Chapter Two: Is This It?

"On your feet, Prisoner."

Biggs obeyed automatically and went to the wall furthest from the door. They'd brought half a dozen guards. More than they needed. Biggs felt a spike of fear. If Grant was going to punish his decision to quit; there'd be nothing he could do to save himself.

Biggs started praying to himself as the door opened… and the guards made a straight line, between him and his bookshelf. They weren't after him. They were taking his Bible.

"Sorry about this, Biggs." Colgan said. "Before you say it, this isn't Grant. The regulations about personal items were changed last night. I've got another thirty hours to get all religious material out of the cells. Apparently they're enforcing similar restrictions at public buildings. Hospitals, embassies, courthouses, police stations…"

Biggs' eyes flashed. "Everywhere?"

"Yup. We thought, given the recent change in your priorities, as well as… well, your history of putting people in the hospital wing, it might have been bloody, trying to take your Bible away."

"My sister gave it to me." Biggs said quietly. "Can it go with my personal effects, instead of… whatever you were gonna do with it?"

"That's not up to me, I'm afraid."

The Guards were already leaving, making their way up and down the row of cells. Biggs chewed his lip for a moment, and went to the wall, considering Garret's poster. Everyone inside had something on the walls. Supermodels, movies stars; one or two with athletes, or posters of expensive cars… Anything that they could look at beyond concrete walls.

Garret had a poster of a topless supermodel lazing on a sunny beach; and in all the time Biggs had been there; it hadn't moved. Biggs went to his bunk, and prised loose one of the bolts. Taking it to the wall, he pulled the poster down, listened for the sound of the guards walking past…

And Biggs started carving, scraping the edge of the bolt against the concrete, enough to draw a very thin line. He started scratching into the wall as quickly as he could, hoping his memory would hold out long enough.

Garret watched him scratch the words into the wall. Then Biggs went to the bunk, and pulled out the book under his pillow. A well-worn copy of 'Lost Horizon' from the Prison library. Between several pages were small slips of colored paper with printed writing on them. Biggs collected his bookmarks, and started carving again, reading from the slips.

"Where did those come from?" Garret asked.

"I'm only allowed one book." Biggs explained, carving as fast as he could. "My sister, she's been going to the conventions a lot longer than I've been studying. She says everyone studies on their phone or tablet now. I've been in here long enough that I've never actually owned a smartphone… But she still gets the Convention Programs on paper. You walk into the stadium, they hand you one at the door. There's a space to write some notes… The Convention themes are all scriptures."

Garret grinned. "You can't have a Bible or religious material, but a program is less than a pamphlet."

"A bookmark, really." Biggs nodded at the book on his bunk. "I've got four of them. They've taken my Bible, my bookmarks are all I've got. This and what I remember." He kept carving. "I'll put the poster back when I'm done, I promise."

Garrett grinned. "You'll be a dodger again. Secret Agent for Christ."

"I wouldn't be the first to keep my prayers hidden from prison guards." Biggs sighed. "Didn't think it would happen in this country."

Garret watched. "Your sister taught you that at some point, the world empires will declare war on all Religions." He commented. "I've seen the legal machine up close, Biggs. They can't agree on what to name a street. They need a majority before they'll do something as controversial as set up a new stop light. You really think they could do something that huge?"

"Yup." Biggs barely heard him, trying madly to remember long enough to carve. He had to go one line of each letter at a time.

~~/*\~~

Kit came home with a groan, glad to be done with the day. Her apartment wasn't much, but it was quiet; even with the worn out carpets and peeling wallpaper. Some of the brothers in her new Congregation had offered to come and donate some time and supplies to make the place nicer. She had accepted, but asked them to put it off until her brother came home. She wanted them to meet Biggs; and a working bee in her home seemed just the thing.

She looked at her Bible. There was no chance of study. She was tired, and she'd just read the same sentence a dozen times without getting any of it. Instead, Kit stuck leftover Chinese in the microwave and turned on the TV.

There was Breaking News. Kit changed the channel. News didn't help anyone relax after a long day.

