Of Superior Design
Page 35
Chapter 35
“Uncle Johnny?”
“Yes, Daemon?”
“Why do people starve?”
The question was legitimate so he gave a legitimate answer.
“Because people believe those without are responsible for their positions in society.”
The troubling fact of food production had caused him worry over the decades. Technology had eliminated the scourge from the Earth yet people still went without what was necessary for survival. The only conclusion he could come to was not one he wished to consider. People, while good at times, were utterly reprehensible in their actions at others. He figured it came down to selfishness.
“But the children aren’t responsible for their parent’s actions, are they?”
“The children are a reflection of their parent’s actions so they are held accountable for their decisions.”
Daemon, as was his nature, thought over what Johnny imparted. He found it wanting.
“But the children didn’t do anything.”
“They were born, Daemon. To some that is enough.”
The trouble with humanity, Johnny thought, was the lingering hatred toward anything unfamiliar. He’s seen it with his own eyes; the inherent loathing of what was not the same and the subtle nuances employed to eliminate the problem. Name-bashing, slavery, incarceration were all the products of those who wished the world would just wake up and realize they were the dominant forces in nature and do away with those who would oppose their will. The fact all Humans had the same overall philosophy of righteousness but completely differing views of its proper implementation was the troubling part. The thought had even reached into the religious nature. Catholicism was, to him, the most hypocritical religion on the planet for they’d built a city of gold in reverence to a deity who pitied the poor. He’d read the Bible and the most memorable mention of the Messiah involved the rejection of those who saw wealth as the means to everlasting salvation. Jesus had upturned the money-lender’s tables and staked a claim to moral authority by doing so. The church then was headed by men who seemed to mock the very nature of the gesture. The Vatican was the lowest form of remembrance to the son of God for it was opulence on display for everyone to see. Why in the world would anyone seek guidance from a church who went about rejecting the very thing they were founded upon? He had another problem, though, because he couldn’t find an alternate believe with any shred of believability either. The other major religion went about proclaiming their love of peace through the act of exploding bombs. The only one left was a golden obese idol who he could not accept because the very idea of returning as a mosquito was rather abhorrent to his sense of self-worth.
“Why don’t we just kill them all?”
The question was one he’d been dwelling with for some time. Why not kill them all? They hadn’t exactly proven themselves able to overcome their own insufficiencies. Every time Johnny ate at a restaurant he thought of the incredible mindlessness of those performing the same function. Why in the world of modern technology could not the excess of food be brought to those in need? What would it take? A refrigeration unit and the ability for compassion? Were they worried about contamination? For everything the religions of the world provided their lack of a cohesive plan to end the suffering of those who had absolutely nothing to do with their situation in life raised its malnourished head. The only problem? He needed what they provided.
“We can’t kill them, Daemon.”
“Why not?”
“Because they possess what we do not.”
The answer was fear. The Humans had it and the Superiors lacked it. Without fear evolution was a crap shoot. Maybe they could wait around for a millennia to decide the fate of Heaven and Hell’s battle royal but they weren’t in the best position to do so. Sooner or later Heaven was going to learn of Daemon’s existence and then the gloves would come off.
“I still think we should kill them.”
“I hear you but I need to deny your wishes. The Humans stay alive for now.”
He could see the frustration on the young Wolf’s face and was reminded of his unique position in the hierarchy. He was the Alpha in the top family but the young Wolf questioning him wasn’t only the future, he was the answer. If it came down to a personality contest he was pretty sure which side the others would take and he figured his chances were about nil on the betting line. Daemon was what all wished to be; dominant.
They were sitting in chairs designed to provoke hemorrhoid formation. Everywhere they looked people could be seen scurrying in a confused and desperate state for the airport they were in was designed with the public’s wallets in mind. Stores were everywhere selling everything to anybody who no longer could tolerate sitting on objects designed specifically for discomfort. They’d been waiting for a while and Melissa had given in to temptation and was perusing a magazine rack in one of the mini-malls located a few feet from another institution of higher-thought removal; a fast-food chain designed to represent a slow-food eatery. The waiters and waitresses were all dressed to impress with the appropriate buttons and trinkets placed accordingly. The thought was to put the diner at ease by displaying humorous one-liners which would cause them to feel an attraction for the high-schoolers or employment-challenged and over-order in the process. The fact the place could claim to provide fresh calamari within minutes of ordering was overlooked by those remembering their youths through the tinted lens of franchised employment masquerading as a restaurant clown on display for the eating public’s voyeuristic pleasure.
“Uncle Johnny?”
“Yes, Daemon?”
“Why do men wear ties?”
The youth was becoming troublesome again because he was asking questions which had illogical responses.
“Because it’s what the business community expects of them.”
“Why would they expect them to wear a noose around their throat?”
He didn’t have a good answer so he did what he felt was the most appropriate response considering the circumstances.
“Go find Aunt Melissa and ask her. I’ll bet she knows.”
As the child wandered away in search of answers Johnny took a little time to soak in the atmosphere. It was a strange mixture. Anxiety, fear, excitement and extreme boredom were all on display according to the frequency of those on the move. The ones who flew for a living were of two camps; those resistant to sudden pause and those acceptant to its charms. He could spot both without moving in his seat for they were ever the exhibitionists. Those acceptant were invariably at a bar-stool talking to the female server who was faking interest till a flight departed and tip arrived. Those who were in denial about their power over time were on their phones expressing unending disappointment with the airline industry and their inconvenient flight delays. The fact the delays were actually the norm was lost on the ignorant for they never took the time to stop speaking to the poor sap who foolishly decided to answer the phone call from a friend who flew for a living. He was watching a young businesswoman talk incessantly to someone with the amazing ability to listen without interrupting when Daemon suddenly reappeared.
“Uncle Johnny?”
“Yes, Daemon?”
“Aunt Melissa says you have a phone call.”
The end game was near, the fourth quarter at hand and the ball in their possession. The only thing left was to run the play and let fate dictate the outcome.
“Okay” he said and rose to the challenge.