to Bethany House alone. When I reach the point where the escape tunnels meet, I see something new has been added to the large metal door that says “Danger! Do not Enter.” A paper sign written in Martha’s script says: “Beware of Monsters.” I don’t know if it’s some sort of peace offering or what. I take it with me and put it on the door to my room.
I enter the command center unchallenged. Martha glances at me, but doesn’t acknowledge my presence. It’s like the staff can feel the air cooling in the room and they do their best to avoid eye contact with either of us. I look at the duty roster and find that nobody is assigned to guard me anymore. I walk to Martha and watch heads tilt to listen, as usual.
“Thanks for removing the guards.”
She still refuses to look at me.
“That’s right. You’re not a prisoner anymore. You’re free to go.”
Heads snap up around the room.
“I see. Am I also free to stay?”
Martha drops her voice to a whisper.
“If you don’t think it’ll ruin you. It’s your choice.”
I put my hand on her shoulder and allow it to linger.
“If you don’t mind having a monster in the house, then I’ll stay.”
“Sure. I can use the company.”
****
I haven’t been assigned any duties and with no guards, there’s no captive audience to spar with me. I try to practice throwing knives, but a consistent throw is still eluding me; so I give up. Amelia is waiting by the door to my room when I get back.
“Martha sent me. There’s another lecture to hack.”
“Why’d she send you? She likes to handle the controls herself.”
“She knows I like chess. I guess she thought I was a good pawn in whatever game you two are playing.”
I notice the “Beware of Monsters” sign is gone from my door. I look down the hall and see it’s now on Martha’s door.
Amelia and I go to the studio and I take my place at the podium. I’m adjusting my trademark necktie a few minutes before the scheduled start, when the screen unexpectedly comes to life and Aislin’s face appears.
“I guess you were serious about returning to teaching.”
“I’m nothing, if not a man of my word. I thought it took weeks to schedule a conference with you.”
“That’s Garai. I swear sometimes I wait for him to make a sheet of paper by hand before he replies to me. We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot with you and I’d like another chance. All I want is to help our common cause of a return to religious freedom. I have resources that can help make it happen, but you own the public’s trust. That trust is more power than I hold and, frankly, is more power than you seem to understand. We’re both people of power and such people should stick together.”
“Are you proposing some sort of a deal?”
“I’m proposing we both act to our mutual benefit and the benefit of the entire world. You and I both know that the current form of atheism under which we’re living is just a perverted kind of religion used to rob people of the right to choose the course of their lives, steal their resources, and give them an excuse to hate people of faith.”
Where have I heard those words before? Oh, yes. Henry Portman said much the same thing when referring to Christianity.
“Search your heart and you’ll see my way is the only way,” Aislin continues. “We must maintain the best parts of the current system if we have any hope of maintaining order.”
“We’ve been over this. You want to keep everything the same in terms of controlling people, but want to replace one form of Theocracy with another. I want no part in it.”
“I’ve found there are things in life which should always be chosen carefully, Professor. Your words and your friends are among those things.”
“It was also said long ago that it’s a good idea to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. I can’t help but wonder on which of your lists I’d find my name.”
“Perhaps on both,” she replies.
“Perhaps I belong on neither? I have a class to teach, so let’s leave it at this. I’m going to teach to whoever will listen. I have no intention of interfering with, or participating in, any of your plans or with Garai’s. If my teaching helps or hurts your agenda, it’s no concern of mine. Does that sound fair?”
“You act like you don’t have an agenda, but I don’t believe that. Everyone has an agenda.”
“I never said I have no agenda. I just want to be sure that my agenda is in line with God’s agenda.”
“You may soon find, Professor, that your agenda can change quickly.”
I end the call.
“That went well,” Amelia says from the control booth. “Aren’t you in the least bit tempted to take her up on her offer? ‘Mr. President’ does have a certain ring to it, you know.”
“Not even a little.”
The screen again comes to life and Talks-a-ton walks out of view without argument.
“Hello, everyone. Today I think we should talk about Pharisees and Sadducees.”
****
Amelia comes in from the control room when the lecture is done.
“We haven’t set up a time for our match,” she says. “If I forfeit, you’ll hold your spot on the board.”
“If you forfeit, what will either of us learn? I’ve been thinking a lot about this house competition and the lessons it’s already taught me. Being a Christian isn’t supposed to be easy, Amelia. We’re supposed to fight the good fight. Sometimes we’re going to win and sometimes we’re going to lose, but no matter which it is, we should always thank God for the experience and the opportunity to grow. If you trust Him and you trust me, let’s go right now.”
