July Writing Challenge: Patriotism

[Admin!]

It's writing challenge time! To enter, just post a ficlet (300-4000 words suggested) in this thread. When the voting for this month's OTM winners comes around, a voting poll will go up for this as well.

The Challenge: Write a story with a theme of patriotism. Keep in mind that there are characters of many different nationalities on the site, and they can interpret it in many ways. Have fun exploring it.

The rules:

• Characters must be in Hammel canon, but the ficlets are not site canon unless expressly stated.
  
• Entries must be more than 300 words.
  
• You can enter no more than three stories. Any ficlets posted after the original 3 will not be considered for voting. If you want to post more, however, have fun.
  
• Ficlets must be titled.

[Phillip Lauer]

Exhibition

In chess, an exhibition is a contest of one or more games played for the purpose of public entertainment.

He was soaking wet, and the shower was cloudy and warm. He didn't want to leave. Not just because it was comfortable, but because it was safe. He wasn't sure he was ready to go out there… It was scaring him to death, and right now the safest place -- actually, it's not when you think about it -- was right there in the shower. But, he had to.

His graduation from Hammel wasn't that long ago, only about a year, and the nineteen year old had to make a living somehow, right? He was getting no where with his graphic skills, and while he was good at school, job offers for anywhere just weren't piling in like he had hoped. So, what was a recent graduate with a high-school education to do?

Phillip sighed, shaking his head, getting the last bit of suds off of him before he turned off the water and stepped outside the shower, the cold air hitting him before he had a chance to dry off. He managed to catch his reflection in the mirror. There was a brief moment of confidence, and it allowed him about five minutes of "HELL YEAH! LET'S DO THIS!! WOOOOOO!!" thoughts. It didn't get him far though. The six-eight teen was dry and lotioned and smelling good, but he wasn't dressed yet. And he had about twenty more minutes before he had to go.

So, the next twenty minutes were spent staring at his reflection, picking out everything wrong and ignoring everything right. Was he really up to it? Seriously, was this the only thing he could do to make money? Of course not, ya idjet, he scolded himself. It started as a joke, but the first time was… interesting. Phillip made sure his underarms were hairless before applying a clear deodorant. He looked over his body as well: hairless. It felt free; he was going to have to remember this feeling for later on in life.

There was a knock on the dressing room door. He had five minutes. Shit, he screamed in his head, and every butterfly possible found their way into his stomach. I can't do this… I can't do this… I can't do this… He looked to the 'clothes' that were left out for him, too. And I can't do this in THAT, he gulped. But there was no time left. He slipped on the outfit and rushed out the room, taking his place.

It didn't take long for him to be called, and he stood behind the curtain, breathing heavy, trying to make sure he didn't puke out the caesar salad he had earlier.

"And now, what you've all been waiting for! He's our new guy and it's his first public performance, so please make him feel welcome. Doing his best to show his pride in the U.S. of A, give a big hoot and holler for THE BLACK CHARIOT!" And the curtains flew open.

He didn't take his first step. He couldn't. But someone behind him told him to 'Get moving!' and he gathered all the strength he could to walk out on stage. A tall, sparkly, red, white, and blue top hat was on his head. A matching bow tie. And a matching thong. That's all he had on. He cracked a smile, and the crowd went wild. It made him feel good, so he tried to get into it some more. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all…

Oh look. A twenty!

What better way to spend the 4th of July?

[Mia Bell]

Be Thankful

Mia sat on a stool back stage of a concert she was invited to sing at. She wasn’t sure how she had even got here to begin with; she had started putting cover videos up on youtube and the next thing she knew she had gotten an email asking her to join in this concert; a concert to thank the army, navy, and marines. The pink haired girl looked around at everyone who had came to play, bands and solo singers alike volunteering their time and soul effort for this concert. Different kinds of music genres coming together for one event, one event to help the with the sorrows, one event to show how much we care, one event to help make others relax and be happy, one event to bring families of all races come together and thank the people who sacrificed their lives for their country. Sacrificing his or her lives almost every day to give everyone else that peace of mind that another country won’t be over taking ours.

