Back to Me and Jimmy’s Place
Me, Jimmy, Darkwing, and Novocaine were sitting around in the kitchen of my apartment talking about why we could never come back here again. The guardian Angels were reassembled through a new federal program. They were to formally join the new Peace Force comprised of police officers, military personnel and gang members. The new function of the Guardian Angels would be selling snacks and Starbucks to the new working class, who were imprisoned 70 hours a week apparently of their own free will. The general population did seem to embrace a new work ethic. Perhaps it was the new propaganda that stemmed out of nowhere over the past few years. From reality TV shows about specific CEO’s and their lackeys, to billboards with faces of the Fortune 500 executives, a tide was turning. This tide was so strong that even teenagers in the midst of rebellion embraced the qualities of the wealthy and over worked. They rebelled through drug use and violent beatings of the underclass, which most of them were a part of. The control was set so they could only think to beat each other down for what each other were. All TV shows, radio, and personal commentary were geared to the rich minority. They were referred to as The 20%.
The world of science experienced a renaissance which helped support these basic ideals tenfold. There was a revival in the study of Eugenics, which generalized human beings according to their personal traits. A new form of Eugenics was implemented and in a matter of months was hailed as "Man’s greatest modern achievement" of the new age. It was referred to as Modern Eugenics. This new form of science was a simple list of traits that "healthy" people possessed and a list of traits that "unhealthy" people possessed. A new genetic standard of human being was being mapped out according to this data. It was simplified in an expression called the 3Cs. Clean, Controlled and Competitive... the mark of true perfection.
Now, we knew it was a bunch of bullshit. Jimmy and Darkwing told us about the warped use of Eugenics during the Nazi regime and all of the horrible things that came about because of it. It had nothing to do with real Eugenics at all, but here it was establishing itself as certain fact.
Drugs were partially legalized and distributed by the Peace Force as well. Crack, cocaine, and speed were found to be beneficial for those who worked toward obtaining the 3Cs. Marijuana, heroin, and hallucinogens were strictly off limits because they worked against potential members of the 3Cs. Alcohol at the workplace was prohibited, but encouraged after work hours. It gave someone something to look forward to at the end of a slave day- I mean work day. People going to work with a hangover were also more likely to use drugs to make them feel better, which indirectly increased their work performance.
As Guardian Angels we were disgusted at this particular part of our changing society. Most of the drugs that we knew to destroy lives were now being embraced and advertized. The Guardian Angels who stayed on would be distributing them regularly now. There was only a half a dozen of us left besides me and Novocaine- the rest of the Angels owned TVs. Novocaine kidded with the others as they dropped off. I remember when a Guardian Angel named Squire told Novocaine he was changing sides. Novocaine just smiled and said, "Squire, you are the 33rd. You are the 33rd to leave and go off into the television. Make sure you send me a postcard now... sign it channel 33!" Squire, like the others, was so conditioned at that point that he nodded dryly and walked off.
We were all getting worried... there was no doubt about it. There were a lot of people disappearing around us, people besides former Guardian Angels. A lot of the homeless ceased to be visible on the streets anymore. It was like one by one they disappeared. Novocaine said, "I know a lot of people in this city but lately it seems more like I used to know people here. They’ve even moved the produce market inside. There’s no street venders no more. No old people sitting around drinking coffee. No kids out on the streets. I only see gang members and business men out there... and they all look tired! When’s the last time you saw a thug on the street looking tired?"
"You shouldn’t be strolling around out there Novocaine.", Darkwing broke in, "A lot of people are disappearing and its best you’re not one of them. Nobody’s out on the streets ‘cause whoever is noticed hanging around too long is taken." He looked over at Jimmy and then back at us, "We believe that the people taken are being killed or used for experimentation. Jimmy went into a trance the other day and pulled out some rough images. Tell them what you saw Jimmy."
"I saw everyone in the world at the same time. They were building a prison around themselves. In the part of the world where we live I saw huge rooms filled with machines. Outside of these rooms were countless other rooms, but those rooms became less completed as you went farther away from the machine rooms. In most of the rooms people were working on machines or building walls and bars around themselves. Some of the rooms had people strapped to tables. Some were being tortured with instruments, others with chemicals of some sort. Adjacent rooms were piled with corpses and limbs and there were workers in those rooms putting the body parts into a tubular vacuum system which was connected from machine to machine. There were also rooms of well dressed people standing and talking. Some were smiling and some were staring off with gaping expressions. The machines were connected to those rooms by the vacuum system and they produced a green liquid, which the people ingested casually. There were some open areas where people were roaming around sparsely. Many of them looked to be from primitive cultures and 3rd world situations. I saw some of them rounded up and brought to work on the prison, and some of them brought to the torture rooms...", then Jimmy stared off quietly for a moment. We were all quiet too. We knew just what he saw.
Darkwing looked over at Jimmy, "Have you heard from Tyrone?" Jimmy looked down and shrugged then replied, "No... Not for a month or so... and worrying about Tyrone is nothing new... he’s crazy in a way we may never know." Jimmy suddenly got a look in his eyes like he woke up, "There’s somebody else. There’s a woman I saw just for a second at the end of the vision. She looked totally deranged and she was crying and singing to a portrait on the wall of the guy in the gray hat. There was a band playing behind her and I saw a name on the drum kit. I think it said "The Replacements" or something. For a split second all I saw was the portrait of the man in the gray hat... and he had a blindfold on. Right then I snapped out of it." He looked at us sheepishly, "I can’t believe I didn’t remember that before!"
Novocaine spoke up, "I can find out where that band is if they still exist. There are still some people in hiding over here who are connected to the world." Darkwing jumped in, "I think we should all go. There’s no sense in separating with so few of us left." "Well," Said Novocaine, "I hope you’re in a talkative mood ‘cause those sewers are dark and I don’t have a flashlight." "That’s a good idea.", added Jimmy, "We’ll travel the sewers tonight... Nice going Novocaine."
The Sewers
It was dark and moist. The smell was just wrong. It crept into your nostrils and started shifting around your guts. Novocaine stopped for a second. He looked over the edge into the watery substances and puked. Then he looked back at us and said, "...and I don’t think that’s the last of it ya’ll... I musta lost a pound! If I keep this up I won’t have to give up fast food next month." "Stay away from fast food Novocaine... from now on.", Darkwing broke in, "they’re putting a mixture of stimulants in fast food to increase productivity in the workplace." "Cocaine in the fries, huh?", Novocaine replied, "What about the donuts? Do you think they messed with the donuts?" "I wouldn’t doubt it man. We’re going to have to grow some fresh vegetables if we’re going to keep from getting addicted.", Darkwing turned back and started leading the group. We didn’t have a flashlight so he had to hum to himself to keep his eyes lit up.
It was a hell of an experience walking through a dark murky sewer, listening to his low pitched song projecting through echoes down corridors. The light glow was just enough for us to keep our path along side the liquid river of piss and shit. The quiet, steady song put all of us in a trance making the overall experience very bearable. There were moments when I forgot the smell around me. Novocaine turned to puke several times but the melody around us changed up and it pulled him out of the stench and back onto the path. He still managed to puke a couple times for every mile we walked. I spewed a few times myself before we reached our first destination.
Novocaine lifted up the edge of the man hole cover just enough to see out from each angle. When the path was clear we helped him up, which wasn’t an easy feat. He disappeared into a project across the street. I felt a touch of jealousy knowing that he could breathe in fresh air for a few minutes. It would be too dangerous for the rest of us to go with him. The gangsters and the police patrolled the streets now.
Novocaine returned 20 minutes later with a wreck of a woman who called herself Danny. She was homeless and looked like maybe she was a crack addict, but from the looks of her arms and legs and even her neck, I could tell it was heroin. She had dozens of track marks all over those areas. We helped her through the manhole gently, ‘cause the bones beneath her skin didn’t look like they had a lot of support holding her.
Novocaine told us that whoever used to live in those apartments was gone now. When he walked in they were practically empty and then he noticed Danny in the corner of a room. "She was shaking and talking to herself and I wasn’t sure what to say to her, so I asked her if she had seen any good concerts lately and she said... Ha, ha..., and she said,
‘Music is dead... except for the Replacement System... and I’m going to find the Replacement System... and I’m going to help them to help The Man help himself to Hell, so help me Ra... so help me God... so help me. Help me.’
Then she asked me if I was holding and I said, ‘No but me and my friends are trying to find the Replacement System also. We’re traveling through the sewers and if you don’t mind the stink you can come along, but we don’t know where we’re going just yet.’"Just then Danny interrupted and said, "Then I said, ‘All you have to do to find them is walk blindly- because they travel from place to place, but anyone who wants to find them finds them. Well...except for The Man- ‘cause he don’t understand." After she finished her sentence Danny pulled out a flashlight and started walking so we followed her.
Strange Ways of Danny
We had been walking with our new guest for a couple hours and she wasn’t silent for any of it. She went between mumbling quietly to herself, then raising her voice a little when directing something toward us. Mostly she mumbled to herself as she walked along. "I need some junk cause I’m dying... I swear I’m dying. They didn’t kill me...why not? I’m killable. Free drugs but no hugs...they cost you extra." Then she looked back at us and raised her voice. "They killed my boy Ray. Goddamn government! Actually, think he was my brother and I miss him" Dolly went on to herself
"What do you want to know about a demon whore for? She was a plain ole’ Jane to me...well, maybe not plain but...Goddamn walls were shaking like they never shook before- I was trippin’ balls! Oh hell, I’m still tripping. Goddamn Man has us in the sewer... at least I’m with the A team."
Then she blurted out, "Where’s Face?" Danny moved her head mechanically and went on and on to herself, "The Man sounds like a goddamn bird... but he can’t fly. He can squawk, I’ll give him that, but no... if I connect the dots on my body in just the right way, I’ll have a map to that sonovabitch, and then I’ll find him. I’ll find him then... I’ll find him then... I’ll probably cry... ask him why... I’d cry and ask him why." She turned her head and said quite matter of factly, "I’d like to kill, but I have to cry." She was quiet after that- for a few minutes.
I didn’t know if she was totally nuts or if there was a version of everything she said that actually happened to her. She looked like she had been a street bum all her life, in her rags and partially dreaded hair. Who knew if we were going to find anything at all? Darkwing and Jimmy didn’t question what we were doing. They just walked along purposefully, following the path that Danny was making as she mumbled conversation. Then we heard the music.
Pat’s Replacement System
We followed the music down the corridors until it seemed to be right over us. It was like the blues being filtered through a prism, but it was slightly distorted. I thought that this would be what music sounds like to someone just entering a mental collapse, but maybe that’s because of the voice singing. It sounded like a man’s voice but sometimes it would break into female undertones, and then it would sound like a middle aged woman weeping... only to abruptly change into an authoritarian male drone. We stood below a manhole cover listening, ‘cause that’s where the sound came through strongest. A big smile appeared on Danny’s face as if she discovered something valuable. They all stared up at the manhole cover for a whole song listening to the words spit out in a guttural moan,
"Did we ask for yet a bullet for the head
a blood bathed moon above a crowded street
several severed heads on tree trunk stands
with military brands stamped on their feet
have we asked for yet another Khmer Rouge
desecrated bodies served upon plates
hundreds of souls crying for bread
and countless others laughing at games...
War fate for infants being bought and sold
for passes to places where parents can’t go
have we asked for yet, what I believe
to be death in a dream on a road?.."
I looked over at Jimmy and asked him if it sounded anything like the woman in his vision. He said, "Well, kind of. I think music sounds a little dreamier in dreams..." The song went on,
"Have we emptied baskets filled with disease only to reinvent them again?
Then send them out past the border at night to blow with the dust in the wind
have we asked for yet the cold kiss of death with our warm bodies shared for esteem or the crippling remarks of fake tarot cards and the effect they have on the dream?.."
"Ya hear that? Goddamn, death in a dream! I could go for some dream right now.", Danny’s voice was shaking. She was itching her arms also , and I could almost swear that the tiny holes in her arms looked like little mouths opening and closing. "Did you hear that goddamn music? It’s beautiful!", she cried out. At that very moment Danny lurched back flailing into Novocaine’s arms. She was twitching violently and Novocaine sat down against the wall cradling her. The holes in her arms were spitting out junk. There was no doubt about it. Her veins looked thick and ripe through her skin, and they would suddenly vibrate before releasing fluid through the widened holes. Novocaine’s own arms were wet with it. His eyes were staring down at her and he didn’t dare move. We heard the voice from above attacking again,
"Was the hypocrite song played too long
and repeated too much on the street?
