“Please, I was just following orders! Please!!” he begged. He dropped to his knees, putting his hands in the air.
Will looked down at him, pondering for a moment. When the foul aroma of urine hit the air, the super soldier made up his mind. He jutted the sword into the man’s jugular, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as his body shuddered. The soldier spat up blood and after a few seconds of staring dead into his eyes, Will removed the sword as slowly as he could. The man crumpled to the floor, gasping as the crimson spread.
Will cleaned off his sword with a handkerchief from his belt before sheathing it, and walked toward the talker, who had not dared to run.
Luis found this fight dull. Wasn’t even practice really.
“What about this one?” he asked, pointing at the one with the severed arm. The soldier was too busy weeping over his own loss to take heed of the carnage around him. As soon as he felt the cyborg’s eyes turn toward him, he felt as if his heart was going to pump out of his chest.
“Put him out of his misery,” Will said as he turned away. The talker was far more interesting.
Luis smiled and walked over to him slowly. With each step, the man knew he was closer to death’s door. Perhaps it was better that way. But, I have to try...
As Luis approached, he saw the man fumbling in his pocket. Yes, a brave fighter to the end. However, it wasn’t a weapon that fell to the floor as the soldier spoke.
“Please, I have a family at home waiting for me. I’m nothing to you.”
Luis picked up the photo, to see a picture of an infant boy. The super soldier knelt down to the defeated man’s level, very close to him now.
“This your little boy?” he asked.
“No, sir,” the man said as he winced in his agony, “it’s my little brother, Saeed.”
“Your baby brother, you mean,” Luis laughed slightly, “wow, I feel cheated. You come to me, begging for sympathy, and all you can offer me is a picture of a brat who doesn’t even belong to you. Shame on you, sir.”
Luis stood back up, towering over the man.
“What? Sir, please!!”
It was no use. Luis pulled out his pistol and aimed it downwards. The desperate pleas were silenced as he pulled the trigger. The bullet traveled down the barrel of the gun, sped through the air, and penetrated the soldier’s skull, exiting out of the back of his head.
“Pathetic. He could’ve showed some dignity and just shut the hell up,” commented Luis.
“What’d you expect? Let’s just report to Kane already,” Will replied. He grabbed the last surviving soldier, lifting him by his injured arm. The man yelled in pain as he was forced to get up. The dismay in his eyes said it all. Will only had one thing to say.
“On your feet, jackass. I hope you enjoy John Wayne as much as he does.”
Chapter 2 – Will to Power
January 11, 2044 - Lincoln Memorial, Washington, D.C.
The crowds grew quiet as a limousine escorted by the local police arrived. Out stepped a man wearing a neat blue suit, accented with a dazzling, rosy tie. Having a thin mustache and combed back hair, his face seemed stern, but his smile made him very approachable. He was also modestly in shape for his age, appearing to be in his late forties or so.
As he stepped up the stairs, his assistant Kearney, rushed ahead of him, draping a banner on the front of the podium. On the banner was the UNR Party symbol, which had become rather popular recently. Now, Carl Venloran stood in front of the thousands of people, clearing his throat. He felt so many different feelings at this moment but above all, humility. He began to speak:
“I would first like to thank all of you for coming here today. You all display great love and pride for your country, which is why I myself am here. It is your generous donations to my campaign that have allowed me to get this far. As we all know, there is much that needs to be accomplished, because it’s plain to see that our country is facing its darkest hour. Right now at this very instant, thousands of miles from where we stand, young Americans are dying horrible deaths in vain. Lives that were destined for great things that would only further this great land are being wasted, and all for a war that has no point.”
“My own son is still recovering from his tour last year. He fought bravely, no doubt, but to what avail? He can no longer walk, and he now suffers from PTSD as well. To hear my own son screaming in the middle of the night, to see him shaking uncontrollably, it tears me apart. Especially since, he was destined for so much more. I had to watch his dreams burn down to the ground because of this war that, according to those in power, is for our benefit. The government continues to try to lie its way out of the current situation, trying to make it appear as though everything is all right. How much longer can we allow ourselves to be deceived? I say, NO LONGER!!”
The crowds cheered deafeningly, and the press assembled before Venloran clapped right along with them.
“Our government has let us down, and the onslaught of riots has only led to further the pain and suffering. More money now goes to our prisons than toward the education of our children! That’s not progress! If we want our country to rise to its once magnificent and undisputed glory, we must change tactics. We can end the war and eradicate the poverty that has crippled us like a disease, but we must unite, my friends. It is our sole chance for salvation.”
“My party, the United Nation Republic, acknowledges what the present establishment refuses to admit: the challenge we now face is the very stability of our nation. The world used to look up to us as the land of opportunity. President Howard’s International Exclusion Act has crippled our global affairs while outsourcing by the wealthy has grown out of control. Now these same allies look on as we crumble. We will not allow it! This great land has been through its share of hardships and we will march through this one hand-in-hand as well, that, I promise you! Together, we will once again show what we are capable of; we will remind them of who we are.”