This young girl felt like singing wasn’t enough to say thank you. She felt the need to get up and thank every person here individually. This wasn’t about her, this wasn’t about how this would be a good chance to get known for her singing, this wasn’t about the chance to scratch ‘being back stage at a concert’ off her bucket list, this wasn’t about meeting other bands and singers. This wasn’t about HER, IT was about how she can show her thanks to the soldiers who go off to fight for their country and to thank the their love ones for letting them and sacrifices them for everyone else’s sake. This wasn’t the time to think of this selfishly and if anyone was being selfish about this they were no friend of Mia’s.

Mia stood up from the stool, when they called her name to go on. She stood right before the stage and took a deep breath. She was scared half to death, not by the fact of singing on stage but the fact of who was watching her. She walked out onto the stage, grabbed the mic from the stand it was on and walked to the edge of the stage. “How’s everyone doing tonight?!” She heard the screams and smiled as she held the mic toward the crowd to make the noise louder. Once the screaming stopped, she held the mic to her lips “Hey, so I just wanted to say something before I started. “ She took a another deep breath and began her ‘speech’ “I know that this might be obvious for all of you to figure out. But, I am extremely thankful to you guys for giving up your lives for mine and your country’s well being. I can’t stress how much I’m also thankful for your loved ones, to sacrifice you guys to leave them behind so you can make a different, so you can save us, and so you can give us peace in mind that we’re safe for another day.” Tears started to fall down her cheeks as she was in the middle of talking, she sniffled a bit then went back to talking. “There’s no words that can describe how grateful I am to all of you, for everything you done. I know how hard it is to have that pain and fear of losing someone that is close to me. All of you give everyone else hope and everyone looks up to you because of your strength to do what not all of us can do. “

Mia wiped the tears of her cheeks and sniffled a few times as she looked into the crowd as they clapped and screamed and cried. She bowed a bit and then walked backwards as she said, “Alright let’s get this party started!” She looked to the ground as the drummer started and soon enough she was singing on stage to say thank you to everyone in the crowd and to show her gratitude for her country.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The Coast


This is the only life.
And that’s worth something,
When you think about it.

Summer was always a peculiar time in New York City. Schools were out, which emptied hundreds of thousands of college students and children into the streets for months with nothing to occupy them. There were summer camps, and some jobs to be had, but overall, the daytime demographics of the City shifted, while the adults were out working. The heat and humidity were excruciating, which caused fans and air conditioners to run on high and caused rolling brown-outs and black-outs.

The prayers for cooling rain eventually subsided as outdoor activities abounded. Beach days, cultural street festivals, craft fairs, parades...all made it difficult to pray for rain because there was always something to do outside, and the rain would ruin it. Not that it mattered, because the rain never came.

The Gay Pride Parade which had gone on for a bit over a decade; Josh and Sean didn’t go to the parade, but they watched as it reached the village from the roof of the apartment. Cobalt had been invited to watch with them, but he’d shown little interest.

Only a week later and it was July Fourth. Sean’s parents typically hosted a barbecue for the entire neighborhood, and Sean was typically expected to attend. Those expectations had changed a bit with medical school and his responsibilities for Cobalt, but it was a matter that they had to discuss as a family and which he then had to relay back to his parents in a telephone conversation.

While the telepath liked spending time with his parents, and he enjoyed the annual barbecue, this year he wanted to avoid it. He had no desire to put either Josh or Cobalt on the spot by subject them to his family (not only his parents and sister, but his uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents...the whole extended family in the area), as well as neighbors and his parents’ friends and work acquaintances. It was simply too much, given that Cobalt still had problems with strangers, and Sean had no desire to pretend that Josh and he were merely friends. Not bringing Josh wasn’t an option, if they went out to the Island for this party.