The news was on all the other channels too.

Feeling a chill, Kit sat down to watch.

~~/*\~~

"...no official word from the Vatican, or the Council of Churches. For more on this story, we have our Religious Correspondent, Reverend Mercure. Reverend, can you… I'm being told that the Reverend is not available."

"There's a lot of that going around, Dan. Practically every member of the Clergy has been unavailable for comment. At first, we thought they were dodging us until the official statement was made; but it seems that practically every church in the city is in closed-door meetings with all their staff. Whatever it is, it's taking them by surprise."

"Whatever it is. For those of you just joining us, there's been major movement on all global markets in the last three hours. The UN has already called for a bailout of the largest banks in the western world; an action that is unprecedented in itself. What was thought to be another Financial Crash is now being attributed to deliberate liquidation of some of the largest discretionary funds in the private sector. Almost all liquid holdings of Religious Institutions have been removed from the Market."

"It's unheard of. The Churches are major shareholders in some of the world's most high-level financial institutions. Even the banks that they don't hold at least partial ownership of; they're still some of the largest accounts."

"The question everyone is asking: Why are the Religions all moving their money at the same time, and far more interestingly, where are they moving it to?"

"Likely suspects would be Switzerland and the Caymans."

"You're assuming they intend to hide their money."

"If they're investing that much in some grand plan to end world hunger; they'd have made an announcement. For that matter, if they were interested in doing that, they could have done so at any point. Why now?"

~~/*\~~

Kit stared at the screen, eyes flicking to the phone. She argued with herself for several moments, before picking it up and calling Brother Benedict, the Elder who had taken her through the Baptism questions…

His phone was busy.

"Yeah, I guess I'm not the only one." Kit breathed; and immediately started to pray.

~~/*\~~

Biggs had been nervous when the door to his cell opened. It wasn't a usual time. Colgan had escorted him to the Warden's Office. Such things happened, if the Warden wanted someone to clean up, or if there had been a death in the family. But a summons was never for anything good.

"Prisoner." The Warden said once he came in. "The last hearing ran lot longer than they thought it would. They have to move yours to tomorrow."

Biggs winced. "I knew it was a risk, last appointment of the day…"

"The Judge wants to eat, Biggs. It'll keep till tomorrow. And frankly, I've been at hundreds of these things. You don't want to roll the dice when the Judge is hungry, or in a bad mood. You want to get out of here, you need him in a forgiving mood. Pray that his wife doesn't nag him for anything tonight."

Biggs scoffed. "I really wanted to get there tomorrow. I wanted to…"

The Warden nodded. "I've seen guys 'fake a faith' when their Parole comes up. My guys tell me you've been to see Grant. I'm told you tendered your resignation. That's a real brave career move. That man owns a fair piece of this town. People who work for him can find a job."

"As long as we keep working for him on the side." Biggs nodded. "I get why you think I'm faking, but-"

"I don't. Not when I heard about you quittin' Grant."

"I've already had my stuff seized in retaliation, and heaven knows what he'll do once-"

"Grant is dead." The Warden told him quietly. "Keep that quiet. His enforcers don't know yet. When they find out, there's going to be a hell of a power struggle in here."

Biggs stared at him, suddenly realizing why he'd been summoned to someplace private. "Dead? Really?"

The Warden had been studying his reaction. "You didn't know it was coming." He observed. It wasn't a question. "I had thought that might be why you wanted out; before you got caught in the fight for Top Dog in here. In fact, a few of the worst might think you quit his group to set yourself up as his replacement."

"I had no idea." Grant admitted. "He wasn't young, but…"

"I know." The Warden bit his lip. "Alright, I've decided. You can have your Baptism in here. I'm sorry you couldn't get a furlough for your Convention."

Biggs froze. He couldn't recall a single occasion when the Warden had apologized to anyone in a prison jumpsuit. "You've already heard, haven't you?" He suddenly realized. "They're rejecting my parole."

