Trial Children

Trial Children

By Meddle T. Doeswell

{First off let me start off by saying that I've considered doing this novel as either a series of journal entries or from a first person point of view. The part in italics would serve to begin the novel as a journal found by the reader in the future. However, I would like feedback on how you would think it be improved/degraded by taking out the italics and the idea of doing it as a series of journal entries. As always I hope you enjoy my work especially this as it is by far my favorite thing I've written so far.}

You’re searching through the attic of an old house, some old war hero with no close kin. You’re part of the cleaning crew and as you look through a bunch of dusty of boxes. As you’re picking up one of the boxes the bottom falls out and a bunch of old battered journals falls out. You pick up the first journal and the title of the name is Dean Lucas, the Dean Lucas, the hero of the Trial War. The war we couldn’t afford to lose, and almost did. The war was nearly 30 years ago, its 2043 and the world’s still recovering from the effects. This is like finding George Washington’s war journal. You read over the first page.

If Not the End Then Something Close to It

My name is Dean Lucas what follows is the true account of what really happened in the Trial War. Some of the things you’ll read are public knowledge, others have never left my lips, and I’m the only one who knows some of it. For the greater good I’ve kept them to myself. But as age sets in I’m beginning to lose things so I wanted to write them down. If you’re reading this then that means that I’m likely dead; I could give you some diatribe about leaving an old man his legacy but if you’re from the most current generation you probably don’t even know what that means because you’ve never known old people. So read on but once you finish; you’ll bear a secret which can change the world as you know it. The question is, what will you do with it? How you live with the great secrets defines one’s life, it certainly defined mine.

January 1st 2013

The plague came like a whirlwind; it’s epicenter, New York International Airport. Of course we didn't know that back then. We thought we were on the rise after surviving the supposed end of the world 2012 was supposed to bring according to the Mayans. However, we couldn't have been more wrong.The plague incubated in the travelers as sniffles, mimicking a common cold, as it began to dig in. The traveler’s began to fall ill and starting staying home from work but by then the damage had been done. As the travelers began to suffer, hemorrhaging to death in whatever spot they happened to be lying, the World Health Organization mobilized to fight. This would be its first true confrontation with a modern day bubonic plague. Unfortunately it would be so much worse.The plague was airborne, but could be transferred through body fluids. As the first wave of infected died in the quarantines, the world turned to madness.The rich isolated themselves while the lower classes took whatever precautions they could. Humanity's selfish nature proved to be its undoing as the governments of the world tried to contain the plague, their citizens ran as far and fast as they could breaking all quarantines measures. The televisions of the world watched as the whole cities burned in the attempt to slow the plague’s progress. New York, Berlin, San Diego, Shanghai, Moscow, and Dubai vanished in the blink of nuclear eyesore as the powers that be tried cow the masses into follow quarantine. Our inability to put the good all before ourselves was being tested and we were failing. By March, in the waning days of the plague when the dead far outnumbered the living, it was nearly impossible to travel without seeing the signs of the death and decay of the world. The sickly sweet smell of decay was world's new perfume.

I managed to make it to Atlanta walking cross country from Statesboro, Georgia before the lock down commenced in earnest, and I was able to learn the news before it became public knowledge. The plague only affected those over thirty years of age; it could somehow detect the aging of human cells. Which could only mean one thing; the plague was manufactured.

As the body count soared into the billions order truly collapsed in full, the governments of the world all but gone only the secretaries and youngest politicians being under the plague’s threshold of incubation. That’s when they came, portals opened up across the world: the Mall in Washington, the Arch in St. Louis, Taj Mahal, Paris, Hong Kong, Melbourne, Accra, Rio de Janiero.

I joined the army in Atlanta where they made me an officer; they were always hard up for officers. As I learned the basics of military strategy I cursed society’s failings. We had always been taught to respect our elders because they supposedly knew best. The ageist and protectionist thinking of the time before the plague might seal the fate of humanity and my only solace was that all those who had caused it had died a truly terrible death. The United States government was in shambles, the line of succession for president had never anticipated such a cataclysm and the military chain of command wasn’t in much better shape. Fiefdoms sprang by the day under young politicians claiming that they were now the president. The military at least held together in a patchwork that was moderately useful, like a holey blanket in winter.

Chapter 1

A Brave New Hope

“A brave new hope for tomorrow is what stands before you today” says the Major General who from his looks can’t be older than 28. He orates for the crowd as the first class from the Georgia Officers Academy stands at attention 1,000 strong at the Turner Field stadium. The crowd is subdued and the stadium is only a quarter full though this is event is being broadcast throughout the city on cable. The crowd is young and vibrant and therein lays the tragedy. Graduation is a time for parents and grandparents to congratulate you’re achievements and commitments,and slip you a beer at the graduation party if you’re Dad’s cool like mine was. Now if your lucky you’re siblings can come if they’re not scrounging for food or work. I have no opportunity for luck, since I’m an orphan, but I suppose that makes me lucky its own way. I don’t have anything left to lose in this world. The speaker continues on.