He eventually reached a compromise with his parents. Sean would visit that Sunday for supper with his parents and sister; in exchange, he could celebrate the national holiday as he saw fit, with his chosen family in the City. The downside to that plan was that grilling in Manhattan was a pain.

They could try one of the parks, but Central Park and Union Square Park were both in states of disrepair given the urban decay. They could try the pier, but it was crowded and given Cobalt’s discomfort with strangers, it would be both cruel and unwise.

That left grilling illegally in the apartment or slightly less illegally on the roof of the building. Assuming that they finagled permission from the landlord.

After a discussion with the landlord in which Sean promised to set aside a plate for him, they got permission. Getting the grill on top of the roof was more of a pain, but between Sean and Josh, they managed to do the lifting and the installation. After trips to the grocery store, the liquor store, and the bakery, they had enough food for a proper grilling party. Although Josh had gone back down to the apartment to find some additional lighter fluid.

“How can you have a Fourth of July party without a flag?” Cobalt asked, peering around the décor, if one could call it that, on the roof. Aside from the grill, there were lawn chairs, a table for the food, coolers filled with drinks and ice, and the balloon that Josh had bought Cobalt because he was apparently under the impression that Cobalt was five-years-old. There were no other decorations: no American flags, not even an appropriately-colored or patterned tablecloth or napkins.

And while Sean and Josh wore tee shirts and shorts, because it was so hot out, neither of them wore red, white, and blue. Josh wore a tie-dyed shirt and brown shorts, and Sean wore beige khaki shorts and a tee shirt from a concert he’d attended with Greg. Nothing in their attire was even the slightest bit appropriate for the holiday.

At least Cobalt was wearing blue. It seemed appropriate.

“Josh and I don’t believe in nationalism,” the telepath replied, glancing over his shoulder at Cobalt briefly, before he returned his attention to the hotdogs and meat patties on the grill.

“What does that mean?”

“We don’t believe in flag worship.”

“Flag worship?”

“The America: love it or leave it mentality and the concept of American exceptionalism. We think we should be held to the same standards that we hold the rest of the world to. And we don’t like the idea of supporting your country when it’s wrong, just because it’s your country.”

Cobalt scrunched his face up in confusion. “Do a lot of people believe that?” It sounded so ridiculous to him, although he’d been isolated between the orphanage, which believed in their religion without borders, and then Hammel, which had its own agenda. Before moving in with Sean.

“More than there should be.” The telepath shook his head to himself before casting another glance over his shoulder at Cobalt. “But that’s why we don’t have a flag.”

“Then why are you celebrating the holiday?” The teenaged shadow manipulator asked with a creased brow. He could understand not wanting to fall in with that type of over-the-top behavior and beliefs (not that he always understood Sean’s way of thinking, but he at least respected it most of the time). He couldn’t understand why they would celebrate a holiday they didn’t believe in; he didn’t celebrate Jewish holidays or Bastille Day for that reason.

“Because we’re Americans and have as much of a right to do it as anyone else.” The telepath shrugged and then picked up a paper plate, parted a bun with his hand and then flipped a hamburger patty onto it with the spatula. “Toppings are on the table,” Sean added, as he handed the plate back to the teenager.

Cobalt took the plate and walked over to the table, grabbing a piece of lettuce and a couple of slices of tomato and pickles. He looked around for the ketchup and mayonnaise, but found only ketchup. “So you just do it to have a party?”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret; most people celebrate it just to have a party.” Sean’s parents did, even if they also truly believed in the rest of the posturing; the party was the important part.

“What’s this about a party?” Josh asked, as he stepped through the utility door back onto the roof. Crossing to the telepath, he kissed him on the cheek and then handed him the bottle of lighter fluid. “This is all I could find.”

Sean eyed it and then took it in his hand. “That should be more than enough.”

At the same time, Cobalt said, “Sean says people celebrate July Fourth as an excuse to have a party.”

That earned a laugh from Josh. “Well, of course they do! Everything’s an excuse to have a party.” He walked over to the cooler to pull out a can of beer for himself. “Sean? Want one?”

