Hereafter

Hereafter: Part II Graduation Day, Chapter 33

33

 

 

DROPPING DOWN ON US was an ominous looking police transport, painted in black-and-grey camouflage, snorting smoke and sparks like some mythical monster, and while descending began kicking up violent bursts of wind and dust that sent everyone nearby scattering for cover. Normally they would have gunned us all down, but the SMPs were greatly outnumbered by the crush of thousands upon thousands attending the Purimhalla and didn’t want to risk triggering a riot. Besides, the authorities wanted to put down our insurrection once and for all with a public trial and most likely some kind of brutal execution as a warning to anyone thinking about carrying on the movement. That meant I had to be taken alive. I was grabbed by four brutes and quickly wrestled into the transport.

As we rose up slowly over the Purimhalla festival grounds, it was hard for me to believe that just a few moments ago I was so happy about the progress we’d made introducing the Creator to our new friends. I knew I would most certainly not live much longer, but my only regret was in letting the Creator down after I’d been entrusted with so many gifts and so much responsibility. I banished any thoughts that I’d been abandoned by the Creator, instead I simply paused to give thanks for everything I’d been given believing that whatever may come, it was part of the Creator’s Purpose and Promise to help our world find the collective and communal joy in learning how to Love one another.

Seated near a window, I was amazed at the panorama of millions of Purimhalla revelers extending for miles up and down the shores of the Belayahan River. As the sacred waters flowed north and south, I could see streams of people flowing like schools of fish east and west both approaching and leaving the festival sites on the riverbank. I wasn’t sure where we were headed, but within 30 minutes by transport we’d reached the outskirts of the city, passing the ancient walls and right over the area where our caves were located. A few minutes later and the transport thrusters were kicking up gusts and debris just before landing in Raftalgar Square. That sent everyone there milling around scurrying to get out of the way.

I was shackled and violently dragged off to an interrogation cell stocked with the latest torture devices buried deep in the musty, dark, damp bowels of the old Justice Center building. Citadel Evening News cameras rolled, following me every step of the way. The orders had come down that this story was to saturate the media for days leading up to my very public execution. The live broadcast was immediately beamed throughout their television and radio networks preempting any ongoing programming.

“Breaking News . . . this just in, the authorities have flown a prisoner to the Justice Center who was arrested for witchcraft at an occult ceremony taking place at the Purimhalla festival. A woman, she will soon be interrogated, but preliminary reports are that she is directly related to the demonstration in Raftalgar Square and the proliferation of the five seditionist phrases that have been turning up everywhere since the demonstration. Here are some live shots of the prisoner being led to the lower cell block in the Justice Center. We should have the full story for you by the 10 o’clock broadcast. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.”

I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT, but strangely I was in a state of complete peace. I guess my faith was stronger than I realized. I was confident that no matter what happened to my body during the next few days, my soul would survive. My quiet prayerful meditation was interrupted when the cold stainless steel cell door slammed shut. An SMP interrogator came in along with two assistants and a cart full of torture tools.

“Our agent has confirmed the black magic that took place where at your direction something unwholesome was changed about the food being passed out. That alone would justify the your immediate execution, but if you will help us by simply giving us a few names, we might hold off on your sentence or perhaps even commute your death sentence to life in prison. Our agents have been analyzing the intel pointing to you being a person of interest in organizing the demonstration in Raftalgar Square as well as the proliferation of those subversive words that have been widely distributed. Now, we know you couldn’t have done all this on your own, so if you tell us who helped you, there needn’t be any unpleasantries here and we can let you join the other dissidents being detained in much better conditions. Just start saying their names and we’ll write them down for you.”