“Come in, Mr. Barrock.”
Glen’s morning boy came in with a quiet dignity that seemed mature for nineteen. “Thank you, sir.”
Glen sighed. “Look. I know that calling me sir has got to sound as eff’d to you as it does to me. So let’s make a deal. If I should be cursed by ending up riding this desk in Excel hell permanently, gods forbid, then you’ll have to call me sir. Till then, Glen is good by me. Deal?”
The other boy grinned. “Sure.”
“So what’s going on?”
“Two for A.A., si...” He cut off the last consonant and smiled.
“What’s A.A., Barrock?”
“Sovereign Nemamiah’s code for discipline. It stands for attitude adjustment. He says consequences are the bedrock of civilization.”
The big burgundy tufted leather chair creaked when Glen leaned back, the corners of his mouth curving with amusement. “Does he? And what does discipline usually entail?”
“Well, he’s old school about some things, but he doesn’t believe in corporal punishment, something about knights not hitting other knights, even knights-to-be. Actually, there’s kind of an ingenious creativity to his approach that scares the guys more than knowing what’s coming.”
“Scared of the unknown. I can see that. So give me some examples. I need a feel for comparison’s sake, action and reaction.”
“Um. Okay. Let’s see.
“Eidelman pretended to stumble into one of the nurses so he could grab a feel. Sol made him cross-dress for a day, complete with wig, makeup, and falsies.” Barrock leveled a look and gestured with his hands in front of his chest. “Big ones.” Glen snorted while he tapped a pencil. He didn’t actually use pencils, but he liked having something to do with his hands. “The guys had a field day with telling him how cute and sexy he was. And, really, between you and me, he kind of was. That’s why some of the guys call him Queenie Eidelman.”
Glen nodded, clearly enjoying this. “So it’s the punishment that never stops giving.” Barrock nodded. “What else?”
“Another time, somebody made fun of Crisp when he was close enough to overhear. Called him a fag. I heard what Crisp said when he came down here and talked to Sol. He said he didn’t like tattling, but that part of his job was to assist in making sure the young twigs were bent in the right direction.”
Glen barked out a laugh. “He did not say that!”
Barrock’s ears turned red when he grinned. “Yeah. He did, but he didn’t give any indication that he realized….”
“Got it. Sorry to interrupt. Go on with your story.”
“Um, oh yeah, he was saying that it wasn’t the principle, but the pejorative, that a knight could be a person of character and call him g*y, but the prejudice implied by the term ‘fag’ was beneath Black Swan ideals.
“The Sovereign agreed. He sent me to the library to find a book and bring it back. Then he had me go get Wakey, um, Mr. Wakenmann – and he’s one of the two who are outside waiting right now –he had me go get him out of class and bring him to the office. He told Wakey that his behavior was unbecoming of a knight in training and that it would require restitution.
“Wakey said, ‘You want me to pay Crisp off?’ The Sovereign said, ‘No. You can’t buy your way out of dishonor. Restitution has to be made in deeds, not currency. Then he gave Wakey the book, which was Love Sonnets, and a little spiral notebook.
“He said Wakey had twenty four hours to complete the task and return with both items. The spiral notebook needed to have the names of twelve different poems from the book and each one had to have the signature of one of his peers. They had to confirm with their signatures that he’d read them the poem, slowly and with feeling. The Sovereign emphasized that last part.
“After coming back here for approval, he had to take the book and the notebook to Crisp and apologize, saying that, ‘Love must be respected in all its forms. That is a creed worthy of a knight. Difference must be respected when it harms none. That is a principle worthy of a gentleman.’
“The Sovereign made him memorize that last part.”
Glen sat back in his chair tapping the pencil on his thigh. “Sounds like it made an impression on you as well.” Barrock said nothing. He just nodded. “So what have Wakey and…” Glen looked around Barrock like he could see through the door. “Who else is out there?”
“Kristoph Falcon.”
“Hmm. Of what are they accused?”
Barrock smiled at the formality of the question. “Away from quarters after hours. Away from quarters without permission. Misuse of Order equipment and personnel…”
“English.”
“They snuck out last night. Stowed away on a Whister. Got nabbed on a Manhattan roof pad and were brought back here.”