In a world disguised behind cold eyes
warm fingers and soft feet
electronic mice following sons who once believed in the day
aside from pleasures taken for granted and sent in a way to betray
have we asked for yet, have you been here long
did you think about running for food?
And what will you do when you get what you want and you die...
A stranger refused!"
Danny stopped twitching just as the music came to a violent stop. She looked around and then up at Novocaine and said, "Thank you so much. I have no idea what happened. I feel really weird. I bet you feel weird." Novocaine just stared at her for a second and Danny gave him a big goofy smile, then started to get up. Novocaine snapped out of it and helped her after a second. He said, "You really liked that song! I could tell. I bet it’s not every song that makes you writhe around squirting drugs all over the place!" Danny just said "No"...with a blush.
I wasn’t surprised that what happened to Danny actually happened. The music was obviously magic of some sort... or something like it. It was strange enough how we found this place. The logic that I grew up with was now obsolete. If I had gone on living the way I had been before, I’d be a slave to the world around me, working myself into oblivion. I’d be addicted to drugs, TV, and work with no idea of the reality of my situation. This "reality of my situation" was not completely clear by any means. I could only guess at what was going on, but my awareness of each hour was much more defined than ever before.
We entered up through the manhole one by one starting with Novocaine. It led into the corner of a big warehouse and there were people there on the other side to help us up. They greeted us with gestures because it was impossible to hear with the music around. The floor was packed with people standing shoulder to shoulder, so that there was only room for them to bob their heads to the beat. I felt a steady stream of energy running through me, probably penetrating everyone in the entire room. Everyone’s attention was fixed on the stage, most likely on the strange woman at the center of it. She definitely looked deranged just staring straight ahead with a glazed, electric look in her eyes. Her voice was very masculine and more deep than you would ever imagine on a woman of her size. She couldn’t have been more than 5 foot 7", and she couldn’t have weighed more than 130 pounds. She was wearing what looked like a standard semi-formal dress. Something a secretary or a school teacher would wear, although it was a bit ragged. Her knuckles were white from squeezing the microphone stand as she moaned,
"We get sad, we survive, we wake up in the alley and cry
we throw stones, and break bones, and sing songs to keep from feeling alone
we rise up and push down on those we sometimes care about
then sink to the bottom feeling rotten and frown
a last chance we all believe and emotions turn like the sea
until new friends are found we seethe making our list of enemies
we add it up and call for war trying to kill the bitch or score
we fuck and fight it’s all the same and we deny it all in vain
why she needs her medication
why she needs her medication
a helpless stare a friendly glance the wet feeling of pleasure’s trance
the warm glow of a good face with soft words to ease the mental quakes
why she needs her medication..."
Then she grabbed her head as tears flowed out of her eyes. Just bass and slight drums were playing and you could hear her talking mostly to herself. "Why she needs her medication...She needs it. Yeah, she needs it... She loves it so much... time to forget... the people that are left...It’s like everywhere I go... I’m walking past piles of people pretending not to be dead." Then the guitars started rolling in and she snapped out of it and started singing again,
"We work through time for comfort and lies
trying to fit in for the eye of the times
a new car, TV... the right look
Hide the family- I’m immortal and obscene
with my head below the edge of your last ax I breathe
we find time wasting it then lose it adding it up
through strange ideas we find the abuse we call love
our energy, our clockworks, our phony blacks and whites
our need for what’s right and our attraction toward crime...
Why she needs her medication
Why she needs her medication
Why I need an education
Is why she needs her medication"
The music changed into some lighter instrumental blues, and the singer walked over to the side of the stage and started drinking a beer. Danny rushed past me and through the crowd towards her. When she got there, she just plopped herself down beside her.
"Hi, my name’s Danny, what’s your’s?"
"I’m Pat, and I’m the town crier... because the end is near."
"That’s true!", Danny said, with a great big smile.
Then she fought her way back through the crowd just to tell me that the singer’s name was Pat. Then Danny made her way back through the crowd and sat down next to Pat again. From a distance I saw Pat hand Danny a beer and they both seemed to stare across the room ominously without talking. Well, it looked like Danny might have been mouthing something to herself.
Novocaine came up to me and said we were about to get some answers. I followed him to an open area surrounded by stacked up boxes in such a way that a poorly constructed room was achieved. Jimmy and Darkwing were sitting down with a couple of Guardian Angels who survived the brainwashing that took so many others. Their names were Annie and Jack, both female. Annie was a Navajo Indian, and Jack was black. I think they might have been just out of high school but I don’t remember. They both kind of isolated themselves from everyone except for each other.
I remember when Novocaine first introduced me to them. He said, "This is Annie and Jack. Both of these girls are in love but the only way I’ve seen them show affection for each other is by kicking each other’s asses!" I noticed them staring at him with cold death gangster stares, but he chided on as they approached him. "...and as you can tell, they love me too!" They were all over him. If he was anybody but Novocaine, he would have been in trouble. Of course, each swing was doomed to miss. After a minute, they broke out laughing and then they looked down with embarrassed looks on their faces because they had giggled a little bit accidentally.
Here they were, Annie and Jack, looking ever so serious as they nodded me over to a crate to sit on. There was a weight behind their eyes that wasn’t there before. They didn’t waste any time getting to business either. Annie spoke first, "The most important thing we’ve found so far is this band. They are called "The Replacement System" and so far gangs and police patrols haven’t been able to infiltrate any place where they happen to be playing at." Jack jumped in, "We’ve been at this location with the band for a week and dozens of people have admitted that they...were in the business of collecting non-conformers, as they call us, but the music drew them in." They just wandered toward it with their minds blank", Annie added, "and they said that after they could make out the words everything inside of them just screamed, and they collapsed on the floor crying..." Jack said, "Yeah, some of these people have brought people to rooms where they tortured them. Some of them have been forcing Others into sexual labor camps where they’re habitually raped by the 20% and a good portion of the working class." Annie continued, "A lot of people have killed themselves or have tried to kill themselves after first listening to The Replacement System. We’re developing a system of our own to look out for first time listeners. As strong as people’s reactions have been, we don’t think it’s possible for anyone who has heard this music to betray us." Then Jack, "If that was possible, none of us would be here now. There’s a world out there that’s out to crush us."
We talked for awhile about what was happening in the world around us. It didn’t seem to make sense that the most common and dominant mind set would support outright murder. People all over the world punished those who committed violent crimes, and they supported those that worked for peace, but then as if on cue we heard the Star Spangled Banner being played "Hendrix" style from the other room... It sunk in, in the name of self defense most of us DID support murder. If we thought it was justified we could allow for just about anything. We believed in revenge and we believed that evil had to be destroyed.
Behind solemn faces most men believed that a woman’s true purpose was to be sexually pleasing. Whether it meant being sweet, attractive, or quirky, the underlying purpose of women was to please men. Beyond their better judgement, this kernel rested in women as truth also. Many women didn’t agree with it, but they couldn’t stand to focus on it enough to change it. In this light the radical sex slavery program could be better understood. As the mind set strengthened, the opposing perceptions within it were weeded out, leaving just the basic primitive core of the belief. With women, bisexuality in the company of men was permitted- but not homosexuality. On the other hand, bisexuality in men was considered an abomination... on par with regular homosexuality. Men were not understood to be desired in such ways. They were workers, rulers, leaders. These were more than rules that people had to follow now. They were hardened beliefs in the hearts and minds of a huge majority of us. That is why people "wanted" to work themselves senseless. That is why they only left their homes if they absolutely had to. That is why they didn’t rebel when old friends disappeared. According to them, their old friends must have become contaminated by evil- and had to be restructured, or worse.
The city of Miami, where we happened to be, was looking more and more like an idiot’s magazine collection. Entire sides of buildings were transformed into billboards of celebrities and men in business suits with ominous stares. Naked teenage girls with parted lips who looked sick and scared. Wanted posters of those who were considered Others were labeled "non-conformers". Employment propaganda signs with religious figures smiling behind golden light, the caption below, "Got Work?" Peace Force propaganda signs showing a cop and gangster linked arm and arm. There were business men lighting cigars for them on each side.
So far the rest of the world, who I think of simply as Others, were fairly safe traveling the sewers. Our little group of hundreds were making use of the band called "The Replacement System" to protect ourselves from the real replacement system. Pat and the rest of the band moved through the sewers every week to a different location. Wherever they were playing, speakers were set up at as many sewer entrances as possible. These projected music from the live performances so that any "slave" in the remote area would "wake up" upon hearing it. The Others were also trying to get a few people to watch out by the speakers in case anyone tried to kill themselves after waking out of their trance. It was not uncommon to find someone dead or unconscious near a sewer entrance. We found that upon waking up, their new views of the world were quite differentiated and many were extreme. At first light, a great many of us would become instant converts to a religion or spiritual understanding. This would almost always follow a couple of days spent in a near catatonic state. Why? Well, a lot of people did a lot of horrible things when under the influence of their own replacement system. They raped, killed and tortured- many of them... and so many let themselves enjoy it because to them it was the right thing to do. If they didn’t participate in these activities there was an excellent chance that they wanted to, and had thought about it often enough. The reason was simple- When something is under control it seeks to gain control over itself. If it can’t gain control over itself it will take what it can get to feel a sense of control. What people were given under the replacement system was an enemy.
A Good Education
The people that woke up at our sewer entrances tended to fit into 2 categories. The first were the well educated and the second were the uneducated. The well educated usually didn’t go catatonic because their "hands on" experience was minimal. The well educated woke up in the morning. Maybe they had some crack or cocaine, took a shower, and then went to work. Members of the Peace Force always seemed to be at their door with coffee and energy drinks ready to accompany them to the office. On the way to the office they purchased a cheap breakfast from the Peace Force, and arrived promptly on time. If the work day started at 7AM then the first break started at noon. There was another break at 5PM and then the day would most likely end at 7PM. During a break, the educated person would buy something to eat from the Peace Force again, and then sit in the break room to watch television. There would be a couple televisions in the break room, one on each end. One television always played porno films, and the other always played propaganda news programs. After finishing what food was purchased, most employees used stimulants until the half hour break was over. The educated person would be frizzed up to work another 5 hours until another break. For most employees the next break was exactly the same. Then after the work day was over, the Peace Force would escort them back home. Most employees weren’t allowed to buy potent stimulants at the end of a work day. They were only available when they were going to and while at work. This was a successful effort to keep work morale high. Employees were encouraged to take part in the use of alcohol for after work hours.
For the more ambitious of the educated class, rewards and opportunities were given. Men were given one of three sets of keys. They were keys to rooms. The rooms were called "The Willing", "The Unwilling" and "The Afraid". Keys to "The Willing" room were for bottom level educated class. They were given to the top 50% of the educated working class. In a gymnasium sized room with a pool, females from the poor and working class offered themselves up to the bottom level educated class as an opportunity to better their situations. It might be best described as a return to the Roman Empire. This was an opportunity that many female employees hoped for. After being hopped up on uppers for a while they embraced sex as their ticket upwards, although the vast majority ended up right where they began.
The next key was for the top 30% of the educated working class. This mid level group was given keys to the "Unwilling Room". In another gymnasium sized room with a pool, the participants were victims of the sex slave trade. Kidnaped from the poor sections of the world, they now lived in tiny rooms which surrounded the large main room, where they were taken advantage of. Many of these women were taken from 3rd world countries and had to wear electronic bracelets which tracked their locations within the complex. The only escape these women had was through drug use and each other.
The top 20% of the educated working class were granted keys to a room called "The Afraid". This was yet another gymnasium sized room with a pool, but this one had a variety of instruments laying around the place. Some were made of metal and some wood, some plastic and some cord. It took the key holders time to figure out how to use many of them... but they didn’t mind. It was always interesting seeing what effect a new instrument had on a non- conformer. There were men and women non- conformers chained in this room. It seemed appropriate to include both sexes, considering the non- conformer views on gender. Members of the top 20% group referred to this place as "The Museum".
