by P. G. Burns
The scene fades, the seats retract and the spotlight returns to Dallas Proctor.
“That may be the first time many of you have seen an image of the Antihost. Of course, it is by law that his image is banned in most places outside of this learning establishment. But here you will become familiar with not only his image but also those of his co-conspirators whom history has aptly called the ‘Diabolicals’. You will endure graphic images of the horrendous atrocities that they were responsible for. Anyone who feels overwrought by what you have just witnessed may be better off joining the catering class down the corridor.”
Dallas peruses the faces of the young people and a smirk grows across his face as he can see how disturbed and unnerved the new scholars are. Some shift uncomfortably in their chairs, not even conversing. The young girl who vomited gets up and leaves. Dallas revels in their discomfort and fails to suppress a smile. That is, until he catches the eye of Adam Costello who appears unperturbed; in fact he looks impressed at his first 3DVI experience. In truth Adam has never encountered such a high-tech video experience and is truly impressed but unlike most people he is already familiar with the image of Shane Mills from old-style TV footage he has watched with Raphael.
Dallas knows immediately that this boy from the Caucasian sector has little respect for Aryan ways. His joy at the other students’ discomfort is spoiled and his lip visibly curls with disdain for this boy who had passed the entrance exam despite not having access to the Bibliotheque or any ordained tutor. How he managed to pass is a mystery. Dallas was not happy about teaching a “Schwartskull”, but he is confident that he will dissuade the lowlife from continuing with his chosen subject very soon.
Adam feels the disdain coming from the lecturer. As a Caucasian he is very aware that his presence here is not welcome. Since he was a child Adam has obsessed about Old World history, especially the exploits of the Diabolicals, yet most books and footage have been banned. Of all the injustices his type have to endure this restriction of education on any subject was the one Adam resented most.
He had spent a childhood scraping around trying to find any books or films that related to the times before the New World Order and the rise of the Fourth Reich. Of course, the Grand Bibliotheque in the Aryan sector is bursting with books and research on this subject if you can get access. But being a lowly Caucasian, Adam was only granted a red chip and couldn’t enter these places. It was a classic catch-22 situation – he could only learn about Old World history by getting onto the course at the RLT, which he could only do if he passed the entrance exam, which you needed to study for using books from the Bibliotheque. Adam had just about been resigned to a hopeless life of curiosity and ignorance when he met Raphael.
Thanks to Raphael’s teachings he had access to all the knowledge he’d dreamed of. He spent hours every day at Raphael’s listening to tales of world history, mainly about the early to mid-twenty-first century, the Revolution and its main protagonists, the Diabolicals, Leo Verdi and, of course, Shane Mills. For Adam it was like Messiah day every day, not that many Caucasians really celebrated the festival marking the return of the Messiah.
Adam’s only concern was the authenticity of the knowledge that Raphael bestowed upon him. Many of the citizens of Ravensdale (Adam’s sector) thought Raphael was a weirdo who made up stories to gain the company and trust of young men. Adam never believed this but still, on the day of the exam, he wondered if he was about to realise they were right and that all he’d learned from Raphael had been fairy tales. In fact Raphael had confused him over the last few months prior to the exam.
“To pass the exam you must learn untruths as well as truths,” he had told him.
Adam lost track of what was supposed to be true and what was not, especially regarding Shane Mills. However, on the tenth day of the Autumn quarter Adam was awoken by the cheers of his sisters and his mother.
“You passed! Ninety-seven per cent! My son is a genius!” His mother yelled at him as she hugged him so hard he could hardly breathe. “My son is going to the RLT.”
Adam’s father, Aidan, showed no such elation. He feared for his only son’s safety. The Aryans would not be happy sharing their school with a lower-class citizen.
Back in the auditorium the students recover and settle. Dallas decides to uncover what knowledge these students have acquired prior to attending his class. He always likes to separate the wheat from the chaff early on and he also hopes the Caucasian will be exposed.
“Who can tell me what is believed to be the catalyst for the Verdi Revolution?” Dallas asks the class.
The majority of the students look straight ahead, some nervous on their first day, most completely ignorant to the answer. Adam is tempted to show his extensive knowledge on the subject but decides this will make him even more unpopular. Ember Jones, on the other hand, is nearly falling out of her seat with her keenness to answer.
“Ah, Miss Jones, isn’t it?” says Dallas.
Ember nods and spurts out her answer so rapidly that Dallas and the students worry if she will come up for breath.
“Shane Mills was incarcerated in prison for manslaughter. Before he went to prison he was described as a drunken thug with no affiliation to any political group or interest in world events. By the time he escaped four years later he was a dedicated extremist and anti-government activist. He caused havoc and promoted anarchy wherever he could. However…”
Dallas holds up his hand to stop her but Ember ploughs on. With her shoulders back and her chin slightly raised there is no question in her mind that she could be mistaken.
“However, the catalyst, as you mentioned, is thought to have been when Shane Mills murdered six hundred prison inmates and guards in order to escape from prison with the help of the Islamic extremist, Robert Price.”
“Thank you, Miss Jones.”