“Sure. Your burger’s almost finished,” Sean told him with a fond smile. The cheese always took a moment longer to cook than a bare meat patty.

Josh reached the cooler and pulled two beer cans out. Then, glancing at Cobalt, he reached for a third. “Want one?”

Cobalt seemed surprised and then looked over at Sean; he was underage, and he didn’t want the telepath or Josh to get in trouble. “Can I?”

“Sure,” the telepath answered with a shrug. They weren’t in public, and there was no way that any of them could put another person in danger, since they weren’t driving. As far as he was concerned, it was no different from letting Cobalt have a glass of wine with supper if he had asked, except they weren’t technically inside their apartment at the moment.

Eagerly, Cobalt took the bottle from Josh, who had popped it open for him. While the shadow manipulator didn’t have much interest in drinking or alcohol or any of the stupid behavior it caused, this was different. Sean and Josh were his role models, or as close to them as he had, and they did it without doing anything stupid. At least not around him.

Besides, they both really seemed to like beer, so it would be interesting to know what they found so interesting about it.

Cobalt brought the bottle to his lips and took a sip. Then he scrunched up his face and spit it out, only barely managing to turn his head away from Josh and the food on the table before doing so. “How can you drink this?!”

It was the nastiest taste he’d ever had in his mouth.

Josh pouted at him, because the beer was his beloved Yuengling. Sean turned around to offer Cobalt a sympathetic smile. “It takes some getting used to. But if you don’t want to finish it, I’ll take it. You go have some lemonade.”

The teenager did as he was instructed, scampering over to the cooler to dig out a bottle of lemonade for himself. “Seriously, how can you drink it?”

“It tastes good!” Josh protested.

“A lot of things are better when you get used to them.” Sean then winked at Cobalt before turning back to the grill to finish with the cheeseburgers and then to get started on the hotdogs.

The shadow manipulator had to admit that much was true.

[Nicholas Kells]

Protect and Serve

The Alaskan wilderness wasn’t exactly on the top of Nick’s list of getaway destinations, but it certainly had its usefulness. For one thing, the barren wilderness was perfect for a man who valued time alone with his thoughts (although in Nick’s case this was usually more for preparation and not reflection).

Staring into the wide, open space, a lesser man may have felt the need to reconsider his place in this world. But Nick had always been certain of his part in all of this, at least after his time overseas that is. Admittedly in the past couple of years he had found renewed motivation, but his course had never wavered. His methods were the same. As was the end goal. There were just a few slight modifications now.

Yes, a lesser man may have paused to ask himself why he was doing this, why he was wrapped up an organization that some outsiders might feel had caused so much pain, but not Nick. He stood firm in his beliefs. He knew exactly why he had immersed himself in the middle of this war.

He was doing this for her.

“Sir,” a voice said, causing him to turn away from his office window. “They’re ready for you.”

“Thank you, Private,” Nick replied, grabbing a folder off of his desk as he rose. “Any more problems with Prisoner 215?” Nick smiled as he caught a flash of surprise on the other man’s face. “I know everything that happens in my prison camp, Private.”

“Of course sir,” the man said, steadying his composure once again as he walked alongside Nick down the hallway “There shouldn’t be any more problems. He knows we’re keeping a…close eye on the psychologist, Mr. Benjamin Rhodes. And Prisoner 136 keeps asking about his husband and son…” The man let his sentence trail off. Nick could tell his was trying to ask a question, but worried about it. Again Nick smiled. It was so nice to be respected and feared.

For a moment he hesitated before answering the unasked question remembering jogging alongside the blond man as he chatted about Rachel. Back then he had been so thankful to find another person in Pilot Ride who he could spend time with. And it had been their love of their children that had first sparked that relationship. But that was before…

“Keep him guessing,” he said, waving the man away with his hand as he approached the meeting room. Although James and Nikki were also at the prison camp, interaction with any of the high risk prisoners was expressly forbidden.

