Uprising

by Justin Kemppainen

  ******

  Michaels respect and regard for Claudia had done naught but increase as he spent the rest of the afternoon running the work in her department. As it stood, he had to coordinate the creation and assembly of all of the parts to the dispersal device. It wasn't overly difficult; the job entailed primarily overseeing the process that his predecessor had started. Most of what he did involved paying attention from time to time and answering questions when necessary.

  Then again, this was mixed with the more secretive process of refining the formula and creating the agent intended for placement in the device. Following her work and completely alone, he synthesized the materials and observed the delivery into the dispersal devices, holding his breath and sweating. Being so close to the devastating agent made him more than a little edgy.

  Several hours passed in this process, and he had made the decision to allow the staff to leave for the night. They still had time to finish, and already a dozen of the cylinders lined the back of the large building with many more close to finished. By his estimation, the dispersal of the agent would take several days to reach its maximum saturation. Even though he copied her structure precisely, he noticed that the agent's theorized density was higher than he expected. It's on purpose, he thought, she won't risk it rising to the surface. It lowered the estimated kill percentage, but Michaels believed it to be the intelligent decision. It will still do plenty, he thought.

  He admired the elegant design of her system as much as she disgusted herself for creating it. The only real danger, in spite of her protests, was a misfiring of the mechanism before it could be delivered.

  He was still nervous as he continued visualizing the horrific death that would await anyone exposed to it, but he tried to keep his apprehension, and trembling hands, to a minimum while he worked.

  Michaels left the laboratory with a feeling of satisfaction. During the time he worked, he occasionally thought about Claudia, wondering if he'd get to see her again, and further wondering why he kept thinking about her. Walking down the hallway he touched the spot on his cheek where she kissed him, and the same tiny smile crossed his lips.

  He reached the hallway near the main lobby area, hearing shouting.

  "All right, now you listen! You have about ten seconds to open that goddamn door before I use your head to break it down. Do you understand me?!" The normally cheerful voice of Dunlevy filled the chamber with roaring fury, penetrating the door that Michaels approached.

  He ran the last few steps and burst through, seeing the large sociology head leaning over the circular desk with anger and menace directed at a clearly frightened male receptionist.

  "I'm sorry sir," the man said, shrinking in his chair, "I was given specific instructions not to allow anyone without proper authorization to enter." His eyes kept flitting back and forth between the angry man and the door that led into the Natural Philosophy wing.

  "I'm the senior member of the sociological department, and I'm on the goddamn advisory council!" Dunlevy bellowed, hands slamming on the marble top.

  The timid man shook his head back and forth. "No, no, I'm sorry. That's not good enough." He swallowed hard. "I have very clear orders from the High Inquisitor himself-"

  Dunlevy slammed his fists on the table. "That little vermin has no authority over anything I do. Open the door!"

  Michaels watched the exchange with mixed amusement and concern. Before Dunlevy could seize and throttle the poor man, he stepped forward. "Is there anything I can do to help you, Citizen Dunlevy?"

  Dunlevy whirled around, not even noticing the lack of first-name. "Gregory, my friend! It's good to see you!" He returned his glare to the receptionist. "Tell this little prick to open the door."

  Michaels flashed his ID to the nervous-looking man. "Do as he says."

  "But, Citizen Michaels, I'm not supposed to-"

  Michaels twisted his face into an angry scowl. "Don't try and tell me that I, the head of that very department," he pointed towards the door in question, "am not authorized to enter it."

  The man's chin quivered at the imposing angry figures of two men glaring at him menacingly. "But I can't-"

  Michaels stood straight up and stared down at the man. "If you tell me once more that you can't, I will see that you end up shoveling shit for the rest of your natural life." He leaned forward. "I won't ask again. Open the door."

  The man swallowed hard again, looking very much like he wanted to cry. Michaels heard a faint buzz. He turned back towards the receptionist and put on a sinister smile. "Thank you."

  Michaels and Dunlevy moved together through the door, leaving the man behind without so much as a glance backward to see him collapse into his chair and try to start breathing again.

  Michaels kept on Dunlevy's heels; the rotund man moved with intensity and purpose. He'd half-expected Dunlevy to raise an eyebrow and crack some joke about the 'shoveling shit' he'd pulled out of nowhere for the desk worker, but the man was clearly focused on something else entirely.

  "What's going on," Michaels finally asked.

  Dunlevy stopped and spun around. "What? You don't know?"

  "About what?" Michaels responded. "I've been stuck doing work all-"

  "It's about Claudia; you didn't hear?"