The computer won’t allow for any secret fights. The match is announced to the house, but we expect the gallery to be minimal. We’re wrong. By the time we have our safety padding on, most of the house has arrived, including Martha.
Amelia is bouncing up and down and punching the air, but I go to my knees and begin to pray aloud.
“As Paul wrote in Ephesians, ‘we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness.’ For that reason, Lord, I pray that through this match you may show us that there are many ways to fight the good fight in Your name. Amen.”
I glance up. Everyone’s head is bowed in prayer, but Martha looks up at me. I thought she’d have an impatient look, eagerly waiting for me to beat up on Amelia, but instead she’s lighting me up with a smile. It disappears as soon as Amelia looks her way.
Amelia is trained in judo, but has adopted some unconventional street fighter moves. She’d be a better fighter if she’d stick to a more disciplined style. Right now, the elements she’s trying to combine all seem to clash. Within two minutes of exploratory jabs and kicks, I feel I can read her every move. She attempts a punch, which I block because I knew it was coming.
“You drop your left hand by one centimeter before you punch with your right.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She attempts a roundhouse kick high, which I duck under but forego an easy counterattack.
“Three degree tilt in your pelvis before you do that move.”
I start to say her moves a split second before she even starts them.
“Right front kick. Left punch. Left side kick.”
She tries a three-move combination that comes from a common judo kata. The last part is a kick; so I catch her foot and use it to send her to the ground. She looks at me with her mouth open.
“Head tilt.”
“Is there any point in continuing? Or can you tell my next move by how my butt is contacting the ground?”
I put out my hand to help her up.
“Your next move is to stand up and fight the good fight. Now that you’re aware of what I’m doing, think about how to use it against me.”
She retakes a fighting position and drops her left hand to imitate the way I could tell she was going to throw a right punch. She exaggerates it too much; so I know it’s a fake and am ready for a left punch instead. Her moves continue to improve, so even though I can still tell what’s coming, I let her land a few punches and a kick.
“Hey!” Martha yells at me from the gallery. “Throwing a match is cheating. You knew what she was going to do, but you’re allowing her to score points anyway. Stop it.”
Amelia stops moving and lowers her arms.
“Is that true?” Amelia asks.
“Yes, but what would you learn if I just beat you to a pulp? I’m not taking the hits from you. I’m taking them for you.”
I look up at the gallery.
“Isn’t that what Christians do? Don’t we love our neighbor enough to take a hit for their benefit? Didn’t our Lord take the ultimate hit on the cross for our benefit? I’ll stand here and take hits from any one of you if I think it’ll save your life one day. Yes, it’ll hurt, but it’s worth taking a hit for people you care about.”
I look at Martha.
“Can we continue?”
She just shrugs, but I see that usual curling of the edge of her lip that tells me she’s happy when she’s pretending otherwise. I turn back to Amelia.
“You need to do more than just mask and vary your own signals. You need to read mine. Watch me carefully.”
I start a series of attacks. She blocks some of them, but others land hard to her head and body.
“Stop focusing on my hands. Relax your vision and watch all of me.”
Her blocks improve.
“It’s your eyes. You’re giving away your moves with your eyes.”
“Good. Now use the signals I’m giving off as part of your counterattacks.”
Her attack comes at me with smiles and laughs as she uses my eyes to predict my moves. I start to smile and laugh too.
“It’s like we’re dancing,” she says. “It’s so beautiful.”
I use my eyes to misdirect her, spin, hit her lightly in the head; then sweep her feet out from under her to send her tumbling.
“If that was the dip, I don’t like the dance anymore,” Amelia says.
“Never forget that when an opponent knows you’re reading their signals, it can became your weakness instead of theirs.”
The gallery begins to clap.
“I’m glad I didn’t forfeit, but I’m ready to concede - on one condition. Teach me.”
“No,” Martha says
All heads turn to her.
“He’s going to teach us all.”
****
The next day Martha adds me to the duty roster as “combat trainer,” which is eight hours of teaching classes to small groups, but I stay on for an additional four hours because people keep asking for private lessons. I eat a late dinner and fall into bed.
The next morning I’m awakened by the recurring dream that I’m in a blacksmith shop. I can’t get back to sleep; so even though the sun has barely risen, I dress and head for the training area to work out the kinks from yesterday.
Martha is in the sparring area, already covered in sweat from practicing stick moves. She stops when she sees me.
“It’s like watching a ballerina,” I say. “I wish I had a large bouquet of roses to throw to you.”
“I’m just trying to stay a step ahead, now that there’s a real threat to my spot on the board.”
“Maybe someday….”
She doesn’t reply.
