Free Memory of Morning by Susan Sizemore Page B

fisherman who began the family passed meritocracy along to their descendants even before it was a formal philosophy, long before it was a movement.
    The cleric slowly stood, looking threatening enough for me to have to fight the urge to back toward the door.
    "You are--"
    "We are done here," the legal officer cut him off.
    The cleric whirled to face the naval men. "I have only begun with this--!"
    "The Imperial Navy only agreed to allow an examination of religious matters," the lawyer said. "You are attempting to exceed your brief. That will not be allowed."
    The cleric glanced, almost furtively, at the admiral. Personally, I would have quailed beneath the glare the admiral turned on the cleric. The cleric snapped his mouth shut and gave a stiff nod. That was good enough for me.
    "You may go, Dr. Cliff," the legal officer said.
    I didn't waste time with even a thank you, a curtsy, or a good-bye. I went.
     
    Straight back to Lilac House.
    My heart was pounding when I rushed into the parlor where my mother was talking and Miss Apple was taking dictation. They looked up in surprise when I rushed in and shut the door behind me.
    I sat down beside Miss Apple and took her pad and pen from her. I sketched quickly and showed the drawing to my staring mother. "Do you know this badge?"
    She was already frowning at my strange behavior. Her frown deepened when she looked at the sketch. She was silent for a moment. Somewhere in the depths of the house, Belladem was singing.
    "Are these fools threatening you?" mother asked.
    "I think he was really threatening you," I answered. "The cleric who questioned me on a ridiculous pretense referred to you as a heretic."
    "Warning me," she said. She sighed. Mother tried not to get angry with anyone, but I noticed that her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, rigid and white with strain. That was always a sign she was furious and holding it in. "I dislike their going though my daughter to do so."
    "But who are they and why the warning? Why a sudden attack on belief in the All?"
    Or perhaps this wasn't so sudden. I had been away from larger Ang society for a while. Perhaps my memories of home had softened the edges of reality and added an idealistic glow.
    "It is not so much the All that this particular faction is worried about, but about a noblewoman teaching anything new," mother said. "And not even so much about teaching new philosophy, but teaching it to those outside the elite class."
    "But you've taught at Avan for years!"
    "Not as co-head of one of the four houses of Welis," she said.
    A flustered housemaid opened the parlor door a crack. "Dr. Cliff, there is a gentleman who--"
    Danil Heron pushed into the room past the maid. His neckcloth was askew, his thick, dark hair tousled. There was a certain wildness in his eyes. He slammed the door. "I heard a Gracer tried to get to you," he said to me. "Are you all right?"
    I stood up, and looked up, into his concerned face. I was more happy to see him than I was shocked at his intrusion. "Gracers?" I asked.
    "Committees of Grace," Mother said. "Fanatical Reactionary Catspaws would be a better name."
    "But they're called Gracers, and now they're going after the Navy," Dr. Heron said.
    "Now?" I asked.
    "There are several clerical committees conducting investigations - into university courses, at private schools, at open temples. Now it seems they are targeting the military as well. The Gracers are looking for any perceived heresy and sedition," Miss Apple said. "They started using the excuse that the Empire needs to return to ancient traditions that predate the Red Fever."
    "Such as the All and meritocracy?" I asked. "But those concepts have been around for a many generations." I sat down.
    Dr. Heron sat down close beside me.
    "The Gracers consider those concept new enough to be wiped out, if possible. Probably because what we believe did not originate among the noble class."
    "People who oppose the concept of one god with many faces, and people