She has a knack for being punctual.
Her pistol is drawn as well, but neither of us fires. It is as if we have pained one another far worse than a bullet could ever do.
“I thought you finally came to your senses,” she says. “And then you pull something like this.” Her icy demeanor is betrayed only when she bites her bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood.
I exhale softly, ignoring the pain in my chest. “You were right. I came to my senses. That’s why I’m doing this, Ursula.”
The pistol in her hand trembles. “Did you ever stop to consider what we could have had? You had the Sovereign in the palm of your hand tonight, Franklin. All you had to do was close your fist.”
My face heats furiously. “You really believe the Chancellor isn’t aware you’re a threat to him? He won’t rest until he finds a way to bury us. You’re a fool to think otherwise.”
“The Chancellor is dead, Franklin!” Ursula’s eyes blaze. “Did you think I haven’t made my own plans while you were off toiling in the factories? His transport exploded shortly after the ball tonight. Who do you think they will elect next?”
I laugh. “And so one dictator replaces another. You don’t understand a thing, Ursula. You never did. You only see the power, never the people.”
“What do you know about the people, Franklin?” Ursula’s lips stand out like fresh blood against her pale face. “You are cut from the same cloth as the rest of us, your hands as dirty as anyone else’s.”
“People change.” I lower my pistol, knowing I will never hurt her. I can only try to make her understand.
“I can hear it sometimes. The groan of the city as it crumbles. We enslaved a populace and called it social restructuring. They gave us the power, but we betrayed their trust. When leaders sacrifice trust for power, there is only one thing the people can do. Resist.”
“Your resistance is over.” Ursula shakes her head. “You’re all that’s left of their leadership, and your grand scheme is in ruins.”
I shrug. “Once the bombs go off, nothing else will matter.”
It is Ursula’s turn to smile. “Do you think we’re fools, Franklin? We found the frequency for the remote detonation and severed it. The only reason we stopped the train was so it wouldn’t explode on impact when it hit the gates. There will be no fireworks to mark your funeral. No grand finale to your martyrdom.”
I gaze at her for a moment before playing my final hand.
“I’m not talking about the explosives on the train, Ursula.”
A sound like distant thunder rumbles in the distance. The ground trembles in the wake of the blast as the sky is cast in hellish colors. Outside, the soldiers shout in fear and confusion.
Ursula’s eyes widen in realization as she stares out of the window. I already know what she sees.
I sit in the conductor’s seat, suddenly drained beyond measure. My words spill from my lips like a final exhalation. “We both know this train was always a decoy. A red herring created to draw the eyes of the Coalition to the Industrial Center, instead of deep underneath the City, the true location of the electromagnetic machines. When I brought you on that emergency mission to capture the Coalition’s leadership, my agents broke into your system and found the exact location where the inverted fields trap us in this purgatory and separates us from the real world.”
Ursula’s gloved hand goes to her mouth. “You don’t know what you’ve done. Without those fields…”
“My mission was to draw your attention away from The City, where my agents took advantage of the chaos and quickly overcame the reserve guards. Their mission was simple: to plant the explosives and blow the machines once this train stopped. Without the fields, the Empire will no longer be supplanted from reality. We will reintegrate into the world, free of the shackles of indoctrination.”
Ursula turns to me with raven-black eyes. Her lips compress into a thin red scar on her face. “You have destroyed us with your dreaming, you fool.”
I meet her gaze steadily. “No. I’ve finally decided to wake up.”
Ursula points the pistol at me. “Wake up from this.”
Lightning flashes twice.
Ursula’s face is contaminated by scorn and regret as she exits into the smoke and darkness. I hear the voices yell outside as the soldiers mill about in complete disarray. The train rocks back and forth from the tremors as the Sovereign Empire emerges from the fields that have trapped us for so long.
My blood spatters on the floor of the train.
Theories differ about what will happen once the fields are destroyed. Some say we will emerge from the inversion in the same time and manner that we left. Our lives, our timeline will vanish as though they never occurred.
Others say our emergence will crash upon the current reality like an atomic bomb, destroying whatever stood before being supplanted by our Empire.
Still others say it is only our minds that are trapped. We have been frozen in time, lulled to sleep by the seductive whispers of peace and security. The electromagnetic fields are simply the lies we feed ourselves, veiling us from seeing the corruption and waste we have forged into an Empire.
One thing is certain: things will change. People will be heard. The silence will be shattered, replaced by voices filled with the future. I hear them as flickering light fills my vision. I see them now: the woman with autumn hair and laughing eyes along with the child who shares her features. Jack with his characteristic smile, and so many others who fell in silence.
The rumble of the Sovereign’s collapse is a distant lullaby; the tremors that shatter its foundations lull me to sleep as I smile at the ghosts of the past. They are a dream now, a memory which fades along with the light that surrounds them.
I let the swell of their voices carry me.
Enjoy Silent Empire?
Thanks for checking out this story. I truly hope you enjoyed your time in Diesel City. I’d love to keep writing these novels, but I need just a little help from you. Reviews help a great deal in spreading the word, which in turn helps sell more books. Which in turn allows me to keep writing. It doesn’t have to a long process: a simple 3–4 sentence review works wonders. Thanks again for reading, hope you stick around for the next installment.
All the best,
— BC
Afterword
Let me start off by saying that this is not my story. True, I have written it, put flesh on bones and provided a personal spin, but the story always belonged to Stefan. In one of those life moments that happens sometime, our digital paths crossed via his artistic profile on deviantArt.com, where I admired his dazzling retro-futuristic images. In short time he did the huge favor of providing that same magic to my Troubleshooter novels through his eye-catching cover designs and additional visual flair that gave readers a definitive look and feel to Mick Trubble and New Haven.
But Stefan is more than an artist. He tells stories with illustration similar to the way I do with words. I was struck in particular with a series he had on display called Silent Empire. His images tickled my imagination, full of oppression and propaganda along with the bizarre and surreal depictions of dog-faced men and indoctrinated slaves listlessly performing their menial tasks under the dominion of a tyrannical government.
It was a story just begging to be told.
The result is the novella you just finished. I thank Stefan for the honor of allowing me to provide words for his images and relate a story he had already established through his extraordinary work. If you enjoyed this story, please make sure to check out Stefan’s work, which includes Diesel City, a tome of visual wonder that will only heighten your appreciation and allow you a spectacular visual display of the world I only briefly describe in these pages.