Armageddon's Woman: Chapters 1-6
Nov 28, 2022 0:08:57 GMT -5
Post by Radrook Admin on Nov 28, 2022 0:08:57 GMT -5
Armageddon's Woman: First Six Chapters
By Radrook
Foreword
This end-time alternate history novel is based on the doctrinal belief that the woman described as riding the Wild Beast in the biblical book of Revelation represents the World Empire of false religion and that the Beast she rides represents the satanically-controlled political systems that she indirectly but effectively controls.
That her riding this beast thus represents an unholy alliance
The wild beast’s attack on the Woman is understood as a worldwide political attempt to destroy all organized religion and that such an event is followed by Armageddon and the start of the Millennial rule of Christ.
The Purgers mentioned in the story, are people who have been specifically trained to wipe out all organized religious activity in human society. The two main protagonists in the story are two men, the religionist Zeke Rodriguez, and the atheist in charge of the anti religious Purging campaign in Harrisburg PA, Nathan Stanford. They are described as living during those eventful final days and how their lives becomet intertwined as both are guided by their personl beliefs and their conscience.
The first chapter begins after the effort to stamp out all organized religion is well under way and the first graduates of the Purger Academy in the United States is taking place.
.
Table of contents
Table of contents
1. Purger Graduation and the apparition
2. Trial
3. Nathan Stanford: Purger
4. Zeke Rodriguez-Religionist ?
5. Nathan’s’s Doubts and Mario
6. Nathan and his Wife
7. Nathan and the Shrink
8. Zeke's Last Assembly
9. Zeke's Conversation
10. Wait and Disappointment
11. The Interrogation
12. The Trek and the Truck
13. Stakeout
14. Meeting and Martha
15. Vision and Transformation
16. Awakening
17. Ordeal
18. The Accusation
19. Fear
20. Arrest
21. Dilemma
22. Interrogation
23. Escape
24. Enlightenment
25. The Ride
26. The trial
27. Bravery
28. Planned Execution
29. Temptation
30. Visitors
31. Ultimatum
32. Regret
33. Baptism
34. Scheme’s
35. Trapped
36. Armageddo
Chapter One
Quotation:
No one had expected the sudden demise of religion at the hands of Earth’s governments except those who understood the meaning of biblical prophecy. Most would have laughed in disbelief if the sequence of events leading to it had been suggested. Others would have considered it a misunderstanding of scripture by a misguided few. Still others as just another of the many interpretations they believe the Bible was susceptible to.
After all, empires had rise and fallen and the relationship between religion and the political systems had remained more or less the same with the usual controversies and nothing more. So no one except a few foresaw the events that have befallen us.
Excerpt: New York Times
Jan 4th 2027
Martha Trueblood.
Graduation
A tall slim, white, elderly man in a dark-blue suit slowly made his way to the auditorium’s podium. After a brief apology for his lateness, he placed his notes on the lectern, adjusted the microphone and calmly surveyed the one-thousand strong assemblage of black-leather uniformed Purger Academy Graduates and who sat silently and attentively awaiting his first words. The whole event was being televised worldwide via satellite and cameras had been positioned to capture the event from the best possible angles.
It was the international audience composed of mostly religionists which concerned the United Nations most and for whom the graduation speech had been specially modified.
“I am honored to be among such distinguished company!” the elderly man said.
“The first graduating class of Purgers in the United States is definitely a very momentous occasion!” He paused in order to permit the tumultuous applause to die down.
“A group which is totally dedicated to the higher cause, a better future for all mankind!” Once more he paused for the ovation.
“Unfortunately,” he continued, “our noble motives are still misunderstood and largely misrepresented as an unnecessary reaction to a situation that could have easily been resolved differently. But that definitely isn’t so.”
There was a murmur from the audience in response to the unexpected deviation from the graduation subject-matter. They all knew the story. After all, it was required knowledge fior all those accepted into the academy, So why a detailed repetition? The speaker gave the graduates a stern reprimanding stare. The murmuring stopped and and then he continued.
“Prior to our drastic decision to intervene,” he continued, “history had provided ample evidence of how religious meddling in political affairs often resulted in innumerable bloody wars that might have been resolved otherwise. The so-called Crusades, The Islamic Jihads, The inquisition of Heretics and extermination of Native Americans for their supposed salvation were all fueled by irrational religious fervor. Japan and its divine Emperor for whom millions sacrificed their own lives and which encouraged warfare is a modern example.
All this harmful imbecility had been tolerated for centuries, but there is a limit to patience and as destiny would have it, that limit arrived with the Twin Tower incident!”
The auditorium lights dimmed and the large rectangular screen suspended behind the podium above the stage brightened
“It was the infamous and cowardly September Eleven Twin-Tower Terrorist attack that set everything into motion. Under intense interrogation, the perpetrators proclaimed it as part of the irreligious jihad against the great Satan, the United States and extolled it as a justifiable retribution for aid given to Israel. As you all know a declaration of war against all terrorism and an invasion of Iran and Afghanistan followed in order to bring things under control. .
The screen displayed each momentous event that the speaker was mentioning.
“Of course, both campaigns were expected to level off, but instead, Christians and Muslims went for each other’s throats with unprecedented fervor. Embassies were targeted, neighborhoods became armed camps and places of worship were turned into centers of organized rebellion with full clergy approval.”
Scenes of crowds clashing with riot police and men firing automatic weapons from rooftops and apartment windows and the wounded and dying writhing while crying out and shouting religious slogans appeared on the screen.
“Government efforts failed and the bedlam continued unabated. Limited at first to the Middle East, the religious madness spread to all continents. Everyone marched to the beat of an irrational religious drum. Clergy had become willing pawns in a struggle they considered essential to the survival of their faith. Soon, as you all know, after, the problem was brought before the United Nations Security Council.”
As the events were being graphically displayed on screen. The speaker’s haggard face and apologetic worried eyes reflected the severe emotional strain he had been under.
“Gentlemen, these last few months have been very difficult for all of us! This has definitely not been a labor of love, but there was no other way. Because of their blatant past and present hypocrisy in instigating needless death and suffering, and because we see no reason why we should allow these institutions to continue, it is the recommendation of this international assembly that all organized religion be declared illegal worldwide.
That both its clergy and layman with their extravagant edifices and their constant TV campaigns and radio ministries and printed propaganda be made illegal. All in agreement say aye.”
There was a unanimous "Aye!"
Then the elevated screen went blank and the Academy speaker faced the audience once more.
"Ever since that historic occasion we have made significant strides my friends. Paramilitary agencies commandeered by trained atheists, such as yourselves, have been established throughout the world in all major cities and outlying areas. All religious real estate has been confiscated and nationalized and the profits used to help the poor.
The rectangular screen flickered to life once more revealing black-uniformed men carrying shields and batons stripping gold and silver ornamentations from temples and cathedrals. Sacred statues were being toppled and sledge-hammered into dust or being carried off to be melted. All religious structures were divested of their façade so that they were no longer recognizable as places of worship.
The audience’s uncanny silence made the speaker uneasy, but he managed to hide it.
“Religious buildings are becoming schools, health clinics, and used for subsidized housing. The clergy have resisted, of course." he added smugly as military copters were being shown swerving and hovered over the Vatican grounds like apocalyptic gargantuan dragon flies seeking human prey. with their illuminated bulbous heads full creatures who gleefully dropped tear gas on hastily-constructed barricades. scattering the clergy and their supporters in all directions.
From his sacred balcony from which he had previously addressed thousands, the Pope appeared briefly only to retreat in horror as a hail of rubber bullets ricocheted off a nearby wall. Then the ground troops moved in, and soon the episode was over. Once more the speaker halted the video in order to face the audience and have its full attention:
“The vermin involved were arrested and are presently interned in social rehabilitation centers for their own, how shall we say-edification. A re-socialization that will readjust their flawed thinking so they can return as productive members of society. ” he uttered smugly with a wide smile of deep satisfaction on his ruddy narrow face. Then, as he was about to continue. the auditorium lights suddenly flicked sporadically and then began to dim.
