"The Main-Vault revealed heightened-visuals that illuminated a vagrant existence, a dog eat dog culture where survival is firmly in the hands of a hierarchical structure.
"The Avoiders have leaders in each sub-group and a series of rules were evident in the majority of the pack members that we surveyed. The primary rule involves a no-breeding policy and this is closely aligned with the necessity to keep moving as far as their locale is concerned. These Main-Vault readings gave us images and sounds that kept reiterating my aforementioned Avoider criteria, but the Vault-Extension mindsight neurological-scans obviously delved into an individual’s psyche to a deeper level and interesting results were found in this section of the brain. The Avoiders feel as you might expect them to – a quarry fleeing from us. Not surprisingly they exude a lot of hate, anger, aggression and yes, vendetta-spirit towards the MC-Project, but the vast majority of the individuals that we tested had stronger degrees of each negative emotion reserved for their own kind! We discovered that jealousy and envy pre-determined the thought patterns of most of our Avoider prisoners. We displayed on a laser screen the organisational chaos that breeds in the minds of each Avoider pack. Some of these packs will self-destruct before we get them and the minority that don’t will be destroyed by the power of our MC-Project forces. Either way, the Avoiders are a doomed entity in this world."
After her summary of the European Avoider situation, Levene spent two hours itemising the breakdown of Avoider groups across the United States. Her account was very detailed on a state-by-state basis and her words had a mesmerising effect on the American Division. She finished her Euro-American reconnaissance and waited for any questions that her colleagues may have had.
After a respectful silence MC-stalwart Blythe Carson spoke.
"You said that Avoider packs are easy to track via surveillance planes? With the military power that we have at our disposal, surely quick-fire eradication would be a formality? Doesn’t the real reason behind Avoider retention involve curiosity on our part – to determine what exactly makes the Avoiders persevere in the face of such adversity? I ask you Ms Levene, do some of the highest rank and file believe that the Avoiders have retained a form of bonding that is antithetical to the rest of core-society? Do we admire them in part?"
Levene was momentarily taken aback by Carson’s direct form of questioning. She cast a nervous glance at Wheeler, before she recovered her composure and then she continued in the attack-orientated riposte style that she had made her own.
"Perhaps you have been too long in the field Mr Carson. Many would argue that your words are tantamount to a form of project treason! In short, the Avoiders are our enemy and if you think that we hold them in admiration, I suggest that you enlist in the services of one of our very capable project-therapists. Yes we have the military prowess to take out 90% of the Euro-American Avoider groups, but the fiscal cost of such a mandate would run into billions.
"If the Avoiders were a homogenised military-machine, things would be different, but if you remember my previous words, you will realise that the Avoiders are merely disparate packs of scavengers playing out time.
"I have nothing against your initial question Mr Carson, but I objected to the word admire being utilised for the MC position regarding the Avoiders. Watch your language Blythe."
Levene then left the speaker’s podium without giving Carson the chance to counter her reply. Mr Sant acknowledged her as she took her leave.
Marcia had been jolted by Carson’s question. His words had disrupted what she felt had been a flawless performance up until that point. He had broken the ambiance that she had enjoyed and she hated him for daring to blemish her address. He was now a marked man in her eyes.
Marco Sant started to reveal the Prerogative Three statistics, now a decade in implementation, as far as First-world Auto-Vendetta eradications were concerned.
"A year ago, the United States of America were in pole position with regard to the implementation of Prerogative Three. We had terminated more Auto-Vendetta sections per-capita than any other First-world nation. Unfortunately we are now in second place."
The project ranks started to openly discuss Mr Sant’s surprising announcement. America had always been the leading country for successful Prerogative Three completions until that point. Sant continued after Wheeler had snarled a call for silence.
"The Brits have secured an 83% completion rate. We are second with a 90% return, but our MC-Project friends in China can now boast an outstanding 93% figure.
"Other European countries closely follow Britain, but the big news obviously involves China turning in a performance that is up year-on-year. The Chinese have flown into the top-spot from nowhere! We now have to challenge for the optimum completion status for the first time. I have spoken about this rank change to Mr Wheeler and he feels that we will collectively learn from the transition. He has felt for some time that we were losing our sharpness in relation to Prerogative Three head-counts and the Chinese ascendancy obviously pays testimony to his suspicions.
"We are obviously determined to regain the highest rank in this control-based area and I know that Professor David Tavini is waiting to tell you about the Leanworld-Vision that his research team have formulated.
"Leanworld was a concept that was first devised seven years ago and it wasn’t due for introduction for another decade, but Mr Wheeler is now keen to accelerate the implementation process. I will now let David guide you through the Leanworld-Vision."
Jess Wheeler deliberately hadn’t divulged the subject matter that Tavini would relate to the MC ranks, because he wanted his project colleague to break the Vision in his racy verbal style and get straight to the point. In Wheeler’s eyes, Tavini would be the slayer of the apathy that he felt had crept into sections of the American MC-Division. He knew that David’s words would distress some of the cohort, but that is exactly what he wanted. Tavini’s research area had been kept so secret that not even Levene had been privy to the development. Tavini always captivated his audience and his words on this occasion would prove to be his most significant revelation to date!
