Lily's conscience says no.
Her logic, though, begins churning with all the horrors she saw or heard while she was growing up in NYC--where her father learned to be a cop.... The "dirty beat," he called it. "Always full of scum," he said.
One dark evening coming home from the library, she encountered some of the scum he hated. They were like animals. Their faces even wore snarls and their eyes were like a starved and beaten dog's--deranged and dangerous. Clawing at each other for the food and drink they were stealing from an older homeless man who must have been lucky enough to receive something on the street. These two men saw her, with clean clothes and a nice backpack, and ended the homeless man's struggle with a rough blow to the head. They shoved dirty food into nasty mouths with disgusting hands. And pursued her.
Her heart beat. Twelve years isn't long enough to call a life. It can't end this way. She was terrified. Their longer legs didn't need to run to gain ground. Lily lengthened her strides, trying not to display how frightened her hurry was. Lincoln street. Three more streets til Dad's route. She prayed he was right on the corner where they met every Tuesday night. The men began talking to each other and she stole a glance backward. Her eyes met one set of theirs. Still deranged. More dangerous. One motioned to the other and their pace quickened to a jog. She ran. They were fast--a pace set to catch prey. She yelled, "Leave me alone!" One answered, "You're mine!" Overlapped by the other, "Why are you running, little girl?" They were catching up too quickly. One more street, she thought, but they were right on her tail. She screamed and pushed her legs to move faster. One cackled as he grabbed her backpack, pulling her down. The dirt was hard in her kneecaps and hands. One man pushed the other as they both tried to pull at her hair, her clothes, pushing her face to the ground and touching her legs through her jeans. Then a shot rang through the cold air.
Her father came fully around the corner as the one man fell to the ground, blood running from his chest. The other put his hands up and tried to back away as if innocent. He backed himself to a building and Lily's father smacked his head with the butt of his pistol. He, too, fell to the ground and was handcuffed. Lily got up from the dirty street, believing there was a God...
That memory, so strong with emotions, made her think the Rook could be right. And she had heard worse events. Children gunned down in kindergarten, elderly folk beaten and robbed, violent mobs trampling people while shopping on Black Friday. And the planet suffered, too--plants and animals going extinct for the sake of "modernization" or "civilization." Beautiful landscapes drilled to death for bits of precious minerals. Fossil fuels depleting while renewable sources are ignored and un-funded. Blasphemy, all of it! Even if she no longer believed there was a conscious Creator, she knew this is not how the world should be. Maybe the Rook, with all his artificial intelligence, had the right idea...
Lily felt guilt for her thoughts. She glanced at the group, hiding her true feelings under yet another mask. What if I join the Rook? Would the party betray her, try to kill her there and now, if she admitted this opinion? Or is the Rook wrong? Could the human race redeem itself in the face of destruction? But, the voice inside asked, more importantly than could--would it?