“Yes sir,” the man said, although Nick wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. He took a deep breath before reaching out to turn the door handle. His family ties were always brought up during meetings such as these. And he hated having the same old argument about keeping his business and his personal life separate.

“…the doppelganger, inmate Jaythen McKay has agreed to assist us with out next pick-up. We already have the Goddard boy in custody, but he’s proving to be uncooperative in the plan to bring in the time manipulator. So we’ll try using a double again. McKay’s only concern was that his human sister be given some form of compensation for his work.”

Nick entered the room, taking a chair close to the door as the other men nodded their approval of the General’s update. Although his hands and expression were calm and steady, his eyes held a concentrated anger as they scanned the room’s other occupants. The last meeting like this one had ended in a heated discussion over the treatment of one of the younger prisoners, a discussion Nick did not wish to rehash.

“Mr. Kells,” the General said, gesturing for him to go ahead with his report.

“It works,” Nick said, tossing the folder containing the facts and figured of his report onto the table. “The Neural Inhibitor has already been tested and put into place for the past week. We’re still working on a shield version for out men on the front line. But it’s promising work.’

“And the telepath? The doctor?” one man asked, leaning forward to examine Nick’s report.

“No longer a problem,” Nick continued.

“So he’s agreed to assist? To modify the memories when needed?”

“Not exactly, but he’s much more compliant when striped of his power,” Nick said, unable to keep the smirk from his face.

“We could speed things up,” a man across the table suggested, cracking his knuckles suggestively. A few around the table nodded approval of the idea.

“No,” Nick said, with a little force. He knew that Dr. Neville would not be swayed so easily in that way. Even if his beliefs and morals didn’t run along with Nick, the telepath would still stand by them. And as much as Nick hated to admit it, he sort of respected the freak for that. Although his revulsion far outweighed any positive feelings. “We’ll have to be more creative.”

“We could use McKay again? There must be some the prisoner would wish to see saved from harm?” another man suggested. He grabbed the telepath’s report from the cabinet and began flipping through it in search of known relatives and close friends.

“There is,” Nick continued. “The lawyer. But I strongly suggest that we don’t use a doppelganger in this instance. We kept tabs on Mr. Bernstein after we brought in the last of the Hammel students. He should pose too much of a problem to bring in.”

“It’s settled then,” the General said. “Mr. Kells, you are free to leave unless you have anything else?”

“No sir,” Nick said, rising from his seat.

Once out into the hallway, Nick glanced at his watch. The meeting would probably go on for another half-hour at least. That should give him enough time to get into the high-risk section without too many eyes seeing him go. Although he liked to boast that this was his prison, he still had people to report to. And he didn’t feel like wasting time creating lies to explain himself if he was seen.

It took him five minutes to make his way down. He paused outside cell longer than he would have liked as his emotions took hold of him for a moment. Even though he knew the Neural Inhibitor was in place, he still couldn’t help the prickle of apprehension that traveled up his spine. It didn’t help that he was here to ask a favor, either.

Waving to the on-duty guard to open the door, Nick stepped inside. He almost laughed at the older man as he walked into the cell. A week without his powers and barley any contact with anyone else had him down. Although the ragged expression vanished when the telepath saw who was visiting him, he couldn’t hide the sagging look of his prison uniform or the increased wrinkles in his face. Although it wasn’t extremely heavy or bulky, the device on his head seemed to weigh him down. After looking up to see who had entered he hung his head again with a small sigh, as if the action had taken a lot of strength.

“Mr Kells,” the man said, his voice a little scratchy from lack of use. He coughed to clear his thought before continuing. “So nice of you to visit.”

“Sarcasm?” Nick said, leaning against the wall. “Come now, doctor. I expect more of you.”

The man only glared at him. Nick paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I need a favor,” he said. “I need-“

“And just why would I help you?” the telepath said.

For a moment, the hatred and disgust in Nick’s eyes faded. “It’s about my daughter?”

“And?”

“And they’ve found someone to use to motivate you. They’re going after Josh.”

