“On behalf of the Diamond Empire, governors of these territories,” he said, “I hereby declare this and all such theatres permanently closed as houses of rebellion and immorality. The building will be demolished by fire and the land impounded by the state. The following lewd and seditious persons are to be taken into Empire custody for their part in the playing and writing of plays and entertainments unbecoming to the dignity of an Empire territory.”

I stared at him. He couldn’t be serious. Close the theatres? Arrest the writers? It was madness.

The crowd thought so too. There was a surly grumbling from all over the building and a scattering of boos and hisses.

The officer nodded as if this was to be expected, and the soldiers drew their weapons. They were serious.

“William Hawthorne,” said the officer.

“Hello?” I said guilelessly. “Yes?”

The officer paused.

“I’m reading the list,” he said.

“List?”

“Of those who are to be arrested,” he added with steely patience.

“Ah,” I said. “William who?”

“Hawthorne,” said the officer. “Isn’t that you?”

“Me?” I said. “No. Never heard of him. I’m just a kid.”

“That’s Hawthorne, all right,” said a big, booming voice from the stage-left side. It was Rufus. He took a step out onto the lip of the stage and pointed a thick finger at me. “William Hawthorne.” He added, in case anyone might have missed the gist of the chat thus far, “Actor, playwright, thief, liar, and all-round snake.”

It was his most flawless performance to date.

The officer considered this. Then, returning his eyes to the list, he said simply, “Take him.”

SCENE II Making an Exit