“Liar! A tall white-bearded, bronzed-skinned man wearing what appeared to have been a monk’s white robe said while standing at the center isle in the back of the auditorium. He was holding an open black the leathered covered book in the palm of one glowing hand while he pointed an accusatory glowing finger at the speaker with the other. The two young burly security guards that had been posted at the rear of the auditorium remained weirdly motionless. It was as if they had been transformed into living stone and the speaker struggled to utter words but couldn’t.
Meanwhile the man, or the apparition as some later chose to describe him, had paused until all the graduates' eyes had turn in his direction and were held seemingly spellbound by his presence. Then he continued calmly:
“You blame religion and religionists for Earth’s woes. But you know full-well that atheists and agnostics have proven morally no better. All who are present and of normal intelligence here are fully aware of this. So you are inexcusable.” he said as he walked down the center aisle past the two immobilized guards towards the podium. He was clearly visible now despite the low lighting. Full bearded, the typical idea of how an Old Testament prophet was imagined to have been.
Meanwhile the auditorium continued to darken until he stood out glowing softly in the semi darkness. Then suddenly his voice rang out even louder than before as if assisted by some hidden preternatural amplifier.
“The religious Harlot rides the political beast no longer and her total destruction draws near! Gloat while you can. You will not prevail. You have been weighed in the ballance and have been found wanting. Nineveh repented and was spared. But as for you..."-he pointed a glowing finger at the immobilized speaker,
“for such as you there will be no repentance. The wind you have sown and the whirlwind you shall reap.” Then he sighed deeply lowered his head and vanished.
Gradually the lighting was restored and the sound-system came back to life with whistles and with a squeal. As those present regained their ability to move, a brief silence ensued that was followed by a growing murmur and then a tumult of voices.
The once smug and supremely confident speaker was wiping copious perspiration from his pallid face with a quavering hand and clumsily readjusting the microphone with the unsteady other.
“Now we’ve all heard this a thousand times before, haven’t we?" he tried to joke, but the tremor in his voice indicated a barely controlled panic as terrified graduates were still glancing back nervously as one would at death personified, while others appeared ready to bolt for the exit. One graduate had feinted and was being carried out on a gurney. Another sat convulsively retching in his plush seat.
“The intruder has been apprehended and there will be no further interruptions. I assure you!” the speaker lied in order to appease but to no avail. It was useless to continue. He was told to terminate the ceremonies and on his signal the Alma matter was hastily played, diplomas were hastily and unceremoniously distributed, and the lavish and to be televised live post graduation celebration was hastily canceled.
Meanwhile outside, on the academy grounds, police helicopters were focusing their searchlights all along the asphalt roads and narrow foliage-fringed wooded area walkways. Below them, barks echoed in the darkness and canine noses eagerly tested the cold evening winter air in a vain effort to track the intruder. But he had left no detectable scent. In fact, it was as if he had never actually been there.
Above it all, a dark turbulent cloud fringed by the crimson of sunset seemed to droop earthward like some gargantuan clutching hand. Then thunder boomed, lightning forked and a stiff wind swept drizzle relentlessly against the academy ground trees. Some trees were struck and others were toppled. Some helicopters were losing control and crashing The howling and keening of panicked police dogs only served to add to the mayhem.
Chapter Two
The Inquiry and Trial
Government censors had prevented the television viewers from seeing the Purger Graduation debacle and mention of it among Purgers had been strictly forbidden. But despite the precautions, the details had been leaked to underground religious publications. The culprit, a red curly haired freckled faced young Anglo American disgruntled security guard, had sold the information for a hefty sum after he had been promised anonymity.
Unfortunately for him, the promise of total anonymity wasn’t kept. Someone, perhaps some covert Purger agent, of which there were many at all levels of society, had obviously accused him. He was soon apprehended and after a brief imprisonment, was taken to the Purger Court where his sentence would be pronounced.
There, at the trial, a tall slim, gray-haired man in a black suit solemnly stood before him as a determined executioner testing the sharpness of his ax with the side of his thumb might stand before a prisoner about to be hung.
“Gentlemen he uttered emotionlessly, we have here a man charged with purposeful dissemination of superstitious lies for monetary gain. A man who had been entrusted with a sacred responsibility to maintain security and had taken an oath never to divulge information that might harm our sacred cause. That man sits before you here today and it is he whom we are about to judge. If indeed you are someone other than the person just described, he said to the accused, “then this is the time to make it known!”
The security guard, a young man in his early twenties, remained silent with eyes lowered. There were telltale bruises on his face as if he had been beaten immediately after being discovered and arrested. But the intervening time between capture and trial had allowed most of it to heal. He sat somberly with a downcast gaze at the courtroom floor with handcuffed hands and dressed in the orange attire.
“First, what were your orders in reference to unauthorized intrusions?” the prosecutor said pacing the floor a few feet from where the accused sat.
“Were you not specifically instructed to apprehend and detain anyone attempting to disrupt the graduation ceremony?” he added before the accused could respond.
“Yes sir I was!”
“Is it not a fact, that you did not follow those clear and specific instructions on the aforementioned occasion?”
“Yes sir, I didn’t. But it was because I couldn’t.”
“You couldn’t? He couldn’t he says!” the prosecutor said turning briefly towards those in attendance.
“Well son, your medical record shows absolutely nothing that could have prevented you physically from taking appropriate action. In fact, you were given a bill of good health when you were hired, weren’t you?”
“Yes sir!” the guard responded still with downcast eyes. '
“So please explain to this jury exactly what it is you mean by you couldn’t.”
“That intruder had supernatural powers sir.” he said finally raising his head and meeting the prosecutor's accusatory gaze.
“Supernatural powers?” the prosecutor sneered to show his utter contempt.
“There are far more logical realistic explanations for your behavior.”
“Maybe sir, but those other explanations just don’t wash!”
“Then what explanation washes, as you say?”
“That guy just wasn’t human sir. That’s what washes sir.”
There were gasps, murmurs and a brief flurry suppressed laughter from the jury and others which caused the prosecutor to become even more impatient, He wasn't going to allow the proceedings to become some kind of a comedy routine. It might happen at others trials, in fact he had witnessed it on various occasions, but definitely not on his watch!
“And exactly what do you mean by not human?” he continued, “ An extraterrestrial alien of some kind? Some aberration of nature?”
“No, not exactly sir.”
"Then explain yourself son. Speak freely. You are among friends.”
“Well sir, he appears out of nowhere. Nobody sees him come in and nobody sees him leave. He seemed like some kind of a spirit or angel sir-not an extraterrestrial. You know, because of his message. Who else could do something like that?”
The whispers and murmurs grew louder forcing the interrogator to restore order via a stern look and upheld palm of the hand. The pounding of the judge’s gavel added to the authority, of course. Once things had settled down, the prosecutor continued as he paced the floor back and forth in front of the accused like some predatory feline sizing up his prey before an attack.
“Is that why you didn’t detain him as was your moral duty? Because you considered him divine messenger of sorts?”
“No sir! That was not the reason.”
“Because you were afraid of divine retribution?” he added sarcastically as he feigned to review the incident report.
“Sir, with all due respect, but everyone there, the speaker, the faculty, and the graduates, they were all just as helpless as I was. If I could have moved, I would have, sir.”
“You? Move? Really? Move? Against someone you just admitted that you consider a holy angel?”
“No sir. At first I thought he was just some harmless, homeless, weirdo who had just drifted in and was looking for a handout or was merely curious.”
“So how are we to explain the serious discrepancy between how you perceived this exotic and obviously mentally deranged individual and the way the others did?”
“Discrepancy sir?”“
“Yes, discrepancy. You see, the dean considered him a serious risk as soon as he laid eyes on him. The graduates and the speaker all have testified that he indeed appeared to have been very dangerous. Even the other guard on duty that evening, who recently mysteriously disappeared, and whom you claim was also paralyzed contradicted your evaluation of this person. Doesn’t that strike you as rather unusual son? Do you actually expect us to give more credence to your testimony as opposed to the testimony under oath of loyal Purgers who were present?”
“They are lying sir! They are telling you only what you want to hear.”
“And you are being honest, of course.” he smirked.
“Yes sir!” the accused responded with a steady composure.