The Warden regarded him, and nodded. "A lot of the time, they've made up their mind before they ever walk into the room." He took a breath. "I'll call your sister myself, and tell her that she's cleared to bring whatever Voodoo Chieftain you need for this." He gestured at Colgan. "Take him back to his cell."

Jehovah God, Biggs prayed on the way. I am a dead man. Grant's last order was that I stood alone. With him dead, the battle to take his place will be fierce; and I cannot fight back anymore. Thanks to you, I am a pacifist; and the men who seek to remove their rivals won't have any doubts about kicking a man who won't kick first. If I can't get out on parole, I will not live out the week; and the Warden knows it. He's not offering my Baptism, he's allowing me last rites. The Enforcers will be ready to shiv anyone in the stir who worked for Grant.

Back in the cell, Garret was asleep. Biggs went back to the wall, and took down the poster, carving again.

Father, my study with Kit has changed this for me. I won't fight. Not ever again. As much as I would have liked to live forever, I know that's not the point… I'm not afraid of dying. Half the lifers here are praying for death. But I'm worried about Kit. She's always had feet of clay, and as much as I hope she's unbreakable with You, I dread the thought that losing me completely will drive her away from You as well.

Please, God: Be with my sister, when I'm gone.

~~/*\~~

"Welcome to the Morning Show. Today's top story, the Market has remained closed for its third straight day. Still no official word on why so many Religious Institutions closed their accounts all at once, but it's understood that all commercial interests, including Charitable Institutions and Public Tourist Attractions, have remained open. As yet, nobody seems to be losing their jobs; which went a long way towards reassuring investors, who were reportedly just waiting for a chance to sell. The market remains closed; and the Government has placed a freeze on all prices and wages. A measure expected to be matched by other markets around the world…"

~~/*\~~

"I'm sorry I couldn't get permission for you to attend." Biggs said quietly to his cellmate.

"For the best, anyway." Garret shook his head. "If it works for you, then congratulations; but… You know where I stand. Bible Bashers and I are not to be friends." Biggs could see him fighting the impulse to say what came next. "And frankly, I don't think it'll stick. So you get religion. You're still a convict. It's all anyone will ever see when they look at us. It's not going to get you outta here, so what's the point?"

"You know that's not how it works." Biggs said patiently. "I'm not saying I'm any better than anyone else in here."

"Your religion teaches that only the 'faithful' will make it. It's exactly what you're saying." Garret waved him off. A friend and cellmate of over ten years, Garret had dismissed him instantly.

"Y'know, I made the same case to my sister when she got involved with the JW's." Biggs offered with some nostalgia. "She showed me a Bible verse that quoted Jesus telling off his enemies. He said 'you know how to interpret the sky' or the weather, or something like that. If I had my Bible with me, I could show you. He said 'but the signs of the times, you cannot interpret'." Biggs shrugged. "I don't think I'm any better than you, brother. And a jury of our peers agreed."

Garret scoffed at that, despite himself.

"I just… I saw the sign. And not just the stuff like the stars in the sky, or the world in general. I saw it in the headlines, too." Biggs sighed hard. "I'm looking around at the world, and I think my sister's people are right about what's coming. I asked my sister about the preaching work, and she says that people don't think about God at all anymore. They're just too busy, too fed up, or like you, sick to death of hearing about it. The world keeps people busy; and we've got nothing but time in here. Time to think about questions like 'where did it all come from?'"

"And it hasn't gotten you out of this room." Garret said again. "So God did it. Or evolution. Or space lizards. Doesn't make any difference in real life." He lay back on his bunk and closed his eyes. "The Penguins back in my old reform school said 'the truth will set you free'. One day, you'll pray to God and ask Him nicely to swing that door open for you. If prayer can't open that door, why should I care?"

"Because some things should matter more than where we sit while we're marking time." Biggs countered.

