The lights are down, so the crowd can’t really see us, but they know we’ve taken the stage. We freeze in our position; then a drumbeat begins to pound out a deep slow rhythm.
“Are you ready to rock?” the announcer yells.
The crowd cheers as beams of blue lights shoot straight up from the stage.
“I can’t hear you!” the announcer shouts as he drags the uuuuu.
The crowd responds predictably by screaming their heads off.
“Then get ready…”
The beat picks up.
“…For the greatest musical act in all the world!”
The outer stage, which I’m on, begins to spin slowly. The center platform lifts the musicians up in the air and spins them in the opposite direction. A simple far off melody begins.
“Youth Nation is proud to present… THE YOUTH MUSIC SINGERS!”
The lights go up, the music kicks in and the crowd goes wild. The concert has officially begun.
We start off by moving and grooving to the music. The crowd is into it; they love every second. Then the music breaks, and only the drums can be heard. That’s the cue for the rest of the Youth Nation dancers to come out.
Okay, time now for my solo. Before I belt out my first note, I tap my L-Chip just to make sure the microphone function is working. It is.
“To change the world, it starts with you,
To change the world, it starts with me.
If we change it together
We can change it forever.”
Not too bad, if I do say so myself. Now it’s Valerie’s turn to sing the chorus.
“Hate was our History, Hate was our song,
Diversity is our Destiny.
Come on and sing along.
Hate was our History, Hate made us fear,
When you experience tolerance
Everything is so clear!”
The music picks up and the place is rockin’. We’ve done this routine a hundred times, but tonight it feels fresh, it feels new. Val’s energy is electric and we’re all feeding off of it. Maybe it’s because she’s pregnant. Who knows, but whatever it is I don’t want it to stop.
“Is everyone having a good time?” Valerie calls out to the crowd. They of course cheer. The spotlight shines on her, but from where I stand, all I see is the silhouette of her beautiful body. I’ve got the best seat in the house.
“Do you all want to change the world?”
The crowd cheers.
“Then say it with me. Hate was our History! Diversity is our Destiny!”
The crowd responds accordingly. Val moves closer to the audience. “America was built on greed,” she shouts. “It was built on slavery; intolerance and death! White men stole from Native Americans; preachers preached of an angry God and corporations polluted the land. America was grim, dark and evil, but all that changed. It changed because of the youth; it changed because of young people just like you. It changed because of Youth Nation!” The sudden sound of the electric guitar punctuates Val’s statement. The distortion resonates throughout the arena. We start singing the chorus once again, “Hate was our History, Hate was our song…” But this time the crowd joins in. We finish and the audience goes crazy, and that was just the first song. Val turns and winks at me; I wink back. This pisses off Taryn to no end. She hates it when I flirt with Val.
The next song begins, snapping Taryn from her fussing. She runs up a ramp onto a special platform that moves above the crowd. This song is hers and hers alone, and she gives it all she’s got, but she’s just not as good as Val. There’s a reason why the Senator gives all the good songs to Val. Val’s just better. Of course we’re not supposed to complain about song choice, but Taryn does. I just wish she wouldn’t get all worked up about it. Val’s the best, and we all have to accept that.
The concert continues and each of us in the group has to give a short speech on how to improve one’s life. My speech is about recycling and saving the environment; Johnny’s ‘talk’ is about eating right and exercising. Taryn talks about how to enjoy sex and making sure we all take an oath to get our annual diagnostic and to get our L-Chips programmed properly, so we avoid pregnancies and STD’s. She usually brings up volunteers from the audience to demonstrate some new sex position. It’s always a crowd pleaser.