All 3 of the rooms mentioned were taken advantage of during break time or after work hours were over. In larger cities, there was a set up like this within every 2 mile radius. Those who took advantage of the rooms were generally promoted, where those who didn’t were not. If a man couldn’t get it up or seemed unnaturally uncomfortable, they were demoted and had to trade in their key for a lesser one. In some cases they lost their keys altogether and of course in rare cases, they were killed out of mercy.
The non educated and less educated working class had many more opportunities for personal debasement. They woke up and had a fix just the same, but most of them weren’t handed opportunities to rid their frustrations. Their work brought them into the company of slaves often, and they were quite aware of what the slave trade was all about. Many of them participated in ritual torture or had to clean up after tortures were finished. There wasn’t a key system involved with their treatment of those around them. Instead there was an informal "Look the other way" attitude which worked quite well. Perhaps an important element is the fact that many members of the uneducated working class had a friend or relative who ended up an unwilling sex slave for awhile.
Those who returned from the Unwilling Rooms were not always the same people they were before. This put severe gashes into the structures of family and friends. Hard truths seemed to surface in one another, but not the truths that are encountered by free thinking people. These are truths that solidify in the minds of the disturbed. From one set of eyes to another, the former slaves became perceived as meat. The uneducated working class began to devalue each other in ways only the rich did before. They started copying the 20% in hopes to attain the significance of being a meat eater. They kidnaped each other, plotted against each other’s families and murdered those who were in the way to create their own underground network of torture and rape. The Peace Force went along with these new developments without the need to be ordered to do so... it just seemed like the natural thing to do.
His Gray Hat
"I don’t remember being born.", he thought to himself. For just a flash he let it dawn on him, and then went back to work at his desk. He was preparing another meeting between the prodigy Che’ra and her grandmother. Not an actual physical meeting however. He had to arrange the environment in her room in such a way as to bring back the memory of their last meeting. When he was finished, he knew it would work- and it did. This is what happened...
Che’ra had to stay in a new hotel room for the night because she was on the outskirts of a new city being built specifically for the slave trade. She was kept busy until late that night so she hadn’t seen the room until it was time to sleep there. When she arrived she noticed that the room was empty except for a bed and a TV. There were no windows, but it was well lit from a chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. Their was an eerie feeling, being in such an empty room with white walls. Luckily there was a DVD in the television, none of the channels came through. Room service was brought up to her without her having to order. She wasn’t hungry but she did drink the vodka and tonic. Che’ra didn’t notice that it was dosed with LSD, but then why would she?
The movie was a light hearted comedy about the growing relationship between a girl and her mother. Before it reached its conclusion, Che’ra turned off the lights and went to bed ‘cause she was starting to feel sick. There was enough light shining in from outside for her to make out the general shape of the room. She started to get goose bumps and had to check her arms because for some reason she was sure the goose bumps were trying to pull themselves out. Che’ra put her head in the pillow and tried to go to sleep. She was beginning to believe that maybe she had been drugged. The feeling was too familiar. Her mind kept slipping to her grandmother though, making it impossible to hold a coherent train of thought. Another hour passed and Che’ra felt like she might have been asleep. She could hear her grandmother whispering to her, or perhaps calling to her from far away. "Wake up, girl...", the voice echoed dreamily, "Wake up." Che’ra felt herself calmly start to drift somewhere but it was over in a flash. A loud screeching sound shattered the quiet from the center of the room. The chandelier had dropped down a few feet startling her out of bed. It had been purposefully dropped to hang at a height of 5 foot, 3 inches but Che’ra had no idea about that. Che’ra had no idea about a chandelier at all... She was staring face to face with her grandmother. "Grandmother?", she cried with tears streaming down her face. She was once again the little girl that her grandmother raised. Che’ra opened up her arms to give her a big hug. "No Che’ra!", her grandmother said sternly, "You can’t come back to me until you finish saving the world!" Che’ra couldn’t keep from whimpering childishly, she blurted out, "That’s going to take too long!" I need you now Grandma!" "I love you baby... I had to come and see you even though he said it would be risky for me... I love you that much baby!", she replied. Che’ra saw a tear in her grandmother’s eye and it gave her some comfort. She gathered herself together and said half shakily, "Is he treating you good, Grandma?" "Yes baby, he’s treating me real good. There are a bunch of real nice people where I am." Che’ra broke down again, "What about your head grandma? How’s your head?" Her grandmother stared at her sternly and then in a flash her expression changed, "Oh, you mean my tumor? Child, don’t torture yourself about that. It was an accident. Anyway, I’ve forgiven you.", she paused for a moment, "If you must know... I’ll be spending some time trying some new treatments he thinks might help me. There’s a chance that I’ll recover." Che’ra stared right into the chandelier and with a broken voice uttered, "I’m sorry Grandmother. I’m sorry for what I’ve done." "Che’ra, I forgive you.", she said, "Now go to sleep so you can help bring the world that threatens us to an end... and so I’ll have a fighting chance." Che’ra obeyed, without even another attempt at a hug. She was emotionally deranged and was just glad to hear her grandmother sing her to sleep. "Hush little baby don’t say a word...momma’s gonna buy you a mockingbird...and if that mockingbird don’t sing..."
When Che’ra was fully asleep the chandelier pulled back into the ceiling. The man in the gray hat smiled in confident satisfaction at his computer console. "The girl tells her lies well.", he thought. Then he let out a piercing screech. The screech of a primitive bird. A predator bird. A peon entered the room, "Yes Sir?" "Give the girl Che’ra full control of the new city. Keep me aware of any action oriented decisions she makes. You can leave." "Yes Sir", returned the peon and then it left. The man in the gray hat called out again, "Screeeaawck!!" Another peon entered the room, "Yes Sir?" The man in the gray hat handed it a stack of files, "These non- conformists must be found and killed immediately. Rate their threat level at an 8, except for this one." He held out the folder and then opened it revealing a picture of Darkwing, "Rate this one at level 10, and follow the instructions word for word. You can leave, peon."
Another screech filled the room and another peon entered, "Yes Sir?" "What percentage of the population is marked for full control?", he asked mechanically. The peon answered, "Approximately 80% of the world population, and 90% of the US population." The man in the gray hat’s eyes squinted, "If we have control of 9 out of 10 people, then why don’t we have any information at all on that deliberate cunt Patricia? Do you have an explanation?" The peon replied, "No sir. The name doesn’t register with the machine. We’ve rounded up information on all known women with the name Patricia by birth certificate. There is just a fraction of a percentage unaccounted for and we have 10% of intelligence trying to locate them. We’re considering the possibility of her being captive in the uneducated class’ slave trade..." The man in the gray hat scowled, "No, she’s not captive, she’s active." The peon interrupted, "How do you know that...Sir?" "I just know.", he replied. And then it dawned on him that he had been interrupted. He had been questioned... and worse yet- he had answered the peon. The fury grew strong within him, but he wouldn’t let it show. "Peon.", he said, "Call for a meeting in the machine room and when everyone arrives, say to everyone: ‘This is what we get for laziness’, and then shoot yourself in the head."
"Yes Sir", the peon replied, but there was a beginning of a tear in the peon’s eye. The man in the gray hat sneered at him, "You’re defective... now leave." Without a proper reply the peon left. The man in the gray hat turned on a screen in the room and watched as the peon gathered everyone together, recited the line and then killed itself. Just before the shot, the peon stared up into one of the video cameras, knowing that it was being watched.
"Goddamn demon whore.", he said out loud to himself. "They’ll bring me the cunt...but I’ll have to find you." He was staring out a window across one of his cities. "Somebody helped you in deep. You were nothing.", he said to himself. He remembered meeting her. She looked like she’d been hitch hiking out on the road, but she wouldn’t get in. She refused the ride. It would have been so easy at that point. He probably would have been rid of her without realizing she was a threat.
"Sir?" A peon’s voice over the intercom rang out.
"Go on.", said the man in the gray hat.
"Your son is ready.", it said, "Should I send him in?"
The man in the gray hat replied, "No, I’ll go to him."
Through corridors of white walls and glass he walked steadily. He walked with an air of confidence. He walked past a puddle of blood that leaked out into the hallway from under a door, but seemed to make no notice of it. Without stopping he let out a loud screech and there appeared a peon, following him.
"Yes Sir?", it said.
"There’s a spill at 306. Clean it up.", he said steadily.
The peon turned back after a, "Yes Sir." He continued walking. Walking like a man. Like a man walking through his own house- a house that was already paid for. He came to the door of the room of the boy Ray. His boy. He knocked in a regular tone and the boy answered within 9 seconds. "Hello Father, Won’t you please come in.", Ray said in a firm tone. It was said the way it was meant to be said, not the least bit mechanical. It wasn’t forced, he meant it. There must have been something placed correctly in this boy... better than his other sons. Ray offered him a seat and then sat down himself.
"Father, I’ll have to get started right away. Sir Jane is causing quite a bit of trouble as each day goes by.", Ray said matter of factly.
"Yes Son, you’re quite right... but it’s important to me that we spend a moment together, a moment more. I want to be sure that I’m proud of you.", he said.
Ray let him stare at him and he stared back. Ray’s hair was cut perfectly and his clothing was wrinkle free, although casual- such as boys his age wore. There was something cold in Ray’s stare that forced the man in the gray hat to stare even deeper. He had flashes of memory regarding the boy. He remembered looking upon the boy indifferently when he was a baby. He remembered making him clean up juice that had spilled onto the floor, and then he remembered slapping him across the face. The last memory that flashed before him was of himself. He looked like a slob and he was weeping. He was weeping to the boy! He pulled himself out of the boy’s stare and looked at the wall in disgust.
"Remember Ray, that she’s a friend to you... After what she’s done to you, I imagine that seeing her will be the hardest thing.", he said out loud to himself and Ray. Inside of his head he was repeating,’Fucking bitch, cunt, whore, demon’, over and over again partially against his will. He agreed with himself, but he felt like he might be losing a certain amount of control.
Ray spoke up, "I will kill her when she’s asleep. That is the only possible way, I think. You know that I’ve seen her in her demon form. If she opens up her 3rd eye, I’m afraid she’ll kill me. It’s worth the risk to me though." The man in the gray hat stopped swearing in his head and felt relieved. He looked at Ray and saw a young man who he could be proud of, although he couldn’t completely trust him. He never trusted anyone and from the looks of Ray, the boy had his own agenda. He asked, "Is there anything you need that you don’t have?"
"Yes, there’s a lot actually. I need full clearance to anywhere. I need a limitless amount of spending... and I need to be assured that no one monitors me.", Ray replied. When the man in the gray hat asked why Ray didn’t want to be monitored, Ray said, "I intend to have some fun doing this and I am going to gain some experience being ruthless as well. Will you grant my request father?"
The man in the gray hat agreed, "Yes". Make sure to check in with me every week. It’s possible that we might get information from here also." Ray nodded and the man in the gray hat bid his farewell, "You’ll have everything within the hour." Then they bid their formal farewells, and the man in the gray hat left.
On his way back through the corridors of white walls and glass, he walked steadily but not quite as before. His confidence was stirred by those flash backs. To see himself weeping was completely foreign. He was not that man anymore. He had only 4 isolated memories from that time of being. That was before he was called into The Purpose and reborn... that was before he knew with total clarity that he was right. Even the contact the demon whore had with the boy, in turn had it’s effect on him. He couldn’t escape her influence. Somehow he knew she was responsible for the elusiveness of the woman Patricia. ‘Like the first cancer cell in a human body’, he thought. He had her identity handed to him on a platter. She was identified by the machine to be genetically threatening, but all the machine could do was produce a name. Inferior, machines were. At this point... Nevertheless, they checked every nickname, false name, and identity of any person who correctly identified with the name Patricia. Everyone identified with their birth name deep down... identities were traceable- just not hers.
Ray
Ray received his identification clearance tag, his money card, and was shown that the identification chip inside of his hand was deactivated. He felt a click in the nerves of his left hand as the computer shut the chip down. He was escorted out of the compound inside of a vehicle without windows because even he wasn’t aloud to know the location of the main base. He was let out on the streets at night and was immediately approached by Peace Force. "What are you doing out here, man?", somebody said. Ray showed them his tag and then told them to hook him up with the black market. They brought him to the subway and then waited until the appropriate car arrived. They motioned to Ray and he got on to find that this particular subway car was converted into a mobile store. Guns, drugs, girls, clothes, and appliances- there was a lot.
