To the People of Now [prose]
Timong Lightbringer
The collection of stories
2012. Google Edition
And on the screen...
A blow – and the opponent has bent. Running jump – and a kick in a stomach. The opponent falls down. A rattle from a throat.
Blow. Blow. Blow.
He was finishing him off – beating the lying one. The rival – the enemy ! – has no more forces to resist – even to rise up – and to strike back.
He would surely strike back – if he had risen, of course. And that’s why he should not be given that chance. He must be – finished off. He has been pursuing this bastard for so long … through half of a country … and has finally caught up. The destroyed family … his family – this wound was still bleeding. But it will be cured when he will see his mortal enemy, begging of mercy on his knees – of mercy which he won’t get. Ever.
This final triumph was so close already. Now that berk is already hardly creeps away from him, leaving a viscous trail of blood. A little bit of time and there will be a triumph – his triumph … his long-awaited triumph ! This, surely, will not bring his family back … but … nevertheless … after all … this swine will get what he has deserved ! His family has already faced the consequences – and only he still remained…
Another blow – and the enemy has stopped moving on the ground. Moved no more. Absolutely.
Finally. Meet your death, bitch !
Final strike … He took a pistol from his hip-pocket. A gunpoint, set on a bent and lying still man, a spiteful smile in eyes of the killer …
Click.
Button click. A TV remote, thrown aside. No more ! No more ! No more !
Foolish action films ! Murders, blood and revenge … animalistic rage and terrific hatred … On almost all of channels. When they will finally stop broadcasting these slops ? Only a handful of channels, speaking about culture, creativity, worthy human undertakings and achievements still live on … but are people accustomed to watching this ? They are being fed with crap and assured that it’s a food of gods. And some even believe that …
It’s necessary to change this system ! Mass-media need to seriously think on what they give to the people … and of what they deprive … people need to think of what they would really like to see…
He will not stand aside. Tomorrow he will bring up this question at deputy meeting. Tomorrow he and his like-minded will tell their word – one against violence, against cruelty – even those exclusively cinematized.
But will they be heard ? Will they be listened to by million of viewers – by each one of them ? He hoped greatly that they will be. For so much depends on that, on choices of everyone, and this choice as well.
Sat down to watch TV the first time in a month … And – take it. Eat it, bless you. Fie ! I’ ll better play and have fun with my child in this day off. Yes, it’s a right choice and a valuable contribution, and not some consumption of slops.
- Alex, let’s go and play “horses and riders” !
- Whow, father ! New game, yes ? Fantastic ! Tell me, tell me about it quickly !
- Yes, we’ll now play with you in “horses and riders”, and then have a jog to the stadium and back. All right ?
- Certainly, pa ! That will be great !
- Fine. So, well, listen here. Game rules are really simple …
The Majority
Step. And again. And again. In such minutes every moment becomes the eternity.
Ten steps to scaffold top. Nine. Eight. Seven.
Yes, he is both the criminal and the traitor. Yes, he would repeat the same again.
Where does the moment ends and the eternity begins ? Six. Five. Four.
Where does life of one ends, so that others can live on ? Three.
No one can escape its destiny and hide from it, nowhere. Two.
And in the moment of own death it’s only possible to accept it with gratitude. One.
To die and to live in the eternity. The top.
He is a traitor for one, and a hero for another. And there are no intermediate stages. How much does a human’s life cost and who will dare to measure it ? Who will judge of the unknown destiny of which he has not a slightest idea ? Who will extol you as the hero and overthrow in a chasm of damnations later ? Who will make this all only because he can do no other ?
The Majority.
Yes, he is the murderer – and the savior simultaneously. Angel and a demon in one person.
The life of one for lifes of many. And no other choice is possible here.
And that is why he is the criminal.
The life of the president of home country, who has almost plunged the world into a nuclear apocalypse – it’s not that much for the world to live on.
And that is why he is the hero.
The former faithful companion and the right hand, who once realized what the left hand is going to make. The one chosen the most radical way to stop the ongoing madness – for no other measures were capable to help.
And that is why he is the traitor.
The killers of killers – angels of punishment ? Executioners of executioners? Criminals? No one will give him the right answer.
The military court – and the simple majority of votes deciding his destiny. Forty nine against fifty one.
And that is why he dies today. The Majority decided so.
Life and death … death and life. And there are no intermediate stages.
But not for the Majority.
The Top.