At the end of the concert, Val gives the most important speech: how to eradicate intolerance. “For narrow is the road that leads to destruction!” she cries out with conviction. “But wide is the road that leads to life! There are many roads to travel; many paths to follow. Choose the one that’s right for you and don’t let anyone tell you you’re wrong. But be warned, the intolerant, the extremist, the religious fanatic lurk everywhere, in every city, in every town, even in your own home. They’ll try to convert you, tell you you’re a sinner; tell you you’re going to hell. They’ll tell you that their way is the only way. When people are that narrow minded, they end up hating different cultures, different backgrounds. It leads to intolerance and racism. These are the fruits of the extremist, the religious fanatic, and we must end their harvest!”
The crowd hangs on her every word.
“Religious fanatics are responsible for more wars than any other group,” Val continues. “They’re responsible for the Crusades, the Inquisition, Nine Eleven; they’re responsible for the beheadings of the innocent and suicide bombings. It was religious fanatics that banned gay marriages, condoned slavery; it was they that looked the other way while priests molested young children. It was they that didn’t allow women to work or vote. Yet, they have the audacity to claim their way is the only way. Really? The only way? Doesn’t that sound a little arrogant? Unfortunately some of your parents think this way. They cling to their one-way religion; their one-way God. They want everyone to believe exactly the way they do. They’ll kill and murder and blow up your schools. They’ll brainwash you and control you. Don’t let them do it. Resist them at all cost. If anyone tells you that their way is the only way, you tell them, no way. Let me say that again, if you hear ‘one way’, what do you say?
The audience responds back with, “no way!”
“Again, what do you say when someone says, ‘one way!’”
“No way!” they repeat.
“One way?” Val says.
“No way!” they shout back.
“One way? No way! One way? No way! Say it children.”
“One way? No way! One way? No way!” the chant begins.
And with that, Taryn, Johnny and I move out into the audience. Other Youth Nation counselors who travel with the concert join us for confession time.
Valerie remains on stage and continues her speech, “If you have something to confess, we want to hear it. We have Youth Nation Counselors all over the auditorium for you to talk to. They’re wearing green and white Youth Nation uniforms, so they’re easy to spot. Come forward children, we’re here for you. If you want to be a better person, tell us. If you want to recycle more, tell us. If you know where cigarettes or unhealthy foods are secretly sold, let us know. If you know where people preach hate of ‘one way’ religions, let us know. Only you can make the world a better place. If your parents worship at a secret church, or if you know someone who does, it’s your duty to tell us. Your parents could be planning a terrorist attack as we speak, or planning to hurt gays or minorities. If you don’t tell us, people will die. People who believe in a ‘one way’ God are dangerous and need to be stopped! Tell us where they’re hiding! We are depending on you! Come forward children, come forward!”
I make my way to a section near one of the exits and begin to listen to the young kids confess. Some of them are sobbing as they tell me their story, most talk of trivial things; like turning off a light switch, or wanting to plant more trees. I know I shouldn’t make light of someone who wants to help the planet, but Youth Nation is on a mission, we’re on a mission to find religious fanatics.
A cute little blond girl, with pigtails, walks up to me. I would say she’s about eight or ni
ne. She’s hesitant at first, but I know she wants to say something. I’ve done this enough to know when something’s up.
I send a mind-text through my L-Chip, alerting the crew that’s monitoring the confessions that they should pay attention to this one. A camera drone comes flying over and hovers above my shoulder.
“Is everything okay?” I ask her.
“Um, I don’t know,” she says quietly, barely lifting her head up. “I don’t know if I should say anything.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “What’s your name, dear?”
“Janice,” she says.
“Janice, that’s a pretty name.”
She smiles.
“So Janice,” I continue. “What is it you want to tell me?”
She looks down, avoiding eye contact. “My parents go to church,” she says softly.
“Is that so. What kind of church is it?”
“Um, I don’t know.”
“Is it a sanctioned church with a government seal on the door?”
“No.”
“Do you meet at a home?”
“Yes,” she says shamefully.
“Hmm, that sounds like a secret church, doesn’t it, Janice?”
“My parents told me not to tell anyone about it. They told me, if I did they’d be thrown in jail and killed.”
