The Apostates (15 page)

“I’ve earned this: the view and the privacy. The Second Coming certainly isn’t going to deprive me of it,” she thought while gazing out toward the darkness enveloping the water. She walked into the tide barefoot. The water was frigid, but invigorating. She paced for a time, then decided she should return to her home. The path up from the beach veered through sand dunes and led up to the back porch of Kate’s mansion. A Ministry security guard stood at attention and held the screen door for Kate. She entered and dropped her sandy boots and socks on the porch floor. Kate summoned her retinal H.U.D. and the clock displayed midnight.

Kate entered the kitchen. She wondered what had been served for dinner and searched her refrigerator for the remains of the night’s meal. She spied sealed containers and pulled them out, placing them on the marble counter top. She unsealed the main course and identified the dish as a grilled salmon pasta, with a cream sauce base, tossed with leeks, peas, and shallots. The companion container harbored a kale salad. She dumped the pasta into a cast iron skillet to reheat it and took a few bites of the kale salad.

“Mother!” a voice called out.

“Simon, why are you up at this hour? Hasn’t
your D.A.D. got you ready for bed yet?” Kate had dropped a kale leaf off her
fork because her son startled her.

“Oh mother, I...wanted to stay
up...late...working on...calculations,” Simon had said, struggling to speak. He preferred to communicate with his neural implant, but would
mostly talk to his mother verbally.

“Besides...I worried...‘bout you,” Simon confessed with difficulty. He willed his Disability Assistance Drone to move closer to his mother. Kate gave him a kiss on the forehead, and he smiled as best he could, displaying delight.

“So, you must have eaten Simon, yes?” Kate asked while chewing a bite of salmon.

“Yes...mother...dinner was good,” Simon
confirmed.

“Okay, I’m glad that you were taken care of!” she said to Simon while finishing the last of her pasta.

“Mom, mom...I want to...show you—my calculations...accept the communication!” Simon tried to gesture to his head. Kate got the idea that he wanted to transmit data to her. Simon pinged her with the data. She accepted, and the data transfer had begun. A split second later she was looking over the math. When she realized what she was looking at she was troubled and amazed all at once. Simon had taken into account all the stadiums and theaters still standing from the Old World that had been converted to churches. Then he figured the number of declared Virtuous citizens within the country and calculated the holding capacity of the all the stadiums and theaters. The number he came to was nine million, five hundred thousand, and six hundred and two. It was the sum total of Virtuous souls that would be “claimed” by the Rapture during the B.A.G.

This figure, of course, did not include the Virtuous crowds outside the venues or the members of the Regime armed forces on bases around the country, and others. But, she thought her son too innocent for this. Kate had never really exposed him to the teachings of the Reverend Wilhelm, but somehow he must have gained access to the broadcasts. Simon was a budding mathematician, an occupation the Regime frowned upon, but he would have had a future working for the Regime, had it not been ending soon.

Simon suffered from Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis or A.L.S. In the Old World it had been known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. It would have been a death sentence for most in New Megiddo, but Kate had power and influence. His D.A.D. certainly helped make his life easier. The D.A.D. unit was a pre-war prototype that the Regime had adopted and that Wynham Industries had refined. It was a lucrative contract since it was for the Minister of Security Services. The D.A.D. had several configurations it could assume: one was an upright seated position, another was a reclining position, and lastly, it could flatten completely into a bed configuration. In this position, a watertight shield could be affixed and then the D.A.D. could be attached to a water source and light jets of water would wash the body of the user, as to not present a drowning hazard.

“Alright kid, let’s get your D.A.D. to
tuck you in,” Kate suggested to Simon.

Simon gave his D.A.D. a command through
his neural implant and the machine escorted him to the bed chambers.

“Good..night.....mom!” He struggled to say as his
D.A.D. moved him steadily away.

Kate cleaned up her dishes and looked around the dark, empty house. Things had been different since Simon’s biological father was gone. Kate had thrown herself into her work—becoming the dreaded and ruthless Mother of Spies for the Regime. Previously she had been handed the role and just barely filled it. To her, it was just another cushy Regime appointment she received for being the President’s daughter.

Even though they had married, she did not
take her husband’s name. Why would she? Kate was a member of the First Family.
Martino Franco had been a Regime scientist and programmer. Martino had been
much older than Kate when they were married. He had been involved with some top
secret Regime project, ages ago. But he still carried much clout and
recognition, especially from her father, the President. Although Martino wasn’t
as old as John W. Schrubb, it was apparent he had been receiving the same anti-aging
treatments the President had received. At first it was a total marriage of
convenience. Neither of them spent much time together, but Martino turned on
his “old school” Italian charm—the kind he learned from banned footage one
would find in a dose of ‘Database’.