“These young men and women are the first class of the Georgia Officers Academy their deeds will reflect on the work our school and our city has done. A cowardly enemy has struck at us, yet we shall not falter. America may be broken but it can be reforged and made strong again. This nation has never weathered a storm as these officers will, but our prayers, and our hopes, go with them so please give it up for them Atlanta. “

“Georgia Officers Academy Class of 2013 Atten-shun” ordered the general smiling

We offer our salute to the general one thousand people. One motion

“GA Officers Academy class of 2013, Dimissed”

We march side by side, 120 beats per minute, arms breast pocket high, a seemingly unbreakable unit into the underground of the stadium. The roar is almost painful now, the sound of steps echoing off the concrete in an assault against the ears. We spread out into the underground framework of the stadium before our senior drill instructor Command Sergeant Major Davy Jones (yes and woe and behold the cadet who suggests he’s in the wrong branch) and Colonel Ronnie “Razor” Rice. These two men were like fathers to all of us orphans. Jones, playing the involved father cusses you with swear words your mother would frown at , and Rice offering the aloof parent being right there you needed to advice. Rice had the boring job informing us of the Geneva Convention and Military Code of Justice, but I’d seen him once outside of his Class A’s. It had actually been my turning point I was a about to be kicked out of military, I was petulant and angry. I was an orphan, I had no one left in the world not even the solace of siblings and I was taking it out on everybody. My training officer brought me Rice to midway through training and it was a night I’ll never forget

The thunder claps in the dark midnight and rain slashes the window of the Westin Hotel building. Almost every skyscraper in the city has been converted from now useless corporate offices to living space. Refugees poured into the city like the rain poured outside. Before the New Year, Atlanta’s combined statistical area pre-war population was over 6 million. That number had increased to seven million, most of them between the ages of 29 and 14. People under the age of ten almost never made it here unless an older sibling brought them along. However, the Westin had been confiscated and transformed into a massive military monolith, walls knocked down, bullet proof glass and armor replacing windows. It had become the command and control center for military operations in Georgia. It wasn’t safe any longer to fly between bases, we couldn’t remain in contact the portal’s dispersed particles into our atmosphere that blocked long rang communication. Not only that but something was taking out these isolated units whether they be land or air transport.

The rain suited my mood, the lightning matched my temper. The world was going down the toilet and I was stuck here in the stupid officer academy. It was better than being amongst the numerous beggars out there on welfare and hoping to find a job to improve their lot and cure their boredom. I wait outside Colonel Rice’s office on the 65th floor with a prime view of the surrounding city. Most of the city is dark and only intermittent car on official business or the flash of lightning shows there’s anything down there. Even the Atlanta Military Tower goes dark after sunset to save power, which is always in limited supply even when you’re on the priority list. The door opens and Colonel Rice waves a hand with a grim expression. I stomp in as loudly as possible fully expecting to get my ass chewed out; I see no reason to respect decorum. He closes the door softly and goes to stand in front of the window behind his desk, his hands clasped behind his back. He makes me stew for an eternity for before speaking.

“Dean, what are you doing here?”asked Rice
“Standing”said
“No, I mean at this academy?”
“According to my peers I’m just taking up space and hot meals”

“Did you know that out of the 1,000 officer cadets here at this academy you’re in the top 10% and that’s even with all the bullshitting you’ve been doing between sleeping through my lectures”

My cheeks flush red but I refuse to bend “What does that have to do with anything? It’s not like anything I’m learning here is going to make me feel any better. I’m an orphan; I have no one to support and no one to support me.”

“You’re wrong Dean, you’re surrounded by family. You just choose not to accept them. The military is a family and we’ve welcomed you. Yes, there’s the crawling through the mud on obstacle courses and stimulated battlefield simulators but by in large you’re living much better than the people down there. Your lot in life could be a lot worse. I read your entry psych evaluation and I have to say I wasn’t impressed.”

“How dare you I say,” I say,growling feeling my fists clench.

Rice whirls around his face stone cold “Do you really think that you are the only who had to do horrible things to get here,” he asks quietly. The thunder claps accenting his question

“There’s not a single person in this building that hasn't lost someone, and some of them have experienced what you've experienced. There not punching through walls and starting fights.

“They’re not me!”

“You’re right there not you, but you have decide who you are. Are you a man who’s going to spend the little time you have left picking fights and causing trouble? Or are you going to do something with your remaining seven years.”

“Who are you to talk about time; you've barely got 18 months before you have go into lock.”

