Children of Wrath

by Ryan King

  "Okay, let's go over everything again," Nathan said.

  Edgar elbowed Tarl in the ribs and whispered, "General Nathan freaking Taylor on a rescue mission for us, can you believe it?"

  "No," answered Tarl, looking at Nathan's branded hand and then into the other man's eyes.

  Chapter 13 - Celebration

  "It really worked," Paul Campbell said for the twelfth time in three hours.

  "Of course it worked," answered Ethan, puffing on a cigar. He had chosen to celebrate and had even been magnanimous enough to allow Paul to participate. They had just finished a perfectly prepared steak with new potatoes and asparagus and were continuing to work on a bottle of rich Shiraz wine. Right now they were sitting on the balcony of Ethan's personal retreat looking down on a large lake.

  Paul sat back and puffed his own cigar. "That was an awesome meal. I'd love to be able to eat like that more often."

  "Why can't you?" asked Ethan.

  Paul looked confused. "The rationing and the coming winter and..."

  Ethan blew out smoke. "We both know that the JP is much better off that the WTR and far better prepared for the winter, yet I have no concerns for the coming months. I also eat like this nearly every night. Why can I do that and you cannot?"

  "Because you have more control," Paul ventured.

  "No," said Ethan. "It's because I know for a fact that I deserve it. That it's a right I have that corresponds to the burdens and worries and authority I bear. One of the perks of the job. You, on the other hand, would feel guilty about such things and are content with what people allow you to have. Ergo, you eat shit."

  "I wouldn't go that far," said Paul.

  Ethan snorted. "I probably don't go far enough. You tentatively reach out for what they give you. I bet you still live in the same house as before they elected you."

  "Well...I...it's just..."

  Ethan smiled and looked down on the lake. "There is no point in climbing this high and sacrificing this much if there are not benefits at the top. Otherwise, who in their right mind would do it?"

  They both silently enjoyed their wine and cigars for several minutes.

  "I still can't believe it worked," said Paul suddenly.

  "Would you please stop saying that?" huffed Ethan.

  "Sorry," said Paul. "It just seems so...unreal."

  Ethan turned to face him. "Why wouldn't they go along with this? Think about it. They're politicians. It's more tax revenue, more security, more resources, and more power ultimately for them. There is no reason they wouldn't go along with it...at least, no reason they are aware of."

  "Excuse me?" asked Paul.

  Blowing out more smoke, Ethan set the cigar down so he could talk with his hands. "You see, they are dealing with a situation that demands all available information to make the correct decision. The problem is, they do not have that information, yet believe they do. Sometimes manipulation is not only about planting information but about withholding it. And politics and power are both ultimately about manipulation."

  Paul was silent a moment, thinking. "And what information don't they have?"

  Ethan took a sip of his wine. "That I am a megalomaniac with borderline personality disorder."

  Paul chuckled at the joke.

  Ethan did not.

  Paul's face fell and his eyes got wide.

  Glancing to the side, Ethan smiled at Paul's face. "Come on now. They have every reason to be deceived, but not you. Did you really think I was like everyone else?"

  "But," stammered Paul, "if you know this, why not get some help?"

  Ethan snorted. "Help? I didn't say anything was wrong with me. On the contrary, my particular makeup gives me confidence, ambition, and resolve. I am also seldom distracted by those worthless things you call feelings. Sentimentality plays no role in my reality. I am not the one who needs help, dear boy. It is the rest of you."

  Paul sat back in his chair and gazed at the lake. "But what is it all for?"

  "All what for?"

  "All this." Paul waved his hands around. "The WTR, the JP, having power. Why?"

  Ethan shook his head at him. "If you have to ask that, you can never understand. For me to explain to you the why of acquiring power is like trying to explain the color green to a blind person or the sound of a bird to someone who is deaf. You will never understand and we will never be the same."

  "I don't even want power," said Paul quietly. "I just want my family back."

