"But Wouldn't that mean the end of the Fraternities?" Claire asked.
"That's what Joyner and Graves say. We don't believe so. And suppose it did? Lancedale says, if we're so incompetent that we have to keep the rest of the world in ignorance to earn a living, the world's better off without us. He says that every oligarchy carries in it the seeds of its own destruction; that if we can't evolve with the rest of the world, we're doomed in any case. That's why we want to elect your father. If he can get his socialized Literacy program adopted, we'll be in a position to load the public with so many controls and restrictions and formalities that even the most bigoted Illiterate will want to learn to read. Lancedale says, a private monopoly like ours is bad, but a government monopoly is intolerable, and the only way the public can get rid of it would be by becoming Literates, themselves."
She glanced toward the door of Pelton's private rest room.
"Poor Senator!" she said softly. "He hates Literacy so, and his own children are Literates, and his program against Literacy is being twisted against itself!"
"But you agree that we're right and he's wrong?" Prestonby asked. "You must, or you'd never have come to me to learn to read."
"He's such a good father. I'd hate to see him hurt," she said. "But, Ralph, you're my man. Anything you're for, I'm for, and anything you're against, I'm against."
He caught her hand, across the table, forgetful of the others in the office.
"Claire, now that everybody knows—" he began.
"Top emergency! Top emergency!" a voice brayed out of the alarm box on the wall. "Serious disorder in Department Thirty-two! Serious disorder in Department Thirty-two!"