“So are we to believe that your idea of an angel is reasonable? Do you really expect us to give credence to this religious drivel? Isn’t it far more likely that your superstitious religious upbringing is forcing you to interpret an otherwise naturally explainable phenomenon as a religious experience?”
“Sorry sir, I am just honestly telling you how it went down. My religious upbringing has absolutely nothing to do with it.”
“Alright son. You might feel entitled to that opinion based on your unfortunate childhood. But you also felt entitled to sell that information to an unscrupulous underground pro-religion tabloid magazine dedicated to restore what we are sworn to eradicate-the abuse of freedon via the propagation of religious propaganda! ”
"Tabloid Magazine?”
“ Are you denying it? We have evidence son. Don’t dig yourself any deeper by denying it or the severity of the sentence can be far greater than it would need to be if you had been forthright.”
“I don’t consider that a tabloid sir--”
“Then what else do you call a magazine that caters to sensationalism at the expense of the state’s sacred truth? Furthermore, you were well aware that the information of the events that transpired that evening had been declared top secret for the sake of societal tranquility. Were you not?”
“Yes sir I was.”
“Then why did you go ahead and reveal it to the enemies of the state?”
The young man remained silent under the withering accusatory stare of the prosecutor, jury and others in attendance.
“Do we need continue?” the prosecutor asked the jury.
Then the members of the jury, all black-unformed Purgers with the Purger silver crescent emblem prominently displayed on each shoulder, secluded themselves very briefly in order provide the illusion of a fair trial via discussing the issue. But they and everyone else knew that the verdict of guilty as charged was far-gone conclusion. Once they had returned to the courtroom a few minutes later, the verdict was formally announced.
“Verdict is reached! the Purger judge said:
“You, young man, by your irresponsible behavior are deemed to be a very serious threat to our new world order. Of course, such threats cannot be tolerated. Otherwise they will fester and spread like a plague that they are. But we don’t give up on our citizens that easily. Especially when the motives are financial. Therefore the state will provide you with an opportunity to make amends. You will spend five years in the Pennsylvania Penal Re-socialization Center where hopefully you will become to appreciate the importance of loyalty and the absurdity of religious your notions. Have you anything further to say?”
The accused remained silent, as if he knew that it was uselss to argue any further. Whereupon the Purger prosecutor blared:
“Good. Get him out of our sight!
Chapter III
Nathan Stanford: Purger
Nathan Stanford, a sixty-three-year-old American of British descent, had been raised as an anti-religionist by Mary and Joseph Stanford who had emigrated to the United states shortly after the Twin Tower attack when Nathan had been a child. Both his parents had wholeheartedly agreed with the UN decision to restrict organized religion.
Not that Nathan cared much about anything as a teen. Dating and hanging out with his school buddies had been uppermost on his mind. Everything else, the word’s political religious turmoils
he had managed to keep at a safe emotional distance.
However, casually or formally pressed for an opinion, he’d always go pro-anti religionist in order to stay on his teacher’s and parents’ good side. Being pro religion could mean lower grades, being placed under strict surveillance and losing popularity with the girls an he certainly didn’t want that.
His parents, both avowed anti-religionists yet understanding the pressures of youth, chose to look the other way. But as he neared full adulthood, it was this persistent uncommitted mentality which had irked his father who viewed life as a Darwinian struggle for survival of the fittest began to consider Nathan’s non-commitment as a serious character flaw that boded badly for his future. Then once Nathan had finished high school, the issue had become a very serious matter of almost daily discussion with his father all ending in the same way, Nathan remaining non-committed and his father marching off in frustration. But the last time had been different although it began with the usual question:
His father had entered Nathan’s bedroom that cold, snowy January morning finding him at his computer playing chess as usual. There was something about the stealthy slow and silent way his father had approached his bedroom door and stood by him silently for a whole minute that just didn’t seem quite right but he ignored it for fear of losing his concentration on the game. His position was solid and any slight error could mean disaster.
“So what do you plan to do with your life now that you have finished high school Nathan? that is besides playing Internet chess on the ICC?” he finally asked as usual. But this time there was an unusual urgency to his father’s tone of voice and an uncharacteristic sadness in his green eyes.
“I’m still thinking about it,” Nathan finally responded after moving a chess piece on the computer screen by using the touch-pad and sitting back waiting for the opponent’s reaction.
“And what is that supposed to mean Nathan?” his father had responded with an unaccustomed gruffness that made Nathan flinch.
“What?”
“What you just said, dammit! Pay attention when I’m speaking to you!” his father suddenly slammed the palm of his hand on his thigh-something he’s never done before.
“It means that I’m thinking about it,” Nathan responded nonchalantly as he moved his king out of checked and onto his second rank.
“That’s no answer.”
“Leave him alone Joseph!” his mother shouted from the small row-house’s kitchen downstairs where she had been noisily preparing breakfast. Nathan’s mouth watered as he suddenly became more aware of the tantalizing aroma of bacon and eggs sizzling on the skillet. He imagined his father would relent and go eat so he could finish his game. After all, it had happened before.
But this time his father seemed relentless, as if on some life or death mission.
“What other answer can I give you?” Nathan pleaded nervously as he eyed the screen and realized his black king seemed caught in a mating net.
“You asked me and I gave you an honest answer.” he whined in a childish voice.
“An answer which as I have told you before is no answer at all.”
“So what do you want me to say?” Nathan pleaded as yet another check forced him to move his king along his second rank.
“What do I want you to say? I want you to say that you have ambition to make something out of yourself and not just hang around here uselessly playing chess. That’s what I want you to say!” The word “uselessly” drilled deeply just as his father had intended it to and Nathan winced.
“What do you want me to do?” he groaned painfully as the opponent’s queen invaded his second rank giving yet another check.
“Listen son,” his father pulled up a chair and sat down as he always did before making some serious suggestion, “they’re asking for Purger volunteers to fill the Purger Academy ranks, you know, the academy that trains Purgers to keep religion in its proper place.” His father groped for the least painful way to reveal the rest which he knew was unpleasant but necessary. Then he continued in a hushed tone while placing a hand on Nathan’s shoulder:
“Next week I’m leaving. Permanently son!”
“Permanently?” Nathan finally managed to wrench his eyes off the computer screen and faced his father who was sitting next to him as if he had the United Nations on his shoulders.
“Yes permanently son. Your mother doesn’t know it yet but I’m planning a divorce. Incompatibility of personalities,” he whispered in response to Nathan’s quizzical expression.
“What I’m getting at is this. I can’t take you with me Nat . You see son, another woman, a much younger woman is involved and things might become tacky.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Nathan said still not understanding the full import of his father’s words. Noticing his utter confusion, his father clarified.
“You see Nathan, this is what I’m trying to say: Once I leave your mother will likely go live with her parents. As you know, they aren’t particularly well-off, especially now when their inflexible superstitious beliefs are interfering with their Social Security allocations. Alimony will cover some of your mom’s expenses, of course, but she’ll be needing time to adjust. You wouldn’t want to live among religionists anyway, right?” he added without making eye contact.
“I see.” Nathan responded. It seemed as if his universe had just somersaulted and tweaked its infinite nose at him for good measure.
“I’ll fill out an electronic application for the Purger job this afternoon.”
“No need son. The application has been already been submitted and approved,” his father whispered. “I submitted it for you three weeks ago as soon as I saw the recruitment ad and before the ranks could be filled. With your strong atheist upbringing you shouldn’t have any trouble,” he added in a voice tinged with barely disguised sadness based on his doubts.
Two more checks and Nathan resigned the chess game realizing that it was forced mate in six. The rest of the conversation had been a formal perfunctory goodbye.
Chapter Four
Carl Malanga
Apart from the physical training, the Purger Academy curriculum had included countless hours of abiogenesis and evolution lectures laced profusely with severe criticisms of religionists and their beliefs. The blame for everything evil in the world, such as wars, mental illness, exploitation of the weak by the strong was always traced to religion. In short, the religious mentality was depicted as the epitome of ignorance, a pernicious delusion that lead only to madness, madness that would lead mankind to destruction if unopposed.