Eventually, the marriage became romantic and Kate had conceived a child. That period of the marriage was joyful and hopeful, in their beach fortress by the sea. Like all things, this picture-perfect life did not last. When Kate had given birth to their son, Simon, they were given the diagnosis that he had been born with A.L.S., and while they could keep him alive indefinitely, he would be severely handicapped. Kate blamed Martino because of his age, and the marriage had never been the same. Kate lost herself in her work as the Minister and Martino began spending long hours in the Regime labs. While Martino had been toiling away within the labs, he had met the acquaintance of another female scientist and being the playboy type that he was, turned on the charm, and began an affair.

In time, Kate discovered the tryst that Martino was having. Her spies were everywhere. Kate didn’t particularly need Martino around anymore. He had given her a flawed son, and now he was having an affair behind her back. She was shocked that he would do this to the First Daughter.

One day, Kate had returned to her residence and had found that all of Martino’s possessions had been cleared out of the house. There had been a note left with Kate’s name on the envelope. When she opened it and unfolded the paper she had found the writing not to be in Martino’s hand. This was confirmation that the deed had been done. After this incident, no questions had been asked and no answers given. There was an understanding between Rodrigo and Kate.

Kate worked hard to suppress these memories once more. She undressed and jumped into the shower, scrubbing the sea salt and office grime off her slender frame. She went through her night time Regimen and put on her sleeping attire. She tucked herself into her king size, four-post bed. Kate let out an audible sigh, she had the world on her shoulders currently. She juggled all the various plots running around in her head. Kate would get very little sleep that night.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

The Greenbaums were just like any other
New Megiddo family. They went to work on time, paid their offerings to the
Church and Regime, and watched the Reverend’s services as was required by law.
The one difference from other families was that the fact they were Jewish. The
Church of New Megiddo tolerated Judaism because of the Book of Revelations.
After all, the site of the final battle according to the Bible was set in
Israel. But, since the country had been re-branded New Megiddo, and the Church
and Regime planned for the Second Coming to occur in this place, they needed
for some Jews to be around to legitimize the event.

They were a class apart from the citizens
that were deemed Virtuous, but they were allowed to practice their faith. Which
at least, was a step above the Muslims, who were forcefully converted,
deported, or disappeared by the Regime. The Church of New Megiddo used Jews
like the sports teams of the Twentieth century used indigenous people for
mascots.

Ernest Greenbaum was no helpless and single-minded Regime follower—he had used his considerable self-taught knowledge to his advantage, at least within the Regime limits of self-determination. Ernest had negotiated with trade companies who operated in the west—he worked with these companies to secure Regime funding for the expansion of trade and the rebuilding of infrastructure. His family had gotten to know Regime officials in their town. Ernest even had dealings with Wynham industry officials who traveled on the trade routes that Ernest had helped to improve.

Which is why, when the order for the town of Ukiah, the trade hub that the Greenbaums had helped rise to prominence, to be forced on Pilgrimage in preparation for the Second Coming, the Greenbaums had been secretly outraged. The Regime forces had instructed the people of Ukiah to only pack the bare necessities such as food and clothing. The people would be forced to leave their material possessions behind. After all, they would not need any of it in Paradise. The townspeople were ordered to assemble in the central square, lightly packed and ready to go. The people were to march to the edge of the California Great Lake and then board a ferry across, to disembark in New San Jose. From there, it would be a short march to the old Stadium where the B.A.G. would take place along with hundreds of other locations across New Megiddo.

Ernest had gathered his family together, his wife Gertrude, and son and daughter, Jacob and Teri, for the assembly in the town square. The family had the clothes on their backs, and personal luggage carried in a M.U.D. The Mobile Utility Drone was a small, all-terrain, automated storage unit that could haul stowed cargo, or transport a sick body if need be. Most families had one though a few less fortunate had to rely on pack animal pulled carts or worse: pulling one themselves. The Greenbaums were patiently waiting for something to happen; an announcement or speech. Ernest looked through the crowd and caught glimpses of the faces. The looks were of frustration, terror, annoyance, and fear. A few zealous individuals had been praising their Lord out loud.

“Ernest, we’ve been waiting here for two
hours. When will be leaving?” Gertrude, his wife, had
asked. She had been a state instructor at the local H.O.V.E.L. in Ukiah for
nearly two decades. Gertrude had instructed youth how to use their neural
implants to guide them in the pursuit of Regime values, on the path to being
declared Virtuous citizens. She had lived a veritable double life, because she
didn’t necessarily agree with the H.O.V.E.L.’s curriculum, but she wasn’t
actively opposing it either. Gertrude justified her position by telling herself
that she was just teaching the Church faithful what they wanted to learn. She
would train the next generation of Church followers. But now that life was
over, and uncertainty ruled today.