“Since we’re alone, I want to apologize for what I said at the pool the other day.” I say. “I didn’t mean what I said at the end. I’m just not used to it.”
“Not used to what?”
“Getting hurt. When I was The Cult Hunter, nobody ever hurt me.”
“Then why did you leave it?”
“Nobody ever loved me either. The irony that you were just acting the part isn’t lost on me, but that said, I would like to start over and get to know the real Martha, as friends.”
“You say that now, but you’re still hanging onto Martha, the student. You won’t want to kiss the real me. I doubt you’ll even like me.”
“Don’t you remember what I said about the masks we wear?” I ask.
“You’re not getting it, Cephas. I have removed the mask. I really am the nasty shrew of a team leader that lies and keeps secrets and beats people with a stick when I’m mad.”
“You’re also the team leader who’s fair and kind and would do anything for her team. And for the record, you weren’t acting mad when you beat Stephen. You were acting jealous. You may have never loved me, but part of you still wants to be the student sitting in the grass in the park.”
“Of course I was jealous. It’s not fair. When will it be my turn to -”
“Your turn to what?”
“When will it be my turn to have something as simple as your friendship come easily?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I mean, everything is easy for you. You became an expert with a stun gun in a day. You learned combat skills in a week. You got the team to like you with two Bible studies. Even your match with Amelia looked more like a tickle fight than combat. The only thing that isn’t easy for you is-”
“Knife throwing?” I ask, and she glares.
“Me. The only thing that isn’t easy for you is being around me.”
She turns and puts the fighting stick back into the cabinet; so I sneak up behind her and grab her by the sides and attempt to tickle her ribs. She spins, smacks away my left hand, and puts my right arm into a painful wrist and elbow lock; then flips me to the ground. Lying there in the fir needles I can’t help but start laughing and find I can’t stop. Soon there are tears running down my face.
“Welcome to a tickle fight - Martha style,” I say.
At first, I’m laughing too hard to see that she’s not.
“What’s really funny is that I knew ahead of time that you were going to do that and I just let you do it.”
Martha is sitting against a rock, stone-faced.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Another hit you’ve taken for someone else. It’s exactly what I was talking about.”
I sit beside her and put my arm around her back, but say nothing.
“I ruin everything,” she says.
I slide my hand along her back until it rests just under her armpit.
“I thought I could-”
I start to wiggle my fingers. I feel her tense for a moment, then intentionally relax; so I start to dig my fingers in harder, making her squirm.
“Cephas, there’s so much more you need to know-.”
“Like the best spot to tickle you?”
I go into a full scale tickle assault. She tries to twist away, but I spin her and go after both armpits.
“C’mon, Martha. You must remember how. Let’s hear you laugh.”
She lets out a little snort; so I stop.
“That was a humble beginning,” I say.
I double my efforts until she’s laughing without me tickling at all. I lean back and take joy in watching her laugh until my face hurts from smiling.
“You always know what people need, Cephas, even when they don’t. Was tickling me just another piece of some puzzle that’s floating around in your head?”
She raises her hand to keep me from replying.
“On second thought don’t answer that. If I’m just another puzzle piece in your mind, I’d rather not know.”
****
I’m up early again the next day; so I stop by the command center. Most of the staff is still in bed, but Martha is here, looking at a screen displaying a map of North America. It’s similar to the one that shows which Four houses are online, but this one has roughly even numbers of red and green dots, with a few in blue. She sighs; then turns it off, but continues to stare at the blank screen.
“If you promise not to hurt me for trying, I’ll massage your shoulders,” I say.
“No, thank you.”
“You look stressed. Is everything okay?”
“It’s team leader business. Nothing for you to worry about.”
Amelia walks in carrying what looks like a hot cinnamon roll.
“Hey, guys. Look at what Brill sent for us.”
Martha looks at Amelia and then at me.
“I’m glad I skipped the massage. I have no interest in being the warm-up act.”
Martha storms from the room.
“What was that about?” Amelia asks.
Your impeccable timing.
“She was looking at the map just as I came in.”
“Oh. Did more houses vote?” she asks.
“That’s my guess. Let’s pull it up and take a look.”
Amelia brings the map up at her usual station. It’s a map of the Four network, as I thought, but I don’t know what the red and green mean.
“There it is,” Amelia says. “Zip took the house in Wichita. She’s only a few houses short of half the Council.”
“How many are left to vote?” I ask.
Amelia counts the blue dots.
“Just five and she needs to take them all. It’s not likely, considering Eugene and Berkeley have always voted for Austin in the past.
Is Four in the midst of an election? Or a civil war?