|
Equilibrium Fan Fiction
by David W. Huang
The
Cleric
|
|
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
| 7 | Author's
Notes
The days
turned to weeks and then months. Nathan slowly let the credibility of
his new identity spread and set until he could begin to act as if he
had been amongst them all his life. He knew much more of their protocol
and ways now, though he couldn't always say he understood it. It had
become a little over two months and he was beginning to become
restless. His convictions had all but vanished. By now, he knew that
Cleric Preston had killed DuPont, who had been posing as Father for the
past decade. He knew that DuPont and much of the Council had been
hypocrites... guilty of sense offense themselves. He no longer believed
he could reach them nor did he want to. At the same time he found
himself developing relationships with the people around him.
Especially, Brother Martin and Jen. He had spent most of his time
around them after all, even after his recovery.
Brother
Martin belonged to some religion long since thought dead by the
citizens of Libria. As a Cleric, he remembered how the religious were
some of the most steadfast of sense offenders going to their deaths
with peace and absolute conviction in an utterly irrational invisible
being. But out of deference to his healer, Nathan kept such thoughts to
himself. The man, himself, seemed extraordinary to Nathan. Brother
Martin gave selflessly and continuously to everyone he met and knew in
that same irrational way. The old man should have found himself spent
of energy and life, but at the cost of these things, time, and worldly
possession, Brother Martin was returned ten-fold in vitality and joy
from an unknown source. It was undeniably infectious, to the point that
Nathan found himself aiding in charity beyond his own comprehension.
In some
ways, it was like Duty, which he understood and had been a part of his
entire life, but in others it was completely different. Brother
Martin's religion was both comforting and frightening... it was as if
the Order of the Tetragrammaton had been a lesser shadow or faded
reflection of what he was beginning to experience. Acting against his
own self interest following Brother Martin's example, required a
discipline wholly unknown to him and frustratingly difficult at
times... yet he continued to try.
One of the
things he aided Brother Martin with was the rehabilitation of Prozium
addicts. A bitter irony of the revolution was that many were now left
with a loss of purpose or incredible grief, driving them back to the
comfort that was Prozium. The leaders of the rebellion had always
taught restraint along with emotion, to prevent chaos, but nevertheless
there were those that swung to the opposite extreme of emotionless
stoicism.
Hedonists,
who lived only to feel, now found themselves seeking newer and more
dangerous highs. Those raised up to fight, burning with hatred for
Libria, found themselves still carrying the ashes inside. Others, with
loved ones sacrificed in the revolution, without the same conviction or
understanding of why they died, found themselves in sorrow. Many of the
latter two types preferred the emotional vacuum of Prozium to facing
their depression or grief. Prozium did not affect memory, so as soon as
the doses stopped, the painful emotions associated with the memories
returned. Hedonists, meanwhile, used 
Prozium as a drug to experience emotional
highs. As a result, Prozium was the only explicitly banned substance
under the provisional government.
The
penalties for Prozium usage usually required arrest and placement in an
interment camp, along with many of Libra's former civil servants,
police, and military. There was lip service to the idea of reforming
the prisoners, but little sympathy to those seen as traitors to the
human race. However, if admitted addicts turned themselves in, seeking
aid, there was the option of rehabilitation. Brother Martin's program
was one of a few trying to end their dependence on the drug.
Luckily,
addiction wasn't physiological but mostly psychological, but that was a
significant hurdle on its own. Nathan would sit in on counseling to
take notes and provide accountability as the elderly man talked the
addicts through their troubles. Psychology was one of the few rapidly
advancing sciences so the approach was fairly sound, the main
ingredient that made programs like Brother Martin's more successful was
the amount of care he showed each individual. He called it Love.
Something that Nathan couldn't begin to understand. Accountability was
extremely important, so those recovering stayed with Brother Martin in
the Catacombs for quite a while. Often, staying on to aid other addicts
or starting their own programs. The rebel cell structure carried over
to rehabilitation too.