  Michaels frowned. "Yes… she resigned. Citizen One put me in charge of her project. I actually saw her earlier today; she told me the whole thing was very amiable."

  Dunlevy shook his head forcefully. "You don't know."

  "Know what?" Michaels asked, exasperated.

  "Come with me."

  Dunlevy took off down the hallway again with Michaels following, slightly more confused. The pair passed by Michaels office, and the strange desktop appearance on the terminal screen sparked in his mind. He remembered that at some point he needed to check out that other entry.

  Michaels opened his mouth to ask where they were going, but the question died on his lips. They rounded the corner to see the far end of the hallway. The entrance to his laboratory was lined with Inquisitors. He stopped, wondering why they were there and what it had to do with Claudia. Light apprehension tugged at the corners of his mind.

  Dunlevy didn't miss a beat as he moved down the hallway. Two of the Inquisitors on the end stepped away from the wall, blocking the large man's path. Michaels moved up behind as Dunlevy stepped right up to the pair and snarled. "Where is she?"

  Neither man, nor any of the other Inquisitors in the hallway gave any notice to the question. The man on the right said, "You are not authorized to be here. Leave immediate-"

  "Tell me where she is, or shut your thrice-damned mouth."

  The Inquisitor who spoke didn't react to the rebuke. He said again, "Leave immediately; this is a restricted area."

  "Listen, you little-"

  Dunlevy's threat was cut off as the double doors to the laboratory swung open and a gurney wheeled out with a woman laying on it. Michaels took in a sharp breath and his midsection clenched as he noticed that the unmoving form was Claudia.

  The woman didn't appear to be unconscious, but Michaels would rather it had been that way. She was slack-jawed with a vacant stare, her face pale and her breathing shallow. Michaels recognized the standard subject aftermath of his mind-softening conditioning.

  'My God…" he whispered.

  Dunlevy was less subtle "Claudia!" The two Inquisitors stepped aside as the gurney wheeled up to them, and he shoved the white-coated man pushing it out of the way. He grabbed Claudia by the shoulders and lifted her.

  Her head lolled backwards, as though she couldn't muster the strength to hold it up or didn't have wits enough to try. A thin trail of drool seeped from the corner of her mouth.

  Michaels grit his teeth as Dunlevy shook the vacant woman, crying, "Claudia, wake up! Claudia!"

  Two Inquisitors stepped forward and seized Dunlevy by the arms, pulling him away from the gurney. The white-coated man stepped back forward and continued wheeling it out. Dunlevy struggled against the men, shouting, "Le
t me go! Claudia!"

  Michaels watched with increasing sorrow and loathing as the gurney turned the corner and the effectively dead woman he had seen only hours before moved out of sight. The two Inquisitors released their grip, and Dunlevy jerked away, straightening his clothing.

  The double doors swung open again, and all of the Inquisitors jumped to attention as the short, hunched, careworn form of Julian Wresh came into the hallway.

  "Wresh!" Dunlevy bellowed, a deafening echo filling the hallway. "What have you done-"

  Wresh's deeply lined face stared up at Dunlevy's in a sneer. "It is an internal security matter that is none of your concern." He swept a glare at the rest of the Inquisitors standing at attention. "Who let these men in here?"

  Dunlevy clenched his fists and snarled, "How could you do that to Claudia, you twisted-"

  Wresh spun towards Dunlevy again and stared at him with a nasty smirk on his face, "I dealt with an insubordinate subject in a way both humane and fitting. State secrets are not allowed to pass into the private sector, especially by one opposed to our way of existence."

  Dunlevy seized the High Inquisitor's shirt collar and lifted him an inch off the ground, bringing their faces inches apart. The other Inquisitors all tensed and made as though to move on Dunlevy, stopped by a hand held up by Wresh.

  "Sadistic, power-hungry..." Dunlevy hissed through clenched teeth, his face lit with livid anger as he rattled off more insults. Michaels wondered how Wresh could keep so calm in the face of that intensity.

  Wresh's smirk faded. "Unhand me, or your fate will be significantly more unfortunate than that of former Citizen Laverock."

  Michaels winced at this and pressed into the wall, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Dunlevy on the other hand tightened his grip and moved his face even closer. "You will pay for this." He released the High Inquisitor with a shove and stepped aside.

  Wresh dusted off his shoulders and eyed Michaels as he stood quietly, as though waiting for some kind of statement from him as well. Michaels said nothing, not even meeting the High Inquisitor's eyes. Wresh, ignoring Dunlevy and his threats, smirked and made a quick hand motion; he and his entourage of Inquisitors marched away.