When Ray got off the subway car he wasn’t wearing his casual clothing anymore, he was in all black leather. There were two guns in the lining of the jacket, and a knife also. There was a backpack hung over his shoulders and under his arm was a rather large skateboard. It was 4 feet long and it had a small engine attached to it. Ray put the board on the street and stepped onto it. From his pocket he pulled out a hand grip controller and squeezed. He shot across the street and flew off the board after hitting the curb. Ray shook his head and pulled himself off the ground. The board was more powerful than he thought, having such a small engine. Once on the board again he took off down the dark street. He wasn’t going any slower.
Back to Sir Jane
Sir Jane was walking down the side of a tree the way most of us walk down the sidewalk. It was a very tall tree. If it had been a building, a person would have been very dead if they fell from the top. She wasn’t scared though. The bottoms of her feet blended into the tree on which she walked, holding her firmly as it would hold one of it’s own limbs. When she first started down the trunk her shoulders slouched forward from the pull of gravity. At first she tried to use her muscles to straighten herself out but she soon discovered a much easier way. She turned around staring up towards the top of the tree and then down at her feet. She felt the gravity pulling her down towards the ground and then she shifted her focus to where her feet were on the tree and the gravity shifted along with her focus. She willed this to happen although she couldn’t tell the mechanics that allowed it to happen.
There were changes that she could feel which were occurring in her body. She could feel clusters of sensations which seemed to act at random areas of her body, as if the cellular structure of those areas had to be changed to allow her to choose her own gravity path. As she became more aware of changes inside her, she in turn noticed her environment was acting differently than she knew it to before. The tree she was walking on reached out to her foot as her foot reached out for a place to hold it. It was as if her body learned to communicate with the tree and then made changes based upon that communication. The tree in turn made changes based on that communication.
She felt as if she had a new body which she was just beginning to know. She stopped walking down the trunk and jumped up. Her gravity pulled her back to the trunk. She tried it again and willed the gravity to let up so she could jump further out. It did let up for her...but just barely. She might have gotten a couple of inches from sheer will alone. The next few times she focused her attention on the areas of her body that reacted during the last big shift of gravity. A gradual change occurred... but not the one she wanted. Slowly, her body began to contort against her will. She was in a slow motion somersault, first forward then backward, pushing her partly down and then pulling her back up the trunk of the tree.
Sir Jane tried to change whichever centers she activated as she focused on her center of gravity- and this created another motion. This motion slowly pulled her back into her center of gravity against the tree, but it didn’t stop. The gravity became too strong for her legs and it forced her to lie down against the trunk. She couldn’t budge after a short while. It seemed like she’d be pulled into the trunk of the tree. As she waited, she noticed that she wasn’t binding with the tree. The gravity was pulling her against it and soon it was crushing her. The pressure was something she hadn’t experienced before and the overwhelming sensation kept her from breathing. The slits in her neck opened up and breathed for her. The skin on her back was getting pierced by the bark of the tree. The pressure on her bones became painful as she started shifting focus wherever she could. She heard the creak of her bones as they started to break and Sir Jane screamed out loud.
As the crunch of several bones created a silence within her, all at once, she became aware of 3 forces. One force was the general sense of self in her body, the second was the presence of the tree, and the third was the gravity field in which her and the tree were surrounded in. That instance of pain and clarity set Sir Jane upon her feet. Gravity wasn’t working against her in any direction now; it was holding her like an invisible hand. If it even held her to the tree at all she would have been in horrific pain. She was already in enough already, hanging there limply staring down at the ground. In her mind the 3 forces remained... she had an awareness of them. The combination of thoughts formed a symbol in her mind which was easy to set aside but remain aware of.
The skin on her back, and the backs of her arms, legs, and head were deeply indented by impressions made from the bark. Some fragments of bark remained embedded in her flesh. She couldn’t move her arms even to feel the impressions which were at least an inch deep in places. Her arms were broken. Her legs were broken. She knew there were broken ribs and possibly some broken vertebrae. She looked like she was standing against the trunk but she was not. She was a hunk of conscious meat, somewhat tenderized, suspended in the air by a giant invisible hand of magnetic force fields. Sir Jane hung there for awhile just taking it all in.
The symbol was weighing heavily in her mind and she concentrated on it. She thought of it sexually. She wanted to merge with it because it was more "there" to her than even she was. It overwhelmed her and she gasped, but she wouldn’t let go of the focus. She felt the symbol close in around her and then blot her out completely. All she was aware of for the next few minutes was the symbol.
In those few minutes a lot had happened. Sir Jane woke up on the ground and immediately her memory caught her up. "Jane", it said, " Jane, you were suspended in the air near the top of that tree." Her eyes glanced over at the tree... she remembered. "You made a sound and then you fell to the ground. Your body was badly broken from the fall. Your limbs were twisted around in ways they shouldn’t have been. There was blood all over the place. It was pouring out from many cuts on your body. Your eyes were closed but you could still see, and you untwisted your limbs to lay straight on the ground. I didn’t see what moved you... it couldn’t be seen. Your blood turned into a metallic liquid and continued to pour out of your body, but it did so slower and slower. The liquid moved over your body in ways it shouldn’t have. It started going into you through cuts and the pores of your skin. Something happened in the ground. There were movements in the soil and you were looking slowly and steadily from side to side. Worms came up out of the dirt and entered into your body from the tips of your fingers and toes. You opened up and let the worms right in. The worms merged with the bones in your hands and feet and proceeded to travel through your entire skeletal system. Each worm fused itself to bone and this repaired all the broken bones in your body."
She put her hands out in front of her face, still lying on the ground. They were alive in a way that was new to her. They felt different and they moved different. Like cartoon hands- the tiny limbs moved on their own, making random gestures, following no particular rhyme or reason. She stared at fingers that seemed to have lost their bone structure, and looking down she saw the same with her toes. Sir Jane tried to get up but her arms fell limp to the ground. She was laying flat on her back. She couldn’t feel her muscles anymore. She didn’t have control of any part of her body. She could feel it like some alien growth writhing around on its own accord. Her body started moving like a new organism slowly along the dirt. Her arms, legs, buttocks, and hair felt around the dirt like a newborn amoeba, pulling her slowly along. Her eyes were looking straight ahead but she had no control of them. She was being dragged by her body for the better part of a half hour when the big cat decided to pounce.
The Big Cat
The big cat noticed the scent of blood and the scent of something strange maybe a half a mile away. It didn’t take too long to catch up to what the smell was. It was a wounded creature pulling itself along slowly. The big cat noticed that the scent of blood was gone, but the creature was obviously dying. It was dragging itself like a crippled rabbit.
Without much of a second thought, the big cat pounced at the wounded creature and then blacked out.
Sir Jane had nothing to do with what happened... she only observed it. As the mountain lion’s jaw opened up inches from her face, her own arm shoved her hand into its throat and then pulled out its tongue. There appeared a look of shock on the animal’s face... a look of betrayal. It held that look for under 10 seconds and then died.
Sir Jane’s other arm, which wasn’t busy holding the tongue, grabbed the mountain lion by it’s tail, and her body began to drag it on it’s own accord. After another 15 yards her body entered into the hollow of a large tree and then it started digging down into it. Sir Jane did feel nervous at this so she tried to relax what part of her was still hers. She had a strange sensation that she was relaxing her body... but not the body that was pulling her into the ground. It was like a body within that body. It didn’t seem to function in a physical way, although she did feel like it was relaxing. After Sir Jane was submerged, the lion was pulled into the ground.
Batman Returns
Stanley woke up to the smell of smoke in the air. 20 yards away he saw the barn destroyed by a fire. It was collapsed on the ground charred black breathing smoke like a burnt offering– someone had dragged him out. ‘How could they?’, he thought, "How could they let me live?" He looked over at the house, it too was smouldering like a dying campfire. His father hadn’t been so lucky, if survival was in fact luck. Groaning, he pulled himself to his feet and staggered towards the lake at the edge of his family’s property.
He was pretty beat up but that’s all. No death. He wondered why no one took the opportunity to hack him to pieces... or worse. Some big guy walked up and knocked him out in one punch... but what that all? Did they forget? They must have burned the barn and house then simply wandered off. He reached up to his face and felt the rubber mask. It was still there.
When he reached the lake he saw the sun rise and slowly the reflection of his mask appeared in the water. Batman. ‘I’m a very bad man.’, Stanley thought, ‘I’m the worst kind of man.’ "I’m no super hero!!", he screamed and pulled at his mask to throw it in the lake. It didn’t budge. Stanley pulled harder and cried to himself over and over, "I’m no super hero... I’m no super hero." The mask was stuck. It wouldn’t come off. He felt horrible. It was too much. The mask had to come off. If it wouldn’t let him throw it in the lake, he’d have to deliver it himself.
Stanley waded in slowly. The sun was still rising and it left beautiful colors on the water’s surface. "Peace, peace... I want peace", he repeated... and soon the water was over his head.
He started to struggle almost immediately but managed to walk out deeper. He let his breath go and immediately water rushed in filling his nose and throat. Stanley convulsed as instinct took over but only for a minute. His body relaxed... it was peace. He felt the most at peace as he ever had before– as if being cradled in the palm of God.
The palm had different plans though. A driving force blew Stanley out of the water onto shore! He landed on his back vomiting water all over himself. He lurched forward and projected a stream of water from his mouth to the water’s edge and then clutched his throat. Stanley gasped- then Stanley breathed.
"Not just yet Batman.", said a voice. Stanley turned around and saw no one there. He tried to speak but couldn’t. "We’re in the water, yes...Right in front of you." Stanley saw... fish. There were a bunch of fish staring at him in the shallow water. "Yes, we’re fish Batman... and you’re in World War 3."
‘World War 3?’, he thought. "Yes Stanley, World War 3.", a fish said, "Except this war is inside people’s heads and it won’t be long before the war is over. Before you ask, yes, it’s true that we can read your thoughts. That’s how we knew to save you. You have a healthy mind set."
"You’re not a killer any more Batman.", another fish interjected, "We can see that the shaman has saved you."
"Yes she has saved you Stanley", the closer fish went on, "And we are going to help you to save her."
"The girl with the pig?", he finally managed to say.
‘Yes Batman... the girl with the pig.’
Back at the Warehouse
I started to realize something. It was the true evil nature of man. How long did it take for people to sell themselves over- to trade family members like veal cutlets. I remembered some times in my life when I was a coward. When somebody was pushing a friend of mine around and I was too scared to do anything about it. They were bullies and I was weak. Just like so many of these people I see around. The bullies were showing their colors at the top of the food chain. Society reached out to the bully in everyone and created a frozen world. Fear greets each person easily in their world. It gets inside of them until they learn to use it against other people. At first they can’t help it, releasing excess fear. But then they become accustomed to it, and they begin to enjoy it- scaring the hell into each other. Murder, rape, status quo comparisons. The way somebody says hi to you when they really don’t want you around. The use of sex for promotion... now law.
I knew it was the CEO on the billboard. I knew it was the lobbyist attached to the CEO, and I knew it was the new God Wealth. The few became fully addicted to needing more and they were destroying our world doing it. I wanted to bring them down. I wanted to bring down the men who were changing us. I wanted to tear that swollen knot out of the fabric and turn Hell back into Purgatory.
People were with me. We didn’t want to wait around down here trying to survive until they snuffed us out. Jimmy and Darkwing were kinda quiet about taking serious action, but Novocaine, Annie, and Jack were all over it. We had been sneaking people into the sewers to live for awhile now and it was getting hectic. People generally weren’t in the best of shape after being woken up by the Replacement System. We had a variety of born again Christians, New Age Revelers, Born Again Buddhists, converts to Islam, and a surprising number of Jedi converts.
When people woke up it was a profound experience, and for many of them horrifying. Jumping into a religious framework or changing one religion for another became a standard mode of operation. The confusion created from this phenomenon was thick. Arguments broke out regularly because of the enormous ties people couldn’t help but have to these belief systems. More people arrived every day and most were willing to join in the search for food and water... but it was getting crowded just the same. We thought it was only a matter of time before they knew we were down here. Then all they’d have to do is drop grenades or poisonous gas. It was well agreed upon that the time had come to act.
