The Dead Planet Series: Exodus (Book 1)
Page 11
Chapter 10
I watched the image illuminating off the wall from Thom's media device. The mob in the square had grown larger as the initial winners of the lottery were about to be named. Pontiff White was now standing stoically, high upon a platform in the middle of the square protected by a clear acrylic booth. His voice was amplified through a speaker system that circled around the square and the transmission was picked up by the media crew and sent out to the general population. He stood tall amongst the citizens, dressed in a dark burgundy double breasted suit. His light brown hair was slicked back with tufts of gray that appeared on his temples. He looked like a modern day king, royalty who graced the peasants of the land with his presence; he was a king leading the blind to their deaths.
The amplifiers squealed as the microphone was switched on. The speakers were turned up so loud that you could hear each exhale of his breath. I could see the people in the square press their hands up to their ears until the squelching sound subsided. Pontiff White never even flinched; instead he just looked out over the crowd with his jaw set, unmoving like a statue.
The crowd soon erupted into another outraged boycott of the Syndicate's pending lottery. Shouts resounded through the square, even on screen I could see how the sound shook the windows in the nearby buildings as Pontiff White stood quiet. His resolve was unshaken by the mob, but I could see as he clinched the podium with white knuckled hands, the only visible sign of the distress that he was going through. It took several moments for the crowd to die down enough for his words to be heard. A hush was carried through the square that could be heard by viewers worldwide. The same hush quieted even the rambling thoughts in my own head.
"Attention, citizens," he said in a booming amplified voice. "It is with great solemnity that I come to you today to report that which you citizens have come together to protest, and to verify the fact that a lottery is indeed in place. The winners chosen are to be transported back to Earth. You may be wondering why this is necessary, and I wish to answer that question to the best of my ability. Recently it has come to the attention of the Syndicate that our artificial electro-magnetic field is in danger of failing. It is not just a possibility, but the danger is imminent. Its rate of decline is the result of the nuclear power generator that powers it. We do not have a supply of enriched uranium on hand to maintain the generator and that puts our planet at risk. What short supply we do have has already been used to power the generator, but sadly it is being used up too quickly. The core is used up at a much higher rate than it was originally designed to do.
"The Syndicate and I are dedicated to preserving humanity by any means necessary. The lottery will be used to dictate the order in which all people will be transferred back to planet Earth. It is in your best interest to be patient with us as methods are put in place to ensure the survival of everyone. The early results of the lottery will be released after this speech and the transports back to Earth will be underway by the end of the week. I ask that everyone remain patient so that this exodus can occur as seamless as possible. Your cooperation in this matter is critical.
"I know that many of you are concerned with the quality of life that you will inherit once you return to Earth. I share that concern with you. It is true that none of us have personally seen the conditions in which we are returning, but based on the previous expedition to Earth many years ago, it is clear that we will not be the only humans on the planet. It is also apparent that Earth has experienced many hardships over the past several centuries; they have suffered much more so than we have here on Mars and that will affect our quality of living on a considerable level. The natural resources of Earth have grown scarce and I believe that the humans of Earth will benefit greatly from our advanced technological resources. We will all experience a hard adjustment period, but all is not lost. This will be both an exodus and a reunion of sorts. It is important that we depart from our home with an attitude of unity, that communion between us and our brothers and sisters of Earth will make the biggest impact in the life that we will experience in the near future.
"I just want to remind you that the lottery results for tonight are only the initial list. Many more names will follow in the days, weeks, and months ahead. I encourage each of you to remain calm and allow the Syndicate to care for your needs as it always has. Thank you for your time and good night."
Pontiff White's words seemed to be a comfort to the crowd in the square. Perhaps because they were not privy to the information that I was. They did not know that only a fraction of the people on Mars would be returned to Earth. Their ignorance would be a welcomed relief that they did not know existed. For the rest of humanity, all hope was lost. Those left behind would die and the Syndicate did not care. This lottery dictated who would live and who would die. It was a form of population control that had never been experienced in our Martian history.
The image of the Pontiff was replaced by a scrolling list of names. There were thousands of names that repeated every ten minutes or so. Each name on the list correlated with a corporate leader. Big money bought them a position onto the transports heading back to Earth. They were the elite, bred to rule and to live on despite whom died in their stead. It figured, why save the people who have nothing to lose? Why should you care about another human life that did not immediately affect your own life? I watched the names scroll for over an hour. I could feel my heart fill with anger as my resolve to bring the Syndicate down was strengthened by this total disregard for human life. Alliance or not, I would see vindication for those who would be lost. It did not matter whether I killed one or all of the members of the Syndicate. Retribution would be made, I swore to myself.
Kara watched the image and I could see the expression of dread swell upon her face by not seeing her name on the list. The reality of having a hit on her head did not seem to bother her near as much as the realization that she would be left to inherit whatever death was surely around the horizon. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, trying to offer whatever comfort she might find by the gesture.
"There is something you need to know about the lottery," I said aloud. Thom and Kara both looked at me. "It is rigged. When I went and spoke with Pontiff White he told me the Syndicates plan for returning to Earth. Only twenty or thirty percent of the people on this planet will be transported back. The rest will die when our atmosphere dies, however long that takes after the magnetic field collapses. This lottery is just a ploy that will allow them to save themselves while they quiet the mob that’s brewing."
"They will just leave a majority of its citizens to die?" Thom asked with exasperation.
"Yes they will," I said coldly. "They will only save those whom they have something to gain by saving. Most of us have nothing to offer them. The Syndicate will first seek self preservation and then they will save people based on what will be most beneficial for them as they build a new society." Those words sounded monstrous. How could a person or group of people not value human life more than that?
The reality of our dire situation was making me nauseous. My emotions were on edge, from the stress of my nightmare and the anxiety associated with the false hope that was deified behind the lottery. I could feel a new emotion begin to well up deep within my body. It was an emotion that had been severed during my programming as I underwent training with the Agency. The most motivating emotion in any man's arsenal. That one emotion that draws the most motivation out of a man who was hell bent for his cause, an emotion that spews forth like a volcano erupting fire and raining death upon his enemies. That emotion that felt like a pain that was both dreadful and satisfying. That emotion was hate, and it was growing.