Solaris Mortem: The New Patriots

by Rusty Henrichsen

  “There are some who would betray us. And Rick is not the same kind of man that Charles was. I think it should be abundantly clear by now if it wasn’t already—Rick is a very dangerous man.

  “Lastly, I just want to emphasize again: it is crucial that we use caution in all of our affairs. Rick will not hesitate to kill us.

  “I’ve been talking with one of our members, and he’s got something valuable to share with us. I want you to listen but reserve judgment. What you are about to hear will anger you; that’s my disclaimer. But what’s important here, is the information. The Intel. I ask you now to sit and listen without judgment. Austin?”

  Austin was raw anxiety, personified. He tried to smile and gave a little nod, to try and play it cool, but everything about him betrayed the act. Austin looked terrified. He cleared his throat and stammered out the words, “Hi…everyone. I don’t really know where to begin, so I guess I’ll start at the beginning.

  “When we first started meeting here, after that first meeting, Rick cornered me when I was walking home. He told me that I was going to help him…or else. I was scared...and I didn’t know what else to do...so I helped him. I am so sorry.”

  “You fucking traitor!” someone yelled. Austin avoided angry eyes and continued.

  “I can’t change what I did, what happened, okay? I wish I could. But I can’t. The best I can do now is to come clean. And do whatever I can now to help. Or at the very least, to do no more harm. Hopefully, you know…I can undo some of it.”

  “We oughta fuckin’ hang him right now and be done with it!” the same man from before shouted.

  Terry stood up. “Now hold on a minute. If that’s the way you want to act, then maybe you’re on the wrong side! That sounds exactly like the sort of thing the New Patriots would do. That’s not how we solve problems here. Not as the first course of action. Understood?”

  The man took to his seat and mumbled something under his breath. Terry wasn’t sure what he said and he didn’t want to know. “Now, everybody calm down. No, this isn’t great. None of it is. But we’re doing the best that we can in a bad situation, okay? Austin can help us now. Don’t you get it? As long as he’s not discovered—by them, he can help us now.”

  A grumble went through the room and Duncan let it die down before he stood up again. “Tonight, Rick played on our sentimentalities. Tomorrow, or very soon, he will show us the other fist. I don’t want to be around to see it. Gather your belongings, specifically, anything that has survival value. Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. And keep preparing.

  “We are not as prepared as I would like to be, but time is a luxury we no longer have. We lost that today.”

  * * *

  After the meeting spirits were low and you could nearly taste the fear hanging in the air. Some stayed behind, engaging in nervous chatter. Some left as soon as it was over, including Alisia.

  “Alisia,” Terry said, “Wait, I’ll walk you home.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks, Terry,” she said.

  Terry peeked out through the glass door to make sure they weren’t being watched. It seemed rather silly to him as he already knew they were under surveillance, but still, it seemed like the thing to do.

  “I’m really glad to see you here, tonight,” Terry said. “I’ve been hoping to get the chance to talk to you again.”

  “Oh?” Alisia said.

  “Yeah. You see, I’ve been working on our plan for getting out of here. And I gotta tell ya’, I just don’t see how that’s going to work without you.”

  “Without me? Or without the flasher?” Alisia said, grinning.

  “Well…both, probably. But, I don’t see how we get out of here in one piece without that chip flasher device you have.”

  “Oh…and here I thought you wanted me to come along,” Alisia said.

  “Oh, I do….” Terry’s face flushed. “Anyways, I’ve heard of some people digging them out, but I don’t think that went so well.”

  Alisia shook her head. “No. No, it didn’t. Did you hear about it?”

  “I heard,” Terry said, “but your version might be more accurate.”

  “Well, what happened was, two guys were helping the other guy dig his chip out and it blew up. Killed all three of them. Ruined one of my wheelchairs, too.”

  Thomas Collins, Terry thought. Shit… He was glad he hadn’t quite been ready to hop on that wagon back when he had met the guy.

  “That’s exactly why we need your help.”

  “I don’t know, Terry. I mean, I can’t just leave. I’m the only doctor they have here. Besides, I have my mom to think about as well.”

  “All the more reason to get out,” Terry said. “Trust me, you don’t want your mom living here, especially now that Rick’s in charge.”

  “You may be right,” Alisia said, “but it’s not that simple. I don’t think my mom would be willing to leave and I can’t leave her behind. I could never….”

  What if Alisia just gave them the flasher? Terry thought. That would work, wouldn’t it? No. No, it wouldn’t. Once Rick put it together, then Alisia and her mom were dead.

  “What if I helped you talk to your mom?”

  Alisia looked at him incredulously.

  “What? I can be very convincing,” Terry said.

  Alisia didn’t doubt it when she saw the boyish grin that lit up his face. Maybe he could help. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to try.”

  * * *

  Terry didn’t get home until about 10:30 pm. Kat was waiting for him. “Where have you been?” Kat asked. She didn’t look too pleased. Terry had seen a lot of that look lately.

  “I was at the meeting, Kat.”

  “Why do you go to those things, Terry? I mean, really—what is it that you think you’re going to do….or solve?”

  “Well…I guess I’m just not ready to throw in the towel just yet. This is a great country and I’m not ready to give up on it.”