Here they are – below and before him. All the Consulat. One hundred of human judges. Criminals and heroes. Killers of killers. Surprisingly small and ridiculous from this Top.
Does the life end to give a way to the Eternity or death is simply her continuation ? The moment has finally come to learn this.
A rope around a neck – not the most honorable of deaths. But heroes have no right to choose – as well as killers.
The sun blinding the eye … above, above … so small from this top …
A blow – and soil leaves from under feet. Let it be so. So the Majority decided. A flash of light before dimming eyes. Only an instant.
Just a single instant.
And – the Eternity.
You are
You say, that God does not exist. And I tell you, that He exists no more exclusively for you.
You grieve, that He has forsaken your world long ago. And I reply, that it was you, who barricaded from Him in the smallest world of your own, which has nothing in common with the greater one.
You complain that life is cruel and unfair. And I recommend you to look at yourselves in a mirror in the upcoming morning.
You grieve of the dead ones as those lost to this world forever. And I am starting to assert that they were lost exclusively for the vanity of yours.
You curse your work, thinking of it as a routine which takes away the time of your life aimlessly. And I ask you, what will your life look like without your work on yourselves?
You despise your enemies. And I know, how they all become the stones of non-hindrance on the road of life, once you have finally grown the wings for flight.
You all thirst for love, but, finding none, are ready to jump from the rocks of broken hopes into abysses of hatred. And I desire to know the true value of such feelings.
You state that life makes no sense and holds no purpose. And I will whisper to you, that you did not even try to search.
You declare the impossibility of possible, and deny incredibility of the obvious. And I see, how previously impossible becomes obvious, and incredible becomes possible.
&nbs
p; You guess that life is inconceivable without movement. And I ask you not to confuse impulses of soul to petty vanity.
You worry that you do not understand others. And I am interested in questioning you – “Do you even know yourselves?”
You pursue life’s success in hopes to get it in time, and are ready to walk over others heads. And I tell you that you are always late, for you have chosen wrong road.
You feel proud that belief is not necessary to the learnt. And I ask you whether you could learn, not believing in the possibility of the learnt ?
You speak of generosity and share pieces of stale bread, continuing to consume red caviar over both your cheeks. You speak of goodwill, and draw a knife behind each other’s backs. You speak of wisdom and share thousand and one way to deceive those close to you. And I dare to believe that you will open your eyes one day and stop confusing darkness to the light.
You question, how I can state what I do not know. And I advise you to pour out ashes from bags of your knowledge.
You tell me that I repeat myself and cross spots, passed previously, again. And I will simply ask you to look up.
You will tell that it is banal. And I will continue hoping.
You will tell that you have heard and passed all this before. And with a grief in my eyes I will watch you passing by once again …
Wrath of war
A whistle of a flying shell. Air, dissected by an iron pig. Explosion. Explosion – just behind the next hill.
Missed. Missed again.
Alive. I am alive ! Still alive.
Have missed the mark, slightly – but have missed. Lucky enough ?
And how many times again must he be lucky enough during all these days, to remain alive ? How many ?
However, it could be worse – much worse. Worse than when his lung was shot and he has been gasping since then, sucking air into lungs with some sobs, and releasing it outside – still hot, warmed by his organism air … air of war and destructions. Even worse than when explosion of a grenade has deprived him of his three hand’s fingers … instead of them – bloody-stained lumps.
A nevertheless he is still alive, living in this mad war. Alive among hundreds and hundreds of other mad ones.
Will he last for long ?
A machine gun fired nearby. Into entrenchments ! – where the killing iron will not reach him. To the ground – the ground of native land … the country, which was hardly resisting enemy’s onslaught. The enemy … How, when these people, just the same as he is, when have they become his enemies ? Why enemies ? What a monstrous absurd and error must have occurred that they suddenly became enemies ? Another madness ?
Anyway, they are enemies now. Worse than that – the hungry beasts, feasting on corpses of killed and wounded, rejoicing with each death of hated enemy … next cut thread of human’s life … human … No, they are not like humans now … not anymore. Each of them – is not a human anymore. They were like them, in their former lives – but not anymore. No.
Since this madness of war has begun.
And once again a whistle of a machine gun and a desperate shriek somewhere far in these entrenchments. His comrade has died – a brother by motherland, by faith, by customs. Yet another stopped life way. Yet again a grief for his parents – if, of course, they are still alive … One more life, put on the altar … what for ? For the sake of what all this war was started ? Territories ? Resources ? Money ? World influence ? But how insignificant all these temporal goals in comparison with one – yes, with a single stopped human life ! And there are hundreds and hundreds of them by each day.