Slowly, as if a stone under a relentless chisel, Nathan had been shaped into the finished product-a Purger par excellence and a credit to the institution from which he had graduated with honors. From a neutral teenager he had been transformed into a young man willing to sacrifice his very life for the anti-religious cause.
Eventually, his fanatical single-mindedness caught the attention of the district administrator-the Grand Madam, as they called her, a ruthlessly shrewd woman more feared than respected, who immediately promoted him to supervisor of purging operations in Pennsylvania. There, from within his spacious third-floor office at the Greco-Roman styled State Capitol Complex, he had systematically and ruthlessly reduced religious resistance to a few fear-scattered, diehard groups operating clandestinely. In response to their tenacity, surveillance and infiltration were intensified. But the strategy had only served to scatter the remaining offenders who became increasing adept at skillfully concealing whom their identity. In fact, one particular group seemed completely impervious to every effort made to wipe out of existence. It had not been that they had managed to survive, it was the seemingly miraculous way that they always seemed to survive that began to irk him. That’s when Nathan first began feeling the fire of his enthusiasm begin to gradually waver followed by bouts of deep depression.
Having Carl Malanga, a recent fanatical Purger recruit as a non-academy graduate purger assistant didn’t help. He’d behaved himself until tenured, but had then started seeking ways of exposing Nathan as a nonconformist. Nathan had tried civility but t no avail. One particular incident stood out very annoyingly in Nathan’s worried mind.
“So what do you plan on doing once all this is over?” Nathan had asked Carl who was sitting at his computer, broad massive back dwarfing the small office chair he sat in.
“What ever is available," Carl had laconically responded after a long silence.
“Maybe a warden at a religionist detention center?” Nathan half-joked.
“That would be nice. What do you think?” Carl answered suspiciously.
"Well, it is in your line of work now isn’t it?”
“Sure, no use letting my skills go to waste. Right boss?”
"Specially when you are so adept at wringing confessions from fanatics!”
Nathan wondered if his point had been taken as intended. Despite his swarthy complexion, Carl’s face reddened visibly. Then, as Nathan had expected, Carl energetically swiveled his chair around to face him.
“Damn right I’m proud of it sir. Are you saying I shouldn’t be?" Carl squinted a suspicious dark-brown eye at him.
“Not at all Carl. Only that some would beg to differ.”
“Ah, you mean the religiously-tolerant wimps who still crave for the good old days eh? Time to give up the ghost. Don’t you think sir?”
“Not at all Carl. I’m referring to the constant complaints about your handling suspects a bit too, how shall we say, too enthusiastically. You know, things such as arms being broken, heads being busted, teeth being extracted. That sort of thing.
“Most of the scum resisted arrest. You know how irrational these religionist people are sir.”
“Is that a fact?” Nathan asked.
“That’s a fact!”
“Unfortunately that’s where you keep overstepping the line.”
“Sounds to me as if you are defending these religious swine, er, sir.”
“We are not a law unto ourselves swine or no swine Carl.”
“Excessive force is a matter of opinion.” Carl grunted.
“That’s very convenient!"
“Not convenient, truth. One man’s push is another man’s shove as they say.”
“Religionists know their rights and our legal limits.”
“They’d better!”
“They’ll use it against us in court. You should know that by now Carl.”
"They’ll lose the case anyway.”
“Maybe so, but we don’t want to give those religious folks the moral high-ground, now do we Carl?”
“They lost that high-ground long go with their hypocrisy.”
“They can easily begin to gradually regain it!” Nathan felt his adrenaline-goaded body tensing as Carl, this recently-arrived upstart subordinate, continued to calmly reject every legitimate objection as irrelevant. Furthermore, it wasn’t just an unconscious innocent quirk of character . Now and then he’d catch a malicious predator-like glance, a barely concealed sadistic smile, indicating malevolent intentions.
“Proving the use of excessive force is one way," Nathan continued while trying to conceal his growing impatience.
“No damage done if they lose the case anyway, eh boss? Judges are on our side. You know that,” Carl responded nonchalantly with triumphant look in his dark eyes.
“But that’s just the point! Our duty is to cooperate with the judges not make their job harder. We don’t need a setback now that our goal of eradicating religious resistance in this area is so close. Now do we Carl?”
Carl’s upper lip had threatened a snarl. Then he blanched and bit his lower lip with his stub-like teeth in response to Nathan’s tonal threat.
“As I said before,” he continued more slowly with quavering, voice, “those people resisted arrest. They deserved exactly what they got. Why are you defending these religious scum?”
“Simple! Injuries sustained while resisting arrest is an old alibi that just doesn’t fly any more in court. That’s all I’m saying Carl,” Nathan responded in feigned patience.
“Well, I’ll take my chances!”
“That’s your privilege. Just don’t take your chances with my hard-earned reputation or you risk dismissal. Is that understood?"
“OK sir.” Carl said after taking in a full load of air into his lungs and releasing it like a locomotive steam engine did just before putting wheels in motion.
“You just make sure you do your job as you’re supposed to and I’ll do mine." Carl Malanga swiveled in his chair to face his computer screen and examining the list of religionist suspects names he’d been gazing at before.
“My job is to make sure that this department function smoothly and within the strict guidelines set by the United Nations." Nathan continued ignoring the disrespectful body-language or effrontery to his authority.
“Sure boss!" Carl shot back sarcastically.
“I Expect all members of my team to comply. It’s my way or the highway. Is that clear?”
“Can’t get any clearer um sir.” Carl replied smugly while pretending to be using the computer keyboard.
“You’d probably throw me in the brig for excessive leniency, wouldn’t you Carl?” Nathan added in an effort to reduce tension after a long antagonistic silence.
“Nahhh. With you I’d make an exception," Carl said after hesitating to answer for a disrespectfully long time. Then, with malicious look he added.
“You, I’d immediately execute!”
“Why's that Carl?”
“Because you’d probably be the main ringleader. Chop off the head and the body goes with it.”
Nathan never managed to get the better of Carl in such verbal exchanges. Perhaps the smug way Carl took things. Or perhaps because of his hulkish appearance accompanied by his predatory facial expression gave him the psychological edge. Little wonder that so many religinists chose to flee whenever he attempted an arrest.
In short, Carl was a loose cannon, and loose cannons always brought trouble in one way or the other. Nathan had seen it before. A few fanatical trainees provoking a government inquiry leading to dismissals. He’d considered a replacement. But with the cuts in pay and diminishing demands, Purger ranks had been thinning and volunteers had become scarce. Furthermore, indoctrination would assure that Carl’s replacement would be his behavioral clone minus the experience. This would add an inconvenience involving training which he preferred to avoid.
Nathan had sent Carl to fetch refreshments and the caustic bantering had resumed as soon as he’d returned.
“Well, here’s the stuff you ordered Mr. religiosity." Carl had uttered after placing the bag of fast- food on Nathan’s desk.
“Remember not to pray before eating sir, you might choke on your sanctimonious amen."
Laughter had become the expected response after such anti-religious jokes and silence considered both rude and incriminating. Nathan had never been able to participate convincingly in the ritual but he tried.
“And watch out you don’t genuflect too vigorously before meals. You might dislocate a limb and be unfit to participate in one of my scheduled purgings." he’d responded.
“You don’t say that with much conviction. Do you sir?” Carl always added no matter how fervid the delivery.
“Do I detect a slippage?”
Infuriated by the badgering, Nathan would either change the subject or totally ignore the asides. Then, after Carl had left for his Midtown home thinking himself the man, Nathan would electronically assign him menial tasks in the office for the next day.
“You know Carl, maybe you would get farther in life if you just eased up a bit. Have more friends. Get rid of that ulcer," he’d say calmly as Carl sat morosely reviewing his day’s assignment and casting murderous looks in his direction.
“As my father always said, a friend is a dollar in your pocket. As for stomach ulcers, they come with the territory.
Then Carl Malanga would lay off the sarcasm for week only to resume it with a vengeance.
But what could be expected? Carl was the inevitable product of a regimented society fostering and encouraging suspicion of religiosity in the service of world security. The creation of a spy mentality as a preventive measure against insubordination. The state above all and all for the state had become the motto . Nathan knew it because as much as he found it increasingly distasteful, he was an essential part of it.