“I know, love, but be patient. They are bound to tell us when we are leaving soon enough,” Ernest told her while unsuccessfully trying to comfort her with an arm around her shoulder.

“Mother, I’m sure everything will work out
for us, right? Just another B.A.G.?” Teri tried to get reassurance from her parents.

“I’ve heard rumors. Like the return of the
Messiah or something,” Jacob recounted, his family ignored it.

Jacob and Teri were teenagers, just a year apart, fifteen and sixteen, Jacob being the eldest. The two, being Jewish were exempt from H.O.V.E.L.s, but still attended a state school. The two were fairly liked by the community at large, mainly because their father’s efforts brought a certain degree of prosperity to the settlement. Most towns and cities in the West were largely poverty stricken with the exception of a few government sectors and affluent enclaves. Ukiah had been transformed from a backwater to medium-sized trading center.

Lovers surrounded the town square on
rooftops and local peace officers moved about the perimeter. The tension built in the crowd of Ukiah
residents as the time wore on. They were agitated and people began yelling
obscenities and heckling the officers. A Regime official stood atop a personnel
carrier and demanded calm in the crowd. Someone in the crowd yelled back and
people began to get restless. Soldiers inched closer to the crowd with weapons
drawn, barking orders. The scene was ripe to explode when suddenly everyone in
the crowd was pinged by the Church of New Megiddo on their retinal H.U.D.s. The
people accepted the signal and opened a channel.

“My darling, faithful flock, I am very
proud to announce the beginning of our holy journey is at hand. Ten years ago I
had appeared to you much like I am now, and I ushered in the last holy
Pilgrimage, the journey that all Virtuous citizens undergo. The Pilgrimage
leads us to the Born Again Gathering, a time for renewal! It is a time to
reaffirm our faith in the Lord and His Son!” the Reverend gesticulated as he
gleefully shouted the words. The church organ blared in the background.

“Praise Jesus!” a random follower in the
audience had blurted.

“My followers, my brothers and sisters, I have more news for y’all! This is the culmination of my long career in service to the Lord! Let me tell you: we live in wicked times. Long ago the Lord would have used the elements at his disposal to destroy places of sin and false idols. He would send world-swallowing floods to wash away the wicked, or in the case of Sodom and Gomorrah, He used fire and brimstone to burn away the impurities! But, you see, the Lord is tired. He’s tired of washing us—cleaning our filth away! He’s fed up. The Lord had decided that a new approach was needed, to clean up the filth, and the sin, and the vice, and forever remove his Virtuous children from the taint and influence of Satan!” The Reverend was alluding to a big plan.

“Once all y’all faithful followers have finished the Pilgrimage and settled in to worship in one of the Lord’s gathering places around this blessed nation, we will have a day of rejoicing and reflecting on our journey together in New Megiddo. All the happy times that we have experienced together praising His name will be celebrated with a touching montage of our history, made by the talented interns at the Church central administration. Then at long last we shall all be graced with the Savior Jesus Christ descending from heaven, to save us all! That’s right! Jesus will shepherd us all, Virtuous of his flock, up into the sky to dwell in His Father’s realm for all eternity! Yes, I am not bluffing, the Second Coming shall occur! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” The Reverend was screaming hysterically. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head and veins protruded from his forehead. He turned red and his voice strained. The Reverend had a coughing fit. The majority of the crowd had started to chant along with the Reverend.

Ernest thought this announcement was
highly troubling, especially since his family did not share the beliefs of the
Church of New Megiddo. He wouldn’t know how exactly they would enable a
Rapture, especially because he knew better than to think that the Church could
predict the Second Coming itself if it were to happen. The only conclusion that
he could draw is that Regime and Church would take everyone’s lives.

“Ernest, dear, this Second Coming business
isn’t going to work for us.” Gertrude had a tendency to understate the
situation.

“I share your concern for our well-being. I’ll figure something out.” Ernest attempted to reassure her.

“We’re going to die? Are we even
compatible with their heaven?” Jacob asked, dissecting the situation.

“Everyone, don’t worry. Let’s just go
along with it for now. We can’t raise attention to ourselves.
Please!” Ernest tried to speak to his family in hushed tones. He knew that the
Church had eyes and ears everywhere.

