Life: A Life Trilogy

by Travis Knoll

  "People still need to eat and we need supplies," I said.

  Alex walked by, looking at Signs implement the numbers to crack the code into the computer.

  "Can we transfer money into Alex's account to be used here? I would guess they probably aren't monitoring funds that are outside of the country. You can have it in your country’s bank and pull it out slowly with our cryptos to make sure no alarms go off," I said.

  "It could work and then I can buy supplies up top with the crypto currencies," Alex said.

  Odysseus bit on my leg, getting my attention, and motioned to Signs, who petted him. He showed me the binary output from the computer that translated the code. All it said was “St. Mark's at Abraco Coffee Shop at 9 a.m. tomorrow -- meet.”

  "I think my father is trying to help us," I said.

  "Are you kidding me? That guy that you call your father tried to kill you," Talks said.

  "I have to figure this out. What if he is trying to tell me something? I think he actually wants to help," I said.

  "Oh, you can't be serious. You American idiot, that man will destroy you, and you will take us all down," Alex said.

  That man tried to kill you, remember that, but he is your father, Signs signaled. His calm thoughts were right, he was my father.

  "He didn't kill me, and the question is why. Listen, I'm through with this. I am going to talk to him," I stated.

  Signs stopped me, signaled in a calm fashion, and then put his hands together in a praying affirmation. When he did this, I was always calmed. He was wise...

  "He's saying that we will go and look out for you. Your thoughts are too important to the Uprising at this point, my friend. We will be undetected," Talks said.

  Our attention was drawn to a militaristically dressed person, Smith, who had an ironed uniform and chiseled features. Smith was taking and dictating orders from Alex and the others. He walked to the center stage and drew all of the Now-Lifes’ attention in the underground encampment. He was appointed in charge of operations directly under myself, Alex, Signs, and Talks.

  A projection screen came down, projecting a world map that was lit up, spinning. The projection screen was connected to the live link that could intercept a broadcast. Smith pulled out a laser pointer and pointed at various places around the map.

  "The only way we can fight them is to fight on level ground. This is the procedure that we are going to implement," Smith stated.

  The projection screen showed a couple of different steps that were being outlined on the map. Computers ran the power grids in the world and this was being pointed out by Smith.

  1. Take power grids out and hold the governments hostage.

  2. Make sure other areas in the world that were a part of the Uprising were on board, and take down their countries successively after ours.

  3. We would operate on our external power that was set up here and could live until they met our demands.

  4. At this point we would negotiate a treaty with the new leverage for a fair tax for the people and possibly more.

  "This man is feeding the masses the wrong information, and we will start to give the right information to the ones that want Life." The screen showed a picture of President Johnson with a thumbs up, saying “Don't forget to vote.”

  "We will use the instapress, which I helped to found, to distribute this information on a just platform to the people properly," Smith said.

  Smith glanced at me sitting in the corner of the control room.

  "We're going to be led by none other than the infamous TaxMan," Smith said. The attention turned in the encampment to myself as I stood and waved at them.

  "Now you all know your orders, so get to work. We have a bit over a day, and time is something we don't have," Smith continued.

  "I have to go and meet my father. Are you coming?" I stated, and looked at Signs and Talks nod.

  March 24, 2035

  New York, New York.

  St. Marks -- Abraco Coffee Shop

  08:55

  The streets were painted in a Dadaesque style, taking the propaganda from President Johnson and Pastor Michael, and illustrating handlebar mustaches, cartoon eyes, and bodies pieced together with newspaper clippings. The affluent hustlers had their soldiers flipping drugs that were discreetly concealed with the governmental propaganda fliers. The area was a neutral ground dictated on one side by the Cave Adsum marker plus a number denoting who lived there. The other side was barren of Uprising markings and allowed for some of the Unlifes and Lifers to intermingle in society during the working hours. Some of these residents pushed the hard road on their own in the Half-Life realm, trying to control the balance of their negative and positive controlled thoughts that were forced inside. It was a war within...

  Street vendors that sold different assorted flowers and underneath also sold some sort of contraband, from pornography magazines, sold primarily to Lifers to track their marks and control their beleaguered thoughts, to porn that was out of print. There was marijuana being smoked and used to propagate untraceable cash exchanges away from the cryptocurrency centralized marketplaces. All run by the corner street hustlers directing their soldiers. The pornography and drugs were banned in most places, but in the neutral areas they were airdropped in and left there to control thinking to see who had the fittest thoughts. This was the governments’[his] way of weeding out, or thinning, the herd, and letting their existential cream rise.

  Rabbits chased carrots, dogs sat for bones, a moth went to the flame, fish were lured by worms, and Lifers killed for cash...

  The Lifers pushed through the streets, going to work dressed in the same manner, carrying a briefcase and ignoring what was going on around them. I glanced from across the street at the coffee shop, covered by a street vendor’s yellow azaleas. Talks and Signs were behind me with eyes on my father, Frank, who sat at the Abraco Coffee Shop just across the street.

