Life: A Life Trilogy

by Travis Knoll

  I raced to the CIA’s New York Office, central command of the cyber security division. Lifers were leaving the building in hoards from the power outage. The building had the emergency backup lighting on that was lit in a yellow color in the middle of the hall and red at the exits. The yellow lights started to flicker as the power in the building was rapidly diminishing from running on auxiliary power.

  Calm and collected, I entered the building through security with some of the other Lifers in groups. The security x-ray and magnetic machines were all down and everyone had to be checked manually by the security guard. The flashlights flickered around the room. I was forced to stop by the security guard, and told to stay there, as they had to pat me down.

  "I forgot my files in my briefcase to take home, sorry, sir," I said.

  "Pull out your pockets and open your hands," the guard said.

  I pulled out my pockets and opened my hands as the guard flashed light in my eyes and patted me down.

  "Alright, but hurry, everyone is supposed to leave for the day," the security guard said.

  "Thank you, sir, and have a nice day," I said.

  I quickly walked through security, pulled out the flash drive from my tie, and walked upstairs to an office that had a sign reading Cyber Security of the CIA on it. Everyone was leaving the room and the exit lights were red. Lifers shoved me, getting out of the office in a frantic pace. The light from the exit revealed the shadows of the people walking through the cubicles. I bumped into one of the Lifer workers, stared him in the eyes, procuring a loathsome raised right brow, as if to ask me what I was doing. I snagged his security clearance badge and put it discreetly in my pocket.

  The room of the cyber security office was dark and empty. I hurried to sit in front of a computer. The room was partitioned by cubicles and aligned like a maze. I found a cubicle to sit at, and peered up from the cubicle’s partition, glancing around for Lifers. There was a screen that stated: Put an access card in, please. I slid the security access card in that I got from the Lifer that walked shrewdly by me out of the office. The computer said “Thanks, Mr. Richards, access granted.”

  I put the flash drive into the computer and acquired access to the CIA central email command. A Lifer on the other end of the office walked through the cubicles and spotted me.

  "Hey man, we got to get out of here, everything is going to shut down here shortly, boss’s orders," the Lifer stated.

  "Yeah, I know, I just have to get this last email out for the day and I'm done. You know how it is," I said with a glowing smile as the man walked out of the office.

  The CIA email mainframe came up and I imported and attached the information from the flash drive into the email. The stamp signature at the bottom of the email stated that it was from the CIA, and I addressed the email to be sent to everyone on file, all the instapress Lifes and everyone outside of the system. The information was sent to Talks to forward to the instapress, and stated in the body of the email “the truth” and to share as much as possible. I gained access into the alert system that functioned as a red alert text messaging service to notify the Lifers in case of emergency, or anything in the area that was of importance, and placed a time alert to be sent out to the masses, the Lifers, Half-Lifes, Unlifes with the same information that was in the email.

  I texted Talks and told him that the operation was complete and to send the information through to the instapress once at the press conference.

  Talks messaged back, asking what press conference. I told him that he would get more information shortly.

  An alarm sounded, making the security red light flash in the corners of the building continually, and all the screens in the computer read “Security Breach” in thick, bold letters. I grabbed my phone and scanned the email to make sure that it was sent, and it had gone through.

  Security guards ran through the building’s hall and doorways, searching for the breach in security. I stood up with my hands raised as the security guards pointed the guns with flashlights on the end all over my body like a spotlight. I wasn't going anywhere as they continued to yell freeze.

  "What took you so long?" I asked. They handcuffed me and escorted me to a different part of the building.

  They forced me into a separate room that was encapsulated from the rest of the offices. It was a dark, soundproof, more secure questioning room. The guards opened a door and a couple of FBI agents walked into the room; behind them the hallway reserve halogen light flickered. Lifers passed by, being guided by their silhouette that bounced off them, like a strobe light at a disco of a perpetual underground Lifers’ dance club. The light flickering showed me they were running short on auxiliary power and would need more backup power soon.

  "You know you're gonna fry, crap weasel, that or you'll be in the pin for the rest of your Life," the agent said. I said nothing, nor did I change my stoic facial expression.

  "Crap weasel, I'm talking to you, and there is nowhere to go at this point. Are you working with the Uprising? Or do you want us to make your permanent address Rikers Island?" the agent continued.

  "I'll give you the names and locations of the Uprising, and make the power come back on, on one condition," I said. It was with an almost smug tonality, knowing that they could never put my mind in jail.

  "Yeah? What's that, punk?" the agent asked.

  "You call a press conference, and that will force them to turn the power back on." I paused, and the room filled with silence. "I will even give you names and locations. You have nothing to lose, only more power," I said.

  The FBI agents stood next to each other and agreed to make a press conference for me to release the information to the public.