  Once they were gone, Dunlevy pounded against the wall. "How could he… how could he do that?" he asked, despair flooding into the angry tone. "I've known her for so many years…"

  Michaels didn't say anything.

  "Damn! This place is a maze!" the booming voice of Dennis Myers came, along with the imposing figure, down the hallway. When he arrived, he noticed the somber attitude shared by the two other men. "What happened?"

  Dunlevy, leaning up against the wall with his head against his arm, responded, "She's gone…"

  Myers looked back and forth between the two. "Who's gone? What are you talking about?"

  "Citizen Laverock," Michaels responded in a distant tone.

  Myers raised an eyebrow. "What about her?" He looked at Dunlevy. "I just got your message. Now tell me; what the heck happened?"

  Dunlevy looked up, tears running down his round cheeks and soaking into his beard. "The High Inquisitor deemed Miss Laverock to be a threat to state security. He had her apprehended and brought here several hours ago for conditioning to be prepared for..." he choked up, "re-education. She... she's gone."

  Myers' eyes widened and shock spread across his face. "No, they, he… he wouldn't…"

  Michaels said, in the same passive voice, "He did."

  Dunlevy stared off into space. "That's how easy it is for us to be gotten rid of. Cast aside…"

  Myers looked stricken. "No, that…" He raised his chin. "No. Th-this was her fault. She shouldn't have gone against them."

  Dunlevy shot him a surprised look. "How can you say that? She was only doing what she felt was right!"

  Myers glared and snapped. "And look where it got her! She made her choice, and now she's paid for it!"

  "You cannot possibly condone what they did to her!" Dunlevy roared. "They wiped her away as though she were nothing!"

  Myers set his jaw. "We just have to remain loyal! They won't do anything to us if we do what we're told!"

  "Filthy coward. You're no better than they are!" Dunlevy spat.

  "No, I-I see things for the way they are. I'll… we'll be just fine if we keep quiet and don't question." Myers shook his head, a feeling of clarity settling over him. "Arthur… don't say anything else, or you'll be next." He gave a pleading look. "Don't keep going with this. They'll get someone to replace her, the down below will be dealt with, and… and everything will get back to normal."

  Dunlevy glowered at him. "Stand by them, and you'll burn with the rest."

  Myers was taken aback, "Wh-what?"

  Dunlevy had already turned and stalked off, leaving a wake of threats and unease behind him. Myers looked over at Michaels, who seemed to be paying little attention to any of the conversation. He stared, blankly, off into space. Myers furrowed his brow and slowly walked away.

  Long after they were gone, Michaels remained pressed up against the wall of the hallway, mixed emotions spiraling through him. He stepped forward, the normally guarded door empty. He palmed the panel on the wall. The door clicked and whirred open.

  His old lab remained very much the same as it was before, even still causing the slightest pang of irritation when he walked inside. Vials of various drugs lay scattered about the center rolling tray table, along with the sensory apparatus hung up on a hook.

  Michaels frowned. Not that he was disappointed about it at all, but it still surprised him that he had been so quickly replaced, especially with the lack of incoming prisoners. Either that or Wresh has his own man administering them when I'm not around. He wondered how many people the High Inquisitor had removed in that fashion.

  He felt another wave of sorrow wash over him as Claudia's vacant stare flashed through his memory. He viewed without regret or regard dozens of subjects, very much like her, caring only for the waste of his time and talents. Yet his mind wouldn't let him forget the irritated scowl of the lively, intelligent woman replaced by the eternally empty gaze. There's nothing left, he thought. She might have her memories but none of her spirit.

  Emotion choked him, and he whispered, "How could they…"

  Tears welled up in his eyes, and he wiped them away. He suddenly understood why Dunlevy became so livid, and a hot flare of anger boiled in his own blood. His mind saw Wresh's satisfied smirk, successful at mentally crippling what he called an 'insubordinate subject.'

  He swiped his arm out at the rolling tray table. It flew sideways and clattered loudly on the floor. Glass vials flew in every direction and shattered on the floor, cascading glass and miscellaneous fluids all over the white tiles. He walked over and threw the doors open with a loud bang. He fumed, sadness and anger clouding his mind and causing him to fight back tears every few seconds.

  He found himself, a few minutes later, sitting in his office in his leather chair in the dark. Unbidden, images of Claudia continued flitting by. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he no longer made any effort to wipe them away.