"Glad to see you MC-people. I’m glad to run the Leanworld-Vision by you.
"We waste too much time, too many dollars and too much energy on nurse-maiding those people who have been through Prerogative Three. What subsistence do you think our Chinese colleagues provide for their Prerogative Three graduates – nothing, zip-that’s what! Their population is already down 16% on a year ago as a direct result of their no-provision decision. Leanworld means exactly what the syllables indicate – fewer people. This means no dependency with just the strong surviving.
"We aim to cut supply in three stages. In six months we will halve distribution and then after a year we will reduce provisions to 20% of the current level. The final stage will commence after a period of eighteen months and this stage will involve the removal of all food and liquid provisions. After this point the dependent masses won’t slow us down anymore because most of them won’t be around anymore! A much smaller First-world population will be in evidence and it will be elite-determined in nature. There will not be a need for Prerogative Three in this near-perfect state. You see we have to eradicate the cancer of the masses to let the cream realise their full potential. In effect we will be ushering in the fantasy of yesterday and making it our concrete tomorrow! Prerogative Three paves the way and the Leanworld-Vision realises our dream!"
"That’s fucking genocide Tavini and you know it!"
Blythe Carson stood alone. His presence amidst the ranks of those silent seated around him, appeared as a very singular form of aberration. His confrontational words had been delivered from the heart and after years of challenging the MC party line he had come to expect support from some of his colleagues. Several people did reiterate his feelings concerning the maltreatment of the masses in private, but none stood with him to be counted in opposition on this occasion. Carson felt that the Leanworld-Vision represented a new directive of tyrannical proport
ions and he had been convinced that the time to arrest the moral slide had been activated by Tavini’s sick words. In a few seconds his expectation for solidarity had been crushed. Wheeler’s menacing eyes and Tavini’s manic ravings had silenced everyone but himself and he was left isolated in his defiance. The man continued with his attack nonetheless.
"Thanks for standing with me guys – where’s your stomach for a fight gone? I guess that a mad Professor and the lynch-mob mentality that hangs over all of us, has finally forced you into submission! Don’t you see how perfectly measured this whole fucking operation has been? Don’t you realise that in this Leanworld bedlam there will be further sub-divisions of the favoured and then you could well become expendable.
"We have collectively soiled the First-World population in the last decade and now we are going to cast them free after neurologically destroying the survival-instincts that they would have possessed naturally. We control the media, we control security and we control state legislation, but one day our sins are going to be measured against us. Today my words will have set up my execution – we all know that. They may come quietly in the night, or a rogue project driver will mow me down, but we all know the score, we all know that this will be my last farewell. Wheeler, Tavini – I submit my resig-option now. You took great pleasure in giving staff that freedom five years ago didn’t you? Well out of the few that took up the freedom-ticket, how many were seen again in the wider community? None! Not one fucking exception. They all disappeared, but unlike me they approached you privately with their resignation requests. At least I can say fuck the lot of you with some dignity left in my eyes!"
After his final project insult, Carson took his leave. He walked down the Assembly room aisle knowing full well that he was a dead man walking. He cast a final look back at the ranks of the fearful before taking the lift down to the outside world.
Upon reaching his MC-vehicle an idea came to him. It wasn’t radical in its conception, but it gathered inspiration from his father’s generation. He knew it had happened then, but protest had died in the New Age that he was a victim of.
The man unlocked the trunk of his vehicle and hauled out the fuel container. He proceeded to jog back up the sidewalk, stopping beneath an MC-Project building. Carson then ventured out into the middle of the litter-strewn highway and tipped the fuel on his High-Rank project clothing.
He sat cross-legged on the crumbling stone and scrawled a message on the surface of the highway. The man drank a small amount of fuel and then ignited himself. He was dead in seconds.
Carson was recovered later - a charred figure that still pointed an accusing finger up to the project building. His message had been untouched by the flames. It read as insult or inspiration depending on who would come across it…
…'The Avoiders – Man’s last Prayer.'
TWO
The old man’s trembling hand guided the coffee cup to his cracked lips and the gentle May sunshine provided a sharp contrast to the man’s austere image. He sat huddled in his long overcoat, remembering the extremities of the recent cold winter. He hadn’t been neurologically altered because they didn’t fear an individual who approached his 103rd year. The gentleman sat alone at a table at an outside café in front of the Hotel Kaiserworth. He had been a resident of Goslar for the majority of his life and now he had been left to play out his existence in the realms of memory. The man had turned bitter after his friends had left him, either by the final journey or through the alterations performed upon them by the MC-Project. The second group was usually younger in years and seemed as dead as those leaving in a coffin to all intents and purposes. They had returned to Goslar with a sickly, perpetual smile and their spirit had been drained from them. The man scowled as he pondered – there was more than one way to die. The provision lorry broke his train of thought when it arrived in the market-square. The mid-afternoon distribution of bread and water effectively marked time for the old man, if nothing else. Initially the handout had been quite exciting in it’s novelty, but as the years progressed the people grew less distinguishable from each other in terms of behaviour and their totality lessened with each successive year.
