Children of the Program (15 page)

              “I want that.”

              “Just like him, they spend their free time intoxicating their minds, knowing the reality of tomorrow will someday come pounding on their front door.  The repossession agent is sent for us all.  He will lead them back, and force them to toil and till for their indebted existence.  They will be forced to pay for the life they borrowed and fantasized in.  Coping by doping, they are slaves.”

              “Do you believe all of that?” The whites of Crystal's eyes looked up with longing.

              “It's all I believe.  Our lives were cooked up by Wall Street.  Their ideals were painted on the canvas of our unsuspecting youth.  They didn't have a choice in being sold off as a stock option.  These beautiful children, full of life and spirit, were sold on the black market and placed directly into the wallet of the beast.  They never had a chance to play their hand.  It was a non-negotiation.  The beast is growing.  It's hungrier than ever,” said Dez.

              “No future?”

              “They spend their whole lives chasing an imaginary plateau, told, 'If you try hard enough, you might be great, someday!'”

              “It's not true, is it?” she asked softly.

              “It never was.  What I saw in the desert would blow your mind.  If the government is able to erase our internal compass, what will guide us?  Let me ask you, why do you know right from wrong?” asked Dez.

              “Conscious?”

              “Yes!  Our limited conscious is what makes us human.  Our ignorance, in some strange way, is a gift.  We're born with a simple barometer to measure our actions by,” said Dez.

              “True.”

              “What if that instrument, the only thing separating us from animals, was gone?  They have innocence, we have ignorance.  What if one thing had neither?  What if our love and connection was swapped out for mechanics and technical savvy?  People are connected because we share something innate.  It wouldn't take long before we were no longer able to recognize each other or the beauty of being alive.  Our role on this planet would be trivial and only benefit those who engineered this perversion to make themselves more money.”

              “That makes a lot of sense,” acknowledged Crystal.

              “A lot of this goes against me, too.  I have terrible dreams.  I'm haunted.”

              “My heart is with you, I just need to know we're doing the right thing and that you love me!”

              “The truth is, I do.”

              Dez leaned in for a kiss.  Without another word, he led her to the trailer to consummate.  Though by gag order, he extended a warm closing to the others, before silencing the camp.  His demeanor was soothed by Crystal's trusting nature.  Lobbying for a genuine connection, his heart pounded for notice.  He didn't want to risk their relationship, and knew her trust could be resurrected with attention.  Always wearing a mask, he sometimes forgot how to take it off, be in the moment and allow himself to be loved.  His inferno of anger had a way of pulling him back into the spiraling abyss of a bottomless well.  The more his heart opened, the worse his dreams became.  Fluttering through his frontal lobe was an avian onslaught.  The Council was relentless.

+++

              A few weeks had passed since Simon's murder and the group was fixing for blood.  Their enthusiasm waxed like a lion and waned like a lamb.  On a cool winter's morning, during their ritual breakfast gathering, Michelle brought rejuvenating news to the group.  “Max and I have lassoed a small Italian
Cadence.  They are willing to knock down the doors and kill Juno.  I have run them through a gauntlet of qualifying questions.  We are convinced that they are fully committed to our mission, and are our best hope to march forward.  We're ready to send a message!  What do you want us to do?”

              Dez stood up to claim ownership.

              “I could sense our next big break was coming.  It was wise for us to wait.  Are you confident that this new foreign sect is secure and our whereabouts will remain untraceable by Italian law enforcement?” asked Dez.

              “Yes, I've been communicating through private message boards and sending numeric beeper codes from disposable cell phones.  The communications take longer to decipher, but we're clear.  They've been following our chapter for months, even prior to our inquiries.  They'd have had no reason for suspicion or interest in us,” said Michelle.

              “Perfect!  Put them on the mission.  They are allowed one final communication when the job is done.  We'll need to distance ourselves from the site and any further correspondences.  This act will surely gain the attention of the group that Simon was deeply entrenched with.  They claim to be like us.  They are wolves in sheep’s' clothing.”

              “Who are they?” asked Michelle.

              “They are their own champions and we are their detractors,” Dez muttered, cryptically.

              Walking with a purposeful strut, Michelle walked from the gathering to deliver the horrifying directive.  Her work had won Dez's favor and cast Max into the shadows.  So long as he didn't slip any further, he was comfortable with her adoration and growing rank.

              In numeric code she texted her Italian counterparts the word:  “Anew.” 

             
It was their cue to kill Juno.

The Italian Cadence received the encoded message and began plotting.  They followed Juno for days and studied her habits.  It was imperative that their message was clear, their crime was clean, and that her new husband wouldn't be around.  Michelle directed them to leave a simple note on her corpse, stating, “The end of your new beginning starts tonight,” per Dez’s request.

chapter 24

lottery of the souls

Screams filled the Hallway of Sorrows.  Though prayers and pleading were of no consequence, their imprisoned souls beckoned for release.  The stench of decaying humanity singed their nostrils.   Hawking screams, from those tortured mercilessly, maddened them.  They never drifted, nor were given a moment to forget.  The Hallway of Sorrows was littered and stacked with billions of naked reasons to never wish a return.  They awaited a chance to someday reenter the beautiful world they'd once taken for granted.  The smell of spring flowers, the sight of an ocean's horizon and the calming sounds of children playing on a warm summer afternoon were now memories haunted by a poltergeist.  Left staring into the pits of the underworld, they were reduced to a graveyard of useless and repulsive human vehicles.  The laws of The Council determined which tragic offenders would be sentenced.  When a soul's punishment was fulfilled, it was ushered to the Hallway of Sorrows for further review.