Me, Jimmy, Darkwing, and Novocaine were sitting around in the kitchen of my apartment talking about why we could never come back here again. The guardian Angels were reassembled through a new federal program. They were to formally join the new Peace Force comprised of police officers, military personnel and gang members. The new function of the Guardian Angels would be selling snacks and Starbucks to the new working class, who were imprisoned 70 hours a week apparently of their own free will. The general population did seem to embrace a new work ethic. Perhaps it was the new propaganda that stemmed out of nowhere over the past few years. From reality TV shows about specific CEO’s and their lackeys, to billboards with faces of the Fortune 500 executives, a tide was turning. This tide was so strong that even teenagers in the midst of rebellion embraced the qualities of the wealthy and over worked. They rebelled through drug use and violent beatings of the underclass, which most of them were a part of. The control was set so they could only think to beat each other down for what each other were. All TV shows, radio, and personal commentary were geared to the rich minority. They were referred to as The 20%.
The world of science experienced a renaissance which helped support these basic ideals tenfold. There was a revival in the study of Eugenics, which generalized human beings according to their personal traits. A new form of Eugenics was implemented and in a matter of months was hailed as "Man’s greatest modern achievement" of the new age. It was referred to as Modern Eugenics. This new form of science was a simple list of traits that "healthy" people possessed and a list of traits that "unhealthy" people possessed. A new genetic standard of human being was being mapped out according to this data. It was simplified in an expression called the 3Cs. Clean, Controlled and Competitive... the mark of true perfection.
Now, we knew it was a bunch of bullshit. Jimmy and Darkwing told us about the warped use of Eugenics during the Nazi regime and all of the horrible things that came about because of it. It had nothing to do with real Eugenics at all, but here it was establishing itself as certain fact.
Drugs were partially legalized and distributed by the Peace Force as well. Crack, cocaine, and speed were found to be beneficial for those who worked toward obtaining the 3Cs. Marijuana, heroin, and hallucinogens were strictly off limits because they worked against potential members of the 3Cs. Alcohol at the workplace was prohibited, but encouraged after work hours. It gave someone something to look forward to at the end of a slave day- I mean work day. People going to work with a hangover were also more likely to use drugs to make them feel better, which indirectly increased their work performance.
As Guardian Angels we were disgusted at this particular part of our changing society. Most of the drugs that we knew to destroy lives were now being embraced and advertized. The Guardian Angels who stayed on would be distributing them regularly now. There was only a half a dozen of us left besides me and Novocaine- the rest of the Angels owned TVs. Novocaine kidded with the others as they dropped off. I remember when a Guardian Angel named Squire told Novocaine he was changing sides. Novocaine just smiled and said, "Squire, you are the 33rd. You are the 33rd to leave and go off into the television. Make sure you send me a postcard now... sign it channel 33!" Squire, like the others, was so conditioned at that point that he nodded dryly and walked off.
We were all getting worried... there was no doubt about it. There were a lot of people disappearing around us, people besides former Guardian Angels. A lot of the homeless ceased to be visible on the streets anymore. It was like one by one they disappeared. Novocaine said, "I know a lot of people in this city but lately it seems more like I used to know people here. They’ve even moved the produce market inside. There’s no street venders no more. No old people sitting around drinking coffee. No kids out on the streets. I only see gang members and business men out there... and they all look tired! When’s the last time you saw a thug on the street looking tired?"
"You shouldn’t be strolling around out there Novocaine.", Darkwing broke in, "A lot of people are disappearing and its best you’re not one of them. Nobody’s out on the streets ‘cause whoever is noticed hanging around too long is taken." He looked over at Jimmy and then back at us, "We believe that the people taken are being killed or used for experimentation. Jimmy went into a trance the other day and pulled out some rough images. Tell them what you saw Jimmy."
"I saw everyone in the world at the same time. They were building a prison around themselves. In the part of the world where we live I saw huge rooms filled with machines. Outside of these rooms were countless other rooms, but those rooms became less completed as you went farther away from the machine rooms. In most of the rooms people were working on machines or building walls and bars around themselves. Some of the rooms had people strapped to tables. Some were being tortured with instruments, others with chemicals of some sort. Adjacent rooms were piled with corpses and limbs and there were workers in those rooms putting the body parts into a tubular vacuum system which was connected from machine to machine. There were also rooms of well dressed people standing and talking. Some were smiling and some were staring off with gaping expressions. The machines were connected to those rooms by the vacuum system and they produced a green liquid, which the people ingested casually. There were some open areas where people were roaming around sparsely. Many of them looked to be from primitive cultures and 3rd world situations. I saw some of them rounded up and brought to work on the prison, and some of them brought to the torture rooms...", then Jimmy stared off quietly for a moment. We were all quiet too. We knew just what he saw.
Darkwing looked over at Jimmy, "Have you heard from Tyrone?" Jimmy looked down and shrugged then replied, "No... Not for a month or so... and worrying about Tyrone is nothing new... he’s crazy in a way we may never know." Jimmy suddenly got a look in his eyes like he woke up, "There’s somebody else. There’s a woman I saw just for a second at the end of the vision. She looked totally deranged and she was crying and singing to a portrait on the wall of the guy in the gray hat. There was a band playing behind her and I saw a name on the drum kit. I think it said "The Replacements" or something. For a split second all I saw was the portrait of the man in the gray hat... and he had a blindfold on. Right then I snapped out of it." He looked at us sheepishly, "I can’t believe I didn’t remember that before!"
Novocaine spoke up, "I can find out where that band is if they still exist. There are still some people in hiding over here who are connected to the world." Darkwing jumped in, "I think we should all go. There’s no sense in separating with so few of us left." "Well," Said Novocaine, "I hope you’re in a talkative mood ‘cause those sewers are dark and I don’t have a flashlight." "That’s a good idea.", added Jimmy, "We’ll travel the sewers tonight... Nice going Novocaine."
The Sewers
It was dark and moist. The smell was just wrong. It crept into your nostrils and started shifting around your guts. Novocaine stopped for a second. He looked over the edge into the watery substances and puked. Then he looked back at us and said, "...and I don’t think that’s the last of it ya’ll... I musta lost a pound! If I keep this up I won’t have to give up fast food next month." "Stay away from fast food Novocaine... from now on.", Darkwing broke in, "they’re putting a mixture of stimulants in fast food to increase productivity in the workplace." "Cocaine in the fries, huh?", Novocaine replied, "What about the donuts? Do you think they messed with the donuts?" "I wouldn’t doubt it man. We’re going to have to grow some fresh vegetables if we’re going to keep from getting addicted.", Darkwing turned back and started leading the group. We didn’t have a flashlight so he had to hum to himself to keep his eyes lit up.
It was a hell of an experience walking through a dark murky sewer, listening to his low pitched song projecting through echoes down corridors. The light glow was just enough for us to keep our path along side the liquid river of piss and shit. The quiet, steady song put all of us in a trance making the overall experience very bearable. There were moments when I forgot the smell around me. Novocaine turned to puke several times but the melody around us changed up and it pulled him out of the stench and back onto the path. He still managed to puke a couple times for every mile we walked. I spewed a few times myself before we reached our first destination.
Novocaine lifted up the edge of the man hole cover just enough to see out from each angle. When the path was clear we helped him up, which wasn’t an easy feat. He disappeared into a project across the street. I felt a touch of jealousy knowing that he could breathe in fresh air for a few minutes. It would be too dangerous for the rest of us to go with him. The gangsters and the police patrolled the streets now.
Novocaine returned 20 minutes later with a wreck of a woman who called herself Danny. She was homeless and looked like maybe she was a crack addict, but from the looks of her arms and legs and even her neck, I could tell it was heroin. She had dozens of track marks all over those areas. We helped her through the manhole gently, ‘cause the bones beneath her skin didn’t look like they had a lot of support holding her.
Novocaine told us that whoever used to live in those apartments was gone now. When he walked in they were practically empty and then he noticed Danny in the corner of a room. "She was shaking and talking to herself and I wasn’t sure what to say to her, so I asked her if she had seen any good concerts lately and she said... Ha, ha..., and she said,
‘Music is dead... except for the Replacement System... and I’m going to find the Replacement System... and I’m going to help them to help The Man help himself to Hell, so help me Ra... so help me God... so help me. Help me.’
Then she asked me if I was holding and I said, ‘No but me and my friends are trying to find the Replacement System also. We’re traveling through the sewers and if you don’t mind the stink you can come along, but we don’t know where we’re going just yet.’"Just then Danny interrupted and said, "Then I said, ‘All you have to do to find them is walk blindly- because they travel from place to place, but anyone who wants to find them finds them. Well...except for The Man- ‘cause he don’t understand." After she finished her sentence Danny pulled out a flashlight and started walking so we followed her.
Strange Ways of Danny
We had been walking with our new guest for a couple hours and she wasn’t silent for any of it. She went between mumbling quietly to herself, then raising her voice a little when directing something toward us. Mostly she mumbled to herself as she walked along. "I need some junk cause I’m dying... I swear I’m dying. They didn’t kill me...why not? I’m killable. Free drugs but no hugs...they cost you extra." Then she looked back at us and raised her voice. "They killed my boy Ray. Goddamn government! Actually, think he was my brother and I miss him" Dolly went on to herself
"What do you want to know about a demon whore for? She was a plain ole’ Jane to me...well, maybe not plain but...Goddamn walls were shaking like they never shook before- I was trippin’ balls! Oh hell, I’m still tripping. Goddamn Man has us in the sewer... at least I’m with the A team."
Then she blurted out, "Where’s Face?" Danny moved her head mechanically and went on and on to herself, "The Man sounds like a goddamn bird... but he can’t fly. He can squawk, I’ll give him that, but no... if I connect the dots on my body in just the right way, I’ll have a map to that sonovabitch, and then I’ll find him. I’ll find him then... I’ll find him then... I’ll probably cry... ask him why... I’d cry and ask him why." She turned her head and said quite matter of factly, "I’d like to kill, but I have to cry." She was quiet after that- for a few minutes.
I didn’t know if she was totally nuts or if there was a version of everything she said that actually happened to her. She looked like she had been a street bum all her life, in her rags and partially dreaded hair. Who knew if we were going to find anything at all? Darkwing and Jimmy didn’t question what we were doing. They just walked along purposefully, following the path that Danny was making as she mumbled conversation. Then we heard the music.
Pat’s Replacement System
We followed the music down the corridors until it seemed to be right over us. It was like the blues being filtered through a prism, but it was slightly distorted. I thought that this would be what music sounds like to someone just entering a mental collapse, but maybe that’s because of the voice singing. It sounded like a man’s voice but sometimes it would break into female undertones, and then it would sound like a middle aged woman weeping... only to abruptly change into an authoritarian male drone. We stood below a manhole cover listening, ‘cause that’s where the sound came through strongest. A big smile appeared on Danny’s face as if she discovered something valuable. They all stared up at the manhole cover for a whole song listening to the words spit out in a guttural moan,
"Did we ask for yet a bullet for the head
a blood bathed moon above a crowded street
several severed heads on tree trunk stands
with military brands stamped on their feet
have we asked for yet another Khmer Rouge
desecrated bodies served upon plates
hundreds of souls crying for bread
and countless others laughing at games...
War fate for infants being bought and sold
for passes to places where parents can’t go
have we asked for yet, what I believe
to be death in a dream on a road?.."
I looked over at Jimmy and asked him if it sounded anything like the woman in his vision. He said, "Well, kind of. I think music sounds a little dreamier in dreams..." The song went on,
"Have we emptied baskets filled with disease only to reinvent them again?
Then send them out past the border at night to blow with the dust in the wind
have we asked for yet the cold kiss of death with our warm bodies shared for esteem or the crippling remarks of fake tarot cards and the effect they have on the dream?.."
"Ya hear that? Goddamn, death in a dream! I could go for some dream right now.", Danny’s voice was shaking. She was itching her arms also , and I could almost swear that the tiny holes in her arms looked like little mouths opening and closing. "Did you hear that goddamn music? It’s beautiful!", she cried out. At that very moment Danny lurched back flailing into Novocaine’s arms. She was twitching violently and Novocaine sat down against the wall cradling her. The holes in her arms were spitting out junk. There was no doubt about it. Her veins looked thick and ripe through her skin, and they would suddenly vibrate before releasing fluid through the widened holes. Novocaine’s own arms were wet with it. His eyes were staring down at her and he didn’t dare move. We heard the voice from above attacking again,
"Was the hypocrite song played too long
and repeated too much on the street?
