Dark Age

by Felix O. Hartmann

  “July 15th 2049,

  The former competing company that planned to release mechanical organs for the common man was bought by the Aristocrats, and now supplies them with android soldiers. This rescued the Aristocrats, as over 99% of the army had been reported to have deserted the government. The fight for the resistance is futile once again, as the Aristocrats can buy any man with their leverage of immortality and riches.”

  “August 3rd, 2049,

  The care packages have stopped, and the Aristocrats have no more interest in appeasing the ones that had not yet joined the resistance. I want to leave this city as soon as possible, but Amber wants us to wait another month, and hope for the best.”

  “August 15th, 2049,

  The Aristocrats made one mistake. They had power, but they used us, the common men, as a conduit to receive that power. Now with almost everyone against them, much of their authority is fading. The only reason they have not collapsed is because their android armies make up for their low numbers.”

  “September 9th, 2049,

  The resistance took down the entire energy grid of the country. With all the engineers, electricians, and reactor workers on our end, we have been able to put to halt their domination. In a few days their robot armies will be useless.”

  “September 10th, 2049,

  Taking out the energy grid was a two sided sword. It gave us military advantages, but life is no longer the same. Communication, knowledge, and comfort disappeared at the blink of an eye. Until it’s gone you don’t realize how dependent you are.”

  “September 21st, 2049,

  The last batteries are empty and all gas and electricity stations have been drained for generators and cars. We now live by candle light and the little food we can loot from the stores.”

  “October 1st, 2049,

  We were able to build a kinetic energy driven satellite radio. It turned out that similar events were happening all around the world. In several countries the Aristocrats had already obliterated the resistance or enslaved them. These countries promised to send nuclear missiles to destroy us before we could win the fight. The resistance’s warfare generals consider a pre-emptive strike.”

  “October 3rd, 2049,

  I just don’t know what to do. It has not been a year yet I cannot recognize my life. What has happened? Today I was at the resistance headquarters to pick up goods. That’s when the bombs struck. I ran home as fast as I could, but all I found was a pile of rubble with the remains of my loved ones. Rest in Peace Amber and Lizzy, I will love you forever, and will join you very soon.”

  “October 5th, 2049,

  Through the radio we received news that the Aristocrats designed a new genetic modification that makes man resistant to radiation. Upon this news we fired our first score of uranium rockets. It has to end. Now.”

  “October 6th, 2049,

  Surprisingly they haven’t fired back, but they will any day now. And when they do, there will be nowhere to run. A few of us have decided to leave the continent and head east across the Atlantic to destabilize the headquarters of the European Aristocrats. We packed all we could, but history, knowledge and most of the progress mankind had made was bound to get lost with this endeavor. The ships were ready the same day. Boarding, I knew that I would never see those that stayed behind ever again.”

  “October 15th, 2049,

  In any other circumstance being in the middle of nowhere surrounded by miles of water would have been terrifying, but right now it was the most peaceful place I have been at in almost a year. Every day I see rockets in the sky, like shooting stars filled with the hatred of spiteful wishes. The fact that they were still flying meant that neither side had won, but it also meant that more of us had been turned to ashes along with our history and the monuments we have kept alive for thousands of years.”

  “November 1st, 2049,

  Our ship arrived at the coast of what once had been Portugal. The great port cities are beyond recognition. Among the rubble and rotten corpses, memories of a civilization lie like dirt, soon to be consumed by the earth. We got off the boats and started traveling by foot. Our goal is to make it to central Europe, and find refuge in the countryside of Germany or France.”

  “November 3rd, 2049,

  Our radiation indicators reveal that our journey will be harder than we thought. Avoiding all formerly populated landscapes we have to travel through woods and mountains to escape extended exposure.”

  “December 10th, 2049,

  We made it. On our way to Central Europe, our group grew. Along the way we picked up thousands of men and women that wanted to join the resistance. We now call ourselves the Global Resistance. In all the countries we traveled through, we destroyed the power grid taking away the Aristocrats means of surveillance and control. Now it was time to set up a new headquarters in a small town. Maybe we could finally establish a new life again.”

  “December 24th, 2049,

  It was Christmas time, and despite what has happened many have not lost their faith. I enjoyed the food and the company, but there is no god for me in this lost world.”

  “December 30th, 2049,

  Tonight we infiltrated the Aristocrats European headquarters and destroyed their power supply. Now they had lost everything. Their money had no worth in a world of survival, their positions of power had lost their roots, and their technological superiority had vanished into oblivion. Now they were nothing but common men, with indefinite lives, long enough to repent their mistakes.”

  “December 31st, 2049,

  We achieved what we wanted but our generals want more. For New Year’s they are planning to annihilate all that is left of the Aristocrats and anyone else, so that once 2050 begins we could live in peace. They talk about ‘cleansing’ the world, but all I see is madness. Men that rebelled against oppression are becoming the oppressors. For every god there is a Satan, and because God made all of us godly, there is a Satan in us all. Give a leader some power and he will do what is best for people. Give a leader absolute power and he will still do what is best for his people. Power does not corrupt; it merely elevates the degree in which something is done that has already been pursued.

