Chapter 7
I stagger forward as the Dogmen snarl behind me, reaching for their batons. The door leans drunkenly on its broken hinges, exposing the smoggy view of the outdoors. My wife calls out my name. The fear in her voice swells in my head until I feel I will go mad from the agony. I stumble forward out the door.
The area is swamped with flashing lights. Men in black uniforms aim rifles at me as their mouths open to spill out cautionary demands. I ignore them as I search for my wife and son. They are forced to their knees. Our eyes lock, and the fear I see makes me want to howl until my voice shatters.
Something explodes in the back of my head.
When I open my eyes, everything is hazy. I am still clubbed relentlessly by the Dogmen batons. The sound of their blows turning my flesh into pulp is distant, a torture that affects another man, a man I used to be before everything I loved was torn from me with brutal persistence…
WA
KE
UP
A loud tap on the window disrupts the reality I dream to escape from. It takes a moment for my distorted surroundings to coalesce into the artificiality the Sovereign has gone to such pains to present as authentic. I am in one of the sleek transports of the Sovereign, where I have been awaiting the arrival of the Dogmen.
Butcher leers down at me, a smile on his canine face. “Wake up, Cinderella. You’ll be late for the ball.” His laugh is harsh as gravel in a meat grinder.
I open the door and step onto the artificial turf of one of the pristine suburban neighborhoods which grow like lichen to the exoskeleton of The City. I immediately notice a group of citizens dragged roughly from the adjacent house. Lights click on as the neighboring residents emerge from their homes. It is required that any arrest be witnessed by the accused party’s neighbors.
The guilty faction is a group composed of different ages and races, but their faces are united in defiance in the same manner the drones reflect their defeated obedience. It is strange to see the lack of fear of the Dogmen who surround them.
I stand a few paces away and begin my announcement as the residents silently gather around.
“These ‘citizens’ have been found guilty of gathering without a license, a misdemeanor. These ‘citizens’ have also been found guilty of the felony charges of sedition against the Sovereign, intent to carry out terrorist activity, as well as—”
“Traitor!”
The word rings out with unmistakable clarity, slicing through my deliberation like a switch through smoke. My words falter and collapse in the face of such outright insubordination.
The Dogmen growl furiously. Butcher’s bestial eyes flash as he whirls around. “Who said that? Which one of you spineless cowards would dare?”
The crowd around us is a sea of expressionless faces, but their eyes — their eyes shimmer with anger, embers of suppressed fury long buried but never extinguished. The rage continued to smolder deep inside, awaiting only the most convenient outlet to explode outward in an eruption of violence.
“Leave them alone!” another faceless voice shouts from the crowd.
Slaver drips from Butcher’s lips. “So it’s going to be the hard way, is it? Suits me just fine.” His hand slides to the baton at his side. “We’ll see how brave you are when your brains are pouring out of your ears.”
I see the projectile sail across the air. It is just a rock, a large chunk of broken concrete. So ordinary, yet the message it carries shouts with the voices of a thousand swollen throats bellowing with rage.
Butcher feels it in a physical sense when it shatters across his head.
As he stumbles, the crowd surges. People who only days ago would have been cowed into silent submission now voice their frustration with wordless shouts and swinging limbs. The Dogmen are caught in the swell, swinging their batons in astonished fury.
“What the hell has gotten into you people? Get back. Back, I said!”
It is too late for threats to have an effect. The citizens have gone mad, drunk on their newfound courage. As the Dogmen fight for their lives, I am not forgotten. Hands seize me and pull me to the ground. I struggle to free myself as fists pummel me gently.
Gently?
“Listen.” The man pretending to hit me smiles, his face flushed. “It will be soon. The people are ready. The Sovereign is ready to fall.”
I automatically fall into the role of feigning to struggle. “You are…part of the resistance?”
“As you are. There are many of us. More than ever before. You must be ready to move when the order is given.”
“What is my task?”
“Jack will tell you. Your role is the hardest. But all of us must sacrifice for the sake of the truth, and our freedom.”
Gunshots ring out. As bodies topple, the haze of rebelliousness quickly dissipates. People scatter, ducking their heads as the illusion of defiance is replaced by the crushing reality of bloodshed. The man who pulled me down gives me a last quick smile before rising up to flee.
The smile is still on his face when the bullet tears a hole through his chest.
“Are you all right?” Ursula’s pistol is still smoking as she offers me a hand. I accept it numbly, concentrating on not staring at the corpse which only a moment ago had been a comrade. I don’t know the man’s name, but he was my brother. Bound by the same battle against an Empire that oppressed us both.
He is not the only casualty. Other bodies lie on the ground, staining the turf dark with blood. The streets are desolate once more; silent as the death that surrounds us.
“Burn it all.” Butcher literally quivers with rage. “We need to burn this entire neighborhood to the ground. Attacking the agents of the Sovereign? Next they’ll be marching on the City. I’ll raze this whole block. I’ll torch all of them!”
“Start a fire and it spreads.” Jack strides up casually, oozing arrogance in his officer persona. His face is masked in a contemptuous sneer. “Sheep is all they are. They’ll follow whoever feeds them and scatter at the first glimpse of a wolf.”
He glances down at the Dog of War emblazoned on his breast and smiles. “Or a Dog. But if we press too hard then the morale may continue to drop until thoughts of rebellion are all they will have to keep them warm at night. We have what we came for.” He gestures to the captives who the Dogmen barely managed to keep under guard. “Without their shepherds, the sheep will go back to grazing in no time.”
“Agent Kilgore is correct.” Ursula’s chin rises imperiously. “These criminals are the ones who ignited this act of rebellion. And they will pay the price. Process them.”
All it would take is for a single one of the indicted group to expose me with a look, a word, a screaming betrayal. But no one does. They allow themselves to be manhandled into the waiting transports without a glance in my direction.
It seems silence is a weapon for both sides of this war.
Jack’s face is somber as he looks at me. “I know that was hard for you.”
We are in his pristine office after the day’s events. Emily sits nearby at a secretary’s desk. Every item in the room down to the paperweight on the desk is a shout of allegiance to the Sovereign Empire. Jack stands behind his steel-backed chair, the paragon of an oppressive officer. It is only the concern in his eyes that betrays him.
I scrub my fingers through my hair. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Jack’s eyes are intense. “You must.”
“People are dying, Jack. Am I to stand with a mask on my face and pretend I feel nothing?”
Jack smiles. I realize his smile is his lifeline, the most destructive weapon he possesses to defy the Sovereign. “In a war where the truth is concealed, a mask becomes a fair weapon, Franklin. I warned you this would not be easy. Make no mistake: it will get worse from here. The endgame approaches, and in the distance is the sound of revolution. We haven’t gotten this far to quit now. What you and I will have to do will be the most difficult. But the end result will be the collapse of this prison. Are you still committed to that end, Franklin?”