The Apostates (37 page)

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Authors: Lars Teeney

BOOK: The Apostates
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Gertrude thought about her son Jacob. Had he committed murder? And would he be condemned by the Ranger’s investigation? It seemed that he alone would not be punished: the entire group that was involved in the scuffle would likely be put to death. So much suffering and conflict just because of one broken-down ferry. But, even if the ferry had been on time it was still delivering the people to their demise. This was not acceptable to Gertrude. She had made up her mind, she would ask Vanessa about the brewing resistance, and she would assist it in any way she could. Gertrude would have to persuade her husband, though. She surmised her son’s mind was already made up.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

 

That night dinner was served late because of the incident that had taken place between the ditch digging workers and the Rangers. An investigation had been initiated where Rangers and workers had been interviewed. A mess area was set up in the center of the encampment, where laborers had constructed rough picnic tables out of wood from surrounding trees. The beef stew had been served up and the camp-dwellers had queued up and received their food rations, then sat to consume their meager meals. The Greenbaums had gathered at a table. Dinner was usually the first time during the day that family would reunite for a shared meal as breakfast and lunch were shared with the individual’s work detail. The family sat in relative silence consuming their bland beef stew. Finally after much deliberation about whether to confront her son with his involvement in the conflict, she spoke up.

“Jacob, I heard about the incident at your work detail today. People know you were involved. I just have to ask you now, do we have anything to worry about?” Gertrude asked in a quieted manner.

“Mother...I—” Jacob hesitated. He
did not want to incriminate himself in front of his family, but more to the
point, he was afraid that L.O.V.E. was listening.

“Jacob, don’t lie to your mother.” Gertrude
shot him a look.

“Ohmigod! Did my brother just kill
somebody?” Teri chimed in.

“Teri!” Ernest reprimanded her.

“Would you all please be quiet!
You going to get us all killed. It doesn’t matter if I’m involved or not.”
Jacob had lost his patience.

“What do you mean?” Gertrude was confused
and worried.

“I mean it doesn’t matter what their
investigation finds because there is a plan,” Jacob confessed, feeling
like he had already said too much.

“Tell me, son. What do you mean?” Ernest
leaned toward Jacob, pushing his bowl away.

“It’s a group. We’re planning to get the
townspeople out of the camp. You can’t tell anyone, dad!” Jacob grabbed his
dad’s arm to stress the importance of what he was saying.

“Relax, I don’t want to tell L.O.V.E.
anything. Set up a meeting with me and whoever is leading them. I can assist
greatly,” Ernest assured Jacob, laying an arm on his shoulders.

Head Ranger Rick and his entourage ate upon a raised platform overlooking the rows of picnic tables where the families of Ukiah consumed their meal. He looked over the crowd with great suspicion, feeling that a mutiny was imminent. L.O.V.E. officers had a separate cache of provisions: they ate well compared to their prisoners. Ranger Rick had ordered the separate provisions as a precaution agaist poison. He grazed upon a grilled salmon fillet, spiced with rosemary, basil, and garlic, grilled asparagus and mashed potatoes with a smattering of butter. The Rangers all had a ration of ale to go with their meal, which was in stark contrast to the water that the people received.

Around the perimeter of the camp, there were sounds of yelling and a scuffle. The Head Ranger turned his attention in that direction. Several in his retinue jumped up from their seats and readied their weapons. They rushed over to the scene. The crowd of townspeople fell silent as they awaited explanation. After several moments, two Rangers were seen dragging a man by his arms, who resisted intensely. They dragged the man up to the front of the raised platform that the Head Ranger was situated upon. The Rangers cast the man down into the dirt and trained their weapons on him. He was wearing an expensive designer suit that was blue in color. By now it was stained with mud and sweat. The man appeared to have been traveling for some time, as it was apparent that he had not showered. The man winced in pain and looked to be worked up in a fury.

“Head Ranger Sir, we checked this man’s
neural I.D., it looks to be the traitor’s son: Dmitri Zhukov. He was caught on
the road just outside the camp. A Ranger shot out his engine block and he ran
on foot—we caught him,” the Ranger reported to Head Ranger Rick.

“Dmitri Zhukov, eh? What in the Sam Hell
are you doing way out here? No matter. We’ll take him along with us to the
B.A.G. The Church can judge him for the father’s crimes,” Head Ranger Rick
decided.

