New Kings of Tomorrow

by J. M. Clark

  Today was a sad day for her. But even though she knew she was leaving her only home, her two children, and every friend she had ever made, she still smiled as she joined the group. She was placing all of her trust with the one she loved. Regardless of what ended up being beyond the quarantine zone—whether it was a beautiful world or immediate death—it would be okay because it will have been her choice. In the end, that was all that really mattered.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Trevor

  “Who the hell do you all think you are? You think you can just do whatever you want to us, and just because you hide behind the guise of the government, that we have to take it? Well, I’m not gonna just bend over and allow you to have your way with me. You are looking at a marine, sir. You will give me the respect that I deserve!” Trevor hovered above his seat, his hands gripping the arms of the chair so hard that his knuckles were white. He roared across the desk, aiming every ounce of venom stored inside of his heart for the last twenty years at Sirus.

  “This place isn’t exactly the utopia you all think it is. You believe you can house us all in this stupid building and boom, everything works out? Well, you have no idea how wrong you are. Most of these Palace-born folks are so messed up in the head that they could rival weirdos from the Old World.” Trevor took a breath and sat back in his seat. Sirus sat across the desk, studying his face. He didn’t speak or interrupt, and Trevor felt that was odd. He expected the program director to defend himself, the Order, and all that they were doing here.

  “You know, I figured this out long ago. I won’t lie, I still haven’t figured it all out, but you can bet your ass it’s not what you all say it is.” Trevor grunted in a dismissive way, waving his hand in Sirus’s direction. Being watched the way he was now was beginning to make him feel…observed. “Why are you looking at me like that? Say something. You made them bring me here, probably told them to knock me over the head too.”

  “Oh no, finish speaking. I think every opinion in the Palace is important, and clearly, you are angry. So please…finish.” Sirus moved his chair closer to the desk and placed his elbows on the surface, cheeks resting in his hands. His eyes flashed with interest.

  Trevor pointed across the table at Sirus, narrowing his eyes. “Go fuck yourself, fella. Don’t play games with me. I’ve seen things that would make your head spin, things that would keep you up at night, and I’m talking before the sickness. You sit across this big important desk, giving orders, believing you are better than the rest of us. You aren’t though. DAMMIT, YOU AREN’T!” Trevor pounded the desk with a balled-up fist, causing the golden globe in the center to shake.

  “I hate to interrupt, Mr. Cox, but can I ask a question?” Sirus raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. “I will most definitely allow you to finish your thought, but I’d like to know something.”

  Trevor smiled, keeping his rage just beneath the surface. For the moment. “Sure, it’s your place.”

  “Thank you, sir. Why are you so angry with me and what we have created here? When there was no hope, the surviving members of the different governing bodies around the world got together and rescued the people from eventual demise, and yet you seem unhappy with us. Were you forced to come here? The quarantine security team was instructed to only bring individuals in need of saving. If you expressed to them you did not want to be saved, they should have allowed you to stay wherever it is that they found you.” Sirus gave a sympathetic look.

  “No, I wasn’t forced to come. My wife wasn’t either. But what else were we to do?” He threw both hands in the air.

  “Whatever you wanted to do. The decision was yours. You opted to come here, and now you spit in the face of the people who made that happen for you.”

  Trevor started laughing. “Are you fucking kidding me? Listen, don’t do that egghead double-talk nonsense with me. I’m not as dumb as the other people here from the Old World or the idiots who were born here, so you can drop the ‘who me?’ act right now, because it doesn’t play with me at all.”

  Sirus looked at Trevor in a surprised but impressed manner. The way you look at someone when they pull off a feat you didn’t expect them to accomplish.

  “Look at how nice you are living up here, Sirus. Done real well for yourself, haven’t you?” Trevor winked at him. “Tell me though, how much does it cost to kill most of the human race? Must be a good gig. Bet you didn’t lose anyone all those years ago. Your children, wife, friends—they are all alive, I’m sure. Maybe living here in some secret area, I bet. Laughing at us the whole time, huh? Is that how it is?” Trevor laughed again while looking around the office.