The crew monitoring the conversation sends me a flood of mind-texts, telling me what to say. They want to know the location of the church, when they meet, all that kind of stuff. But I’m calm; I’ve done this before.
“Well Janice,” I say. “Telling us where they meet will actually help them in the long run. We can show them where they’ve gone wrong, and they’ll have a chance to change their ways. Doesn’t that sound like a good idea? Don’t you want them to change?”
“I do,” she says, looking up at me with trusting eyes. “They meet on Tuesdays,” she murmurs.
“That’s good. Where on Tuesdays?”
“Different places. Sometimes it’s at our house; sometimes it’s not. It changes all the time.”
“What about this week? Do you know where they meet this week?”
She shakes her head as a tear rolls down her cheek.
“That’s okay. You’ve done a very brave thing today, I’m proud of you and so is Valerie. Thank you Janice.”
I know the crew backstage has monitored her L-Chip and know who her parents are and where they live. I’m sure they have all the information they need to bust them. Janice goes off with her friends; she looks back at me one last time, I nod to reassure her that everything is going to be okay. I just wish I could be there when they arrest her parents.
CHAPTER 4
The concert has ended and all the kids have gone. We pour everything we have into the show and just like that it’s over. I guess we succeeded in what we came here to do, but man, I would love to go out on an RF hunt; I would love to track down a religious fanatic myself. That would be… that would be a dream come true. But it’ll never happen. Senator Willenger will never allow it. God knows I’ve asked him a million times.
We make our way down under the stage while Youth Nation Crewmembers are busy dismantling the temporary arena. They’ll take the electronics and the hydraulic equipment with them to the next location, but as for the structure itself, they’ll burn it. They’ll let the flames burn high to let everyone know that Youth Nation was here.
When we get to the green room, members of Youth Patrol are waiting for us. They’re here to escort the music group to the shuttles. They look impressive in their black and green military uniforms. Now, the Youth Patrol is what all Youth Nationers aspire to become. Well, maybe not for everyone, but it is for me.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” Commander Jeremin Jolt shouts. “We gotta get moving. Religious fanatics could be anywhere. There’s nothing more they’d like to do than to take out a Youth Music Singer. Let’s move people!”
We follow Commander Jolt under the bleachers while the rest of the Youth Patrollers flank us on either side. The Commander looks back at us to make sure we’re keeping up with him. Jeremin is the kind of guy that expects everyone to follow his orders. He’s a bad ass and he knows it. He’s good-looking, lean and tan with thick blond hair. Of course you can’t see any of his hair, or his tan right now, his helmet is on and his visor is pulled down. But I know it’s him; it’s pretty obvious. I wouldn’t say Jeremin and I are friends, but I know him a little. We hung out a bit when we had had classes back at Santa Verde, but now he acts like he doesn’t know me, like he’s better than me. Maybe he is, I don’t know. All I do know is that he’s my age and has already made squadron commander. Can you believe that? Squadron commander. They usually get ex-military to run the teams. Senator Willenger loves him. He thinks Jeremin is the best Youth Patroller Youth Nation has ever produced. And you know what, he’s probably right. When you think of Youth Patrol, you think of Commander Jeremin Jolt.
We exit the arena and out onto the open field. We run toward the shuttles as fast as we can. This is where it could get dangerous. Some crazy One-Wayer religious nut could have a field day; we’re completely exposed. There are laser shields protecting the camp, but all they can do is disrupt the trajectory of the bullets, it doesn’t prevent them from coming through.
“Hey Commander,” I call out to Jeremin. “I have to talk to you.”
“What is it? Is there something wrong?”
“No, I just want to talk to you about something.”
“Maybe later, knock off the chatter and keep moving!”
“It’ll only take a second, Jeremin. I just want to know if you happened to get the info on that girl I talked to tonight? Her name was Janice. Her parents go to a secret church; they meet on Tuesdays, did you hear anything about that?”
“I said knock off the chatter!”
“Yeah, I know you did, but I was wondering if I could tag along with you when you go and arrest her parents?”
