by Lars Teeney
Graham’s motorcade wound up old Pennsylvania Avenue toward the Ministry of Defense. He was on his way to meet with Keir Schrubb in an effort to persuade him to use his forces to take power. It was quite the gamble, but meaning that they had been life-long friends, and he knew that Keir’s hubris knew no bounds, Graham thought it likely to pay off. But, Graham also knew it could go horribly wrong. He didn’t know how much the Regime and Church knew after the battle at the Mothball fleet had taken place. He was flying blind.
The motorcade came upon the Ministry of Defense and was directed to drive around to the diplomat’s entrance, a protected steel and concrete bay, that twisted down into a sub-basement level. The vehicles came to a stop in an area of a drab, gray monochromatic scheme. A sizable lift was waiting adjacent to the parked vehicles. Graham and his entourage entered the lift, which ferried them up countless levels to the receiving hall. The lift doors opened to let everyone spill out to be met by awaiting ministry officials.
“Welcome, Mr. Wynham. Please wait for the Minister here. Feel free to enjoy our drink and refreshments,” the official gestured over to a decanter of brandy and various unappetizing bits of cold cuts and old cheeses. Graham decided to pour himself some brandy. He took a sip and stared up at a massive portrait of Keir’s father, John W. Schrubb in his younger days. It must have been a painting from the early Twenty-first century. The face wore an asymmetrical smile. Graham thought it looked insincere.
On the opposite side of the hall, directly aligned with the father’s portrait, another portrait was Keir’s own. It was that of a military conqueror, Keir was in full parade uniform, mounted on a horse, which was rearing back. In Keir’s hand was a glowing cross. An ethereal image of the busts of Jesus and the Reverend flanked Keir’s image, both being slightly transparent. The portrait spoke volumes about Keir’s opinion of himself. Graham chuckled under his breath as he viewed the portrait. He walked parallel to the wall further. There was a sign that painting had once hung here but had been taken down some time ago. Graham deduced that it must have been Kate’s portrait. It made sense.
Graham came upon a towering bookcase and perused some of the titles. Clearly they weren’t books that Keir ever read. Mostly likely an employee of the ministry kept them. Some of the titles he spied were “The Art of War” by Tsun Tzu, “Julian” by Gore Vidal, and “The Persian Expedition” by Xenophon. Someone had a taste for history and historical fiction he had thought. It was an interesting collection of books, far more interesting than the surrounding decor. Graham took another sip of his brandy. Keir certainly had a way of making folks wait. It didn’t usually take him this long. At long last, huge double doors opened that lead to the inner chambers and offices. A porter told Graham to follow him. The porter led him through empty office space and rooms that hadn’t been touched in quite a while. Graham was puzzled, where were all the Ministry employees? It was a huge ministry with a monster budget, it couldn’t possibly function without all its employees. That worried Graham.
“If Keir’s ministry is totally crippled, how will he help my plan?” Graham asked himself worriedly.
He continued to follow the porter into a rear chamber thought a row of empty offices. The porter opened the door and there was Keir Schrubb, in a plush, living area with a theater module, massive sofa, and a jacuzzi on the far side of the chamber. Near a kitchen area was a sizable catering table, filled to the brim with hotplates and trays of h’orderves. The hotplates contained breakfast and lunch items, scrambled eggs and cheese with breakfast links, sautéed with onion, French toast and maple syrup, and eggs Benedict with black forest ham, and roasted potatoes. The lunch hotplates contained various hot deli sandwiches, racks of lamb, and asparagus served with a cream sauce. There were also various barbecue items to be had. Graham was very impressed and confused as to what the occasion was. It appeared that Keir Schrubb and family had been at this for a while.
“Graham! Come in, come in! It’s a Schrubb family party in here. Please, come get some food make yourself at home!” Keir Schrubb demanded, gesturing for him to sit down.
“Wow, Keir, what’s the occasion?” Graham had asked. He passed up the food and went straight to the full bar included in the space. He poured himself a scotch.