Garrett scoffed. "Downstairs, there's a guy who smuggles drugs in for Mister Grant. He's Protestant. The next cell over? Grant's chief enforcer now that you've retired. Jewish. He's shivved eight guys who made trouble for the Man in the last two decades. Me? I was raised a Quaker. Never raised a fist to anyone. But the bank took our house. I made every effort to avoid hurting people when I stole a car for parts. It was to buy my niece medicine. But I was black, and poor; and that meant I was 'violently resisting arrest' when the cops broke four of my ribs getting me to trial; and I will never see my niece again." Garrett looked hard at him. "Now, if I was given Protestant burial rites, my God is angry. And if the Jewish Guy is given last rites by the Catholic prison Chaplain, his God is angry. And it's all a wash anyway, because it's all the same God; just prayed to using different words. And trying to get to some form of heaven? If they let lifelong criminals like us in through the Pearly Gates; then what's the point of being holy? And if they don't, then what's the point of any of it?"

"We've been locked in this room with each other for ten years, Garrett. It took me a few months to realize what I have learned about God. It took you thirty seconds to decide I'm an idiot, without ever having touched a Bible."

"Saves time." Garret turned over on the cot, facing away from him.

"What? You're in a hurry? Got another life sentence to go to?"

Garret was about to respond when the door swung open. "It's time."

Biggs sent one last look to Garrett. "I'm ready."

~~/*\~~

"Our Top Story tonight, several of the most prestigious banks in Switzerland have announced that they will not accept money transfers from the Council of Churches; instead offering details on the source accounts. For more on this, our financial expert; Professor Nicholas Fawcett. Nick?"

"It's downright unprecedented for a Swiss Bank to even name a client, let alone publicly refuse their business. This isn't a Swiss Bank defying their nature… It's all of them doing so at once. That alone would be enough to collapse a few nations; given who else is likely hiding their money there."

"Any word on why they would make such an unprecedented move?"

"There are a lot of unprecedented moves being made this week, but there are unconfirmed reports that most of the major Religions have received notice that an instruction will be delivered to them in a few days. Closed Door meetings have been taking place discussing the matter before it's announced."

"Do we know what that 'Instruction' is?"

"Nobody's even hinting; but it has to be something unusual. Taxation, legal definition, legal protection… The Churches have laws dedicated to their protection, and they are kept purposely vague. They have to. One man's gospel is another man's blasphemy. To say nothing of the fact that such laws change from nation to nation. The Churches predate all existing governments and borders. Most of them by centuries. I don't know what kind of government order could have them spooked enough to make an international move with their holdings; but if Switzerland wants no part of it…"

"A few days, you said? I guess we'll find out."

"More likely, it'll all fizzle out. I've seen plenty of people try to change the Churches. They've all been long forgotten. Religions think in terms of centuries, and politicians and bankers think in terms of days. The Churches have gotten a lot of bad press the last few… decades, but they still make or break elections in a lot of countries. Nobody's going to really cross them. It'd be suicide. And for it to have any weight, it'd have to be across the board, internationally. Name one time that's ever happened."

"So you think this is a financial measure, with no real difference to be made?"

"That's my professional opinion, yes."

"Professor Fawcett, thank you for your time. In other news, the 'Secure In Peace' Campaign has been declared a success-"

~~/*\~~

Kit got the call; and sent Benedict a text. She didn't mention the news until they were alone together at the Prison, waiting for her brother to be escorted in.

"I sent you a text, because I wasn't able to get you on the phone." Kit said finally. "In fact, I'm a little amazed it hasn't been ringing off the hook the entire time we've been sitting here."

"Switched it off. This deserves my full attention." Benedict promised. "You were calling about the news; I take it?"

Kit asked the question she'd been screaming in her head. "Is this it?"

"When it happens, you won't need to ask. If the Churches are hiding their money, it'll make no difference in the long term. Or the short term, if this is it. But if they're reacting to something… Let us say only that we've been told to 'keep watching' until we know what we're looking at."

"How is that different from any other day?" Kit murmured cynically. "I know you've been waiting for this your whole life, brother. I don't get to ask for your time and attention; and I don't get to rush anyone. I've only been with you for a year."