The old man and the small crowd awaiting provisions weren’t the only people who had witnessed the arrival of the vehicle. The binoculars of the Harz-based Avoiders had scanned the arrival from the lower slopes of the Harz Mountains. The word was given to advance via an acquired Comm-Lynx system and the pack sub-division on the outskirts of Goslar headed straight for the market-square.
The active group consisted of the seven most able street fighters. Their mission had a dual purpose, with a primary target that concerned the acquisition of food and liquid provisions. The secondary target involved the securing of any weapons from the MC-Project forces that were in attendance.
Taylor Wingate led the group; one of the British members of the Harz-pack and Feyer was second in command. She spoke fluent English, despite her Norwegian roots.
English was a linguistic common - denominator for the Harz-pack because most of the members were either British or American. The Scandinavian contingent was recruited when they resided in London as LSE students. After the MC-Project imposed closure on all educational centres eight years previous, the Avoiders had managed to rescue a few students before the vast majority were forced into a Prerogative Three modification programme.
Feyer had been one of the rescued. Ludmilla was the only Harz-pack Avoider who couldn’t converse in English. Despite this setback, the thirty-one year-old Latvian had proved excellent in the field of survival and her skills had greatly assisted the other twenty-six pack members. In the three years that the pack had spent in the Harz Mountains, Ludmilla had saved the lives of six of her fellow Avoiders.
The pack had enjoyed a period of ten months without suffering a fatality, but that particular afternoon would disrupt the new found equilibrium quite radically.
Feyer tightly clasped her Kalashnikov as the seven made their way into the market-square. The MC-Project driver was distributing the provisions to the assembled crowd, but he was oblivious to the advancing Avoiders as they approached him on his blindside. When the group were within a few metres of the distribution point, Wingate threw a knife at the man, with the precision of one who had seen Parachute Regiment active service.
The blade tore into the man’s neck just below the jaw line and the shaft entered the back of the mouth. Despite the awesome placement of the throw, death wasn’t instantaneous. The event was relatively silent because the man’s vocal chords had been ripped out and as he thrashed on the ground he effectively drowned in a deluge of his own blood!
When the man fell to the ground, his provision sack landed amongst the waif-like throng. There was no recognition of the man’s agony because the MC-Project had neurologically destroyed such comprehension and death was also an alien concept to people who only understood bliss.
For a brief moment the Avoiders were transfixed by the horror of encountering the wasted generation at such close proximity, but then they started to strip the vehicle of any items that their pack could utilise. Two of the group surveyed the market-square for any signs of additional MC-Project personnel, whilst the other five loaded their provision sacks. Everything was going to plan until a succession of bullets ripped into the face of Adam Redmond. He had been one of the two Avoiders watching over the square, but he hadn’t anticipated that a crack project hit - squad was in placement on the second floor of the Hotel Kaiserworth.
When the Avoiders had raided Goslar eighteen months previous, old people or the wasted had occupied the square buildings. Usually the Avoiders didn’t strike the same place twice and usually the Project didn’t reserve a crack response squad should they break this singular pattern. On this occasion though both conventions had been aborted and Redmond’s mutilated face was the first outcome surrounding the aberration of typical group practice.
Feyer had been in the lorry when Redmond had been killed, but she was the first to recover her
composure and shout a tactical instruction to the rest.
"Spread the Full-Star guys. I’ll see our neighbours."
The woman had conveyed a lot of detail into one short sentence and the group understood what must be done. The Full-Star reference meant that the pack must split in separate directions and Feyer had also indicated that she was in the best position to attack the hit - squad. Each Avoider had a memorised three-point compass direction by which they should scatter should a crisis situation materialise and being fired upon by an MC squad with a high-angle advantage definitely justified the calling of the crisis option!
When the Avoiders spread across the market – square in different directions, the hit – squad intensified their fire. They had a laser cannon in their possession in addition to the favoured Uzi and both types of weapon were now activated against the Harz – pack. The Project weapons cut through the ranks of the wasted Prerogative Three victims in a matter of seconds and the square was stained crimson with their blood.
A form of extermination was being carried out by the Project forces and some of the fleeing Avoiders stopped to return fire, believing that they stood a better chance of survival if they activated a response. Their stand and fight logic had been decided upon with carnage all around them and by abandoning the Full – Star they played into the hands of the enemy.
Panic had driven the four Avoiders to partake in the futile exchange of fire and as they hid behind rows of bloodied corpses, they became prime targets for the two American project staff that manned the laser cannon. The pair made light of their executions.
"No, leave fat man until the end Danny. Look at the slob cowering behind the bodies. Jeez, I thought the Avoiders were all skin and bone, but this guy’s a fucking whale!"
The Scream of Feyer: hitching a ride with a suicide bomber Page 2