In a world disguised behind cold eyes
warm fingers and soft feet
electronic mice following sons who once believed in the day
aside from pleasures taken for granted and sent in a way to betray
have we asked for yet, have you been here long
did you think about running for food?
And what will you do when you get what you want and you die...
A stranger refused!"
Danny stopped twitching just as the music came to a violent stop. She looked around and then up at Novocaine and said, "Thank you so much. I have no idea what happened. I feel really weird. I bet you feel weird." Novocaine just stared at her for a second and Danny gave him a big goofy smile, then started to get up. Novocaine snapped out of it and helped her after a second. He said, "You really liked that song! I could tell. I bet it’s not every song that makes you writhe around squirting drugs all over the place!" Danny just said "No"...with a blush.
I wasn’t surprised that what happened to Danny actually happened. The music was obviously magic of some sort... or something like it. It was strange enough how we found this place. The logic that I grew up with was now obsolete. If I had gone on living the way I had been before, I’d be a slave to the world around me, working myself into oblivion. I’d be addicted to drugs, TV, and work with no idea of the reality of my situation. This "reality of my situation" was not completely clear by any means. I could only guess at what was going on, but my awareness of each hour was much more defined than ever before.
We entered up through the manhole one by one starting with Novocaine. It led into the corner of a big warehouse and there were people there on the other side to help us up. They greeted us with gestures because it was impossible to hear with the music around. The floor was packed with people standing shoulder to shoulder, so that there was only room for them to bob their heads to the beat. I felt a steady stream of energy running through me, probably penetrating everyone in the entire room. Everyone’s attention was fixed on the stage, most likely on the strange woman at the center of it. She definitely looked deranged just staring straight ahead with a glazed, electric look in her eyes. Her voice was very masculine and more deep than you would ever imagine on a woman of her size. She couldn’t have been more than 5 foot 7", and she couldn’t have weighed more than 130 pounds. She was wearing what looked like a standard semi-formal dress. Something a secretary or a school teacher would wear, although it was a bit ragged. Her knuckles were white from squeezing the microphone stand as she moaned,
"We get sad, we survive, we wake up in the alley and cry
we throw stones, and break bones, and sing songs to keep from feeling alone
we rise up and push down on those we sometimes care about
then sink to the bottom feeling rotten and frown
a last chance we all believe and emotions turn like the sea
until new friends are found we seethe making our list of enemies
we add it up and call for war trying to kill the bitch or score
we fuck and fight it’s all the same and we deny it all in vain
why she needs her medication
why she needs her medication
a helpless stare a friendly glance the wet feeling of pleasure’s trance
the warm glow of a good face with soft words to ease the mental quakes
why she needs her medication..."
Then she grabbed her head as tears flowed out of her eyes. Just bass and slight drums were playing and you could hear her talking mostly to herself. "Why she needs her medication...She needs it. Yeah, she needs it... She loves it so much... time to forget... the people that are left...It’s like everywhere I go... I’m walking past piles of people pretending not to be dead." Then the guitars started rolling in and she snapped out of it and started singing again,
"We work through time for comfort and lies
trying to fit in for the eye of the times
a new car, TV... the right look
Hide the family- I’m immortal and obscene
with my head below the edge of your last ax I breathe
we find time wasting it then lose it adding it up
through strange ideas we find the abuse we call love
our energy, our clockworks, our phony blacks and whites
our need for what’s right and our attraction toward crime...
Why she needs her medication
Why she needs her medication
Why I need an education
Is why she needs her medication"
The music changed into some lighter instrumental blues, and the singer walked over to the side of the stage and started drinking a beer. Danny rushed past me and through the crowd towards her. When she got there, she just plopped herself down beside her.
"Hi, my name’s Danny, what’s your’s?"
"I’m Pat, and I’m the town crier... because the end is near."
"That’s true!", Danny said, with a great big smile.
Then she fought her way back through the crowd just to tell me that the singer’s name was Pat. Then Danny made her way back through the crowd and sat down next to Pat again. From a distance I saw Pat hand Danny a beer and they both seemed to stare across the room ominously without talking. Well, it looked like Danny might have been mouthing something to herself.
Novocaine came up to me and said we were about to get some answers. I followed him to an open area surrounded by stacked up boxes in such a way that a poorly constructed room was achieved. Jimmy and Darkwing were sitting down with a couple of Guardian Angels who survived the brainwashing that took so many others. Their names were Annie and Jack, both female. Annie was a Navajo Indian, and Jack was black. I think they might have been just out of high school but I don’t remember. They both kind of isolated themselves from everyone except for each other.
I remember when Novocaine first introduced me to them. He said, "This is Annie and Jack. Both of these girls are in love but the only way I’ve seen them show affection for each other is by kicking each other’s asses!" I noticed them staring at him with cold death gangster stares, but he chided on as they approached him. "...and as you can tell, they love me too!" They were all over him. If he was anybody but Novocaine, he would have been in trouble. Of course, each swing was doomed to miss. After a minute, they broke out laughing and then they looked down with embarrassed looks on their faces because they had giggled a little bit accidentally.
Here they were, Annie and Jack, looking ever so serious as they nodded me over to a crate to sit on. There was a weight behind their eyes that wasn’t there before. They didn’t waste any time getting to business either. Annie spoke first, "The most important thing we’ve found so far is this band. They are called "The Replacement System" and so far gangs and police patrols haven’t been able to infiltrate any place where they happen to be playing at." Jack jumped in, "We’ve been at this location with the band for a week and dozens of people have admitted that they...were in the business of collecting non-conformers, as they call us, but the music drew them in." They just wandered toward it with their minds blank", Annie added, "and they said that after they could make out the words everything inside of them just screamed, and they collapsed on the floor crying..." Jack said, "Yeah, some of these people have brought people to rooms where they tortured them. Some of them have been forcing Others into sexual labor camps where they’re habitually raped by the 20% and a good portion of the working class." Annie continued, "A lot of people have killed themselves or have tried to kill themselves after first listening to The Replacement System. We’re developing a system of our own to look out for first time listeners. As strong as people’s reactions have been, we don’t think it’s possible for anyone who has heard this music to betray us." Then Jack, "If that was possible, none of us would be here now. There’s a world out there that’s out to crush us."
We talked for awhile about what was happening in the world around us. It didn’t seem to make sense that the most common and dominant mind set would support outright murder. People all over the world punished those who committed violent crimes, and they supported those that worked for peace, but then as if on cue we heard the Star Spangled Banner being played "Hendrix" style from the other room... It sunk in, in the name of self defense most of us DID support murder. If we thought it was justified we could allow for just about anything. We believed in revenge and we believed that evil had to be destroyed.
Behind solemn faces most men believed that a woman’s true purpose was to be sexually pleasing. Whether it meant being sweet, attractive, or quirky, the underlying purpose of women was to please men. Beyond their better judgement, this kernel rested in women as truth also. Many women didn’t agree with it, but they couldn’t stand to focus on it enough to change it. In this light the radical sex slavery program could be better understood. As the mind set strengthened, the opposing perceptions within it were weeded out, leaving just the basic primitive core of the belief. With women, bisexuality in the company of men was permitted- but not homosexuality. On the other hand, bisexuality in men was considered an abomination... on par with regular homosexuality. Men were not understood to be desired in such ways. They were workers, rulers, leaders. These were more than rules that people had to follow now. They were hardened beliefs in the hearts and minds of a huge majority of us. That is why people "wanted" to work themselves senseless. That is why they only left their homes if they absolutely had to. That is why they didn’t rebel when old friends disappeared. According to them, their old friends must have become contaminated by evil- and had to be restructured, or worse.
The city of Miami, where we happened to be, was looking more and more like an idiot’s magazine collection. Entire sides of buildings were transformed into billboards of celebrities and men in business suits with ominous stares. Naked teenage girls with parted lips who looked sick and scared. Wanted posters of those who were considered Others were labeled "non-conformers". Employment propaganda signs with religious figures smiling behind golden light, the caption below, "Got Work?" Peace Force propaganda signs showing a cop and gangster linked arm and arm. There were business men lighting cigars for them on each side.
So far the rest of the world, who I think of simply as Others, were fairly safe traveling the sewers. Our little group of hundreds were making use of the band called "The Replacement System" to protect ourselves from the real replacement system. Pat and the rest of the band moved through the sewers every week to a different location. Wherever they were playing, speakers were set up at as many sewer entrances as possible. These projected music from the live performances so that any "slave" in the remote area would "wake up" upon hearing it. The Others were also trying to get a few people to watch out by the speakers in case anyone tried to kill themselves after waking out of their trance. It was not uncommon to find someone dead or unconscious near a sewer entrance. We found that upon waking up, their new views of the world were quite differentiated and many were extreme. At first light, a great many of us would become instant converts to a religion or spiritual understanding. This would almost always follow a couple of days spent in a near catatonic state. Why? Well, a lot of people did a lot of horrible things when under the influence of their own replacement system. They raped, killed and tortured- many of them... and so many let themselves enjoy it because to them it was the right thing to do. If they didn’t participate in these activities there was an excellent chance that they wanted to, and had thought about it often enough. The reason was simple- When something is under control it seeks to gain control over itself. If it can’t gain control over itself it will take what it can get to feel a sense of control. What people were given under the replacement system was an enemy.
A Good Education
The people that woke up at our sewer entrances tended to fit into 2 categories. The first were the well educated and the second were the uneducated. The well educated usually didn’t go catatonic because their "hands on" experience was minimal. The well educated woke up in the morning. Maybe they had some crack or cocaine, took a shower, and then went to work. Members of the Peace Force always seemed to be at their door with coffee and energy drinks ready to accompany them to the office. On the way to the office they purchased a cheap breakfast from the Peace Force, and arrived promptly on time. If the work day started at 7AM then the first break started at noon. There was another break at 5PM and then the day would most likely end at 7PM. During a break, the educated person would buy something to eat from the Peace Force again, and then sit in the break room to watch television. There would be a couple televisions in the break room, one on each end. One television always played porno films, and the other always played propaganda news programs. After finishing what food was purchased, most employees used stimulants until the half hour break was over. The educated person would be frizzed up to work another 5 hours until another break. For most employees the next break was exactly the same. Then after the work day was over, the Peace Force would escort them back home. Most employees weren’t allowed to buy potent stimulants at the end of a work day. They were only available when they were going to and while at work. This was a successful effort to keep work morale high. Employees were encouraged to take part in the use of alcohol for after work hours.
For the more ambitious of the educated class, rewards and opportunities were given. Men were given one of three sets of keys. They were keys to rooms. The rooms were called "The Willing", "The Unwilling" and "The Afraid". Keys to "The Willing" room were for bottom level educated class. They were given to the top 50% of the educated working class. In a gymnasium sized room with a pool, females from the poor and working class offered themselves up to the bottom level educated class as an opportunity to better their situations. It might be best described as a return to the Roman Empire. This was an opportunity that many female employees hoped for. After being hopped up on uppers for a while they embraced sex as their ticket upwards, although the vast majority ended up right where they began.
The next key was for the top 30% of the educated working class. This mid level group was given keys to the "Unwilling Room". In another gymnasium sized room with a pool, the participants were victims of the sex slave trade. Kidnaped from the poor sections of the world, they now lived in tiny rooms which surrounded the large main room, where they were taken advantage of. Many of these women were taken from 3rd world countries and had to wear electronic bracelets which tracked their locations within the complex. The only escape these women had was through drug use and each other.
The top 20% of the educated working class were granted keys to a room called "The Afraid". This was yet another gymnasium sized room with a pool, but this one had a variety of instruments laying around the place. Some were made of metal and some wood, some plastic and some cord. It took the key holders time to figure out how to use many of them... but they didn’t mind. It was always interesting seeing what effect a new instrument had on a non- conformer. There were men and women non- conformers chained in this room. It seemed appropriate to include both sexes, considering the non- conformer views on gender. Members of the top 20% group referred to this place as "The Museum".