"Y'know, that's an argument that doesn't matter much anymore. You've been a Sister for a year, in the most difficult, frustrating, agonizing time to believe in anything. The world changes shape so fast now. You became a believer at the same time violence against Religious buildings hit an all-time high."

"Against religious organizations, political rallies, against journalists, against insurance headquarters, against-"

The door opened, cutting them off. Biggs came in, escorted by two guards. He was wearing arm and leg restraints, which were removed. Kit made introductions. "Biggs, I believe you know Broth-WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?" She had come over and suddenly seen the bruises. "Are you okay?!"

"I've had worse." Biggs said roughly, waving it off as he looked to the tub. "Looks like a coffin."

"It does. But it's large enough for immersion, and it's watertight." Benedict told him. If he was concerned about Biggs' injuries, he didn't show it. "Some conventions in Africa hold baptism ceremonies in barrels. They climb in and crouch enough to go under. I've seen remote areas in Alaska that do this in open water; no matter than it's almost freezing temperature."

Biggs nodded. "Still looks like a coffin."

"The only coffin that brings you life." His sister said quietly, giving him a tight hug. "What's wrong? There's something else, isn't there?" She asked, feeling the tension in his frame. The answer hit her as soon as she said it. "They denied your parole."

"That's what I hear. It won't be official until I meet with them tomorrow afternoon." He bit his lip. "It was always a long shot. I only have another two years on my sentence; and I'm hardly the only one to insist I'm a 'changed man'. Getting religion isn't as good a reason as it used to be. I'm sorry, Kit. I know you went to a lot of work, and I know you were looking forward to having me home."

Kit looked crushed. "They haven't even had the hearing yet!"

"They see way more people than they have time for. They rubberstamp a lot of things." Biggs said. "I… I'm trying really hard to be forgiving and Christian about it, but they took my Bible too, and…"

"That too? How can they do that?" Benedict asked sharply.

"They did it with everyone. All the cells." Biggs told him. "Time was, they thought it was appropriate to give the Prisoners a book of morals. All the family groups that insisted on it? They've now decided being Right and being Religious are not the same thing."

"Tell me about it." Benedict said under his breath. "But in the meantime, does that change your plans for today at all?"

Biggs blinked. "Why would it?"

Behind him, unnoticed, the guards gave each other a look at his reaction.

Benedict smiled, pleased. "Then let's begin."

~~/*\~~

"...upgraded to Category Five. So far, there are no reports of any casualties, but damage reports are already coming in. For more on this, our weather correspondent. Lissa?"

"As you can see behind me, the hurricane has wiped out the entire cargo fleet. No lives were lost; but the damage is far more concerning. This is one of the major distribution centres for food and bottled water. Every supermarket for a thousand miles is going to be affected by the storm damage. The National Guard has already been summoned, to try and salvage the vital supplies held at the Hub."

"This marks the fourth Category Five hurricane recorded in the last three months. FEMA has reported that their budget is long since maxed out; and are petitioning the Government for more resources. But even if they get everything they ask for, it may be too late. People fleeing the current storm system will feel the pinch first; as the relief centres also depended on supplies from…"

~~/*\~~

Benedict, it turned out, was due to give the Baptism talk at the delayed Convention.

"Baptism isn't about becoming 'better' than anyone else." Benedict said seriously. "Neither is being a Witness, come to that. We know this because Jesus Christ himself was baptized. He had no sins to atone for. But he was a free agent. He could have done what he wanted with his life. When we read about him in the Bible, it's hard to picture Jesus doing anything else; but that choice was still his own."

It was an odd opening, and Biggs wondered how much his sister had told her Congregation Elder.

"In 1st Peter 3, The Apostle Paul compared a Christian getting Baptized to Noah building the Ark." Benedict continued. "It's not a bad comparison. Noah's work on the Ark took many years. It was a visible, concrete sign that he was doing as Jehovah told him to do. The only people who helped him were his immediate family; and they were the only ones to be offered a seat. Everyone laughed, but they couldn't deny he was working his hardest at it. The Ark coming together was a sign of his dedication."

