He looked down at it, and then, when she didn't move it, at her face."Do you want to do it again?" she asked.He swallowed. Then he swallowed again. He...still couldn't speak.So he nodded yes.The biscuits and gravy were ready. She had covered the biscuits with a towel and the gravy was turned to warm, with the lid on the pan. She couldn't just call them to supper. She had to wait until they were finished talking. She thought about eating, but then decided she wasn't hungry. Finally, she had time. Usual. Nothing to worry about. Those few who did know - who had gathered, and planned, and bought, and organised - weren't saying anything either. It'd be nice to think, looking back, that this was because they were worried they'd be found out, their efforts stamped out, their leaders cursing as they were dragged away in handcuffs to cells that would never be opened. Or simply dismissed, ranting and raving like loons as all their frantic scribbles and diagrams came to nothing. Maybe they were. More

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