  March 24, 2035

  New York, New York

  CIA Command Center

  15:57

  The lights flickered in the press conference room that was running on auxiliary power, and was using the backup lights, bleeding the reserve power. The government's Lifer reporters sat in attendance with some still trying to find their way to a seat for the emergency press conference. Talks, Signs, Odysseus and Alex sat in the back of the room, scattered throughout, wearing the day walker clothing to camouflage with the rest of the population.

  A live broadcast started in the conference area that was projecting it directly to Times Square and other regions across the country along with patrons and supporters of the Uprising. A Lifer in a suit that was the head of the Cyber Security Division of the CIA walked to the central focal point that is marked by a single podium with the seal of the CIA on it. The man told everyone to please be seated, and that they had called this important announcement from the leader of the Uprising. He said that the leader was going to tell the seated audience where the Uprising was located in order to turn the power back on. He wants his Life back, and in exchange he would reveal the real truth.

  I was escorted out to the podium, bound by two armed security guards that attended to each side of me like I shot someone. I glanced around, at ease, toward the room of Lifers in attendance, all hoping for my imminent blood bath, and I was silent.

  Underground, in the Uprising’s central command, the people of the Uprising watched on the projection screen at the flickering lights that showed me in a strobe-like fashion. The words on the screen stated that I was the leader of the Uprising, and I was going to reveal their location with names in order to get the power back on. Smith stood in attention, almost in disbelief, with the rest of the Lifes as their leader fell before them, and said that he was going to give them all up. Some of them were trying to scramble for information on where to go for safety, and hide out. If I released the information, they could be killed or locked up for complying with the Uprising.

  The Lifers’ reporters were sitting on the edge of their seats with tablets in their hands, waiting to express the government’s information of the story that they wanted them to tell. The light barely revealed their faces, but I noticed in the back a hand that gestured a motion
with a thumbs up, that was Talks, and on the other side of the room was Signs petting Odysseus, and Alex was dressed to the Lifer nines.

  I nodded my head at Talks as some Lifer reporters started to demand questions from my silence. Talks took his phone out and texted Smith to release the CIA information from the flash drive through the instapress pipeline. Alex let Smith know to change the live link projection in the pressroom at the same time, and simultaneously everyone’s phones received a red alert text message masked as the CIA, stating the same information that was in the text message to the instapress that was now on the projection screen behind me.

  Multiple alerts were continually heard going off around the room as hysteria had set in. In the building, people were asking if the information came from the CIA, and I was quiet.

  From the back of the pressroom, Alex yelled, "Let him go," and some of the other Lifers followed suit, gaining Life, all yelling together to let me go. I was immediately grabbed by the guards and taken away to a concealed safe room...

  In the streets, people simultaneously were alerted of the new information that the CIA and their own government had set them up and infiltrated their minds, thus raising their taxes. They realized some of the truths that they were holding against them. There was mass hysteria and looting in the streets, fires broke out, and glass was being thrown at the building that held me inside. The city had completely revolted in the streets, graffitiing the buildings and creating fires in the streets. A revolution had started, and the people wanted their freedom back. They rushed the CIA building that housed me. The guards secured me from the pressroom to a secure room that resembled some sort of interrogation room.

  March 24, 2035

  New York, New York

  CIA Command Center

  16:47

  In 1618, the Thirty Years War began and the city state of the Holy Roman Empire began to heavily debase currency in order to raise revenue for the war to begin to put the currency toward creating capital for the war, as effective taxation did not exist.

  The coins that were originally minted were being debased, which were taken out of circulation, melted and mixed with baser metals such as lead, copper or tin, making them lesser in value, but the same overall weight, and of course re-issued. This led to minting low-value imitation coins. The imitations were spent in neighboring territories, away from their homeland. What did this lead to?

  The devalued imitation currencies inflated the economy and resulted in need of coins at a raised tax rate. This worked for a while until the general public caught on. There were riots, and people refused to work until real coins were issued as payment. What happened?

  More coins were printed and produced to the extent there was almost no value. They were used as toys for kids in the streets at one point. Their goal was accomplished to raise taxes and a larger mint. This has happened numerous times throughout history and should be nothing new, the question was why?

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

  I was in a soundproof interrogation room that was in total darkness. I realized that there were no handles and no apparent doors for entrance or exit that were discernible in any fashion around the room, it appeared to be just one wall built entirely together. A small red light the size of a nail head came on in the front right corner of the room. It created a vignetted glow around the area that showed myself handcuffed to a metal chair, and staring into a one-way mirror, in the center of the room.

  Silence was not golden when a person sat alone with their thoughts. We didn’t realize that our thoughts didn’t stop and they became even more evident in the quiet times, and this could either break me or make me at this point. They left me in there for what seemed like an eternity, but I didn't care of the time and only smiled at myself in the mirror.

  A broad-shouldered Mephistophelian figure walked into the room behind me from a hidden door in the wall. He was silent, but I could feel his presence staring at me, thinking of what to say. He moved a bit and I could see his figure in the mirror and I knew who it was.

