Montag had never been more content. He was now ruler over his own domain. The Caesar of the drums of his city that beats out rhythms to the functions of everyday life. What he decreed came to life countering what he condemned which lie as dead as the Cities of the last days. During those days, people were mirthful, but the total disregard for a higher intellectual left their psych a barren wasteland where the refuse of that day's entertainment laid their nest to influence their thoughtless actions. But no, thought Montag, today people were much happier indeed. They had the likes of Shakespearean behavior coupled with Mark Twain's understanding all doused with the emotions relating to Jane Austen and Brontean instigation. They had the power to reason and barter and debate based on sound influences. Influence that were right, thought Montag. Influences that improves society, thought Montag. Influences that won't cause unnecessary pain or distress, thought Montag. Yes, thought Montag, the citizens of his city must be much more content indeed.
“Governor Montag” spoke a city official disrupting his thoughts, “we have a defiant.”
“Is it not defiant of you, Black, to disrupt my hour of meditation”, countered Montag.
“Oh, I uh, was not aware, sir-”
“I'm sure you were not, otherwise you might not have subverted the one hour I set aside for my own thoughtful inclinations so candidly. Anyhow, under what suborder has this citizen been accused defiant?”
“Actually, he's been found guilty already. This is merely a sentencing hearing.”
Montag glared angrily at Black. Found guilty already? I am the ruler, he thought. How can one of my subjects possibly be judged guilty if I were not the one declaring that judgment.
“Under whose order has the citizen been found guilty?”
“Granger's sir.” answered Black nervously.
“Bring him to me and set this defiant away for a later time. And, please, Black, doing this in a timely manner would be very much appreciated.”
“Yes, sir”
As Black scurried away from the throne chamber with the defiant, Montag escaped once again to his thoughts. Once the city had been destroyed, he, Granger and the others, including Faber, had returned, setting up a new rulership under the laws and principles they had come to accept from extensive reading. But, how, he thoughtfully inquired, did Black survive? Of course, he remembered, though Black was still in the city when the bombs destroyed it he was in prison, thought Montag. The prisoners were underground which accounted for their survival. Also, he concluded, most the prisoners were imprisoned for possession of literature, which made them perfect citizens for the new city he and the other men were building. In time, they were joined byother survivors who looked to them as superiors. They had to find a way to govern their new-found citizens in a way that allowed them to express their free will. Thus, they unanimously determined that a way to do this would be if their citizens did what they also did. With equal opportunity in mind, they suggested their daily rituals to the people without reserve. In time, as the original men Montag built his new city with died off and others replaced them, those suggestions became requests and those requests, orders and those orders, in turn, became laws. Of the original group of men, only he and Granger still remained. Funny, he mused, they never did get around to building that mirror factory…
“You wanted to see me Governor” now interrupted Granger.
“No need for the formalities, Granger, I-”
“ Oh but, yes, Governor, the formalities are very much needed. You of course are supreme ruler, and as such, you deserve the proper approach that formality offers.”
Montag gazed fixedly at Granger in an effort to gauge with what sort of spirit Granger had made that statement. When the effort became futile, Montag shook his head and continued with the conversation.
“And as supreme ruler, I also suppose I do not get to finish my sentences, now do I?” Montag joked.
“The floor is yours.” Ganger smilingly replied.
“I called for you, Granger, because you, as you well know, convicted a defiant. I also assume you are well aware that is not is your role.”
“I didn't catch momentary amnesia, Montag, I know which assignments I have and which I don’t.”
“So what is your excuse?”
“I have no excuse, just a reason. The people are not happy Montag. They haven’t been for years. That man was an oppressor.”
“And how would you know?”
“Evidence, Montag. He was a fanatic. A school principal who demanded students do completely ridiculous stunts and actions based on Roman gladiators… the children were slaying each other Montag.”
Montag gulped “ And if the evidence was so strong, why didn't you just send him to me?”
“The people Montag” Granger emphasized “ they don’t trust you. What was it? A month ago that you let that thief go free?”
“He was not a thief,. Did you not read the report? He was ‘converting assets into gifts, not necessarily by voluntary means’ ” Montag replied citing the final case report.
“ He murdered one of his victims, Montag! And you called that self-defense. Robin Hood may be an extraordinary part of literature, but not ground for criminal acts!”
“If I may recall correctly, it was you who emphasized literature influencing our lives.”
“Yes, Montag, but that does not mean that everything any fabled character did in literature was right, especially now that we’re dealing with reality, Montag!”
Montag stared blankly at Granger, unable to formulate the plethora of thoughts in his consciousness into actual sentences. Moments passed.
“I have nothing more to say to you.” Montag finally replied. Granger peered at Montag as if he were searching through his innermost thoughts attempting to asses his emotions and feelings...
“Don’t you think I would have sent him to you, and if not I would have a valid reason. Really, Montag, don’t you trust me at all?”
“I suppose I trust no one.”
“Of course you don't. You sit here on your high horse, your mighty throne and forget the world around you. The citizens Montag, the citizens are not happy...There’s been talk. Talk of overthrowing you-”
“And you just now bring that to my attention!”
Just then thundering sounds of banging resonated throughout Montag’s throne chamber. The double doors, that Montag used so faithfully to shout out the world around him clanged open revealing mobs of Montag’s citizens, his subjects, his people, all standing around a battering ram used to bust open the large double doors. Montag stood up from his seat in protest but was held back by Granger.
“What is the meaning of this?” Granger spat at the people.
One individual soon stepped forward, withdrawing an official document from his coat pocket. Without adieu, he began to read of the curious document he clenched in his hands.
“An Order of the High Court, filed by the people of the newly established state. We the people find Guy Montag, former Governor of all the city, to have sat in a position of unlawful supreme rulership. Oppressing the citizens of the newly established State, freeing criminals on the basis of praiseworthy interpretation of literature, Guy Montag has proved unfit to serve as Governor of the people and as a citizen of the Newly established state-”
Montag stepped forward and struck down the man reading from the document. he turned his attention toward those around him and ordered them out of his chamber. They, however, to his surprise, stood before him, resilient, as strong as the skin on the bulging back of a pachyderm. “This is uncalled for people” now spoke Granger “This can not be happening? Where is the trial?”
“There is no trial” replied one familiar citizen stepping forward. He picked up the court document that had fallen from the hands of the now unconscious man and resumed reading it.
“Under extreme federal Law established by the founders of the state and the people, immediate execution is required for the offender.”
He stopped reading and peered deep into Guy Montag's eyes. He then removed a steel instrument of mass destruction from his belt loop. Black lifted the gun and pointed it at the center of Montag’s temple as if aiming at the bull's-eye of a target. Black squinted one eye and grinned with crooked devilish lips.
“This is merely a sentencing hearing”
He fired.