And then nothingness.
40 – Codes That Don’t Sound Like Codes
Year: 2048
The sun was beginning to set by the time Matheson was finished with his day’s work. Already on television, the so-called experts were telling everyone who would listen why it was imperative to the Tyranny’s safety to begin dropping more bombs on the other side of the world.
“These people hate our freedom,” the expert said, his hair slicked back, makeup keeping him from shining too much under the studio lights. “And they won’t stop until they’ve killed all of us.”
On another station, a woman in an expensive suit was saying with a straight face that almost every single crime committed in the Tyranny over the past decade could have been prevented if everyone had a microchip inserted in his or her arm.
“It’s a little microchip,” she said. “Smaller than a dime. You’d never even know it was there. But it would help the Tyranny keep everyone safe.”
The host frowned and said, “But isn’t that what the AeroCams were created to do, to track everyone’s movements and words in order to protect us?”
“Well, yes, but the microchips will do an even better job.” She said even better with a grin and an infectious enthusiasm that made it sound as though being a moving dot on the Tyranny’s computer tracking system was the highest form of civilization that humanity could possibly reach. “And they’ll be able to track people in certain places where AeroCams don’t work.”
Matheson knew what she was getting at. The Thinkers were rumored to be holding their meetings in underground bunkers, in old Cold War shelters, and other places where the AeroCams’ infrared cameras couldn’t penetrate. Now, the Thinkers would finally have no place to hide from their oppressors.
The show’s host said, “Will the Tyranny’s Security Service also have the chips inserted in their arms? And the leaders? The Ruler?”
The women barked with laughter, apologizing when she snorted.
Instead of re-asking the question, the host joined her in laughter as if that was the response he had intended all along.
Matheson turned off the television and began walking down the hall. A man fell in line behind him, following at the same pace, two steps behind.
When they got outside, Matheson said, “There’s no need to escort me home tonight, Reggie. I’ll be fine.”
“Sir,” the man said, “I have to. You never know who might be out there, planning to hurt one of the Tyranny’s people.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said again. And then, looking up at an AeroCam hovering above them, he said, “I am excusing Reggie from his duty to escort me home. I’ll be fine.” Looking back at his security escort, he said, “There, it’s official. If anything happens to me, just have them retrieve the audio from that AeroCam.”
Without waiting for a reply, he began walking across the lawn, toward the security gate and toward his home, unseen in the distance. The streets were packed with cars, but none of them were moving. While waiting at an intersection, the cars finally inched forward, but only three or four feet, then they stopped again.
Although Matheson couldn’t see it, he knew what was holding the traffic up. A couple blocks away, on the other side of the nearest set of office buildings, was a checkpoint where every car had to stop so the driver could get out, answer questions, be patted down, and have his vehicle inspected. It was the same checkpoint they had passed through to get into the city in the first place. He felt sorriest for the people who only lived a mile or two away. Maybe their parents remembered how that commute amongst the capital’s congested streets could take twenty minutes. Now, with the checkpoints everywhere, the drivers would be lucky to get home before the rest of their family was done with supper and already asleep for the night.
He walked by a coffee shop and a shoe store. The few people he passed on the street kept their heads down, not wanting to look at the AeroCams above them or at any of the Tyranny’s other cameras because that in itself was a sign of possible guilt. Matheson would never need a security escort when people lived in this much fear.
After crossing another street and passing by a pair of hotels, he began walking along a stretch of little shops and row houses. Outside one of them, he paused. A bookstore.
The bookstore had a little bell above the door that jingled when he walked inside. He was the only customer. The few times he had been inside the shop, there had never been anyone else searching for something to read. There was a new push within the Tyranny to ban paper books, not because of anything they said, but because the Tyranny preferred knowing exactly what everyone was reading and could track all digital activity. Not only that, but what passages they particularly liked. That was impossible with printed books, but with electronic books the Tyranny could know exactly what everyone was reading.
“Good evening,” the shopkeeper said from behind her desk. Next to her, a black cat was sound asleep on top of the very book she had been trying to read. Another cat, mostly white with black ears, kept walking in circles where her other hand was resting, and politely begged for attention.
“Good evening,” Matheson said, inching along a row of books as he read the titles.
There was no music playing. No one on their cell phone. No television playing. Only aisle after aisle of books, the owner, and her two cats.
He leaned forward, inspected a couple of books, then held two in front of him for the old woman to see. One was a copy of The Time Machine and the other was a copy of Into Thin Air.
“Great books,” he said.
The old woman rubbed her knuckles across the white cat’s ears. Even on the other side of the store, Matheson could hear the purring ensue.
“What did you think of this?” the shopkeeper said, holding a faded paperback of A Farewell To Arms.
“Not my taste,” he said. “Didn’t sound believable to me.” He scooted further down the aisle and held up a pair of books. Slaughterhouse-Five and also Jailbird. “This is what I feel like reading tonight.”