“And so, my flock, without further ado, I hereby open the Pilgrimage to the B.A.G.! Let our holy journey commence. We shall walk out of our old lives, and into the arms of the Lord! See y’all at the B.A.G. God bless New Megiddo!” With that, the Reverend Wilhelm dissipated into a chaotic swirl of pixels and distortion. After a time, his form had dematerialized and the church music faded out, and the crowds retinal H.U.D.s deactivated. There was much chatter in the crowd. Most sounded very happy, all except the Greenbaums.

The officer standing atop the armored
vehicle barked out commands, “Okay, people, you heard the Reverend! It’s time
to get this show on the road. Everyone, gather your belongings!”

The armed officers and Lover forces began
to herd “the Flock” out of town.
People looked back longingly for Ukiah, as they crossed the city limits. The
euphoria of the Reverend’s sermon faded away, as people realized that they
would never see their homes again. Some were trying to console themselves
with the fact that they would be in Heaven soon. The Greenbaum family gazed at
the faces within the crowd, the dynamic of being the black sheep in the flock
was a strange one.

After several miles of walking Ernest had developed a thirst, so he grabbed a cateen filled with water from the family M.U.D. The true nature of this Pilgrimage almost immediately made itself available to Ernest, a forced march, and it was going on in hundreds of other locations across New Megiddo. Ernest had done ‘Database’ once or twice in his lifetime and he had “experienced” media reels and articles from the mid-Twentieth century—totalitarian Regimes committing atrocities against targeted populations. He couldn’t help but draw parallels to what was happening here.

“Father, how far is Nuevo San Jose, and do
we have to walk the entire way?” Teri had asked—she wasn’t wearing the
appropriate shoes for a hike.

“No, Teri, I think that we walk to the
Great Lake and then catch a ferry.” Ernest was trying to think of the geography
of the region.

“Oh, good. I think,” Teri responded dryly.

After the procession had traveled roughly fifteen miles on old route 101, the first victim was claimed by the Pilgrimage. An old man in his seventies suffered a heart attack. The Lover forces kept the procession moving. They assigned two personnel to bury the body by the roadside marked by a crooked cross. Ernest did not miss the tragic irony of the event, the man was killed in an effort to reach the location that his Messiah was to end his mortal life and whisk him away to the afterlife. The absurdity brought a brief smile to his face.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

The tour he was undergoing of all the B.A.G. venues had been affecting him. His gnarled, old joints complained about all the movement and travel he had undergone these last few days. The Arch-Deacon had been on a whirlwind tour up and down the East Coast to inspect the venues. He was on a personal crusade to ensure that no expense had been spared to create a feeling of majesty and awe for the Second Coming. Every little detail must be in place.

von Manstein had been traveling in a rustic, armored personnel carrier, which had been re-purposed as an official Church vehicle. He had fantasized about the days, a century ago, when Church leaders had luxury cars and private jets. What was this world now? A pale comparison to its past. Rusted and old, pocked-marked by the progress of the last few centuries. He thought it not worthy of his standards, so he would be happy to see it go. von Manstein theorized that the average citizen must live a short and miserable life, so he felt fine to make the decision to shepherd them to the Lord’s arms.

That is how he justified what he was
doing—he was fighting against suffering by ending miserable lives. He surmised
that this is the way the Reverend felt as well. Although he had been hurt that
the Reverend had favored Cardinal Zhukov by entrusted him with the destruction
of the Apostates. So, von Manstein would pour his heart and soul into
overseeing the preparations for the B.A.G. Already, there were throngs of
Pilgrims camped out for as far as the eye could see, waiting in anticipation,
he suspected, for the opening of the Gathering.

von Manstein made the observation that
they had started the Pilgrimage too early this year. The crowds of Faithful
would make it to the venues and they would not be open, so the adherents would
need to camp out for an extended period of time. von Manstein had foreseen a
crisis when he toured the camps and had observed that people only packed
provisions for a couple of days, assuming the Regime would take care of their
needs once they got to the B.A.G., but a week or more of camping was not
provisioned for. von Manstein entered the concern on his list of priorities,
somewhere near the bottom.

“Your holiness, we have reached the B.A.G.
venue,” the driver had announced, and then pressed the switch to
release the back ramp to the A.P.C., which lowered slowly to the ground
allowing the Arch-Deacon to step out, clad in his clergy garb.

“Where exactly is this?” von Manstein
asked with irritation in his voice.

“Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, your grace.
This is St. Vickers Stadium,” the driver gestured to the large, cracked, cement
monolith.

“Oh, yes, Saint Vickers, he was my
favorite,” von Manstein reminisced, a tear of joy ran down his face.

“Sir?” The driver asked.