“I won’t be going into lock”
I’m taken aback but what he just said. The rich and powerful built airtight bunkers as soon as the plague began to take over. Some died before they were completed but some managed to get inside before they caught the plague. The military has a few of their own to protect the remaining senior staff. The disease is blood borne so those who’ve yet to become carriers can transfuse clean blood, once you’ve entered lockdown. Colonels and above had the option to go into lock on a space available basis. By refusing lock he was committing suicide.

“But you’ll die”

“Dean everyone on this planet will die at sometime, you, me, and everybody. What’s important in our world today is to live and die for a purpose. We don’t have time to be kids anymore. Not if whatever is out there is to be defeated. I can’t fulfill my duty if I go into lock. Training is what I do and I would rather die doing it and fighting than to live a day past thirty tending to maps and ordering people around behind a safe door. I know what my purpose is.Do you know what yours is?”

“No, sir” I realized as the words came from my mouth that I really didn’t. “I didn’t have a purpose before the end of the world and I don’t have a purpose now.”

Rice pulls a old fashioned lantern from beneath his desk and hangs it in the window. He pulls a pack of matches from his breast pocket and lights the candle wicks, the flames blaze lazily as if unafraid of the rain pouring in torrents inches away.

“Do you know the purpose of this flame?
“No sir,”

“It provides light”

“Sir, I don’t think I’m following you”

Rice’s eyes stare deeply into the flames reflecting back its light.

“In the right hands fire offers light, to those who don’t respect its power it offers burns. If you continue on the path your on you’ll burn yourself and others. If that’s the path you choose then walk out of here right now.” I turn to walk away but he continues talking

“But if you’d like to provide light to a city, to a world that’s shrouded in darkness then this is the place to be. People looking up at this tower see that it’s all dark except for these tiny flames on each side of the building, but as long as these flames burn bright they know we’re still here, there’s still reason to hope. I know you feel like you don’t have anyone right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ll never have anyone. You’re right the world’s over as we know it, but that means it’s up to us to start a new book.”

My selfish part of me says I would have decided to stay regardless of what he said but I know deep down that’s not true. From there I was able to cut the bullshit and really commit to something, the people around me. I finished in the top one hundred and due to the new regulations graduated as a 1st Lieutenant; I took it as badge of honor, not a badge of desperation on the military’s part. For most of us the 7 weeks, they’re open door policy was legendary. Anytime day or night no questions asked, and that policy had earned them enormous respect, our class was the first to graduate and I consider there unorthodox methods to be reason all four thousand finished. Now we stood before these two surrogate parents not as cadets but as the culmination of their efforts. Colonel Rice takes off his hat to address us.

“PARADE REST!” our brigade relaxes slightly as the colonel looks down at us, pride unmistakable in his eyes.

“It has been my privilege and an honor to train each of you. Three months ago we I was asked to head up this school I wondered if it could be done. Normal Army Officer Candidate is 12 weeks at Fort Benning, on top of the eight weeks in Basic Training and as a graduate of both of those programs I believe in them very highly. However, the need for new leadership had never been greater, so I said yes. They said they needed you in seven weeks, once again I said yes but rest assured you didn’t miss out on anything. We just gave you a little less time to sleep.”He says smiling, and electing laughter from us. “However, when I meet the 1,000 cadets I would train I said no. You were some of the sorriest bunch of recruits I’d ever had the displeasure of seeing, and that’s me cleaning it up. Some of you had lost whole families and were trying to sort through it. Some of you had siblings you were trying to support. You were a seriously pissed off group of malcontents. We needed that drive, that pissed off nature, but not in the wild state that many of you expressed it. Here we burned you, beat you, even broke you, but it was all so we could reforge you into the men and women who would be able to protect those siblings you love or if you’re an orphan like me to give you skills to protect this new family you’ve made. You technically serve at the pleasure of the taxpayers but when the shooting starts these government issued strangers that you now call family are who really matter. Some of you will stay here in Atlanta to tend the home fires, others will be going out to face the naked night but as long as you believe in each other you shall not be alone. It’s been my duty for the last seven weeks, in addition to my other duties, to work on the motto for our academy. We’ve been raised in a world where light is always available with the flick of a hand but now blackouts are scheduled and street lights are never lit. The world has grown dark, but that has given you purpose. "Obscuriores et lucidiores sunt nocte inardescimus,"The darker the night the brighter we burn. Remember what you learned here, good luck and Godspeed to all of you.” The colonel replaces his hat and steps back.

Cmd. Srg. Major Jones steps forward “I’m not one for speeches and quite honestly I enjoyed cussing at each one of you. If you listened maybe you’ll have a few words to offer our adversary. You’re new assignments will be given to you alphabetically at the tables to either side of this podium.” he waves hands to accent his words “Remember your training and maybe you’ll stay alive. Atlanta Military Academy Class Zero One DIS-MISSED.