“I can’t say I’m a fan,” the woman said.
“They’re an acquired taste.” And then, “This was also good.” He held up a copy of The Power Of Now.
“Maybe you would like this,” the bookseller said, showing him a copy of Waiting. “It won some awards.”
He scanned through the books in front of him, saw what he was looking for, and withdrew a copy of No Tomorrow and also a copy of The Man Who Watched The World End. “These never won awards, but I enjoyed them.”
“Is that so?”
Matheson nodded and moved along the shelves of books. One of the cats nudged the woman’s hand, wanting her to talk less and rub more. A minute later, the shopkeeper held up the same battered copy of A Farewell to Arms again.
"You're quite sure you're not interested?" she asked.
Matheson shook his head. "Not at the moment, I'm sorry. Maybe later, when the mood is right." He gazed into the shopkeeper's eyes, squinting briefly, and then looked away.
After a few more minutes, he thanked the shopkeeper for her time, smiled at the cats, which were both sound asleep, and wished life could be that simple for all living things.
As the bell jingled and he prepared to go back out on the street, he turned and said, “Good night,” and then he was walking again.
In a different reality, maybe he and everyone else could have simpler lives. Maybe there was a reality out there where he was sitting by the beach, not a care in the world. Maybe there was also a reality where, as the Ruler had mentioned, he and his friend switched places and it was Matheson who was in charge of the Tyranny. Somewhere, those realities and every other were playing out, he was sure of it. But all he could do was work in the one reality he was aware of and try to make it a better place. It was all anyone could do.
“And good night to you,” the shopkeeper said, watching the door close behind her customer, but he was already too far down the street to hear her.
As she watched, she saw that
the AeroCam that had been hovering over her store while Matheson was perusing the shelves of books had now moved along, following him down the street the same way the tiny cameras followed everyone down every street.
The bookstore returned to silence, save the soft purring the black cat offered in its sleep. The other cat began to twitch and the woman put a hand on its flank and said, “Shhh, it’s okay,” and the cat woke from its nightmare, looked at her for a moment, then closed its eyes again.
The book she had suggested, A Farewell to Arms, was still sitting next to her. She wished it could have been the one her customer was interested in.
A moment later she picked up the phone, dialed a number, and said, “I just got some good recommendations for our next book of the month. The book club should meet tonight to discuss which one we want to read.”
And then she hung up.
Epilogue
Text from the book found at Oak Island
My name is not worth mentioning here. Where I was born and who my parents are is also irrelevant. This is not a biography, a diary, or a wish. It is simply an account of the world I knew, a world that was so awful I risked death to go back in time and prevent it.
I swore when I signed up for this mission that I wouldn’t be reckless in how I went about changing history. Each of us who goes back in time has a series of events we try to change. Our actions should be limited to this list and not to items of our choosing. But having been sent back too far in time to accomplish anything meaningful, I simply cannot sit here and let history play out the way I know it will.
I know there are risks. I understand that leaving a record of what will happen might alter the course of history in a way I cannot predict. But for the people I love, for all the people I have seen suffer, the risk is worth taking.
In the reality I come from, war is used as an economic and political tool, people are scared into believing their freedom makes them susceptible to attack, and the elite are free to do whatever they want while everyone else languishes. There is only war, suffering, and brutality, and all of it is unnecessary and unceasing. A better world is possible.
With that thought in mind, I hope whoever finds this book becomes determined to preserve freedom and prevent the Tyranny from ruling over the rest of the world.
I and the others like me think people should be able to choose the type of world they live in rather than having it chosen for them. Our cause is to prevent a group of men from thinking they can kill whomever they want with total impunity. We aim to stop a government that detains and terrorizes whomever it chooses without consequence. We want to impede leaders from creating laws that control every aspect of life while having the gall to insist that even with these restrictions in place we are still a country of free people.
Our goal isn’t to do away with government. We do not want to keep the world stuck in a regressive age. We are not afraid of change. We do not abhor advancement and technology. Simply, our goal is to maintain a government that does what is best for the people rather than for itself and its rich allies. Our goal is to have leaders who represent their citizens, ensuring their safety and well-being, not leaders who work to keep themselves in power at the expense of the very people they are supposed to be serving.
While there have always been politicians who wanted power and notoriety more than they actually wanted to serve the people, in the Tyranny, they are no longer the exception but the standard. It takes money from the Tyranny’s wealthiest citizens to get elected. But this money isn’t given out of altruism; they expect a return on their investment. Leaders don’t just owe favors to their investors, they owe their entire position of power to them. And they can only hope to remain in office as long as they do what they are told. In return, new laws are written by corporate lawyers, then introduced by the leader as if it were his or her own idea. Laws to help them do whatever they want.
There was a time when democracies were made up of doctors, teachers, and farmers. They would quit their jobs for a few years, represent their people, then go home and continue their life. History’s best leaders were like that. But the Tyranny’s investors don’t care about qualified candidates, only servitude. And so it is never the best men and women who become leaders but the people who are easiest to corrupt.
