The Good Slave Read Free Page A

the end Josef Messinjure was just another obedient lapdog blinded into thinking he was something more by his own ego, which had been ceaselessly stroked by gushing toadies both within the party and without for too many years.   The arrest of his son on trumped-up charges of homosexuality was meant not to simply embarrass the televangelist, but to break him and shut him up for good, and it worked.   But still, an example had to be set.
    He had not mentioned Stephen’s name when publicly declaring the error of his ways, hopeful that the party would quietly release his son and pretend the whole affair had never happened.   But it was an infantile fantasy.   The Rev. Messinjure immediately returned to his Bible-thumping indignation, but the Church-State only allowed him on the air long enough to publicly reaffirm his loyalty to the POG—the one true party of God—the only party the country needed.   Then they pulled the plug under the authority of the Anti-Sedition Act of 2029, and in the blink of TV screen Josef Messinjure was gone.   The next time the public only saw him he was on the news entering the courthouse at his heretical son’s trial, then exiting, then going back the next day, then leaving, day after day, week after week.
    The little slave couldn’t understand why the media said his master was “lying low” and “plotting his next move against the Church-State.”   Master Josef had already said that he believed the government’s case against his son was just and the trial fair, but he also asserted Stephen’s innocence and would be proven so in the courtroom.
    “Justice is paramount to the Church-State’s interest, which is why we have trials in the first place,” Rev. Messinjure had told the passel of pseudo journalists that hanging outside the courthouse every day.   “Not all accused heretics turn out to be heretical, and not all accused blasphemers have blasphemed.   People are falsely accused throughout history and our wonderful system of justice roots out the truth.   I am confident that the truth of my son’s innocence will likewise be proven beyond any reasonable doubt.”
    But before long something changed.
    Shortly after the trial began the reporters started ignoring him when he arrived for his son’s trial.   He might as well have been a janitor coming to work.   No one raised a camera lens to take his picture or shoot video for the TV and internet news.   As the trial progressed both Josef Messinjure and his attorney had statements they wanted to make, but they had to almost cajole some reporters into scribbling down a few notes, none of which ever went beyond the courthouse steps.
    All of the former televangelist’s calls to the news media went unanswered.   They promised to get back to him, but they never did.   Even EBN, the Evangelical Broadcasting Network, which had broadcast Walking With Jesus for so long, turned its back on him.   Despite their sudden apathy, headlines began to appear proclaiming DISGRACED TELEVANGELIST REMAINS MUM ON HOMO SON!
    Soon the beleaguered minister gave up trying to have his voice heard and simply trudged his way past the reporters, completely ignored just like any ordinary Chuck Schmuck.

Chapter Four

    Behold the Attestant

    Phoebus’ face was pointed at the floor, but his eyes were aching with the strain of trying to look up at the front of the courtroom without lifting his head.   The D.A. lazily scrolled through text messages.   The little slave hated that scumbag.   He hated the way he was always twisting witnesses’ words to make them sound like liars.   Isn’t that ... Phoebus searched for the right word.   Tricky sneakiness?   Or sneaky trickiness?   Or is it trickery?   Yes, that’s the right word!   Trickery!   Isn’t that trickery?   And isn’t trickery a sin?
    “Admit it, you filthy little imp!” the D.A. had yelled during Phoebus’ own testimony.   “You and your master’s son had unnatural sexual