Chapter V
Nathan’s Doubts and Mario
Nathan, the regional Purge administrator, dined regularly at Strawberry Square, a massive office- building connected to the capitol complex by a short street overpass . It was a relatively recent addition to the downtown area with a second-floor cafeteria offering internationally varied food. Nathan had grown particularly fond of meatball submarine sandwiches served at walled recessed stand called Marios.
Unlike other business owners at the Square who seemed unable to relax when Nathan was present, Mario, a short, pot bellied green-aproned middle-aged fellow of Italian descent, always went about his business as usual. Best of all, they shared the same hobby, chess. In fact, they had been regular opponents on the Internet for the last several years but had only met personally when Mario set up shop at the square.
Mario, who had played under the name of Caesar, was totally unaware that Brainiac, the crafty fox-like chess player who would escape seemingly impossible positions with such ease, was actually Nathan the regional Purge administrator who had lunch each day at his place. In contrast, Nathan knew everyone he played over the Internet via club records he had access to as a purger. He knew, for example, that Mario was a self-proclaimed agnostic who had been granted business privileges which were denied religionists. Nathan had never been able to accept all agnostic claims as legitimate, and strongly suspected that many religionists assumed it for social advantage. So it didn’t bother him at all to keep Mario ignorant of his true identity.
Furthermore it provided him with a competitive edge. You see, he’d observe Mario setting up board oppositions and studying his tactics and preparation for adjourned games. Sometimes Mario would catch Nathan observing him intently as he moved the pieces ad ask suspiciously:
“You play chess?”
“ Don't know a pawn from a rook,” Nathan would cunningly respond.
But that said, he was disappointed. The chess-set was nowhere to be seen, and Mario seemed deeply preoccupied with something else. The occasional furrowed brow and the shifting of worried eyes indicated he had something much more important on his mind. Nathan had seen that look before, and it set off an internal purging alarm that wouldn’t cease until he could be sure that his suspicions were wrong.
“So what will it be for today Nat?” Mario asked unaware of the internal turmoil facing him across the counter. Nathan always winced at the familiarity but chose to ignore it.
“Same as usual I guess. A twelve-inch meatball sub, glass of orange juice and fries.”
“Yes sir!”
Mario deftly sliced the Italian thick-crusted bread and ladled the meatballs and thick tomato paste between the halves.
“So how’s business lately?” Nathan asked in a well-practiced casual way.
“Same as usual.”
“Which means?”
“Not bad I suppose.”
“Looks kind of slow to me. Nathan smiled benignly.
“Fluctuates.” Mario shrugged
“To be expected. You know, the season, time of day, weather. That sort of thing. It’ll pick up. Um how’s the Purging going lately?” he calmly added without looking up.
“Slow as usual. Like Adolph said, just a kick of a door and the whole house will come crashing down.” A smile played over Mario's lips and Nathan regretted the quote almost as soon as he said it.
“Would you like pickles with your sub? Mario asked.
"Pickles onions, lettuce tomatoes the works!!" Nathan responded tensely still pondering the smile.
“You seem to have found my Adolph quote amusing judging by the smile. Why is that?”
“No harm meant. Just that, you know, Hitler lost that war.
“So you think the purging will fail?”
Mario blanched, stopped his food preparation and looked up. Nathan noted the now absent smile with an empowered satisfaction.
“Yep. The whole damned religious thing will come crashing down at any moment. Mario said mechanically. Guess you’ll be out of job then. Right?”
Nathan winced at the remark and fleeting smile on the dark pudgy face.
“Will that be all sir??
“Yes" Nathan responded.
“How much will it be?” he flipped through his wallet and produced a ten dollar bill.
“It’s on the house.”
“Why?” Nathan shot back fixing a menacing unwavering stare.
“Just appreciation for the fine work our local Purgers do under your supervision.”
“O really? Are you aware that your offer can be construed as bribery?”
“No harm meant sir. I have nothing to hide.”
“I’m not saying you do Mario. But even if you did, that’s what they all say, isn’t it?
“What’s that sir?”
“You know, that they don’t have anything to hide.”
Mario’s hands were shaking and sweat was serpentining down his supposedly unconcerned cheeks.
“By the way”? Nathan narrowed and shifted his eye suspiciously and gestured towards the pastry displayed under a glass enclosure
“I suggest that you avoid selling fish and cross-patterned pastries. It might be construed as Christian symbolism. Just a tip for being so nice.”
“Yes sir. I appreciate it. But I am familiar with the restrictions.” Mario handed Nathan his change.
“No doubt, Just a friendly reminder.”
“Yes Sir! I do appreciate it.”
“By the way...” Nathan turned back suddenly just as he was starting to leave.
“I see you are seeking part-time help.” He pointed to the help-wanted sign next to the menu on the wall.
“Got any religious applicants yet??
"Only my niece Martha.”
“Is that so?”
“She just moved here from Newark. She won’t cause any trouble.” Mario said in a nervous voice after noticing Nathan’s intense interest and withering predatory stare.
“ Marha is it? How long will she be staying?”
“Only until graduation sir. She’s a good kid.”
“What’s she studying?”“
“Social science sir, nothing religious.” Mario added quickly.
“Good! The fewer the better.”
“Yes sir of course!”
“Good!” Nathan said.
As he walked away, Nathan saw the relief on Mario’s face, as if he had just escaped death personified. Such reactions had once made him feel powerful. Now he began to feel shame mixed with pity. Once a purger succumbed to pity, he was finished, he’d been repeatedly reminded at the academy. Nathan suspected it had been the reduced hands on purging brought about by his supervisory role. Such inactivity had provided him with far too much time to ponder, evaluate and it seemed as if all the academy indoctrination had been slowly ebbing away. Repeatedly he had felt on the verge of panic and decided to share his concerns with his wife.
Nathan's Conversation with his Wife
Chapter Six
Chapter Six
“My own efficiency did me in. Cut my own throat with a flourish didn’t I?” he suddenly had announced at the dinner table that cold snowy winter’s eve.
“I thought efficiency is what purgings all about?” his wife calmly replied.
“It is, but what I’m doing now is mostly paperwork and supervising an
occasional raids and delegating. And you know why? Because I was too efficient.”
“Don’t be silly. she said as she served him dinner. You were just doing your job. What else could you do?
“Been less efficient-that’s what. That way I could have retired in peace and do my thinking after it was all behind me. Now I am plagued by doubts.”
“Doubts?” she began staring at him as if he had been some stranger who had sauntered in.
“Yeah doubts. Maybe because I just have too much time on my hands. You know how government funding has been reduced, Purger headquarters is almost empty, and it’s mostly just me and that Purger recruit Carl Malanga who doesn’t know his left hand from his right and has a tongue like a bull whip.”
“Well, if he’s unqualified why not fire him?” she said as she placed a serving steak and potatoes on his plate.
It isn’t that simple. He has tenure. Anyway, he isn’t the main problem. The main problem are my doubts.”
“What doubts could a great Purger like you have dear?” She said softly as she stood behind him giving him a neck massage.
“Doubts about the whole anti-religionist movement. How about that?” he responded. He had never heard him express himself that way and she looked shocked.
“But why?” she responded with a wide-eyed stare as if it were totally beyond belief.”
Nathan had expected empathy, at least some understanding. But he had been too thorough in seeking a fanatic to marry after graduation and now the anti-religionist fanaticism he had once so much admired in his young bride was biting him on the ass.
“Because some things just don’t add up-that’s why.”
“Well, they sure added up enough to get us a good house in the suburbs and put our son through college, didn’t they?" she responded in an irritated way.
“You’re missing the point as usual.”
“And you are being vague as usual. Spit it out already!”
“OK I’ll spit it out!” he said clashing fork and knife on the plate, hurriedly chewing and swallowing and wiping his mouth with a napkin.
" Are we really right in treating these people this way? I no longer see the moral justification of all this effort against religionists!”
“Well, you saw it before!”
“But this is now isn’t it? And now I have doubts and doubts are starting to interfere with my work.”