“Graham, my friend, the Second Coming is upon us. Might as well enjoy the time you have left in this world! Join in my friend, the whole family is here,” Keir gestured for his two children to approach.
“Say ‘hi’ to Mr. Graham, kids!” His two offspring approached.
“Ahoy Mr. Graham. Are you a pirate? You look like a butt-pirate!” Jimmy Schrubb exclaimed. He was wearing a costume pirate hat and toy scimitar. He laughed for a minute, then turned and ran away.
“Gwaham!” Jackie Schrubb had screeched, she put her hand up to shake his hand, which he did, and he felt something moist and sticky in her hand. Most likely snot. She turned away and ran manically back to the mountain of toys in the middle of the room.
Graham had thought they weren’t necessarily evil people. They were just ignorant and had no curiosity about the world around them. And he couldn’t necessarily fault them for that, after all if he hadn’t done ‘Database’ and subsequently traveled undercover he’d have never known the real plight of the world. Graham would have been just another insulated Regime elite, existing in a bubble until the Second Coming occurred.
Graham pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the fluid off his hand, then he took a sip of his scotch.
“Adorable kids you have there, Keir. Last time I saw them they were babies,” Graham said.
“Hey, ‘hun, come on over, say hello to Graham,” Keir instructed.
“Hi Graham,” She looked heavily distracted like she was elsewhere mentally. Graham surmised that she had just finished a dose of ‘Database’ and she was having residual visions.
“They are really pulling out the stops here. Celebrating with ministry funds no doubt,” Graham had thought.
“Hey Keir, Where’s all the ministry workers? The building is empty,” Graham inquired.
‘I told them to go home, be with their families and prepare for the B.A.G. They aren’t needed here now!” Keir proclaimed.
“But, Keir, the Apostates are still out there, plotting. Your ministry should be hunting them down,” Graham suggested.
“Are you telling me I don’t know how to run my own ministry?” Keir looked agitated.
“Of course not, just reminding you there is still danger out there, even this close to the B.A.G.,” Graham placated.
Keir poured himself a drink and took a seat on the large, plush sofa in the middle of the space. He smiled again.
“I still have all armed forces on activation. All defensive capabilities of the Regime are in place. I just sent the paper pushers home. Who needs ‘em? We are warriors here,” Keir proudly announced.
“What matters now is spending time with family. Being with the ones we love in the time we have left,” Keir gestured to his ilk.
The man did love his poor, dumb family, genuinely. All he was doing is what he thought was his duty. He didn’t really have the intellectual capacity to know any better. Even though Keir had aspirations to replace his father, he still followed the system his father put into place to the letter. He didn’t have his own ideas or vision. He was a product; an invention of his father’s system. Even if Keir would somehow stop the Second Coming and rule like a strong man, he wouldn’t actually be running things. Other ambitious and subtle individuals would rule from behind the scenes. Graham hypothesized that he would probably end up being assassinated. Which is the reason why Graham was attempting to manipulate Keir into supporting his stratagem.
“Tell me, Graham, why aren’t you with your family in this time of celebration? The world is going to end soon,” Keir probed.
“We aren’t as tight knit as your family. They like to do their own thing,” Graham fabricated.
“I’d just think that you’d want to get as much time as possible with them,”
Keir suggested.
Graham had missed his family for quite a while now. The comment unusually affected him. Years earlier he had smuggled them overseas. He wondered what they had been doing. His children were both born in the same year. Graham, periodically, communicated to his wife through anonymous, encrypted messages. His wife was part of the Neo Railroad. That is all he knew about her current activities, that she helped smuggle refugees overseas. He wondered if he would see her after all this was concluded.
“Yes, well, you know how families are.” Graham tried to change the subject.
“You’ve been a lonely man, Graham, working all the time. No rest for the wicked, eh?” Keir said sarcastically.
“Something like that. You know it takes much effort to keep your organization armed so they can do their jobs,” Graham retorted.
“Yes, it does. M.O.D. thanks you for your service,” Keir admitted.