After a couple more questions, all eagerly answered by Ember, Dallas spends the rest of the class running through the areas that he will cover in the first term and finishes up with an assignment for the students.
“I want you all to present a thesis to me that will cover the period between the formation of the Diabolicals and the return of the Messiah. You will be working on this for the remainder of this first term and it will count towards your final results so make sure you get it right.” Groans fill the room until Dallas offers up what seems like a small concession. “You will do the research in pairs but I need separate papers. Now pick your partners before leaving.”
Adam immediately feels his face glow; he is sure he will be left out. A quick look at Dallas Proctor confirms this, his smug smile and raised eyebrow suggest this will be the first of many slights. No one will pick a Schwartskull.
“Well, shall we be partners?”
Adam turns to see Ember’s open face smiling at him.
“Err, yeah, if you’re sure? That’d be great.”
Dallas looks furious. What is she doing? He thinks to himself. Surely her father, the Procurator of this order, has taught his daughter about mixing with inferior classes? She can’t mean it. She must be just humouring him…
Ember suddenly grabs Adam’s hand and holds it aloft announcing,
“Yeah, team freak show!” Adam shrinks back as everybody looks at them.
“Listen, Ember, maybe you should reconsider? I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”
“Fuck ’em,” replies Ember, with a look of pride that proves she probably isn’t used to swearing so casually.
Adam laughs at hearing this sweet, innocent, young girl curse and as they make their way out of the auditorium the sound of the heckling follows them.
“You are nothing like I imagined,” he tells her.
Ember smiles; she is nothing like anyone imagines. She has been brought up and educated mostly by her father after the tragic death of her mother. Nobody knows this but her father secretly holds quite liberal views despite being a high-ranking official of the Aryan Supreme Council and he has taught her to question (again secret
ly) everything, including the belief that Aryans are the chosen and superior race. Ember has always disliked their caste type system even as a young child. She is wise beyond her years when it comes to understanding the purpose of it as social stratification and segregation. When she learned an actual Caucasian would be attending the RLT at the same time as her she was overjoyed and had made sure she would be sitting next to him on their first day.
Divide et impera
« Future cares have future cures, And we must mind today. »
Sophocles, Antigone
The two youngsters soon form a friendship that sees Ember disliked by the other students almost as much as Adam is. She doesn’t seem bothered by it; Ember has always exuded a confidence instilled in her by her father. She is quite happy to spend her time exclusively with Adam as, quite frankly, she finds the others boring. Not only does he offer insight into a world she has never known, feeding her thirst for knowledge, but also only he can match her intelligence. The others respect her mainly for her status whereas Adam looks at her with eyes of intrigue. He makes her feel like something unknown rather than the foregone conclusion that she sees reflected in everyone else’s eyes. Sometimes it feels like Adam’s friendship is the only thing keeping her head above water. Not that she could ever let anyone know that. After all, what could the Procurator’s daughter ever have to complain about?
Adam and Ember slip into a routine of going to the Bibliotheque after their lessons each day, both keen to maximise their research and make sure they do not give Dallas or the other students any ammunition to use against them. Without discussing it, each of them has decided they will submit the best dissertation at the end of term. Ember loves to see Adam so excited every time he enters this hallowed library. He looks like a kid in a Cybercandy market as he takes in the spectacular interior: six storeys of wooden balconies, solid carved oak and filled to the brim with books.
The smell of wood-polish and leather is one Ember has long associated with knowledge. Her father would sneak her in to the library when she was little, always keen to emphasise the importance of education and Ember had memorised the twists and turns well before she had reached her teens. When she had first brought Adam in he joked that she looked like she owned the entire building and all its contents. She had laughed it off but the comment had touched a nerve. Was that really how she came across? No wonder everyone else kept their distance. She watched Adam as he explored the library, seeing it through his eyes and trying to appreciate it, not just take it for granted. For possibly the first time in her life she has found her intellectual equal, although sometimes even she must admit his knowledge of the Old World is actually superior to hers, an accomplishment he tells her is credit to his tutor, a man called Raphael.
Adam is not sure what this friendship is. He definitely relishes the joys of exchanging knowledge and even looks forward to their often heated debates but he also cannot ignore just how beautiful she is. He’s had female friends before but none as fascinating as Ember and none of them could ever make him think as much as her; she really gets into his head sometimes.
“I love this city,” Ember says to Adam as they step out of the building into a sunny afternoon. She looks out at the gleaming lively Megatropolis. “I mean, sixty-seven million people all living in this one conurbation. Do you know it’s the largest city ever constructed? It’s even bigger than the cities people lived in before the Tribulation. In fact this whole place used to cross two whole territories of old Australia! This area around here was called Adelaide and…”
Ember stops talking as she notices Adam subconsciously shaking his head in disagreement. “What? You think I am wrong?”
Adam mentally braces himself for the beginning of one of their heated debates.
“No, I was just thinking that it’s a pity more of them sixty-seven million can’t live around here.” He gestures towards the beautiful sculptures, fountains and monuments that adorn the courtyard they have entered. “I mean, look, free water!”