All 3 of the rooms mentioned were taken advantage of during break time or after work hours were over. In larger cities, there was a set up like this within every 2 mile radius. Those who took advantage of the rooms were generally promoted, where those who didn’t were not. If a man couldn’t get it up or seemed unnaturally uncomfortable, they were demoted and had to trade in their key for a lesser one. In some cases they lost their keys altogether and of course in rare cases, they were killed out of mercy.
The non educated and less educated working class had many more opportunities for personal debasement. They woke up and had a fix just the same, but most of them weren’t handed opportunities to rid their frustrations. Their work brought them into the company of slaves often, and they were quite aware of what the slave trade was all about. Many of them participated in ritual torture or had to clean up after tortures were finished. There wasn’t a key system involved with their treatment of those around them. Instead there was an informal "Look the other way" attitude which worked quite well. Perhaps an important element is the fact that many members of the uneducated working class had a friend or relative who ended up an unwilling sex slave for awhile.
Those who returned from the Unwilling Rooms were not always the same people they were before. This put severe gashes into the structures of family and friends. Hard truths seemed to surface in one another, but not the truths that are encountered by free thinking people. These are truths that solidify in the minds of the disturbed. From one set of eyes to another, the former slaves became perceived as meat. The uneducated working class began to devalue each other in ways only the rich did before. They started copying the 20% in hopes to attain the significance of being a meat eater. They kidnaped each other, plotted against each other’s families and murdered those who were in the way to create their own underground network of torture and rape. The Peace Force went along with these new developments without the need to be ordered to do so... it just seemed like the natural thing to do.
His Gray Hat
"I don’t remember being born.", he thought to himself. For just a flash he let it dawn on him, and then went back to work at his desk. He was preparing another meeting between the prodigy Che’ra and her grandmother. Not an actual physical meeting however. He had to arrange the environment in her room in such a way as to bring back the memory of their last meeting. When he was finished, he knew it would work- and it did. This is what happened...
Che’ra had to stay in a new hotel room for the night because she was on the outskirts of a new city being built specifically for the slave trade. She was kept busy until late that night so she hadn’t seen the room until it was time to sleep there. When she arrived she noticed that the room was empty except for a bed and a TV. There were no windows, but it was well lit from a chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. Their was an eerie feeling, being in such an empty room with white walls. Luckily there was a DVD in the television, none of the channels came through. Room service was brought up to her without her having to order. She wasn’t hungry but she did drink the vodka and tonic. Che’ra didn’t notice that it was dosed with LSD, but then why would she?
The movie was a light hearted comedy about the growing relationship between a girl and her mother. Before it reached its conclusion, Che’ra turned off the lights and went to bed ‘cause she was starting to feel sick. There was enough light shining in from outside for her to make out the general shape of the room. She started to get goose bumps and had to check her arms because for some reason she was sure the goose bumps were trying to pull themselves out. Che’ra put her head in the pillow and tried to go to sleep. She was beginning to believe that maybe she had been drugged. The feeling was too familiar. Her mind kept slipping to her grandmother though, making it impossible to hold a coherent train of thought. Another hour passed and Che’ra felt like she might have been asleep. She could hear her grandmother whispering to her, or perhaps calling to her from far away. "Wake up, girl...", the voice echoed dreamily, "Wake up." Che’ra felt herself calmly start to drift somewhere but it was over in a flash. A loud screeching sound shattered the quiet from the center of the room. The chandelier had dropped down a few feet startling her out of bed. It had been purposefully dropped to hang at a height of 5 foot, 3 inches but Che’ra had no idea about that. Che’ra had no idea about a chandelier at all... She was staring face to face with her grandmother. "Grandmother?", she cried with tears streaming down her face. She was once again the little girl that her grandmother raised. Che’ra opened up her arms to give her a big hug. "No Che’ra!", her grandmother said sternly, "You can’t come back to me until you finish saving the world!" Che’ra couldn’t keep from whimpering childishly, she blurted out, "That’s going to take too long!" I need you now Grandma!" "I love you baby... I had to come and see you even though he said it would be risky for me... I love you that much baby!", she replied. Che’ra saw a tear in her grandmother’s eye and it gave her some comfort. She gathered herself together and said half shakily, "Is he treating you good, Grandma?" "Yes baby, he’s treating me real good. There are a bunch of real nice people where I am." Che’ra broke down again, "What about your head grandma? How’s your head?" Her grandmother stared at her sternly and then in a flash her expression changed, "Oh, you mean my tumor? Child, don’t torture yourself about that. It was an accident. Anyway, I’ve forgiven you.", she paused for a moment, "If you must know... I’ll be spending some time trying some new treatments he thinks might help me. There’s a chance that I’ll recover." Che’ra stared right into the chandelier and with a broken voice uttered, "I’m sorry Grandmother. I’m sorry for what I’ve done." "Che’ra, I forgive you.", she said, "Now go to sleep so you can help bring the world that threatens us to an end... and so I’ll have a fighting chance." Che’ra obeyed, without even another attempt at a hug. She was emotionally deranged and was just glad to hear her grandmother sing her to sleep. "Hush little baby don’t say a word...momma’s gonna buy you a mockingbird...and if that mockingbird don’t sing..."
When Che’ra was fully asleep the chandelier pulled back into the ceiling. The man in the gray hat smiled in confident satisfaction at his computer console. "The girl tells her lies well.", he thought. Then he let out a piercing screech. The screech of a primitive bird. A predator bird. A peon entered the room, "Yes Sir?" "Give the girl Che’ra full control of the new city. Keep me aware of any action oriented decisions she makes. You can leave." "Yes Sir", returned the peon and then it left. The man in the gray hat called out again, "Screeeaawck!!" Another peon entered the room, "Yes Sir?" The man in the gray hat handed it a stack of files, "These non- conformists must be found and killed immediately. Rate their threat level at an 8, except for this one." He held out the folder and then opened it revealing a picture of Darkwing, "Rate this one at level 10, and follow the instructions word for word. You can leave, peon."
Another screech filled the room and another peon entered, "Yes Sir?" "What percentage of the population is marked for full control?", he asked mechanically. The peon answered, "Approximately 80% of the world population, and 90% of the US population." The man in the gray hat’s eyes squinted, "If we have control of 9 out of 10 people, then why don’t we have any information at all on that deliberate cunt Patricia? Do you have an explanation?" The peon replied, "No sir. The name doesn’t register with the machine. We’ve rounded up information on all known women with the name Patricia by birth certificate. There is just a fraction of a percentage unaccounted for and we have 10% of intelligence trying to locate them. We’re considering the possibility of her being captive in the uneducated class’ slave trade..." The man in the gray hat scowled, "No, she’s not captive, she’s active." The peon interrupted, "How do you know that...Sir?" "I just know.", he replied. And then it dawned on him that he had been interrupted. He had been questioned... and worse yet- he had answered the peon. The fury grew strong within him, but he wouldn’t let it show. "Peon.", he said, "Call for a meeting in the machine room and when everyone arrives, say to everyone: ‘This is what we get for laziness’, and then shoot yourself in the head."
"Yes Sir", the peon replied, but there was a beginning of a tear in the peon’s eye. The man in the gray hat sneered at him, "You’re defective... now leave." Without a proper reply the peon left. The man in the gray hat turned on a screen in the room and watched as the peon gathered everyone together, recited the line and then killed itself. Just before the shot, the peon stared up into one of the video cameras, knowing that it was being watched.
"Goddamn demon whore.", he said out loud to himself. "They’ll bring me the cunt...but I’ll have to find you." He was staring out a window across one of his cities. "Somebody helped you in deep. You were nothing.", he said to himself. He remembered meeting her. She looked like she’d been hitch hiking out on the road, but she wouldn’t get in. She refused the ride. It would have been so easy at that point. He probably would have been rid of her without realizing she was a threat.
"Sir?" A peon’s voice over the intercom rang out.
"Go on.", said the man in the gray hat.
"Your son is ready.", it said, "Should I send him in?"
The man in the gray hat replied, "No, I’ll go to him."
Through corridors of white walls and glass he walked steadily. He walked with an air of confidence. He walked past a puddle of blood that leaked out into the hallway from under a door, but seemed to make no notice of it. Without stopping he let out a loud screech and there appeared a peon, following him.
"Yes Sir?", it said.
"There’s a spill at 306. Clean it up.", he said steadily.
The peon turned back after a, "Yes Sir." He continued walking. Walking like a man. Like a man walking through his own house- a house that was already paid for. He came to the door of the room of the boy Ray. His boy. He knocked in a regular tone and the boy answered within 9 seconds. "Hello Father, Won’t you please come in.", Ray said in a firm tone. It was said the way it was meant to be said, not the least bit mechanical. It wasn’t forced, he meant it. There must have been something placed correctly in this boy... better than his other sons. Ray offered him a seat and then sat down himself.
"Father, I’ll have to get started right away. Sir Jane is causing quite a bit of trouble as each day goes by.", Ray said matter of factly.
"Yes Son, you’re quite right... but it’s important to me that we spend a moment together, a moment more. I want to be sure that I’m proud of you.", he said.
Ray let him stare at him and he stared back. Ray’s hair was cut perfectly and his clothing was wrinkle free, although casual- such as boys his age wore. There was something cold in Ray’s stare that forced the man in the gray hat to stare even deeper. He had flashes of memory regarding the boy. He remembered looking upon the boy indifferently when he was a baby. He remembered making him clean up juice that had spilled onto the floor, and then he remembered slapping him across the face. The last memory that flashed before him was of himself. He looked like a slob and he was weeping. He was weeping to the boy! He pulled himself out of the boy’s stare and looked at the wall in disgust.
"Remember Ray, that she’s a friend to you... After what she’s done to you, I imagine that seeing her will be the hardest thing.", he said out loud to himself and Ray. Inside of his head he was repeating,’Fucking bitch, cunt, whore, demon’, over and over again partially against his will. He agreed with himself, but he felt like he might be losing a certain amount of control.
Ray spoke up, "I will kill her when she’s asleep. That is the only possible way, I think. You know that I’ve seen her in her demon form. If she opens up her 3rd eye, I’m afraid she’ll kill me. It’s worth the risk to me though." The man in the gray hat stopped swearing in his head and felt relieved. He looked at Ray and saw a young man who he could be proud of, although he couldn’t completely trust him. He never trusted anyone and from the looks of Ray, the boy had his own agenda. He asked, "Is there anything you need that you don’t have?"
"Yes, there’s a lot actually. I need full clearance to anywhere. I need a limitless amount of spending... and I need to be assured that no one monitors me.", Ray replied. When the man in the gray hat asked why Ray didn’t want to be monitored, Ray said, "I intend to have some fun doing this and I am going to gain some experience being ruthless as well. Will you grant my request father?"
The man in the gray hat agreed, "Yes". Make sure to check in with me every week. It’s possible that we might get information from here also." Ray nodded and the man in the gray hat bid his farewell, "You’ll have everything within the hour." Then they bid their formal farewells, and the man in the gray hat left.
On his way back through the corridors of white walls and glass, he walked steadily but not quite as before. His confidence was stirred by those flash backs. To see himself weeping was completely foreign. He was not that man anymore. He had only 4 isolated memories from that time of being. That was before he was called into The Purpose and reborn... that was before he knew with total clarity that he was right. Even the contact the demon whore had with the boy, in turn had it’s effect on him. He couldn’t escape her influence. Somehow he knew she was responsible for the elusiveness of the woman Patricia. ‘Like the first cancer cell in a human body’, he thought. He had her identity handed to him on a platter. She was identified by the machine to be genetically threatening, but all the machine could do was produce a name. Inferior, machines were. At this point... Nevertheless, they checked every nickname, false name, and identity of any person who correctly identified with the name Patricia. Everyone identified with their birth name deep down... identities were traceable- just not hers.
Ray
Ray received his identification clearance tag, his money card, and was shown that the identification chip inside of his hand was deactivated. He felt a click in the nerves of his left hand as the computer shut the chip down. He was escorted out of the compound inside of a vehicle without windows because even he wasn’t aloud to know the location of the main base. He was let out on the streets at night and was immediately approached by Peace Force. "What are you doing out here, man?", somebody said. Ray showed them his tag and then told them to hook him up with the black market. They brought him to the subway and then waited until the appropriate car arrived. They motioned to Ray and he got on to find that this particular subway car was converted into a mobile store. Guns, drugs, girls, clothes, and appliances- there was a lot.