  “Okay,” Kat said, “and how exactly is surviving, considered giving up in your mind? If you’re dead, you can’t save anything.”

  She had a point there. If I’m dead, what good am I to my family? He felt that slight nagging feeling that asked, ‘what if I’m wrong?’ Oh, how he hated that feeling. Making him question his stance, his beliefs, his reasons. But he shook it off. What good was a life of slavery? Maybe it wasn’t slavery like whips and chains and being owned, but make no mistake, it wasn’t freedom either. It was a far cry.

  “I just think we can do better—on our own.”

  “On our own? Are you mad?” Kat said.

  “Kat, this isn’t living. Surviving, yes—but living, no. I want to be a free man. I want the kids to be free, to know freedom.”

  “They’re not your kids, Terry,” Kat said, sharply.

  “I know, Kat, I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for them or that they don’t mean the world to me as well.” He hated it when she felt the need to point that out. It's not like he didn't know they weren't his, but he couldn't help feeling a paternal love for his niece and nephew. Lord knows, they were dealt a shitty dad.

  “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Kat said, “I don’t know why I said that. Tell me what you’re thinking of, Terry. I mean, what exactly are you planning?”

  “I’m planning on getting out of here,” he said. Terry paused. He wasn’t sure how to say the next part. “Listen, I know that you and Rick…that you like Rick, but I don’t trust him, Kat.”

  “Yeah, I think I got that, Terry.”

  “I know you know that,” Terry said, “but I keep saying it because I think it’s important. I think Rick is a very dangerous man, Kat.”

  Kat scoffed, “You don’t even know him!”

  “Okay, fair enough, but do you? I mean, really—what do you really know about him?”

  “I know that he treats me well. That he looks at me like I matter. That it feels nice to have someone care about me! What is the big problem with that, Terry?”

  “Jesus, Kat. I d
on’t have a problem with any of that! What I have a problem with, is that the man is a murderer!”

  “Allegedly,” Kat said.

  Allegedly? What in the hell is that? He loved his sister but, God, could she ever be pigheaded sometimes. Still, he couldn’t lose his cool this time. “Please, Kat, just think about it, okay? For me. Just think about it.”

  “Okay. I’ll think about it,” Kat said. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Keep an eye on him,” Terry said. “Be on the lookout for any strange behav—”

  “Terry! I got it! Okay? Give it a rest, already.”

  “Okay. Good night.”

  Terry laid awake in bed for a long time that night.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The next morning at work, Kat was preparing sandwiches for the day ahead. Though the transfer station was up and running, at partial capacity anyhow, there was still much to be done if the citizens of New Seattle expected to be comforted by a reliable electric glow this winter.

  The generators hummed outside, their constant drone, her only companion on this morning. She slipped into thought. What if Terry is right? But…we can’t just go and run off and away from all of this to go live in the woods. In the middle of winter? No. That would never do. She could see where he was coming from but...she would rather live, thank you, very much.

  Rick startled her when he wrapped his arms around her midsection. “Oh my God, Rick. You scared me! I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Rick laughed. “And how is my beautiful queen this morning?” He planted a kiss on her neck, melting away her tension and worries.

  “Much better now, my handsome Chancellor,” Kat said, and she turned to face him. “And how did I get lucky enough to earn a visit from the Chancellor today?”

  Rick pulled her in and kissed her deeply. “It’s two-fold. One, I wanted one of those,” and he brushed her lips with the tips of his finger. “Two, I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Anything,” Kat said, staring into his forever-deep green eyes. She could look at those all day.

  “There’s been some talk,” Rick said, “I’m sure you’ve heard some of it, that not everyone is happy with me being the new Chancellor.” Kat frowned. “And some of these people are even saying that I had something to do with Charles’s suicide.”

  “But you didn’t, of course,” Kat said. Only…she wasn’t sure if she was making a statement or asking the question.

  “No, of course not. It hurts me to know that anyone would even think that of me,” Rick said. Kat felt a small guilt for doubting. “But still. Even though it’s completely ridiculous, I have to deal with it.”

  “Okay,” Kat said. “What are you going to do? What can you do? People talk, but that’s all it is. It’s just…talk.”

  “Words are perhaps the most volatile weapons there are, and I intend to stop it.” His face hardened, then softened again. “That’s why I came to talk with you, Kat.”

  “To me? Why? What can I do?” she asked.

  “You can be my ears.” Kat wasn’t so sure she liked the sound of that. “It has come to my attention that one of my biggest critics—is your brother.”

  Kat pushed away slightly. “Terry? Terry didn’t do anything.”

  Rick wrinkled his eyebrows at her in a disbelieving fashion.

  “Okay,” Kat said, “you’re right, he’s not your biggest fan, but still…it’s just talk. I swear that’s all it is. You don’t have to worry about Terry, Rick.”

  “I can certainly appreciate your care and loyalty to your brother, Kat, but what to do about it—it really is my call. Now, can I count on you to help me? To be loyal to the Party?”

  Kat didn’t know what to say; she didn’t know what to say at all. So, she said, “Yes.”