“Oh, well, yes. I agree it’s a shame but still it’s an amazing place, don’t you think?”
Adam is careful, he knows Ember may be agreeing as one of her ploys to make him let his guard down and tell her what he really feels. If it was the plan, it works.
“I don’t see how a city designed to keep people segregated into categories to allow certain races to have privileges over others can ever be described as amazing. Even the buildings around here have a hierarchical purpose. I mean, the higher up you live the more important you are. Do you really think that is okay?”
Ember shakes her head and Adam begins to rant, paraphrasing speeches he has heard Raphael make.
“Aryans rule. They have the privilege. Okay, that’s fine, the ‘Host’ has decreed that they are the special ones but does that mean all others have to suffer? Thirty million Caucasians live in the industrial sector, which has none of the beauty and splendour or luxuries you have up here. Thirty million crammed into an area half the size of this exclusive fucking utopian home of what… seven million poxy snowheads?
“My dad works six days a week so we can eat and pay rent on our three-bedroom apartment. He doesn’t complain because he was brought up to believe he was blessed. I mean the non-whites in the favelas and the slums are much worse off than us. They’re not allowed to earn money, they are virtually slaves living in those shitty shanty towns but they don’t complain because even they think they are better off than those who end up in Subterrainia, where God alone knows what goes on! It’s all a very clever way to control the people and made possible because of this city. So no, I don’t think it’s amazing.”
Ember waits before replying just to make sure he is finished. Adam looks to the floor half regretting his rant. He notices how her brow furrows and he recoils, expecting a sarcastic remark and some sort of put-down; he is not disappointed.
“Woo, reel ya neck in bad boy! I was just talking about the structure not the whole socio-geo-political situation. Chill out, matey, you know I’m not a fan of segregation. I’m just saying, and even you’ve gotta admit, the city is pretty impressive.”
Ember’s arms spread and she smiles playfully, trying to defuse the tension. Adam looks around from the steps they stand on and down into the sprawling city.
“Well, yes, the architecture is…” he stumbles over his last word, “…amazing.”
He looks over to her sheepishly and bursts out laughing. Ember can’t help but join in, playfully nudging him in the shoulder.
Adam jumps onto a podium and cranes his neck to look over the walls so he can get a better view of the city. In spite of himself he always does feel a sense of awe looking down at the Aryan part of the city.
Designed as a fusion of Ancient Rome and twenty-second-century architecture, it is a marvel of monuments, statues and magnificent buildings. An elevated simulacrum of Solfrid the First and the huge Sky Dome that hovers above it dominate the skyline. The neon-blue travel tubes that connect the corners of the Aryan section zigzag between the buildings, creating a network of tentacles running through the city. Behind it Adam can just see the tops of the buildings that populate his area, Midtown. This area is not so grandioso! Large grey apartment blocks and huge factories dominate Midtown, the home of said thirty million Caucasians and the industrial hub of Jinn City. Adam and his family live in Ravensdale, one of ten sectors down there.
Although he cannot see from here Adam knows that beyond his sector lie the ghettos and shanty towns that run right up to the ocean. These house the thirty-odd million non-whites, split into four racial groups: Black, Hispanic, Oriental and Asian. These people then fall under further caste definitions that, according to Raphael, are encouraged so as to keep the masses divided and dissuade any form of civil disobedience. Adam does know that they are heavily policed by a private security force known as the Mackies who rule with an iron fist and take full advantage of the lack of rights these unfortunates have.
Finally there is Subterrainia: a labyrinth
of underground tunnels that are home to the rejected, undesirables and untouchables. No police force is needed down there as they are left to fend for themselves. The truth is, no one pays enough to risk policing this lawless domain.
“So how does a boy from Midtown feel about taking a high-bred Aryan to see his manor?” Ember is looking at Adam expectantly.
“Boy? I am eighteen. In my part of town you’re a man at sixteen. We don’t have our mummies looking after us until we reach thirty, like you Aryans.” Adam says this with a cheeky glint in his eye.
“Okay, so how does a man from Midtown feel about taking me to his home?”
Adam is cautious. “Why would such a privileged girl want to slum it in Midtown?”
“Let us call it research. I need to get a feel for how the heart of this city beats.”
“I don’t think so. You won’t like it down there, no marble pavements or boutique stores, not even a Y station.”
“You still don’t trust me, do you?” Ember’s tone is light-hearted but Adam can’t resist a dig.
“No. I don’t trust Aryans. They tend to treat me and mine like something that they scraped off their shoe. I’m pretty sure that I’ve only been allowed to attend the RLT because your lot think I will fail and give them all something to laugh about.”
Now it is Ember’s turn to be defensive. She folds her arms tight and stands as if to attention, visibly hurt that Adam’s accusations include her. On the surface she wants to keep the conversation light but no matter how much they try to avoid it they always come back to this. She adopts a firm tone.
“You know I don’t think like that and nor does my father. He fought for you to be included when the other Council members wanted you disqualified.”
“I passed the exam! Why would he have to fight for me? I don’t need help from any fucking snowheads.”