“Don’t be silly. What doubts could you possibly have?” She smiled and Nathan tensed even more.
“What doubts? OK let me spell them out for you. Doubts like why isn‘t the world now a better place to live in since religionists have been deprived of a right organize and worship? Doubts like why are the nations still fighting , crime still on the increase, and the Earth still being polluted? Little things like that. Also, what happened to our vaunted democracy? Why is this travesty acceptable now?”
“Strange that you notice those things at this stage of your career hon. Maybe you are just suffering from the “What-now?” syndrome of people who become too successful too soon.”
For the first time since their marriage Nathan actually felt as if he were living with a stranger and that perhaps their marriage had been a mistake. Instead of conversing, she was actually using purging interrogation techniques designed to expose guilt. Nothing unusual. Being much younger than he was she had grown up under a school system that encouraged purging skills. Yet he couldn't seem to stop. Instead he found himself revealing all his inner doubts, as if impelled to do so by some supernatural force.
“How about maybe this is all some practical joke? he heard himself go on. “...and we are all being manipulated puppets. You know Carol, I’ve seen the resignation of Purgers with my same symptoms. Fine men of character brought to their knees by issues of conscience. At that time I felt immune, despised and pitied them. Now it seems it has me by the gonads too.”
“Or maybe you’ll get over it. Take a few weeks off. Go to Miami. Take a vacation.”
“I wouldn't enjoy it Carol. I feel a impending doom. As if a sword is about to descend.”
“You’ve probably he heard too many doomsday sermons on your many surveillance raids. That’s all it is hon.. She sat beside him placing a limp, pale comforting hand on his.
“Believe me. I’ve tried to avoid feeling this way. But it’s no use. I find myself questioning the morality of my profession. Today at the Square with this vendor named Mario I ....”
“Why don’t you see a psychologist?”
“Do you know what that could do to my career if the news gets out?”
“My friend’s husband is a shrink. I can ask her to arrange a session off the records. You know, nothing official.”
“And you trust her?”
“What’s the alternative honey? If you don’t, this can only get worse. We both know that. Do it for me.”
I don’t know....”
“Well, you don’t expect me to continue to put up with your waking sweating and screaming in the middle of the night-do you? That’s what it was all about wasn’t it?”
“Don’t remember. Feels like I’m being hounded. Purged actually in those nightmares. As if I’m one of the religious wretches I’ve been hounding all these years. Horrible feeling. Poor people he added absentmindedly.
“Poor people? The religionists?" she uttered with a wide-eyed incredulity.
“You definitely need help Nathan. Well, it’s really up to you.”
“What is?”
“You know, whether you go see the shrink or start sleeping on the couch.”
After a moment’s consideration, Nathan agreed to go see the shrink.
Chapter Seven
Nathan and the Shrink
John Graham was a tall, pale, lanky, cadaverous psychologist purger reject who had been forced into academics but who still remained a fanatical supporter of the anti-religionist cause. In fact, he delusionally imagined himself indispensable to its success as an undercover religionist detector of sorts. It had started out well enough. But gradually, personal things that his patients divulged seemed to him more and more like religionist conspiracies. Eventually, personal ambition and loyalty to the state won over confidentiality. He began by casually mentioning one patient’s religious worries to a peer and arrest soon began to follow. Once he discovered that loophole, the rest was easy. That he could both purge and psych was the proposal which he offered the Madam who cunningly embraced the idea.
Nathan's case was of particular interest to him since Graham found any display of weakness among high-ranking Purgers unsettling and its admission tantamount to treason. Furthermore, his wife was involved which he bitterly resented since he had to share the credit. But he feigned compliance in order to avoid marital discord. He had cunningly assured her that Nathan would be seen after regular office hours and that matters would be kept confidential. Secretly however, he’d dutifully reported the scheduled visit to to the Madam at district headquarters.
“Mr. Nathan Stanford? he said rising from behind his massive rectangular mahogany desk offering a limp greeting handshake.
“That’s me!" Nathan responded tentatively.
“Please take a seat.”
“Thanks!" Nathan dropped into the deep high-backed plush, brown leather seat which hissed like a poisonous snake in response to his weight. The psychologist was sitting with his back to a wall-to-wall blue tinted sliding glass window overlooking the frozen mist-shrouded Susquehanna River ten stories below.
“Nice view!” Nathan said
“Dr. Graham studiously looked at Nathan over his thick bifocal glasses.
“Well, the rent's as high as the religionist hell!"
“Imagine so.” Nathan responded uneasily since the statement felt like a probe via encouragement to elaborate. Religionists often shuddered or shifted in their seats uncomfortably after mention of hell or hellfire and the doctor had become very keen in detecting such tell-tale signs.
“But what do I know?” the doctor feigned to be examining his notes.
“Government covers all that for you doesn’t it?” and flashed an attempted
benign smile below barely concealed hostile eyes.
“Sure! Just as it covers all other government department costs. Our two operations are incompatible in that way-doc."
“So what seems to be the problem?” the shrink asked with an annoyed concern.
“I’m having anxieties I didn’t have before we” Nathan replied hesitantly as he fidgeted in his seat.
"What sort of anxieties?" Graham asked impatiently.
“Well, it isn’t easy to--”
"I see that you wrote down on the questionnaire that they are job-related.” he blurted out before Nathan could finish his response.
“You got that right.”
"How exactly?"
"How exactly what?" Nathan asked.
“How exactly are they related to your job?” he carefully enunciated each word in order to insinuate comprehension deficiency.
“Listen doc, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Maybe you should just prescribe me some tranquilizer so I can get out of your hair and you can get back to whatever it was you were doing before I came in.
“Sorry but that isn’t the way things are done here Mr. Stanford We need to know what we are treating before we prescribe. So at least give me a general idea. he leaned back in his black leathered seat and casually gazed out at the ice laden River across the street. .
“Well, you see, I used to go about me business mechanically, unemotionally and- -”
“By your business you mean the purgings I assume?”
“What else could I mean?”
“Well, the expression is rather vague. So you do mea your purging responsibilities.
Right! I became addicted to the rush . It was similar to a fix for my otherwise meaningless life”“
“How could the life of a purger ever be meaningless?” the shrink asked suspiciously.
“Care to explain?”
“No I don’t care to explain!: What is this, an interrogation?”
“Alright, then, what do you propose to mean by rush?”“
“What do you mean to say, whenever you say you enjoy your work.”“
"Well, I get satisfaction but I certainly don’t derive a rush. Tell me about this rush.”
“OK let’s just say I get satisfaction.”
“Now that’s understandable." the shrink said gazing distractedly out the window.
Ä satisfaction I once got from my work but now I don’t. That simple enough?” Nathan said raising his voice.
The shrink looked up from his notes and fixed Nathan with a cold stare.
“Now there’s no need to get upset Mr. Stanford. My questions are only meant to provide us with the necessary data so we can properly diagnose your problem and prescribe the appropriate medication.”
"OK, let's dispense with the bull shit and start again." Nathan said impatiently.
Here is the fat and the skinny of it. Try not to rupture several million synapses trying to fathom it. I feel bad after purge. I’m delegating much too often in order to avoid it and--”
“Very interesting!” the shrink displayed a snarl-like grin which he felt passed for a friendly smile.
“Exactly how is it very interesting?”
“Well Mr. Stanford, we never had a Purger with those symptoms before. Especially a high ranking academy graduate as yourself . After all, you are supposed to provide us with a good example.”
Nathan slapped the palm of his hand on one knee, rose to his feet, donned his black leather jacket and stood glaring.
“But its good that at least you admit having a problem and came for help.”
the shrink quickly added.
“Someone else of lesser character might er, have refused. You know, because of the nature of your work and possible repercussions.”
"Are you through?" Nathan asked struggling against the urge to snap his neck like a twig.
This was meant to be a preliminary we can schedule you for let’s see?” Hand over the taped conversation the notes and the videos will you?” Nathan growled
The shrink hesitated for a moment, but then realizing that his life was is serious danger.
"Of course Mr. Stanford. It was only to facilitate treatment."
"This isn’t treatment-this is quackery.
“Suit yourself. I only accepted you as a patient in deference to my wife.”
