“We’ve heard all that before, Wilton!” somebody from the Lancedale side called out. “What do you want to talk about that you haven’t gotten on every record of every meeting for the last thirty years?”
“Why, this Pelton business,” Graves snapped back at him. “You know what I mean. Your own associates are responsible for it!” He turned back to face the chair, and, with a surprising minimum of invective, described the scene in which Claire Pelton had demonstrated her Literacy. “And that’s not all, brother Literates,” he continued. “Since then, I’ve been receiving reports from the Pelton store. Claire Pelton has been openly doing the work of a Literate; going over the store’s written records, checking inventories, checking the credit guide, handling the price lists—”
“What’s that got to do with Black Literacy?” Gerald Toppington demanded. “Black Literacy is a term which labels the professional practice of Literacy, for hire, by a non-Fraternity Literate, or Literate service furnished for criminal or politically subversive purposes, or the betrayal of a client by a Fraternity Literate. There’s nothing of the sort involved here. This girl, who does appear to be Literate, is simply looking after the interests of her family’s business.”
“She was taught by a Literate, a Fraternities-member, under, to say the very least, irregular circumstances, and without payment of any fee. Any fee, that is, that the Fraternities can collect any percentage on. And the Literate who taught her also taught her younger brother, Ray Pelton, and this Literate, who is known to be her lover—”
“Suppose he is her lover, so what?” one of Lancedale’s partisans demanded. “You say, yourself, that she’s a Literate. That ought to remove any objection. Why, if she were to come forward and admit and demonstrate her Literacy, there’d be no possible objection from the Fraternities’ viewpoint to her marrying young Prestonby.”
“And as for Prestonby’s action in teaching Literacy to her and to her brother,” Cardon spoke up, “I think he deserves the thanks and commendation of the Fraternities. He’s put a period to four generations of bigoted Illiterates.”
Wilton Joyner was on his feet. “Will Literate Graves yield for a motion?” he asked. “Thank you, Harvey. Literate President, and brother Literates: I yield to no man in my abhorrence of Black Literacy, or in my detestation for the political principles of which Chester Pelton has made himself the spokesman, but I deny that we should allow the acts and opinions of the Illiterate parent to sway us in our consideration of the Literate children. It has come to my notice, as it has to Literate Graves,’ that this young woman, Claire Pelton, is Literate to a degree that would be a credit to any Literate First Class, and her brother can match his Literacy creditably against that of any novice in our Fraternities. To show that we respect Literate ability, wherever we find it; to show that we are not the monopolistic closed-corporation our enemies accuse us of being; to show that we are not animated by a vindictive hatred of anything bearing the name of Pelton—I move, and ask that my motion be presented for seconding, that Claire Pelton, and her brother, Raymond Pelton, be duly elected, respectively, to the positions of Literate Third Class and Literate Novice, as members of the Associated Fraternities of Literates!”
From the Joyner-Graves side, there were dutiful cries of, “Yes! Yes! Admit the young Peltons!” and also gasps of horrified surprise from the rank-and-filers who hadn’t been briefed on what was coming up.
Lancedale was on his feet in an instant. “Literate President!” he cried. “In view of the delicate political situation, and in view of Chester Pelton’s violent denunciation of our Fraternities—”
“Literate Lancedale,” the President objected. “The motion is not to be debated until it has been properly seconded.”
“What does the Literate President think I’m doing?” Lancedale retorted. “I second the motion!”
Joyner looked at Lancedale in angry surprise, which gradually became fearful suspicion. His stooge, who had already risen with a prepared speech of seconding, simply gaped.
“Furthermore,” Lancedale continued, “I move an amendment to Literate Joyner’s motion. I move that the ceremony of the administration of the Literates’ Oath, and the investiture in the smock and insignia, be carried out as soon as possible, and that an audiovisual recording be made, and telecast this evening, before twenty-one hundred.”
Brigade commander Chernov, prodded by Cardon, jumped to his feet.
“Excellent!” he cried. “I second the motion to amend the motion of Literate Joyner.”
If there were such a thing as a bomb which would explode stunned silence, Lancedale and Chernov had dropped such a bomb. Cardon could guess how Joyner and Graves felt; they were now beginning to be afraid of their own proposition. As for the Lancedale Literates, he knew how many of them felt. He’d felt the same way, himself, when Lancedale had proposed the idea. He got to his feet.
“Literate President, brother Literates,” he raised his voice. “I call for an immediate vote on this amended motion, which I, personally, endorse most heartily, and which I hope to see carried unanimously.”
“Now, wait a minute!” Joyner objected. “This motion ought to be debated—”
“What do you want to debate about it?” Chernov demanded. “You presented it, didn’t you?”
“Well, I wanted to give the Council an opportunity to discuss it, as typical of our problems in dealing with Black. … I mean, non-Fraternities. … Literacy—”
“You mean, you didn’t know it was loaded!” Cardon told him. “Well, that’s your hard luck; we’re going to squeeze the