  “Look at all the nice shit you got in here. Only color I’ve seen in this building. How’s that? We get hospital hallways and some weird post-apocalyptic pods, and here you are, living like Scrooge McDuck. How much did that big grandfather clock run ya? I’m guessing free, swiped it from some dead guy’s house. A bunch of crooks, all of ya.” Trevor stuck his nose up at Sirus. “Tell the truth. You guys created this pandemic to control the population. I know you did. Look at how you monitor the reproduction of women here, how you have your hands in every little thing we do.”

  Sirus’s eyes gleamed. He looked far too amused for Trevor’s liking. “I think that is so interesting, Mr. Cox. I’ve always thought you were an interesting man. I’ve been watching you for some time now. I watch everyone—it’s my job—but you more than the others. You have some grandiose ideas about the Palace Program, and you seem to believe that for some reason, we created all of this…to lower the population? That’s silly of course; there was enough room on the planet for five to six times the amount of people than there were at the time of the sickness.” Sirus rose from his chair, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jacket and walking over to the window. He opened it, allowing a small amount of light to shine in. The day was dreary and rainy.

  “The hell you watching me for?”

  Sirus tapped his finger on the window and exhaled deeply. “I just think you are interesting, is all. Like now for example. Most Palace members who are brought to my office are nervous, and they allow me to lead the conversation. Look at you though, sticking it to the man with that good ol’ Kentucky accent of yours.” He chuckled as he turned away from the window and looked at Trevor again.

  Trevor stared at him inquisitively, caught off guard. “Don’t mess around with me,” Trevor stated. “You know that I’m right about what I’m saying to you. My wife and I want to leave this place. I don’t care if it’s not safe out there, I know it’s not safe in here. We are never getting into the Greater Understanding Program, so we would like to opt out of the Palace Program as well.”

  “You and your wife, huh?” Sirus raised his eyebrows. “I hear what you are saying, and of course we will allow you to leave if that’s what you wish. You do know that once you go outside of the hundred-yard radius, that we can’t help you again?” Sirus walked over to a box sitting on a small table near the grandfather clock in the darkened area of the office.

  “Lived through it once, we can live through it again. Besides, at this age, you tend to not give a flying hell. Don’t got much longer anyway. If we are to go, I’d rather it be on our own terms,” Trevor said.

  Sirus opened the box and pulled out a cigar. He lifted it to his nose and inhaled the smell. Clicking the box closed, he asked, “You smoke, Mr. Cox? I mean, did you smoke before…you know.”

  “I did. That was a long time ago though. If you are offering, I’ll pass.”

  Sirus pulled a lighter from his back pocket and lit the cigar, puffing on it continuously. The smoke added a haze to the room. “I wasn’t offering a cigar, Mr. Cox, that’s not allowed here.” He took another puff and walked back into the lighted area of the room, leaning against the desk.

  “I’m asking for a reason. In the Old World, you did smoke. Why though? What did it do for you?” Sirus asked as he flicked ash into the tray on his side of the desk, curiosity glowing in his eyes.

/>   “Because I wanted to. Ya see, back in those days, we did things because we wanted to, not because we were strongly suggested to. I mean, that’s what you guys do here, right? Suggest things? And we can either do as you say or risk punishment—or banishment, which is as good as death. That’s what you would have us believe.” Trevor looked up at Sirus with a sneer. His disgust for the program director felt thick and tangible.

  “Because you wanted too, huh? Quite the rebel you are, Mr. Cox. I like it. I’m glad you answered honestly. Though I knew you would. And you make my point for me. All too often in the Old World, we all did things only because we wanted to. In fact, the majority of the things that took up our lives brought no real value to them. This place should have been a great tool to teach you to think deeper into things. I know it’s helped for me. I was flawed too, like you and everyone else in the Old World. Not because I was inherently bad, but because that was the society in which we were born.