Within the Tyranny, the leaders have no skills or expertise other than being able to do as they are told. They cannot diagnose sickness, teach children, or tend crops. They cannot defend an innocent man in a court of law. They do not know about discourse or mathematics or philosophy or history. They are career politicians, with no useful skills, not even the ability to write their own laws or comprehend the bills they are told to vote for.
Laws are no longer passed to benefit the entire population because the entire population isn’t keeping the leaders in power. A wealthy few are. The middle class is stolen from and abused. The poor are completely forgotten. The soldiers who fight for the Tyranny, honored when they go off to battle, are ignored and left to care for themselves when they return with mental and physical traumas.
Once money controlled all of the leaders, and by extension, all of the Tyranny’s policies, the country quickly turned into a place of lunacy and double standards. If profit can be made, common sense takes a back seat. No one is safe from the madness except the wealthy elite, who pay good money to do as they please.
Officially, there is only one set of laws in the Tyranny. But those laws are applied in two drastically different ways depending on who they are applied to. Each law can be enforced with harsh adherence or ignored completely, depending on who was hurt and who will benefit. In any land where that can happen, the citizens are not equal. People have become imprisoned with tyranny, not through barbed wire and forced labor camps, but with an abundance of laws that could enslave an entire population while leaving the wealthiest few untouched.
Madness reigns.
Banks are rewarded for taking people’s homes and forcing them out onto the streets. Corporations are allowed to pollute rivers and streams. Everyone else is sent to prison, where they enter a cycle of being in and out of jail for the rest of their lives. Instead of focusing on reforming inmates, the original intention of the prison system, companies that run jails keep finding ways to keep inmates behind bars because the longer they are there the more profit the companies make.
Animals within the Tyranny have it just as bad. A wise man once said that the greatness of a nation and its moral progress could be measured by how it treats its animals. Well, in the Tyranny, animals are tortured at corporate factories for no reason at all other than to pass the time. And instead of addressing this issue, the Tyranny has passed laws making it illegal to document the mistreatment. Not a great indicator of moral progress.
If an individual in the Tyranny makes a bad investment, there is nothing they can do; it is the nature of investing money. But if a bank makes a bad investment, the Tyranny reimburses them for their losses. Families within the Tyranny have to pay their debts or else they are thrown out on the streets. Their houses are taken. But the Tyranny never pays the money it owes. Nor do its friends. The middle class is poor and desperate. The people who had already been poor now sink into oblivion.
A fog of dejection has washed over the people. Because they have to obey the Tyranny’s nonsensical whims, no matter how much it harms them, the entire population has fallen into a state of utter obedience and poverty.
This is what happens when democracy becomes tyranny.
When people try to speak out against these injustices, the Tyranny silences them. It was never specifically stated that anyone working for the Security Service could kill whomever they wanted, but because the Tyranny never punishes those who do the killing, it is quietly understood. People have stopped protesting because they realize they can be beaten or killed and no one will ever be held accountable.
People see their friends dragged off to prisons for minor infractions while the most powerful corporations write checks in order to do whatever th
ey want. Instead of marching in the streets when this happens, the people remember the footage of protesters being beaten and bloodied and they know the only thing they can do is try to ignore the travesty and keep living their lives. It is easier than the alternative: looking into a baton, taser, or blaster.
To keep people obedient, the Tyranny tries to convince everyone that its actions are in the people’s best interest. No matter how absurd one of their new laws or regulations sounds, they offer statistics to verify just how important that law is to ensuring everyone’s safety. Lives will be saved. An imminent attack will be prevented. They never discuss specifics. You just have to take their word for everything. When people are scared they can be convinced of anything.
Unless everyone is groped and harassed, a bomb might go off. Unless the Tyranny can listen to everything everyone says, a radical may blow up a building. There is never any evidence to support these claims, but people go along with it anyway. Fear and denial are amazing tools.
And so I implore you, no matter who you are, do not let the things I speak of in these pages become reality. Do not let our country, a place founded on hope, understanding, and equality, turn into a beacon of war and tyranny.
Remember, the Tyranny I escaped from did not begin with some evil dictator taking power. Rather, the Tyranny was created by corrupt leaders who became so greedy they were willing to ignore the people they were supposed to be serving. It was not a change that took place overnight in a violent overthrow or an armed revolution. It changed slowly, over many decades, until it resembled no philosopher’s idea of democracy, no professor’s vision of a land of freedom.
Each time a war was fought for strategic gains, economic incentives, or plain old profit, the Tyranny took shape. Each time a bomb was dropped for any reason other than defeating evil, the people were one step closer to having leaders who were capable of putting money and power ahead of compassion and understanding. Each time laws were passed to control the people rather than serve them, the vague outline of tyranny began to take shape.
The Theta Prophecy Page 23