“I believe there is only one solution. Our politicians have become part of a corrupt system. They can no longer be trusted with the will of the people. My party has the clear motivation and understanding of our resolution. I am here today because I want to bring change, and my campaign assures that I will put the people and our beloved United States first. I will put an end to this war, to this poverty, and to all this deception!”
***
April 4, 2065 Oval Office, Washington, D.C.
“Yes, that was one of my biggest events at the time. Kearney and I worked on it together for months before getting the tone just right.”
Seated in front of the red-brown desk was the journalist setting up his note pad and recording app.
“I was there twenty years ago, Chancellor,” he assured, “that speech was just the first step in changing history. I realize how lucky I am just to have an audience with you.”
He was right. The Oval Office had become an exhibit in a mausoleum. To be in this forgotten room with all its trinkets from the past was a gracious experience. Oswald even spotted the old flag, a flag that now represented only but a piece of this country.
“Humility is an essential trait, Mr. Oswald, but I am admittedly, an aficionado of your work. Reporter to anchorman, and a writer on the side. Your show The Essential Globe is also doing quite well. You are evidence that a man has no boundaries except the ones he sets upon himself.”
“Thank you, sir. Let’s get started, shall we? Now the next section of my book focuses on your policies that have received some negative reception around the world. While here in the UNR your approval ratings are still spectacularly high, there have been a few setbacks. I think we can all agree The Expansion more than anything contributed to that. To this day, the UN Headquarters in New York is shut down indefinitely thanks to Prime Minister Charles and Secretary General Vanzetti. What are your thoughts on that matter?”
Venloran had a somber look on his face. His tone sounded to Oswald like the words of a man who’d lost something dear to him.
“A defeat that I could have done without. While it is true that the war cost us many allies, we gained new ones, and more importantly, we strengthened our nation. I am well aware that many out there still expect me to deliver a sudden referendum on my decision, or better yet, express how I was acting without the ‘consent of God’ but that day is never coming. ”
“That’s something I’ve pondered myself if you don’t mind me asking Chancellor.”
“Go on, shoot.”
“Well, many have been curious about your faith. It’s something you consistently stay away from addressing.”
“I follow but one thing in my life, Oswald, and that is the will to power. It is the inner component of man that drove us to build skyscrapers. That’s why I have always stood by my decisions and will continue to do so.”
“And we’re all glad for that, Chancellor,” Oswald said.
***
April 4, 2065 – Glaucon National Public Youth Facility, Washington, D.C.
The professor watched as the children entered her classroom. The class of thirty students was a mixed group, not just due to ethnicity, but varying ages as well. This was a high-level philosophy and reasoning course, a class normally aimed toward students around the age fifteen. However, she knew there were many younger students who were excelling rapidly, the best example being twelve-year-old, curly-haired Joel. It always brought a smile to her face.
She’d been teaching for almost thirty years, more than half of that time spent here at this building. Even though she was past fifty, she hardly showed it. Her lavish brunette hair rested on her slender shoulders, and her apricot skin still appeared tantalizing. Her black suit gave her the presence of a businesswoman, and her red lips cast an aura of sensuality. All the students stood to the left of their desk before saying in unison:
“Good morning Mrs. Venloran.”
“Hello, class, you may be seated.”
In their neat and crisp standard uniforms, they took their seats. The lights in the classrooms dimmed into blackness as the shutters also began to close.
“Ma’am, I was hoping you could look at my research paper after class,” Joel said.
“Of course, Joel. How’s your brother doing?”
“He graduated early. He even got accepted at the UNR Special Tasks Force.”
“Wow, that’s great news. I believe he must be the youngest man ever accepted to that post.”
“If I take summer courses I can get ahead a little like him.”
“Are you sure you want to sacrifice your entire summer? Maybe you should think it over a little.”
Joel paused for a moment.
“Okay, I will.”
The classroom had grown as dark as a theater, the children settling into silence. The projection unit on the ceiling activated, and a brilliant flash of light began to take form. A hologram of a painting appeared, large enough to block the view of Mrs. Venloran’s desk. The image detailed a cavern of sorts, with many people contained within its dark confines. There was though, a tunnel from which daylight shined in. At the rear of the tunnel, many people cowered in the darkness, despite the efforts of others welcoming the folks to step outside and join them in the light.
“What do you all think?” Professor Venloran asked, “Consider this an open discussion.”
One of the older children near the back raised her hand.
“Yes, Sara?”
“It’s known as Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, ma’am.”
“Yes, by Jan Saenredam, very good, but can you interpret it for me?”
“I believe the people inside the darkness of the cave represent ignorance, while those outside are offering knowledge.”
“Yes, this beautiful work of art is a symbol of Plato’s teachings: the nature of human intellect and how it can be of benefit if we harness it. Otherwise, shunning it, we doom ourselves to live in perpetual blindness. We use our logic to discern, for example, the nature of justice and morality. To claim religion is the dominant source of morality is an absurd concept, and this ties in with morality itself. Can anyone tell me why?”
To her delight, she saw his hand rise.