Jeremin pulls me aside while the others keep on running. “Goddamn it, Evan!” he shouts. “Seriously, do you bug every Youth Patroller on concert duty, or is it just me you bug.”
“Well,” I respond with a nervous laugh. “I don’t know the other YP’s like I know you.”
“You don’t know me, Evan. You don’t know me at all.”
“We went to school together.”
“Oh God,” he says dismissively. “That doesn’t mean shit.”
“Look Jeremin,” I continue to persist. “I just want to experience what it’s like to go on patrol.”
“No you don’t, you have no idea what you’re asking for. And besides, we won’t even be here on Tuesday! Some other Youth Patrol squad will have to finish the job.”
“Really? Shit, I was hoping I could…
“Stop it!” Jeremin cuts me off. “Stop talking. What is wrong with you? You have an easy stress free life. You get to bang Ashley and Taryn, and I bet Willenger allows you to bang Val on occasion. Why the fuck do you want to give that up?”
“Because that’s not where the real action is. You get to actually catch religious fanatics. I just sing about it, but you, you’re out there doing the real work. C’mon Jeremin, let me come with you on some mission, I don’t care which one. Talk to the Senator, put in a good word for me.”
Jeremin smirks and almost laughs. “The Senator wants you up on that stage, singing your heart out. He’s not going to risk the life of one of the most famous Youth Nationers just so you can live out your fantasy. ‘You’re The Boy Who Changed Everything,’ remember that? Remember that slogan? That’s who you are. Like it or not choirboy, you’re the poster child of Youth Nation. So get your head out of the clouds, and get your ass on the shuttle.” He then shoves me forward to get me moving, I turn to say something to him, but he shoves me again. Our conversation is over.
I know he’s right. There’s no chance I can ever go on patrol. It’s too dangerous. I can’t die on some random mission, I’m too important to the cause. When I was a kid, Y
outh Nation literally saved my life, and ever since then, they’ve been parading me around, telling everyone that I exemplify the virtues of Youth Nation. I just have to accept the fact I’m in the music group, and that’s how it’s going to be. I’ve got to stop thinking about what I want, and start thinking about what’s best for Youth Nation. I’ve got to stop being so selfish.
When I get to the electric powered shuttle buses, it takes a moment for me to find the one I’m supposed to ride in. There’s too much confusion going on. All the Youth Patrol military vehicles that protect the camp are already on the move. They’re circling the shuttles, getting ready to leave. They kick up a lot of dust in the process, making it difficult to see anything. The Drone Monster that’s hovering above, scanning the night sky for anything suspicious, swoops down to check me out with its mechanical roving eye. But once it sees me, it flies off to check something else out. The Youth Patrol soldiers that are standing guard, all seem to be congregating around the shuttle that the Youth Music Singers travel in.
“Hey guys, what’s up?” I ask.
One of the Patrollers looks up at me and starts to laugh. “Hey, look who decided to show up, everyone!”
“Were you guys waiting for me?”
“No,” the soldier responds sarcastically. “We just love hanging out in the middle of the field, hoping we get shot at.”
Shit, they were waiting for me. I jump up on the shuttle and as soon as I step inside the bus, the door shuts and we start to move. Our next destination awaits.
The shuttle that houses the Youth Music Singers is the biggest one in the fleet; it’s almost two lanes wide. It’s extremely luxurious with all the latest gadgets. There’s even a small dance floor if you can imagine that. Normally, if you’re not one of the main singers like me, you can’t come aboard, you need an invitation to ride along; it’s very exclusive. But tonight, I think they let everyone in. The shuttle is packed with all the musicians and the dancers and a few crewmembers too. The party is already in full swing; people are already having sex or getting their L-Chip tweaked by the medics walking around. Others are smoking pot. (That’s the one thing we’re allowed to do from the past). I look around for Val, but can’t find her. I mind-text her, but no response.
Youth Patrol Page 2