Nathan found
the sessions to be a wealth of information. At first, he felt confused
as to why anyone would want emotion. From all the grief and pain he
saw, Prozium seemed to be the natural choice. But as they went through
the process, Nathan could see that the end result was a being, better
off and more complete than himself. He could see that his grasp of the
intuitive arts barely matched Brother Martin's capacity for sympathy
and compassion. At times he analyzed why he didn't find himself
yearning for Prozium and seemed content to struggle with his awakening
emotions. At first he told himself it was pragmatic. He couldn't
function with his cover amongst them without emotion... or pass the
regular polygraph checks, for that matter. As time passed, Nathan
realized, he wanted to be a whole person, like those who finished
rehabilitation.
Unlike the
addicts, Nathan had found his new state to be one of complete gain. He
had relationships with other humans that extended beyond antiseptic
function. The experience of emotion was overwhelming at times but
incredible. He remembered the first time he heard genuinely happy
laughter- not the bitter ones of sense offenders being interrogated.
The first time he was hugged. The first time his face smiled on its
own. The art, music, and books he had recently been exposed to
resonated in his being in a way that refused to be ignored. He couldn't
go back. On some level he understood how the Council members could be
hypocrites... just as he was.
And that
was Nathan's ultimate source of misery and restlessness. The lies.
Despite his new life, he was- and always would be- a Cleric. It was
inescapable. Everything he did now was artificial. Within him was deep
inset insecurity and paranoia as a result. A false front of happiness
came out when he was guilty and when that failed... anger. He had
snapped the other day at Jen for asking again about her father. Guilt
chewed him up as Jen cried, but what could he say... that he was likely
responsible for killing him? Brother Martin had covered for him, saying
that it was clear that he hadn't recovered from the attack yet, but
Nathan knew the truth. He could never receive the forgiveness and
redemption necessary for rehabilitation because he could never confess.
With the
exception of John Preston, all Clerics had been executed. There was no
forgiveness for Clerics. His intense feeling of selfishness and
self-preservation kept him from being able to fully embrace what
Brother Martin tried to teach him. The longer he stayed the more he
felt the condemnation of hypocrisy. So he was restless.
"Nathan, my
friend. How are you doing today?"
"Fine.",
Nathan said reflexively.
"You are,
'Fine.' eh? Just fine? Well, then, how can I make your day better?"
"Hah, I
should have known better. Don't worry about me, Brother Martin, I'm
doing great. Thanks for asking.", he adjusted his face to smile.
"You won't
get rid of me that easy. Nathan, my friend, I've seen you grow
increasingly unhappy of late."
"I'm a
killer, with no other purpose... I think it would be best if I just
leave."
"Nonsense,
you've been of great aid here, my friend. Your insight into the martial
mindset has helped in several sessions already."
"Your
right.", Nate decided to acquiesce and end the conversation.
"Still...
you've been here a while. I can see you've been wanting to get away. In
fact, you haven't been out of the Nether once yet, have you?"
"No, I
haven't back to Libria since-...."
"Then it's
settled. Tomorrow, we'll find you an apartment in the city and soon
after you'll start work."
"Work?" He
was surprised.
"The New
Republic is starting a ministry where I believe your talents would be
well served. A friend of mine, Tatiana Cassidy, made the
recommendation. If you're willing, you can meet with her tonight and
she'll walk you through the job."
"What will I
be doing?", Nate asked after recovering from the shock.
"Investigations
and mediation. You'll be helping to keep the peace since the old order
of police and military have been disbanded. The New Republic is worried
that martial law will tempt a coup with the current instability. But
because of that instability, they know they have to do something... so
they're taking a soft handed approach. A few pairs of peace keepers to
handle especially egregious situations versus men with automatic
weapons on every street corner. You'd be helping the citizens of the
New Republic and it would give you a chance to get out of here. Of
course, I'd hope you'd visit us on a regular basis. Are you interested?"
Nathan
nodded.
Next >>>