  "I know," said Ethan. "And that is one of the reasons you are still alive, Paul. You can never ever be a threat to me or my plans, yet you are useful in so many unique ways. You are a tool wielded by a master sculptor. I am the artist; you are one of many tools I use to create my exquisite masterpiece."

  "What masterpiece?" asked Paul.

  Ethan smiled shyly. "You will have to wait and see like everyone else. Could Michelangelo have explained David before he was finished with it? Could anyone comprehend Rembrandt's The Night Watch until they had gazed upon it in stunned awe? Of course not. To speak of it unfinished is only to diminish it. Let us speak of it no further."

  "Okay," said Paul and then more tentatively. "When this is all over, will I be able to have my son back? For good? Like in our home, like a normal family?"

  Ethan reached over and patted Paul's hand. "But of course. A worker deserves his wages. When the work is done, you will get what you have earned. Have no fear."

  Paul turned back to the lake. He did fear.

  Chapter 14 - Karaoke

  Joshua was trying to concentrate on what he was saying, but it was extremely difficult given the rotund balding man on stage singing Cindy Lauper's Girls Just Want to Have Fun.

  "You sure there isn't anywhere else we could talk?" asked Henry.

  "Not that I could think of," said Joshua. "Too many people in our bunkrooms, the cafeteria is closed, and the library's too quiet. Besides, no one's paying any attention in here."

  The rotund man finished his song to overly enthusiastic applause, and he handed the microphone off to Simon the entertainment director. "And that was Gerald from our very own Level Three singing Girls Just Want to Have Fun. Let's give it up for him again."

  The room did, and suddenly the spiraling spotlights all came together and vectored in on Joshua's table.

  "And let's give a warm Genesis welcome to our newest guests from nearby Kentucky!" Simon said, and everyone looked at them and applauded.

  "Yes," said Henry smiling, "we're very incognito here."

  "That's really nice," said Aaron.

  "And now," said Simon, "let's get ready for Valerie's rendition of Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive."

  "Oh, I love this song," said Aaron.

  Joshua closed his eyes and sighed, "Look guys, we really need to focus."

  "I'm getting another beer," said Henry. "Anyone want one?"

  Aaron quickly killed his and handed Henry his empty mug. "Thank you kindly. I got the next one."

  Joshua was about to admonish Aaron when Simon swooped in out of nowhere, startling Joshua so much he nearly took evasive maneuvers.

  "You boys having fun?" asked Simon.

  "Hell yeah we are," said Aaron, bobbing his head to the music.

  "Glad to hear it," said Simon. "I can't help but notice none of you have sung yet. It's hardest the first time around, but once you get it out of your system, there's nothing to it."

  "You got any Waylon Jennings?" asked Aaron.

  "We sure do," said Simon, clapping his hands together. "Let me guess: Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way?"

  "Do you have it?" asked Aaron.

  "We sure do," said Simon. "I'll sign you right up. What about you, Joshua?"

  "No thanks," said Joshua, his head on the table.

  Simon looked at him critically. "I bet you're a James Brown man."

  "No, thank you," said Joshua.

  "I'm your James Brown man," said Henry, returning with three frosty beers.

  "Well, okay then," said Simon. "Le
t's get funky in here."

  "I'll be over in a minute to look at the options," said Henry.

  Simon smiled and moved off to another table.

  "Man, this place is awesome," said Aaron.

  Joshua groaned. "Guys, can we please just focus here?"

  "Okay," said Henry. "Joshua's right. Let's pay attention. What was it we were talking about?"

  "How to get out of here," said Joshua patiently.

  "Are we really sure we want to do that?" asked Aaron. "I mean, it's nice here. I mean like really nice. Outside, not so nice, get it?"

  "Yeah, we get it," said Joshua, "but we're soldiers of the JP and have an obligation to warn them of Vincent Lacert and the MA. Aren't you worried about the safety of your family?"

  Aaron shrugged. "I don't have any family."

  "Okay then. Other people's families." Joshua sighed. "The point is, we have a duty to warn people. We can't just sit here on our hands drinking beer and singing karaoke."