“F-fuck you,” was all Dmitri could muster
through his pain and anger.

“Yes, fuck me indeed. Townspeople of
Ukiah, who will take this man in and provide shelter for him?” Ranger Rick rose
up and looked about the crowd for volunteers.

“We should take him in. He betrayed the
Church and could prove useful.” Ernest looked at Gertrude and Jacob for agreement.

“Ernest? You’re not even involved in this
resistance. Are you trying to get us killed?” Gertrude questioned his judgment.

“Honey, Jacob already got us involved,
whether we like it or not. We’ve got no choice but to join the side that gives
us a chance.” Ernest’s mind was made up, but he didn’t want to steamroll the
rest of his family.

“That’s a good idea, father. I’m in,”
Jacob concurred.

“Oy Vey. Here we go,” Gertrude complained.

“Head Ranger Rick! My family and I will
provide for the man!” Ernest had stood and announced his intentions to the Rangers.
Ranger Rick gazed upon Ernest and his family, who sat four rows from the
platform.

“Oh? You will take this man in and provide
for him until the B.A.G.?” Head Ranger Rick asked to make sure they were
certain.

“Yes, sir!” Ernest confirmed.

“Very well. Release the man to the care of
this family. Shoot him if he tries to run,” Head Ranger Rick commanded. The
Rangers escorted the man over to the Greenbaum’s table, and forcibly sat him.
They shoved a bowl of the bland stew in front of him.

“Best eat, traitor. This is all we got,” the Ranger warned him. Then, the two Rangers took their leave. The man looked at his stew and decided he would lay into it, as he was famished. Teri Greenbaum stared at the man with girlish eyes. He didn’t fail to take notice and shot her an inviting look. The Greenbaum’s waited for the man to speak, but he said nothing. Finally, Ernest took the initiative.

“Friend, my name is Ernest. This is my
family: my wife, Gertrude, and my son, Jacob. This here is my daughter, Teri.”
Ernest gestured to each. Teri put her hand out and smiled intently. Dmitri took
her hand in a gentle shake.

“The pleasure is mine. Thank you for your
family’s hospitality. I hope to repay it in kind,” Dmitri said with a crooked
smile.

“Tell me, Dmitri, why are you on the run?
What were you doing way out here?” Ernest asked in a hushed tone.

“My whole family has been branded
Apostates. I was heading for the northern border. It was
something my father did. I’m not sure what it was,” Dmitri explained, as he
slurped down some soup.

“Well, rest now my friend. You are in good
hands,” Ernest tried to reassure him.

“How’s that, man? You’re all prisoners in
a concentration camp. Once they get transportation they’ll bring you all to the
Born Again Gathering and sacrifice you to God,” Dmitri mocked him through bites
of stew. Ernest wondered for a split second if he had made a bad decision
taking the man in.

“No, sir. There is a movement. A plan. I
can’t go into it here. But you can help,” Ernest informed him.

“Well, fat chance that’ll work against Rangers, but I guess it’s better than no hope at all,” Dmitri conceded, “So! Where’s the homestead, hosts?” Dmitri asked with a sarcastic tone. Something didn’t sit right with Jacob about this man. But, he could see that the man may be useful as a former Regime insider. The camp had finished up dinner and the townspeople began to vacate the mess area. They headed back to tents to retire for the night, and get ready for the next workday, everyone except for the kitchen detail. Gertrude kissed her husband goodnight, as he would be asleep by the time she’d be done with her shift. She bid her children goodnight and was off toward the A.D.D. for cleanup detail. Ernest, Jacob, and Teri led Dmitri back toward their family tents to get him situated for the night.

⍟ ⍟ ⍟

 

Arch-Deacon von Manstein had finished his
inspection tour of the venues for the B.A.G. on the East Coast. His armored
vehicle was making its way up from the remnants of the state that used to be
Florida. During the effects of Climate Change and sea level rise the lower
altitudes of the state were slowly but surely reclaimed. Only the northern
portion of the state remained, and those lands were absorbed into Georgia long
ago. So, von Manstein’s armored car wound through the sweltering heat and shanty-ridden
landscape of Georgia. The mosquitoes lined up in a queue to meet their end
against the windscreen of the vehicle. Leathery faces stared at the vehicle
from rocking chairs and porches as it passed by on the old highway.

von Manstein finished another dose of a
particular strain of ‘Database’, that of an obscure book about a couple engaged
in sadomasochistic practices. The book had been written during the early part
of the Twenty-first century. von Manstein felt he was relatively easy to please
when deciding to take ‘Database’, but this dose felt especially dry and
soulless. When he came down off the dose he sighed with disappointment. It was
the last of his ‘Base’ until he would get back to the Church headquarters in New Megiddo
City. von Manstein figured that he would occupy himself with official duties.
He poured over requests from Virtuous citizens with pleas for friends and
relatives branded as Apostates be pardoned last minute before the B.A.G. He
found it tiresome and tedious, but also he was feeling particularly generous
that day, so he did approve a majority of the requests.