"And they only laughed until the rains came." Kit put in, and then put a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. Forgot this wasn't a study for a moment."

Benedict chuckled. "Baptism is a promise. It's a promise to God, and to the people around you. To God, you are promising that you work for Him from now on; not out of fear, but because you know that He's the best possible person to be in charge. To the people around you, it's a pledge that from now on, they know what they get with you. That this is your new personality, not just an act you put on; and you vow never to let life break it down."

Amen to that. Biggs thought. "I'm scared I may not be equal to the task. At least, not all the time."

"We all feel that way, Biggs. People who were raised as Witnesses have that fear." Benedict said honestly. "Becoming a Witness is not a pledge to never make a mistake. Or even a lot of mistakes. Nobody can promise perfection. But that doesn't mean you're wrong to do it. If you pledge to drive a car to a specific destination; have you failed to keep that promise when you take a wrong turn along the way? Or multiple wrong turns, come to that?"

"No, I guess not." Biggs agreed. "Plus… I figure God knows what he's getting when he gets me, right?"

"Right." Benedict chuckled. "I'm reminded of something Jesus once said, when describing his coming Kingdom. He compared it to a man throwing a great feast, and all his friends were invited. Except all his friends made excuses; so the man sent his people out to find others. The invitation went out to the blind, the poor, the lame; the crippled… Biggs, people like us do our best work in prisons and hospitals. The people we turn to are the ones in need. Jesus gained his followers from among fishermen and beggars and lepers; while the 'holy men' and 'honored teachers' wanted him dead."

Biggs nodded. "So, there may yet be hope for me."

"For all of us. Not just people with a record. People judge themselves as 'good' or 'bad' by comparing to the people around them. Do any of us compare to God?" Benedict pointed out. "Some people think that God is keeping score. Psalm 103 says 'For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so great is his loyal love toward those who fear him. As far off as the sunrise is from the sunset, so far off from us he has put our transgressions. As a father shows mercy to his sons, Jehovah has shown mercy to those who fear him. For he well knows how we are formed, remembering that we are dust'." Benedict smiled. "God knows what he's getting with all of us."

Biggs pulled his head in. His whole life he'd had to be harder than nails. Warmth wasn't something he was accustomed to. "Well, that's good to know, but let's not pretend my 'status' doesn't make a difference."

"On the contrary, your status has been in many prayers of late." Benedict nodded. "Kit has been asking the Elders to pray for this moment for half a year now. You've been able to justify the faith of others already. And that's more than a lot of the world could do back in the presence of Jesus himself."

There was a moment of warm silence. Benedict led them in prayer, but Biggs barely listened, praying one of his own. Jehovah God, I've sworn blood oaths before. Swearing one to you will break the others. I know that's how it's meant to go, vowing to leave the service of the world in your favor. Just… I know that my service probably won't include writing Bible books or some of the things your people have done in Prison cells. In fact, we're doing this here because I may never leave this cage. But whatever it is you see when you look at me; I'm grateful for your forgiveness; and I'll do whatever I can to pay you back.

~~/*\~~

"I'd love to take you out for a big celebratory dinner, or something." Kit said in his ear once the baptism was done; and Biggs had changed into dry clothes. "But I think your guards would frown on you leaving just for that."

"Save them up, sis. We'll have dinner together forever, one day."

"One day soon." Kit promised. Maybe sooner than we think.

~~/*\~~

Kit was halfway home when she noticed the time. JW Broadcasting put up their monthly broadcast at this time every month. She didn't have an internet connection, but there was a young man in the congregation that provided copies to all the people in the Congregation; and her train was going to take her past his place soon; so she pulled out her phone. "Andrew? Can I pick up the monthly Broadcast a little earlier this week? Like, today?"

"Actually, something interesting on that. The Broadcast didn't go up this month."

Kit paused. "Really? That's a first. I have to admit I'm… Is 'scared' a bad thing to be feeling right now?"

"A question I've been asking and hearing all day." Andrew admitted.