  “Granted, this program was not meant to go on as long as it has, but the positives of that meant that you would have extensive time to self-assess and become better at this faulty decision-making from the Old World. But look at you, Mr. Cox, ready to throw your life away. Over what? Conspiracy and a shitty day?” Sirus took a long puff of the cigar, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of Trevor. “You will have no part of reasoning though, will you?”

  Trevor stood from his seat and got face to face with Sirus. “I can’t be controlled. My life is my own, I’m a free man. You and no one else get to decide what’s a good or bad decision for me and my wife.” Trevor looked Sirus up and down. “The way I see it, we all have a life to live, for better or worse. Allow me to live mine the way I want to. Doesn’t have to make sense to you.”

  Sirus put both hands in the air, as if he were being robbed, and backed away from the desk. His eyes were wide, and there was a smirk on his face. “Tough guy over here. I’m sorry if I offended, that was not my intention. I’m just asking a question. Sometimes I forget that most are a lot more emotionally sensitive than I. I just find it odd that you would be willing to put your wife in jeopardy to prove a point to the Order. And I’m still confused on exactly what that point would be, but sometimes you just gotta rebel, so there is that. Old dogs aren’t good at learning new tricks though. That’s how that saying goes, right? Or something similar.”

  Trevor sat back down and shrugged his shoulders with a defiant smile on his face.

  “I can only be me, Mr. Program Director, sir.”

  “Touché, touché. I think I’ll grant your wish. No point in having you here if you don’t want to be here, right? This is and always has been an at-will program.” A quick smile appeared on Sirus’s face and retreated as fast as it came. He put the cigar out in the tray and sat down in his own chair, grabbing a folder in front of him. Sirus opened the folder, read a few lines, then stuck it back into the pile. Trevor rose to his feet.

  Sirus put his hand up, motioning for him to wait. “One last question before you go though. This has been itching at me for quite some time, and I’ll have you answer before you leave.”

  “Go on.” Trevor put both hands on the desk and leaned toward Sirus, staring directly into those icy blue eyes.

  “I’ve watched you through this window for twenty years now, Trevor, and I’ve witnessed plenty of odd behavior during that time. You taking flowers to random women in the garden, talking to yourself, pretending to hold someone’s hand…Have the mental evaluations and counseling not served you at all, sir?” Sirus spoke gently, sounding as if he actually cared.

  Trevor squinted his eyes at the strange man. “What do you mean? I don’t do nothing like that. My wife is out there, I’d lose an eye if I gave flowers to another woman. And I don’t talk to myself, so I don’t know who you been stalking through that window of yours, but you got the wrong guy.” He nodded his head in the direction of the wide window behind Sirus.

  “Just think for a minute, Trevor. Why did you even go to that room to scream at the teacher and everyone in class? What drove you to alert everyone about the Palace and our ‘evil ways’?” Sirus made air quotes with his fingers. “You were screaming about something awfully loud. Try to think about what that was, Trevor. It’s important.”

  Trevor blinked at the man before him and felt his face fall. He suddenly felt every bit his age. As he tried to remember what led up to his outburst, he became suddenly confused. Feeling so lost frightened him, and his heart raced. He stood straight up and put both hands on his head, turning in a full circle as he looked around the room.

  “I uhh, I was mad about something coming on the TV. Something about my wife getting hurt or…” Trevor tapped on the desk with his index finger, trying to remember those lost moments. He shook his head hard from left to right.

  “Calm down, calm down, Mr. Cox. Now, if something happened to your wife, how would she be able to leave with you? You were saying she was dead. Isn’t that right? You always say that about her, usually only in counseling sessions. But lately, you seem to be getting worse.”

  Trevor thought that maybe Sirus was trying to trick him or play some kind of game. Maybe to keep him in the Palace. That was it. The director was trying to trip him up.

