Virus Love (c) 2005 Jeremy Gosnell
“We have found no successful cure for the virus, even though it is benign, we do seek a cure, for it interferes with the actions of spreading his word.”
By this point my thoughts were fixated elsewhere; somewhere other than the supreme priest’s mouth, somewhere searching the walls for the answer – for the truth. Shortly after Priest Valorous finished his monologue on the viral implications of love, High Priest Seibel took the stand.
“How far we have come, how far we have traversed, and through the wretched mine field of democracy, to the founding principles of communistic society, to our final reproach the green fields of religious and singular monarchy rule. To live in his words, the words of the one savior – the one deity who proved above all others that faith was the founding principle of perfection. Here, now, in 2280, we the human race have evolved from lowly lust loving bacterial entities, to perfected, intelligent, and moral understanding beings … a long road it was, but a necessary one. To think that one man planted the seed of this, planted what has grown into modern epoch in the minds of the human race, first in old America, then across the world – Lord Bush – Lord Bush! He who burned the heathen faggots, fried the heretics, and slaughtered the unwilling. To Lord Bush we bow. Although it has been brought to my attention, as well as the attention of the high Conservative Council that love has reared its chemically unbalanced head again – Here in modern society, trying to convert otherwise moral and conscious beings into lust craved vampires who seek nothing more than total anarchy. Those who are maddened enough to desire peace are easily conflicted with this terrible virus, taken over by it, destroyed by its implications, and devoured by its unmerciful power. For over forty years I have not heard of one being who has fallen afflicted by this horrible atrocity to modern welfare, but make no mistake that if we do not find the one who is afflicted with love – we in the supreme duty of perfecting the great American Empire will destroy all of you – and fry your internal organs until you scream in such pain that whether inflicted with love or not, you will be willing to talk. I currently wage war on more than nine hundred star systems, and have no problem making this one a desolate place where only morals and contempt will grow. Am I clear?”
The High Priest finished, his voice shuttering out in the tone of an innocence held in the wrap of inescapable duty. He was a frightened man, frightened by what he had done, the lies and mistruths he had performed and I assumed that he knew that when his time in the universe was through it was not the “green fields” that awaited him, but the fiery pits below. I sat somewhat at ease, and yet somewhat uneasy, I knew I had become afflicted with something, though I knew not what it was. My assumption was that it was possibly love, though I felt it not towards another – just in general towards all things. It had started when I befriended mutton on the animal world of Honoraria. He was a friendly creature who followed me around awaiting droplets of food from my sustentation pack. I was able to condition him to do various tricks and maneuvers and I often found him entertaining me and other members of my missionary team late into the night.
My fondness for my mutton friend had grown, more so since I had left Honoraria and returned back to the sovereign American system and was again forced into the gray tapestry of modern life. I ate what the council determined was morally right for me to eat, I slaved to the Arenac Corporations and I gave all I had to society’s rich, those the council had deemed the pure. Soon though the fondness I held for the mutton was now branching off and occasionally when I would pass a female in the city. I would be encouraged internally to speak to her. I knew it was against all forms of Conservative Restriction for a male to speak to a female, although I felt compelled or pressured to do so.
Such things were reserved I knew for the rich, the pure. Carnal embraces, drinking fine wines, and bathing in glamour – they were so pure that such things would not taint them. They could fall in love, they could even “make love” like in the days of old, but I, a lowly peon, servant of the great white rich – the great and all powerful pure would be executed if I spoke to a female! How dare my mind foster such implications!
My feelings of togetherness had caused me to question normality. I was seeking truth where I knew I had been told only lies by not only the council, but even those I was nearly close to. Their minds functioned in a different pattern than my own and thus they thought my seeking of wholeness and reality was insane; that reality had been placed before me and I could not grasp it. I thought them insane as well and I decided to embrace my quest and seek out the truths that had remained so hidden.
You can imagine my shock then, when after months, nearly years of searching the archives I came across – truth. What is truth I asked myself? The shock of it all, love it was not a virus but a natural human emotion. Peace was not wrong but right – it was right for a being to be peaceful and seek to not hurt another living creature. The teachings of the one they promoted were untrue and skewed, distorted and unreal. The one had spoken greatly of love and in his time on old Earth he had loved many. Why had such wonderful and enlightening teachings been abandoned in favor of war mongering madness?