~~/*\~~

Biggs was brought into the Hearing Room; and was surprised to see people watching. Usually, these Parole meetings were private, or only had family members and victims in attendance. For one or two genuinely bad people, the cops that arrested them would make a point of being there.

Which is why the Parole Board was stunned, and so was Biggs, to see almost a dozen people crammed into the viewing area; and his Sister was in the front row with a big smile. Biggs went over as soon as his hands were free and hugged her. "I told you it was a miss. There's no reason to be here."

"You're still here." She reminded him. "As long as you're here, I am. And so are they."

"Who are these people?" Biggs asked quietly.

"They're from our congregation." Kit told him. "They heard that the Hearing had already made up its mind. One of their brothers was needing some moral support; and they came."

Biggs looked around the room. Rule Number One for a Prisoner is that you ceased to exist to people Outside. There were all sorts of nightmares going on that the public never wanted to know about. Having support from people he'd never met before was something new; and it was on the verge of making him tear up.

For the most part, Biggs wasn't necessary. They read excerpts from the reports of his arrest, and his Prison Record. This part made him nervous in front of others. He had a long history of getting into fights.

Then the Committee went into more recent developments, helping with Bible studies; leaving the employ of Grant, and a few testimonials from people who knew him, pledging he was a changed man.

Hearing the Testimony made Biggs feel better. He knew the matter was a foregone conclusion, but it was gratifying to know that the efforts he's made since getting The Truth hadn't gone unnoticed.

After that came the interview portion. Biggs was praying with his eyes open during every answer. The interviews weren't worth much. The Committee knew that every Prisoner spent their entire sentence rehearsing for this one conversation.

But quite suddenly, it was over.

The three committee members conferred amongst themselves, leaving those assembled behind Biggs' seat to wait for them. Benedict nudged Kit. "Who is that?" He asked her quietly, tilting his chin towards an old man in the back of the room. He hadn't taken his eyes off Biggs once; and his expression was unreadable.

Kit didn't even have to look. "That's Meredith Grovin. His son's were the ones… the people who…" She shook her head. "Biggs is a violent offender. He was robbing someone who could afford to lose stuff, and his sons were home. They walked in on him while he was robbing the place, and Biggs threw the first punch." She looked old suddenly. "The older brother died fast. The youngest is still in palliative care."

Benedict was surprised. "After this long?"

"Grovin can afford it." Kit nodded. "You think he'd still be in jail if he robbed someone without money?"

It wasn't any kind of justification, and Benedict was almost sure she knew it; but at that moment the committee turned back to the room and rendered their verdict. "Parole is hereby granted."

Biggs froze, unable to process that. Behind him, there was a murmur. "I-I'm sorry?"

"Parole is granted." The man said again. "In view of your efforts, and with the testimony given at this hearing, we feel that time served is sufficient. You will be freed tonight. Return to your cell; and someone will be by shortly to advise you of your responsibilities and duties once you leave. Congratulations."

Biggs turned, mostly in shock. The Warden didn't meet his gaze, but Biggs noticed him carefully looking at the others who were there to observe.

Kit broke the stunned silence by lurching forward with a cry, hugging her brother tightly.

~~/*\~~

Most of the group went home, but Kit stayed behind to wait for her brother to be released. It would take a while to process; but she was his ride; and there was no point going home just to come back a few hours later.

"Andrew?" She called after one of them. "Benedict flew right outta here as soon as the hearing was over. Anything wrong?"

"He asked me to give his apologies. Something called him away."

Kit shivered. "Something's coming."

Then the doors opened, and Biggs walked out, wearing clothes that were faded, and ten years out of date, and walked over to them. "I asked the guy who signed me out. Apparently they're Paroling a lot of people they didn't plan to. This morning, they got an instruction to make room. This hellhole is overcrowded at the best of times, but they've suddenly decided it's very important to have free cells."

"This morning?" Kit repeated, feeling a thrill go through her. "Ohh, it's coming."

Andrew swatted her lightly. "What she means by that, of course; is that she's thrilled to know her big brother's coming home."

