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Yesterday a judge in the European Court of Human Rights refused to hear a charge
of rape brought by an android woman against her human supervisor. Her alleged
assailant has been suspended on full pay by his employers, United Chemicals, Ltd,
while they consider taking proceedings against him for criminal damage. The
android, which was not available for comment, is said to be incapable of carrying
out its assigned tasks, and may have to be reintegrated.
* * *
Francis Taverner finished clearing out the drawers of his desk in the priest’s vestry
and looked at the few possessions scattered on the desktop. A Bible and a prayer
book. Notepad and pen. Half a tube of cough sweets. One glove he thought he had
lost. He was still standing there when the door to the vestry opened.
Gillian came in, the android girl he had married to her human lover on that first
night. She smiled at him, and held up a bundle of cleaning rags.
“I’ve been polishing the eagle, Father, but I’ve finished now if you want to lock up.”
Francis nodded. Gillian put her cleaning materials away and then turned back,
frowning a little at his silence. “Is anything the matter, Father?”
“I—I’ve . . .” Francis’ voice failed. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’ve been
suspended, Gillian. I’ve got to leave.”
She stood rigid, her face white. “Because of us.”
“Yes.” As she took a step towards him, he flung up a hand. “Don’t blame yourself.
The Bishop gave me every opportunity to wriggle out of trouble, but I didn’t take it,
so I’ve got to go. They’ll send someone to fill in until you find a new priest.”
“He won’t be you, Father. He won’t let us come in.”
Francis shook his head slowly. “No one can stop you coming to church, but he won’t
give you the Sacrament.”
He could not face her stillness and her bewilderment; averting his face, he began
turning over the small collection of objects on the desk.
After a moment, Gillian asked, “Where will you go, Father?”
“Oh, not far. I’ve found a room. It’ll do until I decide what to do next.”
The silence continued until he had to look at her again. Her distress had faded. She
was half-smiling, and her hands were clasped protectively at her waist. “I’m
expecting a baby, Father.”
The shabby little vestry was suddenly luminous with her happiness and the warmth
she held out to him.
“Gillian, that’s wonderful. I’m so glad.”
“I was thinking, Father—about the baptism . . .”
He was about to protest, when she held out her hands to him, unconsciously
displaying to him the lettering of her android origin.
“Father, you’re still a priest.”
“Yes.” He had taken the notepad, and was scribbling on it rapidly.
“Yes, I’m still a priest, for the time being, anyway. Look, this is my new address.
Come and see me there. You, and anyone else who wants to come. You will, won’t
you?”
She took the scrap of paper from him. “Yes, Father, of course we will.”
“And—pray for me, Gillian. Please pray for me.”
Cherith Baldry © 2009
of rape brought by an android woman against her human supervisor. Her alleged
assailant has been suspended on full pay by his employers, United Chemicals, Ltd,
while they consider taking proceedings against him for criminal damage. The
android, which was not available for comment, is said to be incapable of carrying
out its assigned tasks, and may have to be reintegrated.
* * *
Francis Taverner finished clearing out the drawers of his desk in the priest’s vestry
and looked at the few possessions scattered on the desktop. A Bible and a prayer
book. Notepad and pen. Half a tube of cough sweets. One glove he thought he had
lost. He was still standing there when the door to the vestry opened.
Gillian came in, the android girl he had married to her human lover on that first
night. She smiled at him, and held up a bundle of cleaning rags.
“I’ve been polishing the eagle, Father, but I’ve finished now if you want to lock up.”
Francis nodded. Gillian put her cleaning materials away and then turned back,
frowning a little at his silence. “Is anything the matter, Father?”
“I—I’ve . . .” Francis’ voice failed. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’ve been
suspended, Gillian. I’ve got to leave.”
She stood rigid, her face white. “Because of us.”
“Yes.” As she took a step towards him, he flung up a hand. “Don’t blame yourself.
The Bishop gave me every opportunity to wriggle out of trouble, but I didn’t take it,
so I’ve got to go. They’ll send someone to fill in until you find a new priest.”
“He won’t be you, Father. He won’t let us come in.”
Francis shook his head slowly. “No one can stop you coming to church, but he won’t
give you the Sacrament.”
He could not face her stillness and her bewilderment; averting his face, he began
turning over the small collection of objects on the desk.
After a moment, Gillian asked, “Where will you go, Father?”
“Oh, not far. I’ve found a room. It’ll do until I decide what to do next.”
The silence continued until he had to look at her again. Her distress had faded. She
was half-smiling, and her hands were clasped protectively at her waist. “I’m
expecting a baby, Father.”
The shabby little vestry was suddenly luminous with her happiness and the warmth
she held out to him.
“Gillian, that’s wonderful. I’m so glad.”
“I was thinking, Father—about the baptism . . .”
He was about to protest, when she held out her hands to him, unconsciously
displaying to him the lettering of her android origin.
“Father, you’re still a priest.”
“Yes.” He had taken the notepad, and was scribbling on it rapidly.
“Yes, I’m still a priest, for the time being, anyway. Look, this is my new address.
Come and see me there. You, and anyone else who wants to come. You will, won’t
you?”
She took the scrap of paper from him. “Yes, Father, of course we will.”
“And—pray for me, Gillian. Please pray for me.”
Cherith Baldry © 2009
Excerpt From
"Comprehending it Not"
by Cherith Baldry
"Comprehending it Not"
by Cherith Baldry
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