  "I knew your father," the man said. He took a step closer to me, and I turned my head to look at him. He was dressed like an upper-crust Lifer. He wore a Ralph Lauren purple label suit, and a navy blue silk handkerchief poked out of his left breast pocket a half inch to show the severity of the meeting. His thoughts, however, didn't resemble Lifer actions.

  "Should I call you Mithra?" I asked, and he only answered with a dimpled gesture.

  "Your father was right, you are very wise. Those people at the instapress have such a vivid imagination," The Mithra Man said.

  "Why do you do this to these Lifers?" I asked.

  "We are civilized. I am sorry, my friend. Please let me take these off you," The Mithra Man stated. He took the handcuffs off that bound me to the chair. The handcuffs were placed on the table and we both looked at each other. It was strange, I didn't feel any angst against this man. In some way perhaps he was doing what he thought was right and placing direction before the people's eyes.

  "Do you think these people are going to save you?" The Mithra Man asked.

  "What do you want with us?" I asked.

  "Do you know what the Kipper Und Wipper Effect continues to do to our society, my friend?" The Mithra Man asked. I quietly shook my head.

  "Well, in short form, to save us some time, the Holy Roman Empire, in the fifteenth century, thinned the metal money to increase its output to neighboring countries. It thinned the valued metals, creating a higher influx of money and thus creating higher taxes for the people, or one of the first inflationary periods," The Mithra Man said.

  "Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

  "I knew I would lose you. Youth these days have little to no patience, but this has all happened before and will continue to happen. The money is the illusion, as Lifers then rioted because of loss of the thought of real money, and the taxes were raised in order to compensate. Eventually the Lifes that have the power at the top had more control to dictate Lifers without them knowing it."

  "Who the hell do you work for? President Johnson?" I asked in an agitated state.

  The Mithra Man leaned nonchalantly against the wall. I had heard rumors of a man that was controlling the people of the world with his hands in everything because of his wealth. The stories stated that he was a demonic figure with three horns coming out of his head, hooves for hands, and he never took a shit that was perpetuated by him never eating... I didn't see it...

  "The President is our puppet and a part of the same effect with more money propagates easier control. This is all in the Bible -- Proverbs 22:16: One who oppresses the poor to increase his wealth and one who gives gifts to the rich -- both come to poverty. The goal is to weed out the population; in this regard, nothing changes. Lifers just fall into the allure of money so easily, so this is what we use. Rabbits chase carrots, dogs sit for bones, a moth goes to the flame, fish are lured by worms and Lifers kill for cash... We have all of the Lifers’ thoughts," The Mithra Man said.

  "I can give you what you want," I said, and was greeted with laughter under the Mithra Man’s breath.

  "I don't have any wants, and if I need anything, and I mean anything, I simply have it acquired. What I need is for the population to be thinned, and I am afraid that you're a part of that as well," the Mithra Man said. "You see, I have the burden to keep society moving forward, and this is for the greater good of needs."

  "You can't kill me. If you do, I will be their leader forever," I stated.

  "Are you trying to make a deal with the devil? We created the Uprising by having Adam killed," the Mithra Man said. I didn't know what to say, as everything was a lie, even more so than I had previously thought.

  "Both sides can win," I said.

  "We already own both sides, you see, and there can only be one winner," the Mithra Man stated.
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  "So with the Kipper Und Wipper, how did it end?" I asked.

  "They gave some back to the people in order to pacify them," The Mithra Man continued.

  "The pacifier now can be right in their hands, you can allow them freedoms to fill their minds with sports games and things like organized religion to fight over. This is if you can allow the noose of the taxes to be withdrawn in the freedom of the taxes, and take it elsewhere to pacify them, like education and insurance, raise the rates and place the wool," I said.

  "You want to become their leader?" the Mithra Man asked. I by reactionary measure nodded my head.

  Another hidden door opened from the wall as if from nowhere. Two overly large men grabbed me from behind and escorted me toward the door. I turned and looked at the Mephistophelian figure resting against the wall like some sort of 50s rendition of Arthur Fonzarelli in Happy Days. He thought he was cool...

  "There are no winners," I said. The large men pulled me halfway through the door.

  "Wait."

  The large men paused and the Mithra Man stared deep into my eyes. Peering into his eyes was like staring into a fire of a thousand suns, it hurt, but there was some sort of mystical allure there.

  The overly large Lifer cronies threw me back in the chair and strapped me to it, banding both of my arms with leather straps. In front of me the two-way mirror turned to show a TV tube propaganda video of what appeared to be President Johnson and Pastor Michael singing hypnotically in complete unison. It was gut-wrenching, and if I had the choice, I would poke my eyes out and stuff them in my ears to muffle the sound. The more I tried to avoid and fight the noise, the more that it brought me in and became alluring. I started to enjoy the subsequent light and noise that was given off, changing my thoughts.