  “Excellent,” Rick said. He leaned in for a kiss and then he was gone.

  This had Kat thinking that perhaps Terry was right after all. How could he ask me to spy on my own brother? The situation was complicated. And terrifying. She wondered what she should do next. Talk to Terry? No. Then he’d be able to pull the I-told-you-so-gig. And she didn’t want to think anything bad of Rick. If she did, then it meant she was single again. And the dating pool was incredibly shallow in New Seattle. What to do?

  She considered her position if she were to cross Rick, or if any of the accusations were true. Then she considered her position if she stood by him. She imagined the latter to be the more lucrative arrangement. The safest course. But what would the real cost be?

  * * *

  Rick and his team of ruffians met to discuss the game plan for the coming days.

  “As you all know, we have two immediate problems to deal with.” This was met with grunts of approval. “We cannot support all of these refugees. I wish we could, I really do, but they are draining us dry. I’m not going to let a bleeding heart philosophy kill everyone in this camp. If we continue taking care of them, then we won’t have enough to make it through the winter. Nobody wins. We all die.

  “The most humane thing to do is turn them away. For our sake, yes, but ultimately, for theirs.”

  “But, Sir,” Trevor said, “haven’t we already tried that?”

  “We have,” Rick said, “and Trevor brings up a good point, which leads me to Plan B. They can either leave when asked nicely or—we can shoot them.”

  Some of the men smiled at this. Austin was sick to his stomach. He wondered how much longer he had until he shared the same fate as the doomed refugees.

  “So, that is issue number one. Issue number two is the dissenters or the Anti-Movement, as they like to call themselves. They are a cancer that we will cut out before it spreads. Right now, they are small. Relatively harmless, really. But what happens when they grow? What happens when they start inducting valuable members of our new society? What happens if God forbid, they were to gain a majority?”

  Rick surveyed the room and Austin made sure to wear the appropriate mask, communicating his concern.

  “We don’t need that kind of chaos taking root,” Rick said. “Order and allegiance to the Party secures our future. Dissenters, the Anti-Movement, are a direct threat to our survival. And I’m not just talking about us, personally. I am talking about the human race. If we have to exterminate them—we will.”

  No one seemed to object.

  Terry had asked Austin to engage in a misinformation campaign. That started now.

  Austin briefed Rick’s goons on the activities of the Antis. He told them how scared they were, that members were dropping away. That there was talk of abandoning the whole thing. That many were beginning to see the wisdom of the New Patriots’ way. That he didn’t expect the whole thing to last much longer.

  “There is no doubt,” Rick said, “that the Anti-Movement will be over shortly. They may very well fizzle out all by themselves. Still—we watch them. And after we deal with the refugees, we deal with them. In fact, dealing with one may take care of the other.”

  After the meeting, Austin sought out Terry, taking precautions not to be seen by Rick’s henchmen. He took the long way, slinking through alleys and avoiding as many eyes as possible.

  Would Rick really just gun down all of these innocent people? Austin believed he would.

  Finally, Austin caught up with Terry and Vince.

  “Look who decided to show up,” Vince said. He wore his contempt for Austin like a badge of honor.

  “Terry, I need to talk to you. It’s about Rick… He’s going to kill all of the refugees.”

  “What? When?” Terry asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “I was just with Rick. I don't know when, but I know he's going to kill them all.”

  “Oh my God,” Terry said.

  “Yeah—and that's not all. The Anti-Movement is next on his list....”

  * * *

  It was early in the morning when the gunshots started. First a unified blast, then screaming, followed by a cacophony of deafening rifle reports until it all stopped. It all—just�
�stopped. Smoking rifles and steaming blood on a cold October morning. And the refugees were no more.

  They had been told that vaccine supplies had arrived and they would assemble in Town Square, a small courtyard centered in the largest cluster of civilian housing, to receive their inoculation. Norma Carter had thought it strange to drag everyone out into the cold rather than inside Command for vaccinations, but she was not in a position to pose questions to the authority.

  So she followed. Her, her son Jason, and about two-hundred others. Promised salvation but gunned down like feral dogs. Norma held her son close; she used her body as a shield. After Jason watched his mother die and her former vessel, now a bloodied meat-sack, fell to the concrete, he cried out. He wailed for the only person left in this world who mattered, and now she was gone.

  His terror and mourning at the loss of his mother lasted only seconds, cut short, when a rifle slug entered his forehead above his right eye. He fell down on top of his mother, their blood mixed, and spirit left his body.

  It was a horrifying and gory scene. Elaborately set up to send a message, and the message was clear. Rick’s way or the rifle. Allegiance to the New Patriots or death.

  All of it happened within view from Terry’s bedroom window. When the gunshots started, Terry sprang from bed and parted the blinds. Every refugee, every outsider was assembled and mass executed by Rick’s men. If Terry had any lingering doubts about the New Patriots or Rick himself, they were erased forever in that moment.

  “Kat, Kat!” Terry called out. She had to see this. Horrible as it was, she had to see it. To see the man she was tangled up in for what he was.

  Rick stood by, in shadows, but Terry could make out the grin on his face. Power drunk on this macabre display, this was the real Rick Verdin. And Katherine needed to know.