  "Joshua's right," said Henry. "We have to find a way out...even if it is damn good beer."

  "Yeah it is," said Aaron, and he and Henry high-fived.

  "Listen up," said Joshua with authority in his voice, and the smiles vanished off each man's face. They looked at him attentively. "Let's go over it again. Henry, what do you do?"

  Henry looked up while remembering. "I wait until Frederick goes to sleep and then get up like I'm going to the bathroom. On the way back, I snatch his keys and then go out the door."

  "Aaron," said Joshua, "what do you do?"

  "As I come off shift, I slip a couple of pry bars into my boot bag and go wait for you by the elevators."

  "Not right by the elevators," said Joshua. "You don't want to draw attention. We'll try to meet you there at midnight, but if you're early, just look natural."

  "Look natural," said Aaron. "Got it."

  "We'll then take the lift down to the river," said Joshua. "At that time of night, there should be almost no one around. We'll go over the catwalk to the overflow tunnels, pry the screening off, and then slip inside."

  "What if someone sees us?" asked Aaron. "I'm pretty sure this is against the bylaws."

  "Screw the bylaws," said Joshua, "and we won't get caught."

  "Are you sure those overflow tunnels lead to the surface?" asked Henry. "I'm not an engineer or anything, but my understanding was that water flowed down."

  "The tunnels do go down for nearly a hundred meters," said Joshua. "Far enough to build up pressure, and then they go back up to the surface. The up slant is only a few meters at most."

  "How do we know there's not water sitting down there?" asked Aaron.

  "There shouldn't be," said Joshua. "The water level has been so low they've talked about having to close off the lower tunnels to build up pressure. If there is any water, it shouldn't be too much. We can swim through it."

  "Hold on now," said Aaron. "I don't swim that well, especially in dark confined tunnels deep underground."

  "Don't worry," said Henry. "We'll be with you. Where do these tunnels come out anyway?"

  "Maps show it comes out on the Saint Francis River to the west of here," said Joshua.

  "West?" said Aaron. "That's back the way we came. That's back toward the MA."

  "Just at first," said Joshua. "As soon as we're out, we can head back east again."

  Aaron looked troubled. "I'm not so sure about this."

  "You don't have to be sure," said Joshua. "You just have to do as you're told."

  "Yes, sir," said Aaron, sitting back sulking as he drank his beer.

  I Will Survive had just ended and Simon was on stage again. "Thank you, Valerie. Now I hope you're ready for a treat. One of our new guests is going to sing some Waylon Jennings."

  Aaron popped up out of his seat. "That's me," he said, taking a big chug of his beer and then jogging toward the stage.

  Joshua shook his head. "Is he going to be okay?"

  "He'll be fine," said Henry. "I'll talk to him. You sure you want to go tonight?"

  "Yes," said Joshua. "Not a moment longer."

  Chapter 15 - The Golden Age

  "It is a terrible thing to be living in the last days of a civilization's golden age," Reggie told the auditorium of Murray State University students. He had been asked to speak about his time as the JP President, but this was the core of his message. It was what he wanted people, especially these young men and women who would be the future of the JP, to understand.

  "Our civilization's golden age has passed. We have lived through it," he explained. "We will not see its like again. We must accept that fact if we are to move forward and prepare for the future."

  He pushed the remote and an image appeared on the screen behind him. It showed the Roman Forum in ruins beside an artist's reconstruction of what that area had looked like in full glory. "Rome was the most powerful and stable government and civilization the western world had ever seen. Most of our laws have been handed down from them. Their empire and way of life at its height spanned the majority of their known world. Yet, over time it became corrupt, weak, and rotten from a lack of civic responsibility. The very citizens who had made Rome great turned on it, seeking bribes, little comprehending they were the ones paying their own bribes."