When Ray got off the subway car he wasn’t wearing his casual clothing anymore, he was in all black leather. There were two guns in the lining of the jacket, and a knife also. There was a backpack hung over his shoulders and under his arm was a rather large skateboard. It was 4 feet long and it had a small engine attached to it. Ray put the board on the street and stepped onto it. From his pocket he pulled out a hand grip controller and squeezed. He shot across the street and flew off the board after hitting the curb. Ray shook his head and pulled himself off the ground. The board was more powerful than he thought, having such a small engine. Once on the board again he took off down the dark street. He wasn’t going any slower.
Back to Sir Jane
Sir Jane was walking down the side of a tree the way most of us walk down the sidewalk. It was a very tall tree. If it had been a building, a person would have been very dead if they fell from the top. She wasn’t scared though. The bottoms of her feet blended into the tree on which she walked, holding her firmly as it would hold one of it’s own limbs. When she first started down the trunk her shoulders slouched forward from the pull of gravity. At first she tried to use her muscles to straighten herself out but she soon discovered a much easier way. She turned around staring up towards the top of the tree and then down at her feet. She felt the gravity pulling her down towards the ground and then she shifted her focus to where her feet were on the tree and the gravity shifted along with her focus. She willed this to happen although she couldn’t tell the mechanics that allowed it to happen.
There were changes that she could feel which were occurring in her body. She could feel clusters of sensations which seemed to act at random areas of her body, as if the cellular structure of those areas had to be changed to allow her to choose her own gravity path. As she became more aware of changes inside her, she in turn noticed her environment was acting differently than she knew it to before. The tree she was walking on reached out to her foot as her foot reached out for a place to hold it. It was as if her body learned to communicate with the tree and then made changes based upon that communication. The tree in turn made changes based on that communication.
She felt as if she had a new body which she was just beginning to know. She stopped walking down the trunk and jumped up. Her gravity pulled her back to the trunk. She tried it again and willed the gravity to let up so she could jump further out. It did let up for her...but just barely. She might have gotten a couple of inches from sheer will alone. The next few times she focused her attention on the areas of her body that reacted during the last big shift of gravity. A gradual change occurred... but not the one she wanted. Slowly, her body began to contort against her will. She was in a slow motion somersault, first forward then backward, pushing her partly down and then pulling her back up the trunk of the tree.
Sir Jane tried to change whichever centers she activated as she focused on her center of gravity- and this created another motion. This motion slowly pulled her back into her center of gravity against the tree, but it didn’t stop. The gravity became too strong for her legs and it forced her to lie down against the trunk. She couldn’t budge after a short while. It seemed like she’d be pulled into the trunk of the tree. As she waited, she noticed that she wasn’t binding with the tree. The gravity was pulling her against it and soon it was crushing her. The pressure was something she hadn’t experienced before and the overwhelming sensation kept her from breathing. The slits in her neck opened up and breathed for her. The skin on her back was getting pierced by the bark of the tree. The pressure on her bones became painful as she started shifting focus wherever she could. She heard the creak of her bones as they started to break and Sir Jane screamed out loud.
As the crunch of several bones created a silence within her, all at once, she became aware of 3 forces. One force was the general sense of self in her body, the second was the presence of the tree, and the third was the gravity field in which her and the tree were surrounded in. That instance of pain and clarity set Sir Jane upon her feet. Gravity wasn’t working against her in any direction now; it was holding her like an invisible hand. If it even held her to the tree at all she would have been in horrific pain. She was already in enough already, hanging there limply staring down at the ground. In her mind the 3 forces remained... she had an awareness of them. The combination of thoughts formed a symbol in her mind which was easy to set aside but remain aware of.
The skin on her back, and the backs of her arms, legs, and head were deeply indented by impressions made from the bark. Some fragments of bark remained embedded in her flesh. She couldn’t move her arms even to feel the impressions which were at least an inch deep in places. Her arms were broken. Her legs were broken. She knew there were broken ribs and possibly some broken vertebrae. She looked like she was standing against the trunk but she was not. She was a hunk of conscious meat, somewhat tenderized, suspended in the air by a giant invisible hand of magnetic force fields. Sir Jane hung there for awhile just taking it all in.
The symbol was weighing heavily in her mind and she concentrated on it. She thought of it sexually. She wanted to merge with it because it was more "there" to her than even she was. It overwhelmed her and she gasped, but she wouldn’t let go of the focus. She felt the symbol close in around her and then blot her out completely. All she was aware of for the next few minutes was the symbol.
In those few minutes a lot had happened. Sir Jane woke up on the ground and immediately her memory caught her up. "Jane", it said, " Jane, you were suspended in the air near the top of that tree." Her eyes glanced over at the tree... she remembered. "You made a sound and then you fell to the ground. Your body was badly broken from the fall. Your limbs were twisted around in ways they shouldn’t have been. There was blood all over the place. It was pouring out from many cuts on your body. Your eyes were closed but you could still see, and you untwisted your limbs to lay straight on the ground. I didn’t see what moved you... it couldn’t be seen. Your blood turned into a metallic liquid and continued to pour out of your body, but it did so slower and slower. The liquid moved over your body in ways it shouldn’t have. It started going into you through cuts and the pores of your skin. Something happened in the ground. There were movements in the soil and you were looking slowly and steadily from side to side. Worms came up out of the dirt and entered into your body from the tips of your fingers and toes. You opened up and let the worms right in. The worms merged with the bones in your hands and feet and proceeded to travel through your entire skeletal system. Each worm fused itself to bone and this repaired all the broken bones in your body."
She put her hands out in front of her face, still lying on the ground. They were alive in a way that was new to her. They felt different and they moved different. Like cartoon hands- the tiny limbs moved on their own, making random gestures, following no particular rhyme or reason. She stared at fingers that seemed to have lost their bone structure, and looking down she saw the same with her toes. Sir Jane tried to get up but her arms fell limp to the ground. She was laying flat on her back. She couldn’t feel her muscles anymore. She didn’t have control of any part of her body. She could feel it like some alien growth writhing around on its own accord. Her body started moving like a new organism slowly along the dirt. Her arms, legs, buttocks, and hair felt around the dirt like a newborn amoeba, pulling her slowly along. Her eyes were looking straight ahead but she had no control of them. She was being dragged by her body for the better part of a half hour when the big cat decided to pounce.
The Big Cat
The big cat noticed the scent of blood and the scent of something strange maybe a half a mile away. It didn’t take too long to catch up to what the smell was. It was a wounded creature pulling itself along slowly. The big cat noticed that the scent of blood was gone, but the creature was obviously dying. It was dragging itself like a crippled rabbit.
Without much of a second thought, the big cat pounced at the wounded creature and then blacked out.
Sir Jane had nothing to do with what happened... she only observed it. As the mountain lion’s jaw opened up inches from her face, her own arm shoved her hand into its throat and then pulled out its tongue. There appeared a look of shock on the animal’s face... a look of betrayal. It held that look for under 10 seconds and then died.
Sir Jane’s other arm, which wasn’t busy holding the tongue, grabbed the mountain lion by it’s tail, and her body began to drag it on it’s own accord. After another 15 yards her body entered into the hollow of a large tree and then it started digging down into it. Sir Jane did feel nervous at this so she tried to relax what part of her was still hers. She had a strange sensation that she was relaxing her body... but not the body that was pulling her into the ground. It was like a body within that body. It didn’t seem to function in a physical way, although she did feel like it was relaxing. After Sir Jane was submerged, the lion was pulled into the ground.
Batman Returns
Stanley woke up to the smell of smoke in the air. 20 yards away he saw the barn destroyed by a fire. It was collapsed on the ground charred black breathing smoke like a burnt offering– someone had dragged him out. ‘How could they?’, he thought, "How could they let me live?" He looked over at the house, it too was smouldering like a dying campfire. His father hadn’t been so lucky, if survival was in fact luck. Groaning, he pulled himself to his feet and staggered towards the lake at the edge of his family’s property.
He was pretty beat up but that’s all. No death. He wondered why no one took the opportunity to hack him to pieces... or worse. Some big guy walked up and knocked him out in one punch... but what that all? Did they forget? They must have burned the barn and house then simply wandered off. He reached up to his face and felt the rubber mask. It was still there.
When he reached the lake he saw the sun rise and slowly the reflection of his mask appeared in the water. Batman. ‘I’m a very bad man.’, Stanley thought, ‘I’m the worst kind of man.’ "I’m no super hero!!", he screamed and pulled at his mask to throw it in the lake. It didn’t budge. Stanley pulled harder and cried to himself over and over, "I’m no super hero... I’m no super hero." The mask was stuck. It wouldn’t come off. He felt horrible. It was too much. The mask had to come off. If it wouldn’t let him throw it in the lake, he’d have to deliver it himself.
Stanley waded in slowly. The sun was still rising and it left beautiful colors on the water’s surface. "Peace, peace... I want peace", he repeated... and soon the water was over his head.
He started to struggle almost immediately but managed to walk out deeper. He let his breath go and immediately water rushed in filling his nose and throat. Stanley convulsed as instinct took over but only for a minute. His body relaxed... it was peace. He felt the most at peace as he ever had before– as if being cradled in the palm of God.
The palm had different plans though. A driving force blew Stanley out of the water onto shore! He landed on his back vomiting water all over himself. He lurched forward and projected a stream of water from his mouth to the water’s edge and then clutched his throat. Stanley gasped- then Stanley breathed.
"Not just yet Batman.", said a voice. Stanley turned around and saw no one there. He tried to speak but couldn’t. "We’re in the water, yes...Right in front of you." Stanley saw... fish. There were a bunch of fish staring at him in the shallow water. "Yes, we’re fish Batman... and you’re in World War 3."
‘World War 3?’, he thought. "Yes Stanley, World War 3.", a fish said, "Except this war is inside people’s heads and it won’t be long before the war is over. Before you ask, yes, it’s true that we can read your thoughts. That’s how we knew to save you. You have a healthy mind set."
"You’re not a killer any more Batman.", another fish interjected, "We can see that the shaman has saved you."
"Yes she has saved you Stanley", the closer fish went on, "And we are going to help you to save her."
"The girl with the pig?", he finally managed to say.
‘Yes Batman... the girl with the pig.’
Back at the Warehouse
I started to realize something. It was the true evil nature of man. How long did it take for people to sell themselves over- to trade family members like veal cutlets. I remembered some times in my life when I was a coward. When somebody was pushing a friend of mine around and I was too scared to do anything about it. They were bullies and I was weak. Just like so many of these people I see around. The bullies were showing their colors at the top of the food chain. Society reached out to the bully in everyone and created a frozen world. Fear greets each person easily in their world. It gets inside of them until they learn to use it against other people. At first they can’t help it, releasing excess fear. But then they become accustomed to it, and they begin to enjoy it- scaring the hell into each other. Murder, rape, status quo comparisons. The way somebody says hi to you when they really don’t want you around. The use of sex for promotion... now law.
I knew it was the CEO on the billboard. I knew it was the lobbyist attached to the CEO, and I knew it was the new God Wealth. The few became fully addicted to needing more and they were destroying our world doing it. I wanted to bring them down. I wanted to bring down the men who were changing us. I wanted to tear that swollen knot out of the fabric and turn Hell back into Purgatory.
People were with me. We didn’t want to wait around down here trying to survive until they snuffed us out. Jimmy and Darkwing were kinda quiet about taking serious action, but Novocaine, Annie, and Jack were all over it. We had been sneaking people into the sewers to live for awhile now and it was getting hectic. People generally weren’t in the best of shape after being woken up by the Replacement System. We had a variety of born again Christians, New Age Revelers, Born Again Buddhists, converts to Islam, and a surprising number of Jedi converts.
When people woke up it was a profound experience, and for many of them horrifying. Jumping into a religious framework or changing one religion for another became a standard mode of operation. The confusion created from this phenomenon was thick. Arguments broke out regularly because of the enormous ties people couldn’t help but have to these belief systems. More people arrived every day and most were willing to join in the search for food and water... but it was getting crowded just the same. We thought it was only a matter of time before they knew we were down here. Then all they’d have to do is drop grenades or poisonous gas. It was well agreed upon that the time had come to act.
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