  While the generals prepared the nuclear warheads they had collected from across the world, two brothers of mere eighteen years spoke to the people, urging to follow them into a new life separate from violence. Charles and Alexander had disempowered the Global Resistance by over a million that now followed their lead. I was among them. Together we headed east into the countryside of Central Europe.”

  “January 1st, 2050 or 0,

  It was a new beginning. In a small valley hidden from the rest of the world we found an old castle dating back to the Middle Ages. The walls are thick and tall, and the land beyond is vast and fertile. The valley is remote enough from any nuclear blast of the past year, avoiding radiation, and is locked in by the mountains, allowing no telecommunication or tracking signals to go in or out. Charles fell in love with the castle, and claimed it for himself the moment we arrived. Alexander however thought it too limited and small, seeking greater possibilities for expansion in something nobody had thought off: The Underground Empire. It was on this first day that the deserters of the Global Resistance had split. Charles’ followers became known as the Traditionalists, following old doctrines and living a sedentary life in the castle away from any modern technologies, the root to all the evil that had arisen over the past year. They swore to not speak of it again, to ensure that man would never repeat the same mistakes. Alexander’s followers became known as the Escapists, trying to escape into their old lives by creating a vast Underground Empire. With their many engineers they aimed to recreate the technologies of the past, while living far enough underneath the earth to avoid the radiation.

  It was this day the men entered the castle, and it was this day the first pickaxe hit the ground. In the center of the valley with their followers behind them, they stood and shook hands creating the Treaty of Nusquam, swearing
that the two states would stay out of contact unless for diplomatic or trade relations. And even such contact will be indirect. All of it is to be conducted through intermediaries, called ‘the Gate Watchers’, an elite group of men that belonged to both, and yet neither state, overlooking the various gates in the mountains that separated the two states. I was chosen to be one of these men.”

  “January 11th, 2050 or 0,

  Today was my twenty-fifth birthday. But no one knew. None of my friends from last year lived. Every night, no every second, I miss Amber and Lizzy. My life seems like one horrid nightmare. Just last year at this time some of my political science classmates and I went to Central Park and celebrated my birthday with a few beers. Now they were all dead, the city was nothing but rubble and corpses, and I was in some fucked up fantasy world where I am trained to use a sword to become a ‘Gate Watcher’ between a medieval city and an Underground Empire. I want to leave this world but I don’t think I have the strength to do it.”

  …

  “January 11th 2060 or 10,

  Thirty-five. I cannot believe it has been ten years since I touched this little book. I stopped writing for a day, the day turned into a week, and the week into a month, and soon every time I lifted the pen, I felt as if whatever I would be writing was not equivalent to the magnitude of the events depicted till now. Much has happened, yet little has changed. The city has been refurbished and renovated. Most men lived in decent homes and had jobs that made the city self-sufficient. It took less than a week for the city to divide into factions. The educated made themselves merchants, and claimed that they should receive the secluded part of the city as they had expensive goods that could be stolen. The poor and dumb were pushed into the ruins close to the wall as the middle class men argued that no one wanted the smell from the factories and burning of wood and coal in the middle of the city. Not even Charles is who he once was. The people loved him and he used that love to create one of the most powerful tales. A tale of God. He told the people that God had talked to him and sent him to this castle. He had already been the leader, but what this tale had done for him was to make him a leader for a lifetime, as he was the right hand of God. No longer was he seen flirting with the girls in the city, no longer was he conversing with the commoners, and no longer was Charles his name. From that day on he had been only known as ‘the Inquisitor’.

  The Underground Empire had been flourishing even more. In just ten years they had built their first underground metropolis which they called Atlantis. Through innovation and new forms of energy, their lifestyle was back to the standard of the 1920’s, which was astonishing compared to the 8th to 13th century standards of the Traditionalists. For the next years the Escapists had planned to spread their empire down to the Mediterranean Sea, and soon create an entire network throughout Europe. Alexander was determined to surpass his namesake in greatness, and become the greatest conqueror of all times. But their strength was limited. They still partially depended on the Inquisitor and his city to supply them with fresh foods, unable to find a way to replicate the sun and create life on their own.”

  “September 9th, 2063 or 13,

  Alexander has reached the Mediterranean Sea. I still cannot believe the reports.”

  “September 10th, 2063 or 13,

  The conquest had its toll. Just a day later the coastal tunnels began to disintegrate, causing a mass collapse that spread many miles up north. Luckily the region had not been populated, but a few hundred miners are reported dead.”

  “December 13th, 2063 or 13,

  The tunnels have become less safe. Every month some tunnels collapse. The expansion has simply been too rapid. But even worse are the raids. Reports from the South state that former Aristocrats have formed tribes that attack small underground villages.”

  “October 7th, 2066 or 16,

  Alexander has gone too far. The consequences of his acts finally begin to show. The radiation safety procedures that were applied to Atlantis had been ignored in many outer regions for the sake of quicker expansion. As a result most of the newborns close to collapsed regions were born with birth defects: an extra extremity or a missing one, deformed body parts, or mental retardation. We, the Gate Watchers, were bribed to keep this news secret from the Inquisitor. I decided to not tell anyone. Not for the money, but out of fear of the Inquisitor’s possible response.”

