Here's the latest installment of my current dark scifi project. This is chapter 8. 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.
Sitting in a General Support Group, Tom fixed his gaze on a nearby pair of sneakers. It was his turn to speak. "You know," he said. "The number of people I've known who've taken their own lives is staggering. Andy. Jenny. Neil. Alan. Thenassi. Christine. Bob. And that's just the ones I knew well, not counting accidental deaths due to intoxication. All before 321. I might not have known any 321 victims, but I know what it's like to lose people that way."
"Thanks Tom," said Colin, the group's facilitator. "You've got a minute left on your two-minute check-in. Anything else you want to say?"
"Maybe just that I'm grateful for the group," said Tom. "I don't even know how we managed without these things."
"We didn't manage at all," said an older woman with a fuzzy purse. "That's kind of the point. And I'm not sure we're doing any better now. I mean, as a society, to prevent another 321."
"You know what I think?" asked June, a meeting regular. "I think it's all part of God's plan. Can't you feel it? I know you can."
"Like hell," said a bald man wearing a gold chain. "They've started using National Guard instead of Sheriffs to evict people. New homeless encampments start and the cops clear them out, wash, rinse, repeat. Crime has never been higher. That's not God's plan. It's the Democrats' plan. They want us to own nothing and be happy. Well guess what? We're not happy."
"What I want to know is why hasn't the stock market crashed yet?" asked a man with thick-rimmed glasses. "If things are so bad, why hasn't it crashed? I'll tell you why. Everything's fine and the media is lying, that's why. 321 never happened. There were no victims, only actors. They lie about everything, even the very shape of the Earth. Round Earth is the lie that started it all."
"Thank you, Ira," said Colin. "Could anyone else use a two-minute check-in?"
"I've been noticing something and I was wondering if anyone else had noticed it, too," said a woman in a baseball jersey. "Since 321, it's like people are going one of two ways. Some of us are getting deeper into our humanity. But some are getting more aggressive and mechanical every day. It's like the world's splitting in two, one person at a time. Anyone else see that?"
"I do," said June. "It's all in God's plan."
"Mind if I speak?" said a man in a suit. "Remember, GSGs are confidential. I'm in town presenting the White House perspective to the State Attorney regarding Kyle Nickleback. The White House considers Nickleback to be a victim of 321 Syndrome who sought help, not a terrorist who was thwarted by law enforcement. He needs hospital care, not prison. Does anyone here at this group think I'm in the wrong?"
"I saw that young man and he was no terrorist," said June. "I don't know why they keep saying that on the news."
"He did ask for help before he did anything harmful," said Colin. "But after seeing what happened with him, how many others won't ask for help out of fear of the system?"
"Part of our logic exactly," said Suit. "Listen, I could get in trouble for telling you this, but it looks like this whole thing stemmed from a patrol officer and his captain getting personally ambitious and going to the media with the terrorism angle. The view from DC is that all of the officials up here jumped on the terrorist bandwagon in search of good press, which they received. To be honest, at this point, I'm not sure even the President can get them to change their tune."
"How much of that could you say if I put you in front of a couple of million viewers?" asked Tom. "I've got a web show."
"I couldn't say any of it and keep my job," said Suit.
"But you want to tell people or you wouldn't have told us," said June.
"Hey is it true there's a diagnostic test for 321 Syndrome now?" asked Gold Chain. "Some kind of brain scanner?"
"There's been talk, but I don't see how there could be," said Suit. "The Syndrome isn't a thing, just a collection of symptoms. And one of those symptoms is asymptomatic depression, to give you an idea of how poor our understanding of the Syndrome really is. You know? It actually feels good to say that out loud. To be free to say it. To think that maybe my whole life isn't a lie."
"You're getting there," said June. "But what are you holding back? What did you come here to say?"
Suit looked around at the group. "The truth?" he said. "The truth is that I'm spiraling out of control. The President literally has no idea what's going on. My wife barely talks to me. I have a drug problem. I've started saying pervy stuff to random women on the street and I have no idea why. I keep going to work because it's the only thing I can think of to do. And now I'm telling all this to a bunch of strangers."
"It's what we're here for," said Colin.
"It's cool, man," said Gold Chain. "You might work for the Democrats, but in here you're just another person."
"Hey everyone, I gotta go," said Tom, getting up and handing Suit a card. "Let me know if you want some uncensored airtime."
As he got into his car, Tom's phone rang. Seeing who it was, his heart skipped a beat and a grin spread across his face. "Hi Jo," he answered. "Good timing. What's up?"
"Hi Tom," said Jo. "I was just sitting here waiting for someone and I thought I'd give you a call to tell you how cool it is, the direction you've taken your show."
"Thanks," said Tom. "You're still my favorite guest. Love to have you back any time."
"Listen," said Jo. "Can I ask you something and it's okay if you say no?"
"What is it?" asked Tom.
"I know it's short notice, but what if we met in New York tonight?" asked Jo. "It's four hours by train for me, but my friend Kara is out of town so I can stay at her apartment and come back to DC tomorrow. What if we had dinner and just talked? Maybe watched a movie or something?"
Although conventional wisdom suggested that he should play it cool, Tom couldn't help himself. "Yessss!" he said, punching the roof of his car. "I mean, it would be great to see you. And it's no problem for me to drive into the city. I can meet you at the train station, or wherever you want. To be honest, you've been on my mind a lot."
"You too," said Jo. "I normally don't do stuff like this. But with everything going on, I figure why not?"
"For sure," said Tom. "But I kind of thought you and Ranger Martin were a thing?"
"We're just friends, Tom," said Jo. "Plus, Martin just landed a job with a wilderness camp in Idaho. But I appreciate your desire for clarity. My train arrives at seven. I'll text you the details."
"Great!" said Tom. "I'm looking forward to it."
"Me too," said Jo. "Thanks again. See you soon."
(Feature image from Pixabay.)
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