Progtopia: Book 1 of The Progtopia Trilogy (14 page)

Montgomery embraced Franklin, Peter, and Benson, welcoming them home. He knew Barbara had been killed, and her absence was obvious. As he embraced Camille, he softly spoke, “You were special to Barbara, Camille. I’m glad you’re here.”

She looked at Montgomery with a tear in her eye. “I’m not going to let her down.”

“Good. Now let me show you this place. We call it
the shire
.”

Montgomery led them down a long passageway where they entered a central area connecting to three other hallways. He then continued to the left. As the group traveled, they noticed the walls were made of glass giving them a direct view of the offices they walked by. Filled with people diligently working on computers, Montgomery turned to Camille and said, “The glass gives everyone a sense of openness even though we are two miles below ground.”

They reached the end of the corridor where they entered a large room filled with hundreds of screens on the walls with a mammoth one dominating the room. That one displayed a detailed map of the world with tiny red dots moving on the screen. Montgomery pointed to it and told them the dots represented the exact location of every member of the resistance. He went on to explain they had some of the best scientists and engineers working with them who had created a small GPS biochip implanted under each operative’s skin via injection. He turned to the group and asked them if they wondered how Benson knew exactly where they were in the cemetery. Franklin had a biochip.

As the group stood in the command center, another man, in military garb, approached Benson and Franklin, indicating they needed to be briefed on an urgent matter. The Wizard, already aware of the situation, offered to take Camille and Peter on the rest of the tour while the two men were briefed. He led Camille, Peter, and Bailey from the command center, showing them the remainder of the facility which included a small hospital, chapel, synagogue, laboratories, eating facilities, living quarters, a gym, and finally, the library.

When they entered the library, Peter and Camille couldn’t help but notice the large quote in bronze letters spanning the entire length of the wall.

“Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn’t pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children’s children what it was once like in the United States where men were free.”
Ronald Reagan March 30, 1961.

Montgomery, noticing their reaction to the quote, was happy to see they got it. They could see why they were there, and that is exactly why he chose that quote to be displayed. He went on to explain that they would spend their time in the library going to school. He emphasized that education was the foundation to freedom, and knowledge of history was paramount to the success of the resistance.

Peter and Camille looked at each other, not really sure what was ahead of them. Being the only teens there, they were at least relieved they had each other.

Twenty-six

The Year: 2173

The Burton Center was slowly filling with government officials, dignitaries, and celebrities. There was a buzz in the air not felt in several years.
The Trials
was opening with a star-studded affair. Jonathan Kelleher knew The Burton Center, the premier place for theater and entertainment, was the perfect venue to resurrect the floundering show. The Center was a mammoth hall with private open balcony sections holding parties of up to six guests and surrounding the general auditorium seating. It was a magnificent replica of a late-nineteenth-century theater with hand-carved crown molding and intricate handcrafted wood façades for the private viewing boxes. The general auditorium seating was not without its luxurious touches—seats made of red velvet, armrests individually handcrafted by carpenters who received quanta cogs giving them the motor skills and knowledge of intricate wood-carving techniques. The modern Center was tastefully disguised by replicas of times gone by. Lighting was generated by nuclear fission bulbs hidden by what appeared to be gas lamps—the common form of lighting during that era. The only aspect of the Center that gave away its true age was the modern visual effects that often took place on the stage.

Thatcher and Thomas, walking arm in arm, were ushered toward their private box overlooking the crowd below. Once they were settled, they gazed upon the almost empty stage with only two comfortable chairs placed in its center. Thatcher knew those chairs were designated for Cassandra Williams and her brother, Jonathan, who would be announcing those who would be put on trial. This year’s spectacle was a departure from the usual opening of
The Trials
. Typically, those who were to stand trial were announced on VRS, and proceedings would commence the following day. Because Jonathan understood the ratings were in decline, he decided to try a new approach. He borrowed an idea from the reality show concept that started in the late twentieth century in the United States. When Jonathan was commissioned to take over the production piece of
The Trials
, he studied the popular and long-standing successful entertainment trends from the past. The reality show concept had taken on various forms ranging from game shows to following people around in their daily lives. Even though there were different forms of reality entertainment, the common theme was they were wildly popular. He was convinced this change would not only put the show in the number one spot, but it would also be the most talked about throughout the world.

The lights in the auditorium flickered, signaling five minutes until the start of the show. Thomas took Thatcher’s hand and gave it a squeeze, not wanting to let go. He loved her dearly and was contemplating proposing to her in the very near future. He wasn’t sure how to do it, but he wanted it to be romantic and memorable. He still hadn’t overcome the hurdle of getting permission from her father. “So what do you think your brother has planned tonight?”