  “No, no…I remember now,” he lied as he pointed at Sirus and wagged his finger at him. “I got angry because something came on the TV saying the Order was trying to kill everyone, something about you all working with Iraq. Yeah…that’s what it was about. I remember now. That’s why I got all upset. Don’t bring my lovely wife into this, trying to get me off my game. You done already said we can leave. Be a man of your word, Sirus, don’t play ga—”

  “Mr. Cox!” Sirus screamed at him from across the table but remained seated. “Amy died in that house with your children twenty years ago! She is not here now, and she never has been. You know that already. We have been over this many times. Why do you insist on doing this?”

  Trevor shook his head, refusing to give in.

  “From everything we have learned about you, we can surmise that you are not clinically insane. We know this. So please, stop this now, and explain to me why you pretend that she is alive, then create situations in which she dies, then recreate her all over again? Why replay this pattern over and over?”

  Trevor dropped his hand to the side and took two steps back. “My wife isn’t dead. Don’t you say that. The kids died, not Amy. She’s here with me…yeah, she is here with me, and she always has been. I don’t want to hear anything else about it. Just let us go where we gotta go. We have been waiting for this moment for twenty years—don’t you back out on your word.” Trevor began to tear up, his voice breaking over the words.

  “But Mr. Co—”

  “Shut up! Right damn NOW! I don’t want to hear another word about it! Just let me go. Please…just let us go.” Trevor wiped tears from his eyes, then he straightened up and stared at Sirus, pleading with his eyes. He was done talking, he was done with everything. “Well, you gonna let us go? Me and Amy? We can go?”

  Sirus stared down at his desk and seemed to be thinking it over, shuffling the folder in his hands. He looked up and regarded Trevor with a soft smile.

  “Teacher Simon is outside the door there with your things. He will prepare you both with protective suits. The Greater Understanding Program is in your future. While I do not agree with much that you have to say, I do recognize the leadership and free-thinking qualities that you possess. Furthermore, there isn’t much more you could offer for the Palace Program. The only purpose you would serve in staying with us here would be distracting others and fearmongering. I’m certain that once you see the world outside of this place that we built for you, you will see the fault in your thinking. The work in the field is hard, even for a young man. You have all the answers though, so I wish you the best of luck.” Sirus nodded his head in the direction of the door. “Get going, Trevor Cox. I do wish you could have stayed with us longer. The Order, and the Palace Program, does appreciate what you
have contributed. I hope the Greater Understanding Program is to your liking.”

  Trevor turned to face the door, then stopped and looked back. “So, Amy and I are in the Greater Understanding Program? No bullshit? We can just leave now?”

  Despite Sirus’s smile, the expression on his face looked almost painful. “Yes, you and Amy can go.”

  “What if we don’t want in the program? What if we just want to be free and go?”

  “If that’s what you choose once you are on the outside, then that’s an option. I can assure you that you will not choose that option though. I’ve been out there plenty of times and…its bad. But again, the choice is yours. The first step begins with Teacher Simon outside the door there. But something tells me you know what you are getting yourself into.”

  “I do, and I couldn’t be happier.” Trevor waved without meeting Sirus’s eyes and exited the office.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Dwight

  The white comforter was beginning to have a vile smell independent of the body underneath it. Dwight lifted and fluffed the thick material in the air, the same way you would over your bed when it was time to make it up for the day. The comforter fell over Michelle’s body. This was the third time he’d been back to her pod to do things that would be frowned upon in the Palace. Things he had only dreamed of doing.

  Dwight looked at the lump of the person beneath the cover. He couldn’t believe he had three whole days to explore every wild thought to ever pop into his terrible mind. It was coming to an end now, and the thought of that made him feel miserably sad inside. Based on the decomposition, he knew he only had one more day at the most to spend time with her.

  He stepped over Michelle and turned on the shower. Then he undressed, laying his clothes on the toilet seat. He caught a glimpse at himself in the mirror and stopped. Dwight never looked at himself in the mirror. In every counseling session he’d had here, he was told that he had a mental break when he climbed through his parents’ window and witnessed their bodies splayed across the bed, covered in vomit.