Authors: Ben Elton
On the morning scheduled for Trafford's public execution
the news loops were filled with the story that the heretic of
Wembley, the man who had openly boasted of poisoning
his child, was also a member of a sinister sect, a secret,
subversive terrorist organization. Worse even than the
suicide-bombing teenagers of the Other Faith, these
people, the news reported, sought to revive the dreadful
lies of the monkey men through study and teaching. Their
sworn aim was to bring back the very delusions that had
caused the Love to send down his terrible flood in the
first place.
The route to the funeral pyre along which Trafford was
whipped was therefore lined with many thousands of
outraged citizens, a great crowd blind with fury over the
heretic pervert who enjoyed poisoning children and who
believed his great-grandfather was a monkey.
At the place of execution the other members of the
sect had already been crucified and were hanging, still
alive, from the crosses to which they had been nailed. The
crowd hurled mud and stones at them as some begged for
mercy and offered to repent while others stayed silent.
Trafford noticed that Connor Newbury did not plead.
Trafford was surprised; he had not credited him with
such character.
Chantorria was there too, naked and in the stocks, a
willing object of scorn, her mind half gone with grief and
fear, babbling that only through her suffering might her
baby one day find her way to Heaven.
Trafford mounted the steps from which he was to be
put on to the fire. With a chill of anguish he saw that
the pyre was made of books and he realized this was
the contents of the library that had brought him so
much happiness.
Confessor Bailey was already in place when Trafford
reached the top of the steps. As his Confessor, it was
Bailey's job to demand of Trafford that he recant and deny
his beliefs prior to his execution.
'Trafford Sewell,' he intoned solemnly into the
microphone, clearly relishing his moment in the spotlight,
'do you confess to being a Vaccinator and a reader of
books and a believer in the so-called "science" of the
monkey men?'
'I do,' Trafford replied loudly, 'and proudly!'
The crowd shrieked its derision. Looking down, Trafford
saw that Princess Lovebud and Tinkerbell had somehow
forced themselves to the front of the crowd. Their faces
were ugly with spite.
'Will you recant your sins?' Confessor Bailey called. 'Will
you deny that vaccination is a science and that man
evolved rather than being created in one day by God?'
'No. Never.'
'Then you must be burned alive.'
'A faith which has to be extorted is worthless!'
'Burn him!'
Trafford had never dreamed that he would have the
strength to die rather than recant but now he found it. As
they bound him to the stake, he stared down into the faces
of the crowd. A microphone was pointed in his direction
in readiness for his screams.
'Everlasting Love!' he called out suddenly. 'Everlasting
love!
Ev Love! Ev Love! Ev Love!
'
For a moment there was quiet in the crowd, everybody
anxious to hear what last blasphemy the heretic had
decided to deliver.
'Don't look forward into ignorance!' Trafford cried.
'Look
backwards
to enlightenment. Look
backwards
. Ev
Love, backwards I tell you. Ev Love!
Ev Love backwards
.'
And in that moment, as the hooded executioner
advanced with his burning torch to light the pyre, Trafford
saw a waving hand in the crowd. He turned to look,
expecting a familiar face, but the man who caught his eye
was a stranger. As Trafford looked, the man pointed at his
vest. On it were written the words
Ev (erlasting) Love!
The man nodded steadily at Trafford.
Looking round the crowd, Trafford caught sight of a
girl on her boyfriend's shoulders. She carried a banner.
The banner said
Ev Love
. The girl was not cheering but
merely staring intently towards Trafford, her boyfriend
staring too.
Sandra Dee had taken his bait and gone looking for
evidence of his love! For whatever reason – curiosity,
sentiment or mere psychological interest – she had entered
Trafford's folder on the DegSep computer and opened the
Ev Love file. He had tricked her in the end and caused her
to release his viral email. Millions of people had received
the first Humanist mail shot.
Trafford was placed on the bonfire and the fire was lit.
But as the flames from the burning books began to lick
about his feet, he found one last moment to smile, for he
knew in his heart of hearts that one day the Temple would
be defeated.
Reason
dictated it. Reason and the theory of
evolution. For no society based on nothing more
constructive than fear and brutish ignorance could survive
for ever. No people who raised up the least inventive, the
least challenging, the least
interesting
of their number
while crushing individual curiosity and endeavour could
prosper for long. Trafford knew that natural selection
would save the world, as it had done before when other
tyrants had tried to crush the human spirit, and that one
day the Confessors of the Temple would be extinct.
THE END
One house, ten contestants, thirty cameras, forty microphones,
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Douglas Kingsley is sent to Flanders in 1917 to investigate the
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'RIVETING ACTION SCENES BRISTLE WITH A QUEASY
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