“I really don’t know. He hasn’t shared any of the details with me. He hasn’t even discussed them with my father. He usually keeps things quite close to his vest, but even for him, his cloak of secrecy is quite intense. What I know is what the world knows—nothing.”

“Well, that isn’t exactly true,” Thomas laughed, and trying to imitate Jonathan’s voice said, “we all know that,
if you miss the announcement, you will miss history!
”

“I know,” Thatcher said, rolling her eyes, “if I had to see that commercial with him saying that phrase one more time, I was going to scream! I have to say, though, it probably worked. I don’t think anyone wants to miss tonight’s show. It better be good, or he will be a laughingstock.”

Thatcher and Thomas continued to survey the crowd below, as well as the dignitaries who were filling the private boxes. She spotted her father and mother in one of the boxes on the other side of the hall. She waved, but they didn’t see her. She couldn’t believe the turnout for this event. There wasn’t an empty seat, and although watching the opening event was mandatory for the Recipient Class, the feedback they were receiving from the biometric suits was they were excited for the show.

The lights dimmed, and the chatter among the crowd started to quiet down until one could hear a pin drop. The entire hall was completely dark. Moments passed, when suddenly, two small beams of light broke through the darkness—one shining on the left side of the stage and the other on the right. After a few moments, Cassandra Williams exited stage left and Jonathan Kelleher exited stage right. Applause erupted as the beams of light followed them to the center of the stage where they took their seats. The only light in the hall was on Cassandra and Jonathan. Cassandra was first to speak.

“Good evening. Tonight, I’m here with Jonathan Kelleher, who is going to take us through the new format of
The Trials
and announce the selections.” She turned toward Jonathan and said, “Mr. Kelleher, I know we’ve talked off-camera, and you’ve explained to me what is planned for this year’s event. I admit, it sounds very exciting. Would you like to share the details tonight?”

“Cassandra, I would love to. As many of you know, I work for the Ministry of Justice and Reeducation, and I take my commission there very seriously. In order for our society to function without war, conflict, starvation, and disease, we must continue to adhere to the regulations that have brought the human race to the golden age, the Progtopia. Every decision that is made, every regulation passed, is done so for the good of the people. Although an individual discretion or deviation from the law may seem innocuous or relatively benign, that single action can be like throwing a pebble into a still lake. That one splash causes a ripple, emanating from its center, disturbing the stillness and peacefulness of the lake. The State has worked too hard to provide for its people to have an individual cause ripples.”

Cassandra appeared to be in deep thought, taking in each and every word Jonathan had just said, as though she had just heard it for the first time. She and Jonathan had, in fact, rehearsed this several times before tonight’s event. She needed to pause momentarily for effect then proceeded with her line of questioning.

“My, Jonathan, what a wonderful analogy. Staying with that theme, the pebble—the person who commits a crime or deviates from the law—you arrest them and punish them according to the nature of their crime. You remove the pebble. So why have a public trial?”

“Cassandra, it’s simple. Everyone needs to be reminded not only why the pebble is dangerous, but also that the peacefulness of the lake exists because of the State. The rules and regulations of the State, and the way our society is designed, are the reasons we all enjoy safety and security in our everyday lives. Remember, there was once a time when humans suffered from disease, disability, starvation, homelessness, unemployment, murder, and war. Freedom from those ills is because of the State. I believe public trials are a way to remind everyone of that fact. Plus,” he said with a smile, “
The Trials
are entertaining.”

“What is so entertaining about this year’s
Trials
as opposed to the ones in the past?”

“For starters, as you can see, the way we are announcing the people who will be on trial has changed. In addition, we usually start the day after the announcement, but this year, we will not start for a week. Each evening, we will have a special dedicated to the proceedings. We will interview those who have been selected and discuss their case and as well as the crime they committed.”

“Will everyone still be able to vote on the punishment?” Cassandra asked.

“The public will still be able to vote on the punishment, but the punishment choices have changed. Death will still be on the table, but reeducation will no longer be the other choice. We are offering a mystery punishment as the other option.” With this revelation, excited murmurs filled the audience.

“Mystery?” said Cassandra. “What do you mean by that?”

“The other punishment will be unknown to the public unless it is voted on to be the punishment. If all the criminals are chosen for the death penalty, then we will never know what the
mystery
punishment is.” Jonathan knew a tease like this would pique interest.

“Can you give us a hint? A clue?”