((apologies to the characters i borrowed, i hope i didn't do a horrible job with them))

[Lani Hunter]

Revolution

Lani shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled along with his head down like the rest of them. Approaching the edge of the building Lani finally raised his eyes and looked at the foreboding gray structure. “Identification.” The man said when Lani came to a stop. With little hesitation Lani pulled his hand out of his pocket and held his right hand out to the man. Twisting it over the man scanned the barcode on the inside of his wrist and let it go as if it were diseased. “Hunter, Lani. Born: August 14th, 2157. Age: twenty. Crime: Theft and disobedience. Do you accept?” Lani slowly stuck his hand back in his pocket and dropped his eyes again. “Young man?” The man prompted annoyed. Lani was too relieved that they still didn’t know about his power.

“Yes,” Lani said in a low voice. With that acceptance Lani was taken by the arm and whisked away into the building. Washed thoroughly and his old clothing thrown out Lani went through the examinations wordlessly and without protest. Changed into the new gray clothing with a number on the back and front. 24601. Lani touched it and sighed, but this was his fault. If he had been like everyone else this never would have happened.

“Arm.” The doctor said, the telekinetic’s last checkpoint. Lani extended his arm and looked away from the neon green substance they squirted into his arm. He blinked a few times his mind going hazy and he had a strange sense of being lost. He allowed them to walk him to his room. A room with a lock. A rarity in a world where people did as they were told. Lani laid down on the bed when he was told to. He closed his eyes and let darkness take him and he waited. It would wear off eventually. It always did. Lani didn’t know why the medication had no effect on him, they had even given him a double dose. They gave everyone here a double dose and they were fixed in a few months.

Morning came and Lani sighed as he remembered his current state. But his mind was clear again, he could think and he could plan. But by god was he hungry. He sat up and noticed the door was open. He stepped out warily looking about. It had taken longer this time. It appeared he had missed breakfast. He went in search of food and found a door. A door that said ‘do not enter – staff only’. Lani had half a mind to turn around but his hand went to the door.

“Stop.” A voice ordered and Lani stopped. Because that was what he was supposed to do. “Can’t you read?”

Lani looked up feinting ignorance. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t see.” He drew back as if wounded and looked at the man in white. They were the guards here, the perfect definition of obedience.

“24601? You’re late for your appointment. What happened?”

“I overslept, my apologies,” He ducked his head and the man just shook his head and indicated for him to follow and turned away without checking to make sure Lani followed. But he didn’t have to. Lani could fake it so long as he was here and get out quickly. The man opened a door and motioned Lani inside but didn’t come inside himself. Lani looked around the room his eyes cold and emotionless. The room was a pleasant blue and a scent of the ocean filled the room from a votive by the window.

“Ah, Mr. Hunter, good to see you.” The woman behind the desk finally came to his attention. She was small of stature but had a kind face. “Have a seat, please.” Lani sat. “How are you feeling?” Lani took his time to examine her. Short blond hair, blue eyes. Her suit seemed to swallow her up but the strangest thing was a little white rabbit pin on her collar.

“Better,” he said honestly. Better now that his mind was clear again.

“Good to hear,” she said cheerfully, “Do you understand why you’re here?”

Lani shifted and dropped his eyes. “I’m not well.”

“Very right,” she agreed, “But please understand, Mr. Hunter, you’re here not to be punished but to be rehabilitated. You’ve lost your way and please understand that you’ve risked the harmony we’ve created with your actions.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and then looked up. “Tell me your name.”

“Mr. Hunter, you do not have that kind of authority here.”

“You’re not medicated?” Lani asked confused.

“I am,” she said holding up her arm and showing her wrist. “But, you know the medication doesn’t limit freedom, it just helps calm things down. My name, however, is Dr. Kitchi. So how is the new medication treating you?”

Lani shrugged unsure of how to answer. “A little fuzzy,” he decided to tell her. After all how would a medicated person lie?

“You’ll get used to that. Do you know why we medicate people?”