"And I only came to you in deference to mine Hand over the audio, visuals and the notes!”“
"What visuals and audios?"
The ones that my surveillance detector tells me are are operational right now in this room. Nathan said producing a rectangular gadget from his pocket.
The shrink impassively handed everything over. Then once he was sure Nathan had left the building he dialed on his mobile phone.
"We'll have to keep an eye on this one. He’s a loose cannon.
Chapter 8
Zeke’s Last Assembly
Zeke had accompanied his parents to the last official religious meeting allowed religionists. In his denominations, assemblies were held in what they called assembly halls outside the city limits. This one, a one-storied ranch-like edifice, with an orange brick façade and double slanted roof and auditorium with a one-thousand seating capacity was located just off interstate 90 for easy access. No expenses had been spared. Despite its spaciousness, extra seats had been provided for the occasion. Zeke had accompanied his parents to the last assembly allowed religionists. In their denomination, such assemblies were held in what they called assembly halls usually located
Zeke usually enjoyed attending such gatherings because it gave him an opportunity to check out the babes. Not that the intended to tempt them with some, but who knows, a friendship could lead to mar5iage and he preferred a religious woman with principles than those whom he could never trust. But always the conversation had ended with. Are you baptized?” Lying was useless The were caught blatant deceit ad once the hypocrisy was exposed he’d always be perceived as an agent of Satan. Neither did honesty help. Once he’s reveal himself as a non baptized te once friendly garrulous girls would suddenly become hostile and the conversation would be stifled or unceremoniously terminated. Yet despite the frustration he was always drawn back to such assemblies for reasons he couldn’t quite understand. After all, it wasn’t as he had been planning to become a Christian. Of that he was sure. So what was it?
Perhaps the childlike trusting hope reflected in the Christian faces. Or the mesmerizing was they spoke about a promised paradise earth. Undoubtedly, on some level, he must have been drawn to such things despite the personal sacrifices required to attain them. Or perhaps just the cheerful association of people calling themselves brothers and sisters. Yet today there was a profound difference. Now he sensed a subtle undercurrent of doubt interspersed with fearful eddies of the unknown beneath a superficial flow of enthusiasm. To the uninitiated casual observer or new convert everything might have seemed the same. But Zeke was familiar with such gatherings since childhood and the difference glared at him like a flare in pitch darkness.
He perceived in in the scarcity of spontaneous conversations. and the lack of carefree milling about. Noticed it in the occasional worried looks and unusually brief greetings. Detected it in the way that a mother protectively embraced her restless child.
“Brothers, please be seated!: the speaker said and everyone began taking their seats and quietly waited for the momentous announcement they expected. Some who had awaited all their lives for this day openly wept for joy. Others prayed silently thanking God for granting them the privilege to witness the fulfillment f prophecy that indicated that Armageddon was soon to follow. As they did, the speaker stood silently with the palm of his hand over his heart.
Then he spoke:
"Brothers, as you already know the United Nations has fulfilled the prophecy which the book of Revelation tells us would precede Armageddon." the audience gave the speaker a seemingly endless standing ovation. Expressions of joy were everywhere, Embrace, kisses, shaking of hands, of family members acquaintances and friends. Grudges forever forgotten in the overwhelming euphoria of the moment.
"There is gladness in this of course "the speaker interrupted after glancing at his wristwatch.
Ä gladness that we all justifiably share, . But unfortunately there is sadness. because this will be our last legal assembly before the end comes. There are as yet many questions to be answered and we don't have the specific details. I know. But we have n reason to fear. Fear is for the hopeless and we, God's people, have a glorious future ahead. So our confidence remains firm and will help us to wait patiently until the rest of this prophecy is fulfilled. No, it will not be easy. Our faith will be severely tested during the coming days, or months or years. "There was a murmur in the crowd. "Yes, I know. We all want it to be quick. But that is for God to decide. If indeed it be years, then the final fulfillment will be that much sweeter."
A brief applause and then a worried silence once more ensued.
One thing to keep in mind my brothers, although we are no longer officially recognized we will remain in united in the faith. Each of us knows who our spiritual elders are and these will conti8nue to provide spiritual guidance on requested o an unofficial capacity that does not violate the UN resolution "he added cautiously noting that two trenched coated dark-eye glassed men were standing near the entrance furiously taking notes.
"So we certainly don't need any reminders
Some in the audience unwisely stared back at the two Purgers who who began looking around unceasingly as if expecting a riot.
In any case, all are welcomed here and we pray for those whose hearts are presently misled. That having been said, "he nervously glanced at his wristwatch again. "Our allotted time is up. Let us come to our feet and conclude this last meeting with a song and a prayer.
"No!" a voice rang out in the audience.
"Let's conclude with questions about the authenticity of your alleged claims."A young pastor from a different denomination who considered Zeke's parents religion non-Christian cult stood in the center aisle. Two ushers had rushed to his side and were about to remove him when the speaker stopped them.
"Let's hear what he has to say."
"You call yourselves Christians? "he continued
"Yes that is exactly what we call ourselves."
"Christians cooperate with one another. They don't stand aloof while their fellow Christians do all the fighting for them."
"We have absolutely nothing to fight about!" the speaker responded.
"Then you don't understand Christianity.""
"You fail to understand prophecy" the speaker responded.
"And you fail to understand Christian responsibility!"
"Our responsibilities are to God's Kingdom! "the audience applauded in response only to be interrupted by the pastor's angered rely.
"The kingdom is in our hearts!"
"That's not what Jesus tells us!
"It is what Jesus said!
"But that is not what Jesus meant! He meant that he as king of God's kingdom was in their midst, among them. A study of the original Greek makes that abundantly clear.""
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 13
Stakeout
Nathan sat in the front seat of the surveillance van that Zeke had seen stationed in the ally. After his session with the shrink, he had ordered a stakeout and planned to be present. If indeed he was suffering doubts, then getting personally involved again instead of delegating had to be the cure. Suspicious of everyone and everything Carl, who was in the back of the van with the young Purger in charge of the surveillance equipment, had taken it as an effort to deprive him of the credit and prevent him from getting promotion.
“We could’ve easily handled this ourselves,” he whispered to the young Purger in charge of the surveillance equipment. “But he couldn't stomach it.” Carl added bitterly.
“The son of a has sow has to hog it all for himself like the real bastard he is”
“U huh!” the freckled faced kid said as he absent-mindedly checked and adjusted the surveillance equipment. Carl turned an eyed him suspiciously before returning to his morose ruminations.
Contrary to Carl’s suspicions, Nathan didn’t relish spending time in subzero weather on a Friday night cramped in a van instead of being in bed snuggling warmly with his middle aged but still shapely blond wife. It was simply a matter of sheer psychological necessity. An inconvenient desperate effort to rekindle the fervent and seemingly un-quenchable, anti religious fire that he needed in order-to feel OK with himself once again. The strong sense of mission that he felt was essential to his profession. Furthermore his decision had provoked marital strife.
His wife had given him the are-you-totally-insane look when he had told her.
“Why don’t you delegate as you’re supposed to?” she’d said as he stood by the door about to leave.
“What’s the use of being in charge of you don’t you delegate? Why ruin the weekend like this, You promised--”
“I know how you feel Carol. But you know how it’s been lately. Maybe if I get back to my grass roots I’ll catch fire again and never look back.” Nathan said with a sad expression on his face.
“Freeze to death is far more likely.” she responded like a pouting child.
“Why don’t you just leave that kind of thing to they young-uns.” she used the southern drawl which Nathan found especially seductive and almost irresistible.
“We hardly have time together. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and purred like a kitten in his ear.
“Sorry hon, but I have to work things out in my own head” he used a monotone he usually reserved to give subordinates orders.
“You have to?”
“I'm a Purger dam it. You knew I was a Purger when you married me.”
“When I married you I thought you had common sense. What happened to the psychologist appointments?”
“The guy you recommended is an idiot. Find me a sane psychologist and I’ll go.”
“You think that psychologists come a dime a dozen do you?
“Guys like him usually do.”
“That’s a special favor he was doing us.”