The real question that loomed before me was different though, how to make the people of America aware of the truth? The council had forbid free speech and any word spoken against the monarchy was ruled as treason; the punishment was a torturous execution. Free will, free thinking, all the things the one had supported had now been ruled unlawful and disastrous to a free society … though I soon learned my society was not really free.
Truth? What was it? How could I expand what I had learned from months of studying to the general population without getting caught … or worse executed?
“Life, the one gift we have been endowed by our eternal father. A chance for success, for failure, for love or indifference. It is inescapable, for it is eternal by forthright and justice. We must find our father again … we must heed his call.”
-The achieves – page noted 227788 -Lord Masterson
Lord Masterson awaits
“He awaits you in his chamber young Faulkner.”
Masterson’s assistant was waving me into his chambers, deep within the belly of the council interior. Masterson had been a dear friend of my father’s, and once, almost twenty years ago had supported a revolution of free thinkers that sought to bring back the age of knowledge. After the Conservative Coalition had the internet destroyed in 2100 there was no massive communication between citizens or societies and such madness had overtaken many in search of knowledge. The free thinkers wanted to hearken back to the age when information was shared and available and Masterson had secretly supported their efforts. Somehow he had avoided the council’s watchful eye and remained vigilant in his support of true freedom.
I assumed Masterson above all others would support my ideas and be able to somehow steer me towards my goal of freeing the minds of citizens abroad. In my mind, he must have already had some idea of the truths hidden beneath the ancient archives and would be unsurprised when I reflected some of my knowledge onto him.
As usual Masterson was calm and quiet. He was an intent listener, he did not question, just calked his head in silence taking in what I had to say. I spoke of peace and unity, universal truth and love. Masterson listened, and finally after I had finished my entire presentation he spoke.
“Faulkner, you have become, as do many young men, your father. I remember when your father was your same age, him standing before me as you do now, saying words of similar intent and meaning. We learned then, as you will soon, that no matter what regard this is presented in it will ultimately fail. The council, the beliefs, and the process are too concrete and well footed in success to offer any real way to be destroyed. They follow the madness of Lord Bush, and they revel in war and suffering, dining in hatred and miscalculation. They are the sludge of our universe, and yet they are in control. Each member of the council knows what you have just shared with me. They know and yet they support and represent lies and mistruths – failures and poor judgment. I am sorry – Faulkner you have so abruptly learned of these truths – though I beg you to forget them just as quickly as you introduced yourself to them.”
I have to admit I was somewhat shocked by Masterson’s reply, I expected from him some level of support. I was almost amazed that this man, the one who was begging me to forget my new found knowledge, had just decades earlier supported the largest free thinking movement of modern times. What had changed within Masterson’s heart, what darkness had overtaken his mind? I knew a different approach to these issues was in order.
“One last question before I depart Lord Masterson” I said.
“Of course my young friend.” He replied.
“What if a rich were to die, one of the pure executed by someone who advocated free thinking?” Masterson’s face became white, “I am going to act as though I did not hear those words escape your lips, and I suggest they are never uttered again.”
I decided I would not take Masterson’s suggestion.
“If we cannot speak freely of our thoughts … If we cannot share our thoughts with others, and contemplate and refine them, then what we ask what is the purpose of thinking at all.
-The Free Thinkers Movement – 2100
Masterson had changed, much like the entire universe had changed. America, it was the virus, it was the plague that had overtaken the hearts of many, and I, one of its many peons was searching for a cure. A cure for the cure … The pure, this rich as I had started to call them lived above society. The doors without knobs, the rooms without windows, this is where they lurked. None were more pure according to the council’s standards then Andrewartha Arenac of Arenac Corporation. The largest American supplier of military arms, funded mainly by the council itself, he was according to the teachings of the council, the purest of all men.
Odd, I had been watching Arenac for weeks now, and he seemed to be anything but pure. He invited several different females into his home on regular occasions. Dined them with the finest food, and after slipping them some sort of drink, escorted them to his bed where he partook in carnal exercises of many varieties. Was this purity or the workings of a rotten being consumed by wealth?