  “January 11th, 2070 or 20,

  For forty-five years I have lived, and much I have seen. Birthdays have turned into mere reminders on how much time has passed. It has been 20 years now since we have found this valley. The tensions between the brothers have been rising steeply. The Inquisitor is closer than ever from shutting off all trade with the Empire and starting his own earth metal mining.”

  “February 19th, 2071 or 21,

  A plague has erupted in the outer regions of the Empire, and is beginning to spread fast.”

  “February 22nd 2071 or 21,

  The plague has hit Atlantis, and is now closer than ever to reaching the Gate Watchers and me. If one of the Inquisitor’s new miners catches the plague, I fear a complete destruction of the city. The medical standards inside the city are not just subpar, but rather dangerously low, just like they were in the dark ages.”

  “February 23rd 2071 or 21,

  The Aristocrat tribes have heard the news of the plague, and began raiding their way to Atlantis. A siege is lying ahead of us.”

  “February 24th 2071 or 21,

  Alexander walked past me today for the first time in 21 years. He came to visit his brother in the city to ask for military support. I had almost thought him to be a god or some divine creature, but he really was just a man. When he came back at night, his face was dark and filled with trouble. We talked shortly. He told me that once they obliterated the Aristocrat offensive on Atlantis, he would take his men down to the Mediterranean and travel by ship to Central Africa, a place that had been untouched by the War of 2049, and bid farewell to the violence once and for all. As I talked to him something struck me. For a man reaching forty, he still looked no older than his mid-twenties.”

  “February 25th 2071 or 21,

  Today the Inquisitor, or Charles as whom I remembered him, walked towards me. He gave me the one order only he could give me. To close the gates, and kill anyone who tries to open them.

  … That is no coincidence. When I saw the Inquisitor, he looked almost like he did the day he shook hands with his brother to form the Treaty of Nusquam. Could it be? Are they immortals? Could it be that they were part of the original Aristocrats? They seemed to be aging, but half as fast as the common man. They must have been someone else than they said they were 21 years ago.”

  “February 27th 2071 or 21,

  Every day I hear their screams, the scared, the sick, the hungry. Wildly they pound against the gate crying to be let in. Next to me rests a little chest in which I store some of the hand grenades I had brought with me from the Global Resistance HQ. If anyone breaches the gate I will blow them away with something they have not seen in years. It should do the job.”

  “December 2nd, 2076 or 26,

  Today was the first time I have heard from the Aristocrats and Escapists in years. It appears that the two interbred and found shelter as a tribe in the woods within the valley. In a large raid they attacked the families that lived on the farms, and took some of their livestock. Some say they have even eaten the bodies of the farmers.”

  “December 6th, 2076 or 26,

  The raids continue. The Inquisitor decided to shut the city gates and make the families stay inside. From what I have heard he is beginning to raise an army.”

  “January 11th, 2077 or 27,

  Fifty-two years. What are these numbers anyway? What does age signify? We try to quantify life as if it were a measurement or good. Since early December I have not received any news. Life has become much lonelier recently. With the Escapists shut off, the other Gate Watchers miles apart, and the Traditionalists being locked up behind the city ga
tes, I have not had any human contact in over a month. I think it is eating at me again. I miss her. I miss her so much. The only physical memory I have left is this photograph. Oh the hours I have spent staring at it. Her smile… oh, her smile. If no one comes within the next month to refresh my rations I will be with you soon Amber.”

  “January 28th, 2077 or 27,

  They made it. Today I was awoken from my sleep by the clanging sound of armor. A band of men led by the Inquisitor with blood smeared chest plates approached me, announcing that the war was won. “From now on however”, the Inquisitor continued “women, children and the elderly are not allowed to step outside the gates. Their safety shall not be risked. Every boy at the age of eighteen has to leave the city to join the Guard until he served for ten years. That is the new law. And it is God’s law.” I simply nodded when I heard those news. It seemed like an emergency law, but I can sense that it will turn into a new tradition. He will have an army, when all he ever talked about was peace… but who will question ‘tradition’?

  The Inquisitor had no use for me anymore, but kept me updated through his messengers, or sometimes even himself. It was too dangerous bringing me back to the city with all I knew, yet he seemed to respect me for my services too much to have me killed.”

  …

  “January 1st, 2090 or 40,

  Forty years have passed since we received our new beginning, our clean slate. Sadly I look back and see that we have not changed. Driven by greed, selfishness and hatred, we still fight one another instead of bringing us towards a world without violence. I just wish that one day we can leave our human weaknesses behind and be as godly as we were meant to be. I wonder if Alexander ever made it to Africa, but I fear they got massacred in the siege on Atlantis.

  As for the Inquisitor, he has become darker and sterner by the year. His rule has become stricter, and the people just live to serve God. The excitement and luster of our new golden age has fainted. This story is finished. The years are bleaker and bleaker, and my commentary can add little of substance.”