“Go ahead, Joel.”
“Because religion and morality were both created by us. Old religions have died, new ones have surfaced, and the same goes for morals.”
“Excellent, remember that deciding what is right and what is wrong depends solely on the individual.”
***
The professor kept her jacket collar up in the freezing winds, the red cotton doing what it could. Her suitcase full of lesson plans was somewhat hefty. She was careful about her footing as she walked down the steps of the magnificent school. A black limousine arrived, followed by two UNR Humvees. Her heart pounded just as rapidly as it had all those years ago when she’d first met the man emerging from the door. She embraced her husband, the Chancellor tightly, planting a soft kiss upon his lips.
“I tried to be fashionably late, but Kearney insisted I be punctual.”
“Oh did he now Carl?” she laughed, “I guess he knows better than you about my bad side.”
The Chancellor smiled as he watched her hair blow in the passing wind.
“Come on, we’ll get something warm to drink.”
He held the door open for her before entering himself. Inside was another world, smothered in glorious warmth. Seated on the Corinthian leather across from the couple was Kearney, who looked up from his laptop.
“Janet, I see you’re looking lovely today.”
“Thank you, how’s Anthony doing?”
“We’re doing good, thinking of maybe getting a two-story.”
“But your house is so nice,” she insisted, “I’d really miss the place.”
“He’s persistent about it,” Kearney said.
The limousine veered away, the Humvees following close behind.
“A whole two weeks off, honey. What do you have planned?” Venloran asked.
“I promised Mother I’d visit her, and after that I suppose lounge around. Maybe get some reading done.”
“And here I thought you were on vacation.”
“There are just so many bright minds in my classroom. I really hate leaving them in the middle of the semester.”
“They’ll be fine. I was thinking of going for a hike. Care to join me?”
Venloran gazed at her as if this was the first date, and while she admired the gesture so very, very much, she still had to ask.
“You sure you wouldn’t prefer your office at the HQ? You spend more time there than you do anywhere.”
“Honey, I’m serious. It’d be nice don’t you think?” Both found themselves attentive, Janet holding her husband’s hand tightly, he doing the same.
“Sir,” Kearney interrupted, looking away from his work yet again.
“What is it?”
“Kane reports they’re on route back to the UNR. They’ve brought back captives as well.”
Chapter 3 – People Skills
April 4, 2065 – UNR Defense Headquarters, Washington, D.C.
Where the Pentagon was once located, now stood a building of epic scale: the UNR Defense Headquarters. Well over fifty stories tall, the structure retained its former appearance at the base, but arising from what was left of the legendary building could only be described as a tower: a tower overlooking the city all around it, silent, yet always watching. It was here in this tower that the new government set up its base of operations, primarily an investigative bureau.
Colonel Husan sat patiently in the interrogation room, mouth dry and hands sweating. He had known this day was coming, ever since his regiment had gotten involved in the efforts against the superpower. He knew eventually something would lead back to them, and now, unfortunately, he saw how right he had been. From the body bags he’d seen on the plane ride to the UNR, he estimated that three of his men were already dead. Possibly, more, he just didn’t know yet.
A countless number of his soldiers would probably die in this
hellhole, tortured to death for treason. He had always spoken so nobly to them about their missions and the grandiose objective they were helping to achieve. Having been given very few details about their secret allies, Husan was surprised at how well his men took their orders. They were eager to fight in the shadows, but now their endurance would really be put to the test. Colonel Husan was no exception, with his own hands cuffed closely together. Speak of the devil, he thought, as Kane walked in throwing his coat on the cold steel table. He sat down at the opposite end.
“Husan, glad you could join us,” he said with a smile. Luis stepped into the room as well.
“I believe you two have already met,” he added, seeing the colonel stare at the cyborg for a minute. The soldier stood next to his superior.
“What do you have to say?” Husan asked, sick of Kane’s voice already.
“Come now, Colonel. Let’s not waste valuable time. The evidence is mounting against you. Every member of your base, every man and woman under your command, will be questioned.”
“Your allegations will not hold,” Husan said.
“How long are you going to continue to play these games? If you’re stalling for time, hoping the UN will step in on your behalf, you’re mistaken. They are as of yet silent. Have no doubt, at this point it’s your life at stake, all for the sake of a simple question.”
The colonel looked away, not surprised by the threat. He then looked back at Kane with a seemingly undaunted face. He chose to remain silent.
“I see. You’ve only worsened the situation, Colonel. Bring him in.”
In stepped two UNR soldiers. They wore armor similar to the cyborgs, but without the overcoat and much lighter. Despite being garbed in the same black, Husan paid them no mind, as they were nothing compared to the monstrous imitations of men. Then he noticed who they had with them – one of his soldiers, Izzat Allawi. He was young, and from his badly wounded arm, Husan could tell he’d obviously been one of the ones who’d disobeyed his orders concerning laying low. And now he’s definitely paid the price, thought the colonel. If only they’d listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this mess. The colonel felt anger when he considered that aspect of it all, but it was too late now. Kane interrupted his thoughts.
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