              “The Program must be reset,” proclaimed Isis.  “New participants are needed.  Our brave new world must be balanced.  The population has grown immensely.  Evolution is needed, as they continue to breed new life and hope into future generations.  Humanity is our greatest success.  We must not waver.”

              “A world at odds can never find balance.  Willing to swan dive into the raging inferno and to die forevermore, for a mere moment to relish in their physicality, they are a cesspool of disappointment.  They are destined to repeat their mistakes, fail and toil.  They are cowards, hiding from the truth,” crowed Than.

              “We are one body.  Without one, there cannot be another,” added Ath.

              “It will be this way in the end.  It was this way when it began,” riddled Anan.

              The Council's existence relied on one conscious.  In light, the darkness lurked; with knowledge, ignorance evolved; in death, the phoenix rose; in time, space bore infinity.  A new universe opened, with every potential outcome in the physical realm.  This constituted the matrix of the continuum.   Linear time, as a memory, was an illusion created by man's decisions within an evolving space.  Parallel universes and scenarios enabled choice. 

              The Lottery of the Souls was based on three distinct classes of awareness, and determined by previous lifetimes and past experiences.  There were the muses; sent to bring light and distraction from man's everyday struggle to survive.  There were the warriors; sent to lead and protect the world from itself.  Finally, there were the intellects; sent to define the elements of life and expand the human conscious.  These classes were essential in maintaining a balance.  If the world became overly distracted or entertained, it would fail to seek purpose.  If the world became too focused on knowledge, it would fail to find humility and be blinded from the abstract tapestry.  Without protection, governments would fail to sustain, and people would be left with little opposition to their impulses.  War was a necessary evil.  It reflected humanities desire for anew.

              The four birds took their angelic shape and gathered around the four corners of the onyx table to receive the new members of The Program.  Some entities were returning, while other positions were backfilled.  The process for choosing the souls was based on a light sequence.  Surrounding the crystal room, countless lifetimes played on the majestic walls.  No soul could be chosen without a revelation from The Beyond.  When called upon, a magnificent light shined down and engulfed the room.  It illuminated the scalar fields of dark energy, where the floor had given way.  The funneled spectrum filled the void, with the point of intersection resting on the darkest point of the abyss.  The swirling light pulled the lifetimes from the crystal walls and spiraled them toward the beginning.

              A positive flare triggered an outward pulse, when a Programmer entered The Beyond.  This energy was the source of all recognizable light in existence.  The new lifetime resting at the point of intersection entered The Program.  Once selected, images of the chosen one's lifetimes would play in the colorful cone for The Council to witness.  They would then engrave the soul name upon a golden throne and accept The Beyond's selection.  From the beginning, this was the way of the lottery. 

              “Take Dez Nave from the underworld!” proclaimed Than.

              “Pull Neco Baal from the Hallway of Sorrows.” insisted Isis.

              The others were called in similar succession, until they were all brought before The Council to reset The Program.  Though their wrongs during The Program would not be recorded in the Book of Records, their previous lifetimes determined death's due.  The Program would not reset until all of their souls returned or entered The Beyond. 

+++

Simon awaited his fellow Programmers in the Hallway of Souls, unable to connect.  He never risked revealing his identity to the ones passed over.  He longed for justice, but knew he had to accept the discomfort of his current situation, and allow free will to remain free.  His only source of optimism lied in knowing he'd someday leave the Hallway of Souls and be set forth on a more fruitful mission.  He could also breathe easy knowing he'd forever be spared the underworld. 

              Knowing Dez's intentions riddled his conscience. 

              “If he's able to kill the Crystalline children and the Programmers, how long before the world is pulled from darkness?” questioned Simon.  “Without an immediate intervention from The Council, will everything be lost?”  He knew The Program had been around since light, but questioned the implications of their actions.  “I'm the kiss of Judas.  I'm partly to blame, but stand free of judgment.  How will Dez be punished for his crimes against humanity?  “If he's allowed to run free, are we at the whim of Dez's insanity, forever?  He needs to be forced out of The Program!  He needs to pay.”   When justice fled reason, these were the types of questions and consequences that plagued Programmers.  Simon ached for another moment to save humanity, and test Dez.

+++

              The Council communicated with humanity through:  symbolism, synchronicity and animals.  The instincts of animals are paramount in reminding humans of their mortality and the simplicity of love.  Their messages often go undetected, due to their inability to be seen as rational beings.  Some animals teach us about unconditional love and others about unrequited.  These reminders are the toolbox of a broken system.

              Awaking in a vision, Neco stood naked in the snow covered desert.  He walked solemnly back to the original gathering circle.  The fallen black birds remained.  Upon witness, they flew back to the heavens.  In a mind's blink, he was again holding hands with the members of The Program and reliving their revelations in reverse.  The sequence continued until he was sitting on the gathering circle with Ash nestled in his lap.  He immediately noticed Simon's absence.  The gray bird then led him to the Hallway of Sorrows.  Simply uttering, “The absent one,” Simon reached for him.  One by one, the entire hallway began chanting the word, “Go!” 

              Isis then took him back to the circle, and spoke.  “The Crystalline children will be forever identifiable by their indigo colored eyes and have the innate ability to excel in fields, which others will spend their lifetime mastering.  They will establish new governments, masquerade as provident entertainers and bring new technologies to our aging doorsteps.  They've always been here.  Their mission is simply to enhance the human experience and reinforce a belief in The Beyond.  They've inspired hope and religion, and captured our imaginations.  The Program was developed by us for us, and its purity relies on a healthy degree of lawlessness.  Now, do as they said, and go!”

              The gray bird, Than, then took him to a beautiful gallery and showed him a canvass oozing with fresh blood.  It read, “Ashes to ashes, we all fall down.”  He awoke to the sound of a gray bird slamming into his bedroom window.