“Sure, just like a tooth ache and putting my head in a guillotine is a favor.”
“Go ahead then. Freeze to death for all I care. She shouted and slammed the door after him.
For a moment he stood staring at the the deserted suburban street snow burdened trees and its amber lights barely casting a glow through the swirling snow. Then, gritting his teeth he had goaded himself into halfhearted action.
The stakeout target was Mario, his Internet Chess opponent. He hated to do it but the fellow had behaved like a clumsy kid fumbling with papers and pencils in front of a teacher when Nathan had mentioned religiosity . That was a strong indicator of guilt regardless of his formal agnosticism claims. Moving in for the kill immediately was tempting, of course. It meant going home to a warm bed and a feisty wife.
But it could reduce the amount of evidence against Mario weakening Nathan’s case in court and leading to a milder sentence. Mild sentences only encouraged further resistance and would detract from his ruthless reputation. He wanted to catch as many religionists as possible and moving in prematurely would also prevent this. So he would just sit tight until a good hefty number had entered the Square, assembled at Mario’s restaurant and then move in.
Furthermore, catching them all would be particularly satisfying since he strongly suspected that this was the group known as the Unpurgeables who had escaped him repeatedly in the past. Three times before they had been discovered during stakeouts and always had managed to escape and scatter to the wind without leaving a trace whenever the purging units had moved in leaving his men baffled and frustrated. Frustrating but challenging. Maybe this was the therapy he needed, a serious test of his purging skills as had been the case when he’d first been promoted to the job.
The glory days, he affectionately called them. He especially enjoyed recalling the ones he referred to as classics. These usually involved Protestant charismatic groups with their tragi-comic fascinating antics. He took great pleasure in waiting until their worship had reached a fever pitch. Once they were all riled up praising their God, he’d give the order, and the trap would be sprung. Everything was video recorded and they all gathered later to joke about how the charismatics had bolted for the nearest exit when they heard the loudspeaker reveal their presence.
Despite claiming to be in trancelike states they would quickly regain their senses and bolt for the exit in a frenzied effort to escape. Bodies would begin piling up at doors tambourine toting women would faint, Bible-toting people would fall and get trampled. But the most pandemonium occurred when they cut the power leaving them in total darkness. That’s when all the feared hell they had been preaching about literally broke lose. Infra red cameras would pick up all the details. sometimes the presiding minister who had been the paragon of pristine purity moments before would begin savagely pummeling and kicking his way through the panicked flock in an effort to escape what they knew was certain imprisonment.
But that wasn’t all, Nathan had other niceties in his arsenal. He would extend the purge by making escape appear possible. An exit left unguarded. A bungled attempt to detain. An allowed escape towards home and apparent safety only to find a Purger waiting for them was particularly entertaining. The film would be taken back to headquarters and viewed at leisure.
“Did you see the expression on that religionist’s face when he saw you sitting on his living room sofa when he came in? I was sure he was about to take a running leap out of the window as that other guy did.”
“Look at that minister go! Sure packs a wicked left hook. See how he hauled back and clobbered that pregnant woman who got between him and the exit?
“How about that sister using her umbrella like a spear? Hate to be the one getting in her way. Prostitutes and alcoholic drinks would be part of the victory celebration as a reward for a good job done.
A hell of a good time by any standard. Those had been the good old days. he thought.
“You OK sir? Anything wrong?” the young Purger they all referred to as the kid in charge of surveillance asked after coming to the front of the van and noticing the distant look in Nathan’s eyes.
“No. Everything is fine. Anything yet?”
“No sir, nothing yet. the kid responded removing one of his gloves and deftly adjusting the volume on the listening apparatus with thumb and index finger.
“But a they say,. the night is young,” he added mischievously.
“These fanatics can be tricky. Nathan responded.
“Unpredictability is what they’re aiming for actually. Makes it hard to pin them down sometimes.” Nathan said tiredly.
“What is it exactly that we are expecting tonight sir?”
The question seemed artificially naïve in view of the kid’s basic training, but Nathan wasn’t as keen on embarrassing others as he had been once.
“The usual, an attempted religion meeting.”
“So you think we have a live one this time?”
“Good chance.” Nathan responded noticing that Carl was just silently listening intently to the conversation without interrupting as he usually did.
“Why is that?” the kid put in.
Another obviously naïve question which gave Nathan cause to pause before responding. Maybe the kid was trying to make small talk. Fill in the boredom with some palavering just to maker time fly. So what the hell!
“You know the procedure son, Mario was reacting too uptight. Usually that means verifiable guilt.
“Well I hope so sir. I’d sure hate to spend the better part of the night sitting here string at screens and listening to electronics for nothing.”
Nathan winced at the comment. No purging attempt should ever be considered a waste. In some way it added to the social hostility and made things difficult for religionists whether they were caught or not. The kid’s comment had forced him into a purging mode against one of his own and Nathan didn’t like it.
“It’s never for nothing” he heard himself say unconvincingly,
“It’s always for a better word. Never forget that.”
“Deep inside he knew that slogans were mere husks. The promised panacea of a vision gone horribly wrong. The increase of urban crime bordered on anarchy, and regional wars over scarce resources, the unabated attack on Earth’s biosphere which had skewed the climate and brought on an ice age had proven that beyond all reasonable doubt.
Slogans which ha once been shouted at top of gullible lungs were now merely platitudes now mouthed by helpless marionettes responding to the whims of state-trained puppeteers.
“Once a Purger always a Purger.” the saying went and yet he wondered.
“With all due respect sir, but religion is virtually dead. Left to itself it would just simply peter out.” the kid interrupted Nathan’s ruminations as if he had been able to read his mind.
“As long as there are diehards left it’s out duty to stamp them out.”“
“What harm can a few religionists do anyway?”
“Reorganize!” Nathan impatiently shot back in a voice that didn’t seem like his own.
The kid’s questions were inappropriate-of course and he would once have considered dismissal immediately. But that had been the old Nathan fresh from the academy. Now he just simply let it pass as all things must eventually pass including himself with all his perceived realities ad profound concerns. Furthermore, what could be expected? Admission to the purging class no longer required an atheist upbringing but merely a formal renunciation of religious affiliation and a declaration of loyalty to the atheist cause. This was followed by a lie detector test as an added precaution against religionist infiltration. But the stop gap measure had proven ineffective.
Wanting their children to get ahead in life, some religionists began preparing them against government policies. Lie detectors could be fooled if training began during early childhood. so one never knew for sure who was who. He’d met professed Purgers of that kind. Sporadically at first and then with increasing frequency as government funding was reduced and jobs that promised a more stable financial future became preferable. Once the infiltrators gained tenure, the charade became transparent when the feigning became more obvious.
A younger Nathan would have raged at the effrontery and gone through the hassle of formal accusation and court proceedings in order to keep his department atheistically pristine. But now he preferred to remain philosophically distant allowing things to take whatever natural course they chose before implementing corrective measures.
“You really believe that sir?” The kid once more interrupted Nathan’s thoughts.
“Believe what?”
“That after decades of suppression they can still reorganize?”
“Of course!”“ Nathan responded with as much conviction as possible despite his doubts.
“After all the restrictions we have implemented? Now that would take a miracle.” the kid countered.
Ï’m not one to believe in miracles but the enemy should never be underestimated,”“
“The question s whether we are overestimating sir,”
“Fanatics can never be overestimated.”
“How so?”
Irrationality gives them superhuman endurance. Nathan shot back. Thinking that the kid was a bit confused he continued.
“Look at the Christians who sang psalms as they were thrown to the lions and were burnt alive at the stake. look at the Japs during the war. We thought it would be a cakewalk but those fanatics made it a four-year struggle. They were even planning to continue after we hit them with the bomb and knew they couldn’t win.”
“So it isn’t miraculous only fanatical? Some say that what happened at your graduation ceremony was miraculous-right?”“
He’d heard the argument from religionists countless times but most Purgers either avoided the subject or discounted it as drivel. Strange that the kid should bring it up in this way.
“Nah just security’s momentary inefficiency. Nothing more.” he said in a less than convincing tone.
“Inefficiency? Those dudes were paralyzed on their feet.