"Home." Biggs chuckled, turning his face to the sky. "Right."

~~/*\~~

"He means well." Kit told her brother as they arrived back at her Apartment. "Andrew grew up in the same house, couldn't afford to move out. Lived there until he was thirty, and his parents still have it. Home is a pretty clear picture for him." She gestured around as she unlocked the door. "This is the latest humble hovel."

Biggs looked around as she re-locked the door behind them, and then drew three chains that she had added herself. The rooms weren't much bigger than his cell; though the furniture was more comfortable. On the counter he saw two oven trays, covered with dishcloths. It was a very old memory of food. "Homemade pizza?"

"Haven't made them for a while; but I got all your favorite toppings; just in case." His sister admitted with a smile. "And the hot water actually works, for the first time in any place I've lived. You want a shower first, or dinner? I can bake them while you wash."

Biggs was shaken. "A shower? Really?"

"All to yourself." She nodded, giving him a watery smile. "There's a lock on the door and everything."

"Paradise." Biggs summed up with an ironic smile.

~~/*\~~

Kit heard the water running as she put put their dinner in the oven… and she couldn't help but cry. "He's home." She said softly to herself.

Jehovah God… She prayed. Thank you! Thank you so much! I remember the first night I realized that You were real. It scared me, because I wondered what that meant for him. I have prayed every day, every night for this.

He's home! He's out of that place, and he's part of your people now. He didn't get there alone; and I know I didn't either. Ever since I became a Believer, the message has been one reminder after another that time was short, and frankly I didn't think we'd get here in time. Thank you, Jehovah God. My brother is safe in your hands.

She was about to say 'amen', when her phone buzzed with a text. It was from Benedict, and it looked like a mass text to the whole group: Turn On The TV!!!!!

~~/*\~~

"...is now a matter of personal faith and private actions. As yet there has been no word on the legal ramifications. Experts have suggested that the order will be overturned by the Courts in most of the major national signatories; but even they admit with the sweeping powers granted under the FRA, the job may be done before the Courts can rule. For more on this, our foriegn correspondent, Lyta Daveed. Lyta?"

"We were expecting a pitched fight, but the Pope himself has already signed the Renouncement. He has decreed that 'God lives in everyone's heart, and that the Kingdom of God is in all men'. He signed an official Papal Decree today, ordering that all Clergy in the Catholic Church are to sign the Renouncement, and reorganize the Church into a charitable, and social organization."

"With all their money seized, that won't be so easy."

"Apparently the deal was made this morning. Enough of their financial holdings will be returned, under careful government supervision. They run the books; and in return the Clergy become regular charity staff."

"Is that all it takes? Promising their continued paycheck?"

"The mood here at Vatican City is one of relief, to be perfectly honest. The Church fears scandals the way the rest of us fear death. Changing from a Church to an International Charity means that Priests can marry, can have children, can face charges for their concealed crimes… The Renouncement is carefully worded to that effect. It doesn't demand renouncing your belief in a Creator, or in your intention to continue living according to whatever beliefs you have. All it does is dissolve the right to organize; or to advertise your personal beliefs publicly."

"Has everyone signed?"

"About ten percent have gone public with their refusal. They're calling on supporters to close the borders to Vatican City; a sovereign state of its own. The college of Cardinals are having closed door meetings. We don't know what they'll do. Only how it will turn out if they refuse."

"Well they'd better decide fast. The Final Revelation Act only gives a four week grace period for all citizens to sign the Renouncement."

"The consensus is that everyone was waiting for someone else to speak first. It's causing financial and social upheaval here; but there are plenty of places in the world where the Religion and the Government were the same thing. I don't know what will happen there; but with the Swiss making their position clear; they'll have to do it without their money."

~~/*\~~

Biggs had rejoined her by the time they repeated the bulletin. He knew what it meant as well as she did; and his hands were shaking. "And I thought getting out of Jail was going to be the biggest shocker today."

"This is it." Kit breathed. "This is really it."

***

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