LJ Idol 10: Week 6: Heel-Turn
The Few Will Become Many
To save the people of Earth, The Few must join as one.
The Final City will rise from the ashes of the old world.
All among the few who have survived The Final War and swear allegiance to The Final City will be become a part of the whole and reside in adherence to the Law of Conformity.
This is the Final Great Act of Humanity.
*
Before, when the world was easier to understand, I used to sit on the back porch and watch the man I loved walking the milk cows out of the barn. The smell of coffee drifting from the house, the rising sun catching the dew on the grass making the whole field sparkle.
It still takes my breath away how fast it all changed.
In my dreams those days on the farm are always dappled in sunlight, the two of us immersed in green and gold.
Now my world is concrete and iron. Mornings are the hardest. Waking up into the cold and grey and for just a single moment thinking maybe this is the dream.
I can’t help scratching at the implant right under the skin near my left wrist as I’m marched down the hallway with the other inmates.
I used to believe He was still in there somewhere, the boy who held my hand while the world transformed around us. Before they were stained with so much blood. Before He turned his back on all that we once believed in.
He always made a handsome soldier, even after I realized we weren’t fighting the same war, and when he steps into the corridor the florescent light catches on the brass buttons of his uniform.
He walks right past me just as he has the last three times he inspected the Sector 7 Secure Compound. I’m not surprised he hasn’t recognized me. I hardly recognize myself anymore; flinching whenever I catch the reflection of my shorn hair and sallow skin.
Since I’d been charged with treason against the Final City and locked up here six months ago I’ve only glimpsed the sun through windows eighteen feet above the cell-block level.
He’s five paces down the row when I finally find my voice.
“Mikey,” I say it out loud for the first time in so long and my heart skips a beat.
His head turns sharply to me but I’m on the ground curling into the pain in my side; the guard who’d knocked me down is apologizing for my behavior. I really hate when people apologize for me when I’m not in the least sorry.
He’s kneeling into my field of vision squinting back at me and I hear my own true name whispered in his voice.
We’re sixteen again. He’s whispering it to me, passing a note underhand beneath the desk as I look back over my shoulder. The words ‘Will you marry me?’ written in pencil.
“Still alive then?” He’s asking me quietly. His hair is streaked with white at his temples now; a sneer distorting his features.
“I live only to serve The Final City, Lord Chancellor,” I say.
“Stand her up,” he commands rising to his feet and motioning to the guards.
“Sate the Law of Conformity,” he says to me.
“There is no self but the whole. The whole will have one purpose. The whole will have no gods or idols. The Whole will be gratified by adherence to the Final Act,” I recite.
“Do you abide by the Final Act of Humanity?” he asks.
“Do you still play the guitar Mikey?” I ask in return.
In an instant he pulls a taser-stick from the holster of the guard to my left and holds it under my chin. My breath catches but I recover quickly.
“Address me again so informally and I will not show mercy,” he says. “Do you abide by the Final Act of Humanity?” he asks again.
I find I have enough saliva to spit in his face. He presses the button on the stick and it hums to life with a sickening crackle that echoes along my spine. I cry out but the guards keep me on my feet.
When the pain stops I am shaking and trying not to panic. My nerves are still singing and he’s wiping his face with the back of his hand.
“Why don't you come back to my cell, for old times sake?” I say with all the audacity I can summon.
“I would never lie with a heretic like you,” he responds.
And oh, but he had, just the thought of it still quickens my blood; makes me tense my arm before I remember I am restrained. I am struck by the desire to reach out and stroke his cheek. I still want to taste those lips that have spoken so many beautiful, detestable, words against humanity. The great orator that brought The Few to their knees with his rhetoric and charm.
I begin to speak again, telling him it’s not too late, begging him to remember what was good about the old world and that hope is a light in the darkness because I can’t bring myself to say the word love.
He raises the baton and I brace myself for the blow when an alarm sounds and a guard steps forward pressing a button on his ear piece.
“Sir, there's been an incident at meal assembly and we need to put this block on lock-down. We'll have Peace Officer Riley escort you to the Warden's office while we ready your aircraft for transport.”
He stares at me as he lowers the weapon then hands it back to the guard with a nod and spins away from me to follow PO Riley. I consider calling out to him; to warn him. But I don’t. Instead, I fall in line and shuffle back toward my place in the world.
As we turn a corner the guard named Simon directs me down a different hallway. I put up a good fight demanding to know where I'm being taken.
“You’ve dishonored Sector 7 and will serve thirty days in the tank Prisoner 226,” the guard says firmly.
I pretend to struggle but my limbs feel like they are made of shifting sand. I am afraid for a moment I won't have the strength and our plan has failed; that I've gone too far by antagonizing the Chancellor and getting myself shocked but then Simon has me by the elbow and is pushing me up against the wall whispering in my ear.
“He won't make it to the helipad two two six, Operation Phoenix has succeeded. The Few Will Become Many.”
I curse loudly at him, continuing to play my part and he grabs my wrist pressing a cold metal object into my palm before I’m pushed roughly down the hallway. I tighten my fist letting the teeth of the key bite into my flesh, grounding myself.
Today the old world will be reborn from the ashes of the Final City and The Few will become many.
Update: Here's the link to the poll for this round: http://www.livejournal.com/poll/?id=2061865