“Then I won’t be going?” said Becka, dismayed.
“You will go later,” said Aunt Lydia.
I suspected it was a lie, even then.
XXI
Fast and Thick
The Ardua Hall Holograph
59
I’d thought I had everything in order, but the best-laid plans gang aft agley, and trouble comes in threes. I write this in haste at the end of a very trying day. My office might as well have been Grand Central—before that venerable edifice was reduced to rubble during the War of Manhattan—so heavy was the foot traffic through it.
The first to make an appearance was Aunt Vidala, who turned up right after breakfast. Vidala and undigested porridge are a taxing combination: I vowed to imbibe some mint tea as soon as I might arrange it.
“Aunt Lydia, there is a matter to which I wish to draw your urgent attention,” she said.
I sighed inwardly. “Of course, Aunt Vidala. Do sit down.”
“I won’t take much of your time,” she said, settling herself in the chair in preparation for doing just that. “It’s about Aunt Victoria.”
“Yes? She and Aunt Immortelle are soon to set off on their Pearl Girls mission to Canada.”
“That is what I wish to consult you about. Are you sure they are ready for it? They are young for their ages—even more so than the other Supplicants of their generation. Neither of them have had any experience of the wider world, but some of the others have at least firmness of character that is lacking in these two. They are, you might say, malleable; they will be overly susceptible to the material temptations on offer in Canada. Also, in my opinion, Aunt Victoria is a defection risk. She has been reading some questionable material.”
“I trust you are not calling the Bible questionable,” I said.
“Certainly not. The material to which I refer is her own Bloodlines file from the Genealogical Archives. It will give her dangerous ideas.”
“She does not have access to the Bloodlines Genealogical Archives,” I said.
“Someone must have obtained the file for her. I happen to have seen it on her desk.”
“Who would have done that without my authorization?” I said. “I must make inquiries; I cannot have insubordination. But I am sure Aunt Victoria is, by now, resistant to dangerous ideas. Despite your opinion of her juvenility, I believe she has achieved an admirable maturity and strength of mind.”
“A thin facade,” said Vidala. “Her theology is very shaky. Her notion of prayer is fatuous. She was frivolous as a child and recalcitrant when it came to her school duties, especially the handicrafts. Also, her mother was—”
“I know who her mother was,” I said. “The same can be said of many of our most respected younger Wives, who are the biological progeny of Handmaids. But degeneracy of that sort is not necessarily inherited. Her adoptive mother was a model of rectitude and patient suffering.”
“That is true as concerns Tabitha,” said Aunt Vidala. “But, as we know, Aunt Victoria’s original mother is a particularly flagrant case. Not only did she disregard her duty, abandon her appointed post, and defy those set in Divine Authority over her, but she was the prime mover in the stealing of Baby Nicole from Gilead.”
“Ancient history, Vidala,” I said. “It is our mission to redeem, not to condemn on purely contingent grounds.”
“Certainly, as regards Victoria; but that mother of hers ought to be cut into twelve pieces.”
“No doubt,” I said.
“There is a credible rumour that she’s working with Mayday Intelligence, in Canada, on top of her other treasons.”
“We win some, we lose some,” I said.
“That is an odd way of putting it,” said Aunt Vidala. “It is not a sport.”
“It is kind of you to offer me your observations on acceptable speech,” I said. “As for your insights on Aunt Victoria, the proof will be in the pudding. I am sure she will complete her Pearl Girls assignment most satisfactorily.”
“We shall see,” said Aunt Vidala with a half-smile. “But if she defects, kindly remember that I warned you.”