Enemies couldn’t feel regret. They had no desire to understand. They had to kill – kill their enemies. Same people as they are.
And this was the most awful, the most horrific that a blinded by the power and riches human mind could invent. A mistake, terrible mistake … unforgivable mistake. An error, which price is – the split blood – the blood of wounded and dying people, blood of those, who once were them. An error, which price is – ruined cities and destroyed families, corrupted human fates. An error, which price is – unleashed war of two nations.
The war … and for how long will this war ever last ? Until last soldier is killed ? Until all major cities of the enemy are wiped out from the face of Earth ? Until the flame of grief inflames all far horizons of this country – a country, whose destiny is to be subdued. To become a raw appendage of more powerful state and – more aggressive – those which begun the war, made a monstrous mistake for which both will have to pay.
They will not withstand – he knew it. Technics, weapons, resources – enemy has all it in plenty. Much more that they can dream of. They had only one thing left which has played such a malicious joke with them – natural resources, riches of Earth interior – the motherland, where he has to die. He has to die, seeing coming victorious forces of the enemy, seeing their proud and blind delight of a victory, seeing their hatred to those survived – civilian population … to survived civilians – if, of course, there will be many left. He hoped there will be many. It must be many – for sometimes after decades and decades his country could reborn.
And still he has to fight – along with other your men, quickly mobilized and driven on the front lines soon after the beginning of war.
Hastily trained. Slightly armed. Not murderers – living people.
The burst of machine gun has abated and he has slightly raised his head. As he has suspected – enemy’s infantry was advancing in full order. Damn, it would be so great to have some heavy technics here and now – some tank. Or tanks. But all large forces have already been mobilized in other directions. And they have been abandoned here, against superior forces of the enemy, with almost no means of protection. They have been left to die here on the battlefield. Well, he though – to die means to die. There are no other options possible, apparently. A pity, his death will be in vain.
He has suddenly caught himself on a thought of how he can die to grasp as many as possible enemies together with him, for enemies aren’t talked with, they have to be – killed. But whether they would began to kill him if they have happened to meet in different circumstances ? Possibly, they would even become friends. Yes, friends with that very young soldier that has so ineptly got out forward …
A recharge of submachine gun … a sound of taken and inserted charger. A shot. Enemy’s soldier silently falls down with a punched head… One more enemy has fallen.
Ruthlessly killed.
Madness … This is total madness. Humans, transformed into animals and brought for murders.
Non-humans ? Are there are humans in the war at all, humans – soldiers ? Soldiers, who have still remained humans ?
He met and saw those returned from wars time and again – almost nobody from them could get accustomed to peaceful life. Only singles did. For this is war. For this is madness.
Enemies were approaching – without concealing, methodically and openly. They saw and felt their victory – feasted on the victory, feasted each moment with relish. Then they will feast over the conquered territory, too… They didn’t know yet what a monstrous error they have already committed. Mistake, for which they should pay off once…
The columns of the enemy are absolutely nearby – there is no more reason to cover in the entrenchments. The order of their commander, shouted in the air – “Forward !”. And here he is – their commander, leaving an entrenchment – and moving towards the enemy. And falling. Falling without a single shout. But the impulse is picked up – and soldiers rise. Rise on their last fight. The shortest fight possible.
Sounds of discharged weapons. People, dying from both sides. Dying for nothing.
He has risen the time he has heard the order. Has run forward – first, second, third – enemies fell before him.
But a shot finally comes – and pain burns his shoulder. He shots once more – and yet another soldier of the enemy falls down. One more shot – and blow in a breast throws him aside.
&nbs
p; Ground. Native ground. You are so close to me now. So close …
A bent face of the enemy. A gunpoint, looking at his forehead. A shot. Last one in his life.
The war …
The madness of war …
The state of Earth
Based on my authority as the new head of the Supreme Council of the Incorporated Countries I proclaim our countries one state. All ideological, political, economic, psychological and other unnamed types of separation are eliminated, the newly formed state receives the status of free confederation, universal political cards are subject to revision - any territorial differentiation of a surface of a planet by the political sign is cleaned from them, all borders are eliminated, free and unobstructed possibility of moving on all territory of new formation is guaranteed to the population of the former states, and newly formed community is named ...
To the People of Now [prose] Page 1