“I can tell you this,” Jonathan said looking into the camera, “it will be entertaining.”

“Well, Mr. Kelleher,” she said, leaning over, touching his knee with her hand, “should we get to it?” She turned toward the audience. “I think they share my sentiment. Who will be on trial this year?”

With that, the audience started to applaud, and without any prompting, it became thunderous and sustained for what seemed like an eternity. Thatcher was clapping out of obligation, but was surprised by the overwhelming response on display. Deep inside, she fundamentally disagreed with her brother. She knew the truth behind the Crash. She emphatically believed if those behind the applause and whistles, who were encouraging her brother, understood what really happened, their excitement would wane. She at least hoped it would, but the possibility did exist people were okay with the way things were. Maybe they defined freedom as safety and security, being taken care of by the State, and not what she knew it to be.

As the applause finally died down, Jonathan looked upon the crowd with a large grin. “Well, let’s not keep you waiting. We have four people who will be on trial this year, and instead of me introducing them, I will let you see for yourselves.”

The lights faded, and the image of a wheat field appeared on stage. Amazing technology was on display—the visual effects were so realistic that the audience felt as though they could reach out and touch the wheat. There were additional elements of the outdoors—a gentle breeze blew as the freshness filled the nostrils of the spectators—all of these features solidified the virtual experience. A tall man in a plaid shirt and jeans sauntered into the middle of the field. Although appearing real, Thatcher quickly recognized it was a hologram of the famous President Burton who had been heralded as saving mankind for shepherding them through the Crash.

“Welcome,” he said with his arms outstretched and a kind smile. “All of you are living and experiencing the perfect human utopia that my generation and generations before me worked so hard to achieve. There was a time when the human condition was not perfect, and in fact, tragic.” Instantly the field transformed into a medical facility with a neonatal intensive care unit toward his right. There were people in wheelchairs with ventilators behind him, and children with severe mental and physical disabilities to his left. The aseptic smell of the hospital filled the auditorium, enhancing the virtual reality experience. He walked over to the neonatal intensive care unit, where two parents were hovering over an incubator, comforting each other while watching their child struggle to live.

“This scene, typical during my time, devastated parents as well as the doctors who worked tirelessly to save the sick, imperfect children. The result? Death or worse. If they lived, they ended up like this,” he said pointing to his left. He drifted toward the disabled children we were drooling and staring off into space without limbs—with prosthetics or in wheelchairs. Appearing disgusted by the scene, he questioned, “What use are these people to anyone? All they did was drain society and cause suffering in their parents’ hearts. They provided no contribution to the human race.

“Now,” he said as the scenery once again changed to a room filled with technicians working under sterile hoods, “we have our life factories, where life is started and controlled by the State. We have perfected the development of human life! Our geneticists and scientists have ensured only the healthiest of our race survive and move on to live in our State-run homes and education centers where our children’s talents are developed.”

As he said this, he was standing in a classroom filled with boys dressed in their light blue biometric suits, receiving instruction from their teacher. The scene continued to change around him with the same group of boys eating in a cafeteria, performing calisthenics, and going to sleep in their bunk beds. The hologram President then said, “Unlike in my day, the State raises our children. Our children can focus on their studies and duties without interference from parental conflict or opinion.” The scene once again transformed to a gymnasium with parents standing in line, speaking with their children’s teacher. “In my day, parents were a part of their children’s education.” At that revelation, an audible gasp emanated from the audience surprised that parental influence was once so strong.

The scene switched to a wedding being performed in a synagogue. He was standing next to the bride and groom while they were taking their vows. Turning to the audience, he stated, “Marriage and religion—no two things caused more war, conflict, and economic decay in human history. There were about as many people in love”—he said while demonstrating air quotes with his hands—“as there were getting divorced.” The room converted from a synagogue to a courtroom where the same couple, previously getting married, was now standing on opposing sides with three children sitting behind them. “The time, money, energy, and sadness created by this so-called emotion of love did nothing but inhibit the productivity of our people. It is well-proven that since the dissolution of marriage among the Recipient Class, their productivity has increased and remained constant.”

President Burton was now standing among the Founding Fathers of the United States of America while they were signing the Declaration of Independence on July 4th, 1776. “The great experiment of a constitutional republic was an abysmal failure. This so-called
freedom
and
capitalism
generated a society of competition. The attitude that resulted in the Crash. That Constitutional Republic almost destroyed the entire human race.”

Thatcher could not believe her ears. She knew the truth, and this was not it. Freedom was being blamed for the Crash, making her more and more angry with her brother.