  Reggie pushed a button on the remote and the picture changed to show a painting of the Goths sacking Rome. "When Rome finally fell, priceless information was lost. Although much of western civilization's knowledge was preserved in Constantinople and Alexandria, these were eastern cultures. It was simple knowledge lacking practical application. Europe passed into the Dark Ages. Previous knowledge and civilization and culture were largely lost for nearly a thousand years before the Renaissance began to reapply those lost ideals."

  "So you're implying," interrupted a young woman in the front row, "that we are also entering a dark age?"

  Reggie smiled. "I am. We are already in it. It would be a mistake to try to return to what we lost before N-Day. It is as impossible for us as it would have been for the Picts to build an aqueduct. We have to stop trying to return to the way things were before."

  "And just give up?" asked a large black man near the back.

  "No," answered Reggie, bringing up his next slide. It showed a picture of an Irish monk painstakingly copying an ancient work. "We preserve what we have for future generations. There will be a Renaissance for us too, if we prepare for it. To do this, we must pass down the information of our forefathers. That information must be protected at all costs. It is our calling and our one true responsibility beyond survival and the main reason education of future generations is so important."

  "So that we can eventually have another industrial revolution following our renaissance," said an acne-covered face to Reggie's left. "That was the beginning of mankind's leap forward."

  Reggie frowned. "An industrial revolution may not be possible within our lifetime, if ever."

  "Why is that?" asked the moderator.

  Pushing his reading glasses up on his face, Reggie sighed. "The industrial revolution would have been impossible without three things. Of those three we only have one and only in insufficient quantities. Steel. The Mennonites have been able to produce in moderate amounts from the raw iron mined at LBL. Eventually, this could expand to large amounts."

  "Electricity we have also," said a diminutive girl with auburn hair.

  "Yes," answered Reggie, "but we need internal combustion engines for an industrial revolution, and those run on fossil fuels. Right now, we're limited by what was left over after N-Day and the meager amounts we've been able to obtain by trading. There are small oil deposits to the south and east and still vast amounts of coal in eastern Kentucky, but our ability to procure fossil fuels in sufficient amounts will be difficult. Also, we're just beginning to learn how to process and refine these fossil fuels for our use."

  Muttering filled the room as the audience talked among themselves.

  "You said three things were required," said the moderator.


  "Yes," answered Reggie. "Surprisingly, there would not have been an industrial revolution without rubber. There is no internal combustion engine without rubber seals and gaskets. Rubber is in everything and of critical importance. The majority of the rubber supplied for the Industrial Revolution came from rubber trees in the Amazon."

  "What about synthetic rubber?" asked someone in the back.

  "Made from petroleum byproducts which we have very little of," said Reggie.

  "We could recycle the rubber we have," said a tall teenager.

  An older gentleman with spectacles raised his hand and spoke, "Sir, I'm a professor of chemistry here and I'd like to answer that question if you don't mind."

  "Please do," said Reggie.

  The professor nodded and seemed to collect himself. "Rubber is one of the most unique substances in nature. Its elasticity is what makes it so stable and why it is not seriously affected by extreme heat or cold, but its stability means it cannot be broken down and modified easily. Strangely enough, rubber forms into molecules of its final shape. As an example, each rubber band is one gigantic, extremely complex rubber molecule. There is simply nothing else in nature like it."

  "Couldn't we grow our own rubber trees?" asked another student.

  Reggie frowned. "Rubber trees only grow in tropical environments; they would never survive our winters here. Although people do have small rubber trees as houseplants, these are very small. To obtain raw latex from a rubber tree, it needs to be mature, and mature rubber trees are very large. Too large for any indoor structure or greenhouse."

  "So what do we do?" asked a horse-faced blond girl.

  "Figure it out," said Reggie. "Work with what we have. Discover something else. Remember that before there was an industrial revolution there was an agricultural revolution, and that is potentially within our grasp. We must regularly produce a food surplus in order to turn our minds to other things. Beyond that, we simply wait and bide our time until it is possible to establish a global trade again. Waiting might be our safest course of action."

  "But for how long?" asked the redheaded teenager. "Surely not another thousand years like between the fall of Rome and the Renaissance."