  "It looks clear, just maintain watch from here, and I'll be quick," I said as Talks nodded at me.

  "I'm pulling you out if anything goes sour, pal," Talks said, and Signs put his hands together, praying for me.

  I walked around the street corner to the back of the Abraco Coffee Shop. I walked through the back entrance, checking the area, smiling at the baristas and kitchen workers, garnering a propitious smile at me, as if they knew who I was.

  The newspaper closed, and I cleared my throat as I peered over my father’s shoulder while he placed the newspaper on the table.

  "I knew you'd come," Frank said.

  I scanned the area, remained quiet, and my father didn't budge from watching the street cars driving by in front of the coffee shop. He only motioned calmly for me to take a seat in front of him.

  "Of course I was coming, you stole my money," I said.

  "Would your friends like to join us as well?" Frank asked with a smirk. He directed his eyes toward where Signs and Talks were trying to stay hidden, on the other side of the street, with the azaleas waving in the breeze.

  "They're fine, just security, as I am sure that you can understand, considering our last meeting," I said. I scanned the area, suspecting he had one of his cronies spying on me.

  "Not to worry, I'm alone," Frank said in a calm demeanor.

  We both paused, staring into each other’s eyes...

  "What the hell is your problem? Destroying your family, and running out on us?" I asked.

  "There's a lot that you don't understand, Son. It was either I leave or they would come for you and mark you. It was for the greater good to protect you and your mother. I loved you both," Frank said, in a tranquil state. I sat back in the chair with a million thoughts running through my head.

  "Ad mais bonum. It was as you said, for the greater good."

  "That's right."

  "Who the hell are they?"

  "We first need to ask who created the Uprising in the first place, and do you think they don't know what you're planning to do to the
power system."

  "How the hell did you know that? We haven't told anyone."

  "I left the binary code and took the money because I knew it would garner you attention, and you would be able to figure it out and others wouldn't. You were so wise with those computers. I remember you building your first one out of those scraps you found around the city," Frank said with a consoling gesture that touched the both of us. He wasn't a bad guy, I thought, he had a heart. Frank took a sip of his coffee and folded up the newspaper.

  "A good businessman needs to understand how to play both sides so he knows he can't lose, but also has to be able to segregate the masses in order to make money. If everyone likes plain vanilla, my son, there would be little room for businesses to make profit, as they would all try to compete and sell vanilla."

  "Are you trying to tell me that the government is a part of the Uprising?" I asked.

  "No, the people that invest into the governments created the Uprising and they want you to be their leader, but you must know that the Uprising will only make things worse for the Lifes. They will pin everything, all of the tax implications and the poverty, on the Uprising. Then they will state that the Lifers are working, as they mindlessly walk around like drones. They want you to be in charge."

  Frank glanced around the area, surveying the traffic on the street, and got up from the table. He placed a note inside the newspaper and tucked it inside his breast pocket.

  "Money doesn't really exist, you see, as it's just pieces of paper with dead Lifers’ heads on them so the animals don't eat each other. Why do you think they allowed certain music, TV tube programs and books to be introduced into the system? Think about the curfew bell, it's only to put a hypnotic spell on everyone."

  My thoughts raced around at the new information of what Lifers or even Lifes for that matter usually did, or talked about. We weren’t able to think about two things at once, and that was how they controlled. By allowing a sports game to be talked about, or a radio station to state the new-wave money-making miracle to gain Life. A Lifer's 401k that was arbitrarily procuring dividends lost all intrinsic value, as the government used it for their Ponzi Scheme, it was all fake, and an effort to control our thoughts. The news was live linked the majority of the day to inject their mainline approbation of personal negative triggers to be embedded into a person’s subconscious, and it worked.

  The goal was to create Lifers that they could control and move forward with their picture of the future, and it was consuming my thoughts all the more. They had scientists in labs working around the clock to poke, prod, and figure out how to corral the masses. Talks even told of how the sugar industry in the 1950s paid a Harvard scientist to state that fat was the main concern in heart disease and sugar was a part of a healthy diet.

  What happened?

  The statistics showed a rather abundant rise in the number of cancer deaths thereafter. Furthermore, he controlled their thoughts to let them kill themselves in fear of overpopulation.

  "Have you heard of the Mithra Man?" Frank asked.

  "I've heard rumors," I said.

  At the crosswalk in front of the street vendor, Frank took a handkerchief out of his pocket and pushed the crosswalk button.

  "They would kill me if they knew I was talking to you, but I had to after I saw you on the Empire State Building," Frank said. He peered at me with the honest, loving eyes only a father would share.

  My jaw dropped, confused by the new information coming from a person that I hadn't shared time with in years. "Listen, Son, it's been this way forever, and it isn't a conspiracy. They feel it's their duty to control people because the herd can't make decisions on their own. It's been this way throughout time, the tulip bubble, and the Kipper Und Wipper coin fiasco of the fifteenth century. It's all been planned."