Lani sighed he had never attended classes but he knew enough of the stories. “When the world was almost taken by war in order to save it all of peoples agreed to end war all together. Without the medication…” Lani swallowed hard. “Without it people are violent and rebellious.”

She nodded and checked her watch. “Well Mr. Hunter, considering how late you were I have other matters to attend to but I do wish for you to think on what you just told me.”

Lani nodded and stood and thanked her. He went into the hall and checked the clock. Almost noon, which meant almost lunch. And no sooner had the thought passed his mind than a bell rang. He joined the mass of people headed for the mess hall. He got a tray filled with bread and soup. He took a seat out of the way. It didn’t matter. No one was speaking anyways. The only noise was plastic clacking against plastic and the occasional slurp as someone finished off the broth of their soup. Lani took this time to look around. What he saw scared him. People weren’t even thinking for themselves. They ate meticulously and without glancing around. There were even some that sat staring longingly at their food until a guard passed by and allowed them to eat. Rehabilitation indeed. This people had become mindless. Lani could handle the extra drugs but these people, they couldn’t.

Finished early Lani stood and took his tray to the wash rack handing it off. He found his way out to the yard he had seen on his way in and stood on the hard packed dirt. Turning his face to the sky he prayed for strength.

“Kid… Hey kid…” A voice called his attention and he looked around before his eyes fell on a dark skinned elderly man sitting one leg laid out and the other… gone above the knee. A cane was propped up against the same wall that the man was. Confused Lani looked around and seeing no one else he pointed at himself giving the man a questioning look. “Yeah, you. C’mere.” Slowly and cautiously Lani stepped over. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Lani,” he spoke softly.

The man stuck his hand out. “Charlie,” he said as Lani took his hand. “Would you sit with an old man for a while?” There was nothing better to do so Lani crossed his legs and sat across from the man. “How are you liking it here in paradise?” His attempt at a joke was lost on Lani and the man shook his head. “Not much of a talker are you?”

Lani shrugged. “I talk enough,” he answered carefully.

“Is it true?” The man asked leaning forward his eyes bright in his dark wrinkled face. Lani looked at him without comprehension. “Everyone was talking about it, are you really one who was medicated and it wore off?” Lani looked around afraid of the admission. He didn’t make a move, not to nod, not to shake his head and certainly not to speak. The man rose a brow. “I want to tell you something. I don’t like to advertise this but I’m the oldest man in the joint. One hundred and ten.” He said proudly, “lost my leg in the last war.” He patted the empty space where his leg should have been.

Lani’s eyes widened and he was awed by the shear age that he was confronted with. “So you were alive when it happened?” He asked a little eagerness slipping into his voice.

He nodded. “Would you listen to an old man’s story?” Lani nodded. Charlie shifted and a smile grew on his face. “I guess the medicine don’t work well on us old folks. Has to be given as a baby or else you end up all drooly like Hansen over there.” He gestured and Lani’s eyes fell on a man who literally was sitting there staring. Someone was standing next to him and every so often reminded him to breath. “I’m no fan of war, myself, but I tell you what this medication is not the answer. It makes people obedient and it shuts down the violent emotions people have. There is no passion anymore. And without passion there is no creation. And that is where these fools messed up. You can’t have peace without creation.

“Things haven’t changed for a hundred year, I can prove that. People used to be so full of energy and love and yes anger, tell me have you ever felt so strongly about something you think it might kill you?”

Lani thought about the anger that had burned in his when his world was ended. And he nodded.

The man seemed pleased with his answer. “Well, you’re the only one. Most everyone else is dead or here like me. I tell you war is a nasty thing but I’ll admit that it was worth it for protecting someone you care about. Did you know that this country used to be governed by people. Every four years people would flock to polls and cast votes on issues. It was a government by the people and for the people. Now people can’t find the passion to care. Someone passes an unpopular law and people just roll over because someone higher up says so. Did you know that this country wouldn’t exist if people didn’t get angry?