“And with all this unfinished business, we need to stay especially vigilant,” Graham added.
“You’re right there, old friend. But I ain’t gonna let that spoil my time left here. Take a load off!” Keir commanded, he took a swig of his drink and laughed.
“Actually, Keir, there is something I would like to discuss with you in private. Do you have some place we can speak?” Graham asked curiously.
“We are in private, Graham, it’s just me and my family! They don’t really pay attention anyway, they have their distractions,” Keir gestured over to his family. His kids were smashing plastic toys into one another and throwing the broken pieces at each other. His wife laid back on the end of the couch with eyes rolled up into her head, muttering something about “The Kardashians”. For some reason, the room was littered with tangible media from the early Twenty-first century even though all of this information was archived on the [Virtue-net], unrestricted for high-level Regime officials. There was a video game console attached to the media center, gossip magazines on the central table, media disks from that time period. They emulated the nuclear family before the creation of the [Virtue-net].
“Can we at least step over to the bar and get some refills?” Graham suggested.
“Sure, Graham, be my guest,” Keir said.
They walked over to the marble-topped bar. Keir walked behind the bar and pulled two chilled beer steins from a miniature refrigerator and planted them on the surface of the bar.
“What’ll it be? Keir asked, fingering a beer tap.
“Let’s see, I’ll take a pilsner,” Graham stated.
Keir put both steins under beer taps, he pulled a pilsner pint for Graham and poured himself a chocolate stout. Keir slid the pint in Graham’s direction. Graham caught it in front of him. Keir gestured for a toast. Graham reciprocated bringing his stein up to meet Keir’s stein.
“To the glorious everlasting life the Lord has given us!” Keir proclaimed.
Graham made contact with the stein. This was slightly troubling. Keir had always played the Regime game, but he had never been never a religious nut. This revelation could complicate his plan, he had thought to back out, but the Apostates were depending on his plan moving forward. He wrestled with this decision for several seconds until Keir broke the silence once more.
“I’m going to miss the taste of beer. The Lord better have some mighty fine breweries up there in Heaven Land!” Keir jested.
“It would certainly make eternity a bit more tolerable, that’s for sure,” Graham returned the jest.
“Alright Graham, so let’s have it. What’s on your mind?” Keir probed.
“Keir, remember we had a discussion awhile back about your father and sister?” Graham asked. Attempting to steer the conversation in the direction of his plan.
“Yeah, I think I remember something about that. What about it?” Keir asked with slight irritation.
“Well, do you still feel that way? Still have the desire to lead?” Graham asked.
“Of course. But it ain’t going to go anywhere. We have what, a couple weeks until the Second Coming? Nah, I’ve given up on that.” Keir tried to bury his ambition.
“What about wanting to conquer other countries and creating an empire? You seemed pretty excited about that,” Graham suggested bait.
“An empire that will only last a couple weeks? How’s that gonna work?” Keir asked rhetorically.
“Why does it have to last a couple of weeks?” Graham was trying to be vague to guide him.
“Well, yeah, but if I did that it would mean, going against my father and the Reverend. Are you out of your mind? Jesus is coming back. How does that get stopped?” Keir was confused and released spittle as he spoke.
“Keir, I thought you didn’t really buy into the Church’s dogma? It may very well not happen, you’re aware there have been false prophets in the past,” Graham said, as he swallowed some beer.
Keir gave him a puzzled look. He downed the rest of his pint and then poured another one.
“If that’s the case...then why is everyone in the Regime getting ready for this event, like its bound to happen? Everybody is preparing. What happens if I’m left behind?” Keir was worried.
“Well, that’s a gamble you have to take. But, I see no signs that this is some divinely fueled event. It sounds like this will be a man-made event. I mean for God’s sake, man, look at all the resources that your father’s Regime is pouring into the B.A.G. If it was in God’s plan wouldn’t it happen organically? Without coercion?” Graham was treading on thin ice, talking heresy and treason.
