Here's the latest installment of my current dark scifi project. This is chapter 41. If you're just tuning in, consider starting with chapters 1 and 2. Be advised that this work considers difficult subjects, including suicide. If you're in crisis, please seek help. Help is available here.
Hunter Domino recovered from his injuries and insisted on finishing his speaking tour. His Domino Coalition continued to produce gridlock throughout the federal government when it wasn't furthering its agenda of ending prohibition and establishing a Universal Basic Income. More and more of Domino's followers began calling for him to run for president. He didn't want to do this, but carefully kept the option open in the speeches he gave.
Horace Gomez bowed out of the tour after the shooting, afraid that someone new would come seeking misguided revenge. With Special Agent Weaver and Dr Winston nearby, he spent a few weeks hiding out in Bonnie's yurt and the isolation got to him. So Horace decided to leave. Wary of Chicago, he decided to try out DC, where Strike 25 wanted him to serve as their National Director.
Technically, Horace was elected to the position. The network had employed a process called fractal democracy to elect a small group of representatives who voted Horace in. To do this, they divided the total network into random groups of six, having each group choose a delegate. Then the delegates were randomly grouped and another round of delegates was selected. After a relatively small number of rounds, the total network's representatives were chosen. And they picked Horace to lead them.
Once Horace was settled into his new Brickle Park apartment, Special Agent Weaver and Dr Winston both decided that he was now secure and healthy enough to get by without them. Dr Winston had a medical practice to resurrect and Weaver decided to quit the Bureau to open a consultancy specializing in protecting activists. He'd be based in DC, and hoped Strike 25 would be his first big client.
The day after his protectors said their final farewells, Horace was walking around the neighborhood when he found Hoot's Thrift. Needing stuff for his new apartment, he went in and found that the pay-as-you-go thrift store doubled as a bustling community center. Poking around a bit, Horace found a GSG room, and decided to sit in on a meeting.
Just inside the room's door was a woman sitting at a desk with a phone handy. "I need to take your picture for security reasons," she said.
"All good," said Horace, standing on a little x made of tape on the floor in front of the desk.
"All set, Go," said the woman with a smile after taking the picture.
Joining the meeting in progress, Horace felt a little self conscious about being recognized. "Hey everyone," he said when it was his turn to speak. "I'm Horace and my life is a total mess. But it's cool."
"Do you want to do a two-minute check-in?" asked Sam, the group's facilitator.
"Okay," said Horace. "Before 321, I had a great life. I was going to school to be an engineer, I had a girlfriend that I planned to marry, everything was great. But of course it wasn't great. The world was falling apart and even making rent became damn near impossible. So I got involved with Strike 25, and they threw me in jail for it. I got out and the feds were all over me. Then my girlfriend died mysteriously after getting a vaccine. Then I helped thwart a terrorist attack. Then I survived an assassination attempt while on a speaking tour because Hunter Domino caught a bullet for me. Now I'm in charge of Strike 25 and I'm finding it a little challenging to keep grounded."
"No shit, it is you," said a young woman who was knitting. "You know you changed my life. Everything they put you through, you just kept at it. Making peace, trying to bring people together instead of naming enemies to fight with. You're seriously my hero."
"I'll second that," said a man in a camo jacket. "I would've lost it if I had to deal with any one of those things you just mentioned. Somehow you kept it together."
"Not somehow," said Horace. "I had exactly the right people around me every step of the way. No one can take care of themselves through stuff like that. I had people that took care of me. Now I'm in a new city and I don't really know anyone."
"You know me," said Anabelle, who had just entered the room and sat down. "Detroit? Remember? You stayed at Bonnie's place? Let's talk after the meeting."
"Hi Anabelle," said Knitting. "You know Horace?"
"Soul bond," said Anabelle. "But I have something else that I need to say. It's my friend Ray. I feel like he's been brainwashed and I don't know what to do about it."
"Do you want to say more about that?" asked Sam.
"He set out to take pictures of political demonstrations," said Anabelle. "He got a website and followers. Seemed to be doing good. But Ray just visited and he's not okay. He's, like, obsessed with race and gender now. I mean, obsessed. He spent an hour explaining that the concept of deadlines was racist. And another hour listing all of the internet personalities he boycotts for their gender insensitivity. He thinks all of the world's problems can be traced back to race and gender. I mean, it's fine for him to think that, but he's acting like a religious evangelist about it. If I wanted evangelical, I would've stayed in Arkansas."
"We're not supposed to talk politics here," said Camo.
"I hear what you're saying about watching your friend become a different person," said Knitting. "Sometimes people change, and not always how we expect them to. My ex became a Flat Earther when we broke up. As an astrophysicist, I can't help but see his choice as personal on some level."
"I've heard about Flat Earthers," said Horace. "They literally believe the Earth is flat and think the globe is a lie. What do you even say to someone like that?"
"You know they're psy ops, don't you?" said Camo. "Woke culture. Flat Earth. Both psy ops, designed to isolate troublemakers and make them appear absurd. I'm not saying the government is behind it. But someone sure is."
"You think?" said Horace. "I'm not so sure."
"What's a psy op?" asked Anabelle.
"Psychological operation," said Camo. "Using media and other methods to influence how some people think."
"Like propaganda?" asked Anabelle. "Ray showed me propaganda."
"Well, congratulations on not being converted," said Horace.
"Thanks," said Anabelle. "I told Ray not to call me again until he gets a clue."
"That sounds like a healthy boundary," said Sam.
"It is," said Anabelle. "But it still bothers me."
"Maybe it's supposed to," said Sam. "We're social creatures. It's supposed to be easier to be open with people than it is to close them off."
"I never thought of it that way," said Anabelle. "I don't have many friends, and Ray was one of the first people I met in the city. He's probably still in there somewhere, and if that person ever reaches out, I'll be there."
(Feature image from Pixabay.)
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