“Hundreds of years ago the people here, our ancestors decided they didn’t like how they were being ruled. So they rebelled. Enough to make an army. And that army filled with passion and not much else was able to beat one of the most sophisticated armies of their time. That’s what we’re missing. We’re not missing violence we’re being controlled, son. Obedient like dogs they’ve made us. It’s not how people were supposed to live.” Charlie sighed wistfully.

“They rebelled?” Lani asked interested.

The man’s eyes lit up as he flew into a story. “Yeah, the year was 1776…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And that, my boy, is what courage is. Courage to rebel when you don’t have a shadow of a chance. And the United States was born like a phoenix from the ashes. History tells us we had our own share of problems but things got done. People created, people were free,” Charlie said in conclusion. Lani found himself so absorbed and fascinated by the whole idea that he didn’t even realize that the sun had started to set behind them.

Lani opened his mouth to ask another question but a bell rang out across the yard startling him. It must be dinner. Lani rose to his feet and offered his hand to Charlie. The old man took it gratefully and Lani hauled him to his feet. Well, foot. He hobbled along next to Lani and something strange happened. The man stopped suddenly and clutched at his chest. He toppled over like a tree and his body shuddered. Lani screamed for help and knelt next to the man.

“Finally,” he croaked and a smile crossed his face. Lani was numb as several hands flung him away from the dying man. He watched bouncing from foot to foot but eventually the efforts to revive the man were given up and he was proclaimed dead. Hardly knowing the man Lani had not expected to be so affected. Tears rolled down his cheeks for the man who had shared his last story with him.

People finally seemed to notice him and one of the men disengaged themselves from the fray and took him by the elbow leading him away from the scene. Allowing himself to be sat down the man tried to console Lani but Lani wouldn’t be consoled for he wasn’t only mourning the man but the idea. Revolution. The idea burned in Lani’s mind as he ate and as he slept.

It dominated his thoughts filling the voids with purpose. People weren’t free. It was an illusion. For weeks Lani didn’t speak to anyone, not Dr. Kitchi, not the other inmates, no one. It was only on a stormy evening when a man came to the prison. “Bring me prisoner 24601.” The man said and Lani’s eyes lifted as everyone else turned to him. A flash of anger shot through him as he identified that man. The murderer. Lani stood and faced the man his eyes hard and cold. “Hello Lani, nice to finally see you again. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

“Five years,” he replied. Five years since everything he knew had been destroyed. Without more of an exchange than that he motioned for Lani to follow. He did. His eyes glared at the man’s back and he realized he would have loved to see if the plastic silverware you pierce his skin.

“Lani, I have a proposition for you.” The man said stopping and turning as they reached the gate. “You come with me and have your freedom. You work for me, since we cannot medicate you we have decided that you will either be with us or terminated.” The words held no threat for Lani. He didn’t care anymore about himself. He cared for the whole. The people.

Lani smiled pleasantly and for the first time in his life let his power run wild. It tore at the gate and at the bricks and at the foundation. The place rocked and the man fell back as the gate blasted open. “Your freedom is a lie!” Lani cried pointing at him. By this point people had run out of the building to see what was happening. A cheer erupted from those still strong enough to rebel. For the first time in his life Lani witnessed a riot. People ran at the guards and screamed at the top of their lungs for freedom.

Violence and chaos was everywhere but it was amazing. People strong enough to fight the drug were now finding something to be passionate about. Dr. Kitchi ran at Lani and he braced himself. She flashed a smile and came to a stop next to him. “Vive the New Revolution!” She cried at the top of her lungs. Lani joined in her chant determination sketched on his face. Gunshot rang out over the crowd and now the defiant screams turned to ones of fear.

Dr. Kitchi ducked her head and Lani grabbed her arm and half dragged her out of the prison. He pushed guards out of the way and they hopped into one of the cars. That might not have been how the first Revolution started, but this was how the new America would be born. Like a phoenix from the ashes rising through people strong enough to take their country back.