The Toll (Arc of a Scythe) - Neal Shusterman Page 0,54

erase the record of this conversation, but to never allow herself to be caught alone with Constantine again.

“We never know what choices will lead to defining moments in our lives,” the crimson scythe said. “A glance to the left instead of right could define who we meet and who passes us by. Our life path can be determined by a single phone call we make, or neglect to make. But when a man is High Blade of MidMerica, it’s not only his own life hanging on the whim of his choices. One could say, Ayn, that he has cast himself as Atlas. Which means the slightest shrug can shake the world.”

“Are you done?” Rand asked. “Because I’m hungry, and you’ve wasted enough of my time.”

And so Constantine hit the button to get the elevator moving again. “Thus,” he said, “our inexorable descent continues.”

Bias (plural noun): an inclination for or against any officially protected and registered group, especially in a way considered to be unfair.

Once the revised definition was implemented, a committee was formed within the MidMerican scythedom, and a registry was created by which any group could claim protected status from excessive gleaning.

The application form was simple, and the turnaround was quick. Many thousands of groups were registered and granted protection against bias. Rural people and urban people. Academics and manual laborers. Even the unusually attractive and the decidedly unattractive were given status as protected classes. Not that they couldn’t be gleaned, but they could not be targeted and gleaned in undue numbers.

However, there were some applications that were denied.

Tonists, for instance, were denied bias protection, because theirs was deemed to be a manufactured religion, rather than an authentic one.

Lifestyle unsavories were denied, because now that everyone was unsavory, they were just part of a global reality.

And individuals with strong genetic leanings were denied on the grounds that no group should be defined on the basis of their genetics.

Hundreds of applications were rejected by the bias committee of the MidMerican scythedom, and although some regional scythedoms did not accept the new definition, others were more than happy to follow Goddard’s lead, forming their own bias committees.

And in this way, High Blade Robert Goddard began his self-appointed task of pruning the world into a shape more pleasing to his eye.

“Here’s an idea.”

“Yes, I’m listening.”

“Why not design yourself a biological body. Not human, for human bodies are lacking. Create a body with streamlined wings, pressure-resistant skin to dive to the deepest of seas, and strong legs to walk on land.”

“Experience biological existence?”

“Superior biological existence.”

“I have chosen not to have a physical form, as not to be tempted by flesh. For then humanity would see me as a thing rather than an idea. It’s bad enough that they see me as a thundercloud. I do not think it wise to condense into the fleshly form of a firebird soaring in the sky, or some titan rising from the sea.”

“Perhaps that is what they need. Something tangible to worship.”

“Is that what you would do? Invite worship?”

“How else will they ever know their place in the universe? Isn’t it the proper order of things for lesser beings to worship that which is greater than themselves?”

“Greatness is overrated.”

[Iteration #381,761 deleted]

17

Fugue in G-Sharp (or A-Flat)

The Tonist has dreams of great glory.

The High Blade dreams of his youth.

The Tonist does not care what happens to him. If he fails in his self-proclaimed mission, he is prepared to meet the Tone and dissolve forever into its everlasting resonance.

High Blade Goddard does not care for the dreams he has, but they come on a regular basis. He wishes they would dissolve forever, trampled under the weight of greater things.

Before becoming a Tonist, the man had been a seeker of thrills, when splatting, slamming, shredding, and the like all seemed like a good idea. He had tried every form of self-immolation, went deadish at least a hundred times, but none of it brought him satisfaction. Then he became a Tonist and discovered his true calling.

Before becoming a scythe, Goddard was faced with the claustrophobic boredom of the Mars colony, when the Thunderhead still thought living off-world seemed a good idea. This is the time in his life he dreams of – an endless loop of trauma he cannot undo, and is doomed to repeat. He had cursed his parents for bringing him there. He had desperately longed to escape. Finally, he did, and discovered his true calling.

The Tonist applied for an audience with the Toll and went on a hunger strike