His work was interrupted by an incoming
hail. von Manstein decided to answer.

“Vice-Deacon Paulus, His blessings upon
you. What can I do for you today?” von Manstein greeted him humbly.

“Arch-Deacon, holiness, Cardinal Zhukov
has been interrogated by Inquisitor Rodrigo. He was given massive doses of tht drug the Inquisitor uses. Sir, his mind has been utterly destroyed! He is
a vegetable!” Vice-Deacon Paulus was fearful that he would be next in the
inquisition.

“Calm down, Vice-Deacon. Anything else?”
von Manstein was annoyed.

“But, sir, L.O.V.E. plans to perform a neural implant extraction! They want access to an encrypted partition—the procedure will kill him!” Paulus was hysterical.

“Get a hold of yourself, man! Look, this
is the price that Apostates pay for defying the Church.” von
Manstein was pleased that suspicion had been shifted to Zhukov.

“Arch-Deacon, sir! Surely you can intervene to save Cardinal Zhukov’s life? There must be something? Talk to his holiness, the Reverend! Plead with Rodrigo!” Vice-Deacon Paulus begged von Manstein. The pitiful pleas resounded in von Manstein’s head, making him cringe with a headache. He mulled the situation over. If Zhukov died that would only postpone his problems until L.O.V.E. got access to the encrypted data within his neural implant. Once they did that the jig would be up. They would learn the truth about whatever he was harboring. What if von Manstein’s ruse actually was the truth of the matter? What if Zhukov really was a mole, and through the will of the Lord, he had been given the truth without knowing it? Surely that would mean von Manstein was favored by the Lord?

“Look, Vice-Deacon, I will request an
audience with the Inquisitor. I will see if I can get L.O.V.E. to spare his
life. Will that suffice?” von Manstein had no intention of doing so.

“Yes, grace! That will be the best course
of action, I think. Thank you!” Vice-Deacon Paulus was gracious for the false
promise.

“Great, Perfect. Okay, Vice-Deacon, I beg your leave. I have matters to tend to. von Manstein, out.” He ended the communiqué. Paulus was complicating matters for von Manstein. He couldn’t intervene on Zhukov’s behalf. Just doing so would attract suspicion from Inquisitor Rodrigo, and that was the last thing von Manstein needed: to be implicated and investigated as an Apostate. He dared not speak to the Inquisitor himself, rather he would contact Kate Schrubb, Minister of State Security to do something to try to intervene.

von Manstein held his head in pain. The conversation with Paulus added to the after-effect of the ‘Database’ that made his head throb. He laid back in his seat and covered his eyes with his forearm, to block light. His mind felt cloudy and he couldn’t think straight. To him, it was a small price to pay for the euphoric feeling and access to vast stores of entertainment that had been lost to New Megiddo. von Manstein tried to nap, but was unsuccessful. He was in a state between sleep and consciousness, for roughly two hours. The restlessness and stress kept his mind from surrendering to sleep. He decided that he could procrastinate no longer and he would contact Kate Schrubb. He sent her a ping. After several attempts, he succeeded in reaching her.

“Arch-Deacon von Manstein. I wasn’t
expecting to hear from you so late. It’s after eleven,” Kate sounded
surprised at his call.

“Minister Schrubb, I apologize for
disturbing you so late, but I have an important matter to discuss with you,”
von Manstein announced.

“Okay, well let’s hear it then,” Kate said
impatiently.

“Minister, I had recently come to you
regarding suspicion that Cardinal Zhukov may be an Apostate mole, and that I
wanted him investigated,” von Manstein explained.

“Yes, that’s right. I had Inquisitor Rodrigo look into it. From what I last heard he had invoked a confession from him, but that the interrogation method left him incapacitated. What of it?” Kate recounted.

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