“Wait, man. I’m not sure I like what you’re saying. We’re talking about my father; my family. I mean are you calling them crazy? Because that’s what this implies.” Keir was getting angry.
“No, Keir, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m sure they are competent individuals. They’d have to be to have accomplished so much. But, what if their religious beliefs are wrong? What if there is no afterlife the way they believe? You’d be sacrificing everything. The country, your right to rule, everything gone.” Graham felt he was on the verge of a breakthrough.
“Son of a bitch. Graham, you do make a good point. I’d be giving all that up. But still, what would I do? The entire country is expecting the world to end at the B.A.G. We’d have riots if it didn’t happen.” Keir was in way above his head, and Graham felt this was the point that he wanted Keir in, He had taken the bait, now all he needed to was lead him to shore.
“Keir, you’d have to assert you’re dominance. You need to move decisively and use the leverage of the armed forces to take the necessary actions,” Graham suggested.
“God damn, Graham. We’re talking treason and a coup, against my father and sister. Most likely we’d have to move against L.O.V.E and the Church! That’s a tall order. My family, dammit.” Keir was acting distraught.
‘Yeah, that’s the price of power, Keir. It all depends on how bad you want it. But, know I stand with you. Just tell me what you need. I mean think about it, we could save all the people, and they would be grateful subjects to their savior, Keir Schrubb!” Graham was really enjoying his performance now.
“I gotta hand it to you. You’re one convincing fellow. It’s a very tempting prospect, to take the reins of power. Not have to take shit from my family any more. Imagine that.” Keir was looking pensively out a window, into the distance when he said this. He took a drink of his beer.
“That’s right, plenty of possibilities. The sky is the limit,” Graham encouraged.
Keir stood silent for some time. He continued sipping his pint. He peered out the window, the only sounds were of some purple dinosaur on the monitor singing an obnoxious children’s song and of Keir’s kids fighting over toys and subsequently breaking them. Graham sat at the bar, feeling suspense while swirling his beer in its stein. Graham hoped that he had made the right call. Part of him wanted to leave the Ministry and get back to his motorcade. He felt conflicted. Keir was proving difficult to read.
“However, Graham, something is troubling me. I mean it is appealing, this
whole plot, but I think you may want it to happen more than I do.” Keir had an accusatory tone. He walked back around the bar and poured himself another pint.
“What? Don’t be absurd. I’m here just to provide you with support. This is about you, not me.” Graham tried to deflect the accusations. His leg fidgeted with agitation.
“Nope, I’m pretty sure it’s about you now, and your ambition to undermine the Church and Regime.” Keir was dead serious.
“This is crazy. I’ll let you get back to your family. Take it easy, Keir.” Graham cut the conversation short. He hopped off the barstool and walked away, heading towards the massive double doors at the entrance. He pulled out an unlit cigarette and let it hang from his mouth. Graham thought that the jig was up and he needed to make his exit, fast. He laid his hand on the door knob but felt it turn from the other side. The giant doors swung open, slowly. As they opened wider he could see two figures standing in the darkened corridor. The two shrouded figures took a few steps forward into the light. It was President John W. Schrubb. He was accompanied by Inquisitor Rodrigo, who looked to have bicycled over to the Ministry of Defense; clad in spandex cycling gear and a helmet. The President looked like a withered corpse dressed in a slim cut suit and skinny tie.
“Graham Wynham, I was best friends with your grandfather, and was close to your father, too. He and I accomplished great things together over the years. It was a shame when he passed away, a true loss. But, well, I am glad that he is not alive today. It would break his heart to see his son display such treachery,” John W. Schrubb said threateningly.
“There must be some mistake here. This was purely a social call. Keir and I were just reliving old times.” Graham tried to lie his way out. He removed the cigarette out of his mouth and took a step back.
“For being such a sophisticated subversive surely you must have known that L.O.V.E. monitors quarters and facilities of prominent officials of New Megiddo to keep them safe, from people such as yourself.” The Inquisitor relished this moment.