“There has been a miracle,” Chiddy said, giving Benita a strange, almost doleful look.
“Oh?” she asked. “What miracle was that.”
“The Fresco changed, overnight.”
“That couldn’t be,” the president said. “It was dark when we went in last night, so we couldn’t really see the Fresco, but we were there the whole time and we didn’t see a miracle. When daylight came this morning, the Fresco was exactly as Glumshalak’s Compendium describes it, though far better done, of course. I’m afraid Glumshalak was no artist.”
“Canthorel spoke to you!”
The president said, “We saw a figure who resembled the Canthorel in the Fresco, though ai offered us no proof of identity. The figure said it had come to repeat aisos message to the Pistach people. Presumably Canthorel’s Fresco is as it is by the will of Aitun.”
“It could be any way at all by the will of Aitun,” snapped Chiddy. “Aitun lets everything happen that can happen! It is up to intelligence to select!”
“Well, then,” said the Big SA,”Something s elected it the way it is. Something that we know is very good because it chooses to avoid death and pain and horror and hurting creatures, which the false Fresco certainly would have caused. I can’t imagine Canthorel being on the side of predators eating humans, or eating Pistach, can you? On Earth we say, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“It wasn’t the way we remembered it from when T’Fees cleaned it,” mumbled Vess. “Benita and Chad were there, they know!”
“Well,” Benita said, with considerable hauteur, “what I remember most about the way it was before was that there was a tree in every panel, and there’s still a tree in every panel. And I saw the form of Canthorel in a burst of smoke and light saying the work was originally beautiful.”
“So I had always believed,” said Chiddy.
“Well, the one I saw when I was here before wasn’t all that beautiful, which means some evil-doer must have come along and painted over it. That was when Canthorel inspired Glumshalak to provide the Compendium in its place. And when Glumshalak’s efforts were thwarted by T’Fees, someone, and I’d like to believe it was Canthorel, put it back the way it was supposed to be.”
“The way it was at first?” said Chiddy, still sounding somewhat indignant.
“Well, Chiddy,” she said, “it certainly didn’t make sense the way it was when T’Fees cleaned it. Would you choose to put something like that on your walls to guide your people?”
Chiddy gestured, no.
“And it was badly painted, too,” said the president thoughtfully. “Chad took pictures of it, and it was quite dreadful. If I had been Canthorel, I’d have been as upset at the lack of artistry as at the misrepresentation of what I was teaching! We feel so fortunate that Canthorel came to set things right. Even T’Fees saw it happen!”
Chad voiced agreement, backed by all the little SAs.
“T’Fees did see it happen,” Chiddy agreed. “T’Fees just isn’t willing to believe any of his own eyes!”
The Big SA took this as a cue to speak at length on the subject of belief, quoting Scripture to the point, citing several of the Fresco panels as exemplary. Benita thought he should have been an actor instead of an SA, though maybe one had to be an actor to be a Big SA. In any case, Chiddy had to stand there listening out of Pistach politeness, until the president whispered in the SA’s ears, and he let Chiddy escape dazedly back down the exit ramp.
Benita watched Chiddy go. He seemed depressed. She felt a little sorry for him, the way she had felt sorry for the children, sometimes, when she had had to say “no playing until homework” or go “write your spelling words.” One had to do it, but one still regretted the sadness it caused. Of course later, at least in Angelica’s case, there had been the jubilation at getting an A, so it was all worth it. She wondered when Chiddy would realize he was getting an A.
He evidently passed along the comment that T’Fees had willfully chosen to restore an evil version of the Fresco, for a little later they saw T’Fees led by in shackles. Benita said she hoped they wouldn’t hurt him, and was assured they intended only to regress him to age twelve, select him as a quality improvement consultant, for which job they already knew he had skills, and provide him with rigorous training.