I decided a visit to Mr. Arenac was in order. Why not, my thoughts alone had branded me a heretic; I was consumed by the viral implications of love. When the council found out I was not flowing in the direction of monarchy rule I would be terminated like all the others. An impact of some sort was required of my new found liberation. I had found an exterior duct that could be used in gaining entrance to Arenac’s home, and used it as a way to bypass his security. Once inside I was amazed by the gadgetry and glitter that had been applied to his everyday life … this man, in all reality was a living god, his home like a scene from heaven itself. Though I felt I brought his day of judgment with me, only today I would play the roles of both judge, jury, and liberator … I would liberate him from his purity – and plunge him into darkness.
As he approached his door, I swung around, kneeling above his entrance like a hawk awaiting its prey. As the door slid open …
“Mr. Arenac, you have held our society in the grip of slavery too long.”
“Is that a chaser in your hand” he asked?
“Yes Mr. Arenac, that it is” I replied.
“You plan to kill me” he laughed?
“No Mr. Arenac, I plan to liberate you unto hell.”
With that I fired my chaser blasting open his chest cavity. Blood and bile spilled from him as he made his last few gasps of life, and passed on to eternity. The deed was done, the revolution had begun.
“The patterns in the glass lead us to believe that Mr. Arenac was in fact shot with a Cornelian Chaser. Since this type of weapon is only issued to Priest Scribes and Monarchy Guards in training we do believe that he was terminated by someone within the council. Likely, a victim, of the viral implications of love …
-Governor of investigations into internal matters of faith speaking on the death of Arenac Corporation’s founder
Patterns in the glass
“Thus, as in the wake of all things we are brought to the here and the now.”
Both Priest Valorous and High Priest Siebel stood, stunned by my story. Their faces filled with anger and hatred but too afraid to make any motion, for they knew not what strategy I had concocted to escape the situation I had been placed. It was obvious I had come to the council session by choice, seated myself where I had by choice, and made an honest attempt to confess to both being infected by love and murdering Arenac by choice. These issues alone had obviously concerned the priests, for I had made it clear that death was not something I feared.
“Here in my hand is a list of four hundred and forty five demands. Written in accordance with diplomacy and thought sharing between I, and many members of American society. This is what we the people of America demand – or we promise you the council and the Conservative Commission war on these terms!” It is a Declaration of Peace, a Declaration of Love based on the true teachings of the one.”
I tossed the two priests the writing, and prepared myself for their reaction. Siebel opened his mouth to speak first …
“Re-institute the age of knowledge.”
“Re-connect the founding fibers of the internet so that all citizens can learn, think, and share their ideals to better inspire and enlighten them.”
“Stop the nine hundred source wars across the galaxies and free all political prisoners taken for your own personal benefits.”
“Stop the consequential slavery held by the rich, the ones you call pure, and allow each man to choose their own destiny as taught by the one in the ancient scrolls.”
“I refuse to read another word of this blasphemy! Young Faulkner you are no more than an insolate trader that will be executed here and now before the masses! Guards of the Monarchy seize this madman and purify him of his affliction!” Siebel yelled.
Though the guards did not move.
“MEN SEIZE HIM.” Still they stood at the ready, no movement, just their stance.“I will not tolerate this lunacy from any member of this council, I am contacting the Lord Valises and his army will deal with you mal contempt.” Siebel was silent.
“I am sorry High Priest, though I fear that I now command your army. They have sworn alliance to me, and the revolution. You can either meet the demands of the declaration or my army will destroy you, and challenge Valises when he arrives.”
“I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS!” Just as Seibel finished his phrase his head was removed. One shot from my chaser, and the revolution had begun.
900 star systems. 900 armies. 900 Priests. That is not counting Valises, some say he cannot be killed, others claim he is no more than a myth. Once the line was crossed we can never turn back. It is not love that acted here today, but one must embrace the darkness before they can revel in the dawn. I will be both night and day, I will bring you home.
“Look my friends, at the sky above. The rain has dissipated, and a new day is beginning. How beautiful those skies appear, how sweet, how warm the sun does shine. Embrace this day like all others … look beyond it, but yet become one with it. With monumental love we move forward, unto today, unto tomorrow we are afflicted with fear.
Fear not my friends; fear nothing… for we are one. Always and forever we stand against the madness. We are the calm before the storm; we are the sweet wind on the tail of the dawn”