  Frank’s attention turned to peer vehemently into my eyes.

  "You can't let the Uprising do what they're planning, as it will only make it worse for everyone," Frank said.

  "It's too late. I'm their leader..." I stated. We watched the cars pass by in front of us in the busy intersection.

  "I had to get your attention, but just so you know, the money is in a safety deposit box, and the key will be delivered to your mother."

  Frank reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a note that was wrapped by the newspaper.

  "I have to give you something," Frank said, as the little man on the crosswalk lit up, and we took our first step onto the street to cross St. Marks.

  A black car with tinted windows instantly ran the red light and Frank pushed me out of the way, and he was run over. The tires screeched as the car sped off. Talks, Signs, and Odysseus immediately raced to my side.

  I tried to help my father in some way to stop the perpetual wheezing with every breath being exerted. He lifted up his suit jacket and revealed blood on his white dress shirt and signs of internal bleeding running its course. I attempted to move him, but he shook his head no and stopped me, pushing me away to leave.

  "Get out of here, and remember what I said, it's for the greater good," Frank said in a raspy voice.

  "It too late for me and I loved you, but here, you will need this," Frank said as he handed me a note wrapped by a newspaper.

  The cars honked and sirens were heard surrounding the area as people screamed someone had been hit. Frank's eyes faded closed. Signs grabbed me from behind, trying to pull me from traffic.

  "We have to go," Talks yelled. I continued to try and get to my father, and clenched the bloody note wrapped in newspaper from him at the same time.

  "It's him or you... We need to go now, or we will all go down together," Talks stated. They pulled me from the streets, crying, with the fading sight of blood dripping from my father’s mouth.

  March 24, 2035

  New York, New York.

  Command Center -- Underground

  09:47

  The smacking of footsteps was heard as the three of us ran through the damp sewer. Talks glanced up at the light that was shinning through the storm drains that was coupled with rain trickling down. Talks grabbed me, he wanted answers and so did I, as I tried to collect my emotions.

  "What the hell was he saying?" Talks asked.

  "My fucking father just died in front of me, relax," I yelled, which echoed through the underground.

  We approached the Uprising’s room in the underground area as we continued to bicker about what my father said, and what just happened. I remained quiet, trying to collect my thoughts, and not revealing any information.

  I cleared my eyes of the waning tears that fell from the loss of my father, and opened the newspaper with the note inside of it that my father gave to me before he died. Talks and Signs glared at me. I examined the note with a couple of the others gathered around.

  "He saved me..." I said.

  "What is it? What did he say to you?" Alex asked, as she came closer.

  "We can't go through with this mission anymore," I said.

  Everyone in the central command center turned their attention to me, as the troops were getting ready for the planned power outage agenda.

  "He's controlling you. That's exactly what he would have wanted you to say. You can't trust this guy even if he is your father, pal," Talks said.

  "No, he was trying to help and we are playing into their hands with this," I said.

  "How are we playing into their hands? We control this operation," Talks stated.

  "They'll allow it, so they can pin more tax raises on the Uprising in the future. It's what they did in the past and it's what they're going to do again," I said.

  "Then we continue to fight," Alex stated, raising her voice.

  I paused, glancing at the note from my father that was encrypted in a binary code once again, trying to tell me something.

  I grabbed a computer from the table next to Signs and decrypted the information.

  A beeping siren was heard ringing in the underground encamp
ment, and everyone's attention was turned toward an incoming live link broadcast of President Johnson, in the press room of the White House, through the live internal link. He was talking of the current economic affairs of the US, and world economies. He said that the problem with the economy stemmed from the mysterious Uprising. He stated that the taxes were going to need to be raised once again and they were going to put a bounty of one hundred thousand dollars, offered to anyone that could bring information on the Uprising to them.

  Everyone in the underground command center smirked at the thought of a one-hundred-thousand-dollar bounty as the screen projection was turned off.

  The letter from my father drew my attention. On the outside it had a red wax tulip that was the same as the first letter that I got from him. The only words that my father wrote were “Your mother loved tulips.” My mother loved azaleas, I thought. I finished typing the binary code from the note, and it read, "Jeremiah 1:5." Talks and Signs stood around me and everyone perceivably wanted answers, as there was a lot that none of us knew.

  I searched for what the passage in the Bible stated: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you. I have appointed you as a prophet to nations."

  "I never knew that my father was a spiritual person," I said, grabbing the attention of the others in the encampment.

  "The Uprising is ready to move forward with the mission," Alex said.

  "I think we should wait a moment, as my father warned of doing this," I said.

  "We don't have time. People are starving because of your President," Alex said. "Listen, if you don't have the guts to make the call, I will!" Alex said, raising her voice.

  "I will make the call, but give me twenty-four hours from now. We need a bit more preparation to move forward with this," I said, getting in Alex's face, making her calm her demeanor.