A Tale of Blue - Not sure if this belongs here.

[Raylen]

This is one of my projects, but it's not a fanfic. It's just fiction that I am writing. I will usually keep you 3 or 4 chapters behind.

 

The protagonist is a high-profile thief, in an new world era. The entire military-industrial complex is ruled by religion, religion is king. Non-believers are treated as sub-humans, and forced to live in poor sectors of the country, separated from the rest of society. Even worse, the religious government carries out cruel punishments and abuses women. It's not right, it's not just, but is there an alternative? After the devastating failure of democracy? Can you believe in yourself that democracy right and fundamentalism is wrong, amid a maze of extreme complexity?

 

© Raelen Riflen 2010.

 

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[spoiler= Prologue]

It is human nature, to ponder on certain questions. Most importantly, questions like where did we come from? At the dawn of history, or even before that, humans looked to the stars to try to answer their dying questions. They seemed to provide answers, and as we looked at them more and more, we made conclusions, that we believed to be true.

 

Over the meandering river of civilization, humans were united by these conclusions. However, as humans began to answer these questions, the roles of the stars played less and less.

 

We were civilized. We understood the world and its inner workings. But, what if, by some cruel twist of fate, we reversed the roles? For one, it is impossible to solve certain problems, or it is impractically difficult. Once humans begin to give up, they will look to the stars again. This time, it will be without the rosy glasses that we unknowingly put on before.

 

We are all human beings, no one is perfect.

 

 

[spoiler=Chapter 1 - Dynamics]

One thousand days to prepare for one, a deed shall be done.

 

A thousand ways to get the deed done, one will only pick one.

 

The deed was done. The pain was surreal. The book dropped with the blood. I could just feel the vibrations of the red fluid upon the floor. At least – this was private. I did not cry out, for I had vowed not to. I felt that I was in another world, it was all too unreal.

 

I could take it. I stand the pain! The pain was after all, God’s will, but I believe in no god. After the sharp blast of pain, it dulled and my mind eased a bit.

 

This was a new era. The third age of enlightenment, the world is unified by corruption. Such corruption was also the will of God. So too were the laws. These new laws governed all parts of life; it had been the perfect marriage between religion and government.

 

It held a communist-like grip on society. The good thing was, the punishments were quick, just a few minutes. It was preferable to wasting years, and possibly a lifetime in jail, under the old system. The punishment, according to them, was too the will of God. A god that explicitly said humans are not created equal.

 

With technology, there were virtually no long term consequences. The pain in the short term is durable. For what is this, that I, a mere child, can endure without barking? Some people argue such laws are corrupt – it is. Others, named collectively as the “left-wing”, thought it was cruel.

 

Humans optimize, they adapt. Take as an imaginary example, in the First Global Conflict, when you stuck an infantryman in a trench. In few months time, vermin become comrades, and comrades become vermin.

 

Some things are just fundamentally wrong, like the leftist ideology. The “left wing” wasted scarce resources to help those who have gone too far, those unable, and those who cannot contribute. Squandered our former greatness, squandered our great fortunes, now we are in ruins. Human kind is now equal, as they wanted. All of us are equal in misery.

 

The present state of humanity – we are controlled by religion, controlled by our own fear of the dark. We cannot solve our own problems, so we ran to the light, and so willingly, the light took us.

 

And the “left-wing”? Inexistent. Slaughtered or defected.

 

My thoughts were abruptly disrupted. Another furious explosion of pain, the wound was cleaned with Iodine, and the chemical burned. Next the hot iron to seal the wound. Another jolt sprayed my nerves, but I vowed not to open my mouth.

 

“Now boy, close your eyes,” came the ever monotonous voice of the bailiff. I complied. I did not like being called a boy, I was sixteen years old.

 

Their intent was to leave a visible everlasting mark. Everlasting, that’s what mattered. Like a scar, it was meant to tarnish – whatever it might be, trustworthiness, reputation, and honor. They kept criminal records this way. They made marks, the permanent lines that they drew upon the body.

 

To a criminal, to be branded with a mark is a statement of failure.

 

I heard the dipping of the knife in dye. It was always made on the right side of the face, the chemical composition of the dye made it impossible to remove. Everyone’s mark was unique. This intrigued me – how everyone stayed unique despite the fact they kept no records.

 

One or two quick cuts to open the flesh. The dye followed the course of the knife.

 

I felt the knife dig its course, at bullet like speeds. It hurt, then came the second. The smell of blood was overwhelming. The good thing was, it was finished, and the deed was now done. It carved one mark through the middle of my right face, from the forehead down, another across my cheek. It had always been the right side of your face.

 

Warm liquid oozed. The sadistic fingers of the bailiff fingered the wound. He pressed it, as if to cause me pain intentionally. I let him, normally I would not.

 

I waited until the bandaged the wound, which they did with great velocity. I reopened my eyes. I did not take a look at the wound, but I knew. My right hand, was clutching the holy book, and on the ground. My right arm was on the block, about two feet above. My arm was connected to my body sitting on a chair, but the same thing cannot be said for the hand.

 

Then there was the other wound, across my face, the mark.

 

The punishment for a thief – the hand that steals must be cut off.

 

However, I did not steal for the sake of doing so. I did enough of that already. I had to steal to keep that promise that I made.

 

Thievery wasn’t like antiquity, where it was simple to hold a gun to someone’s head and say “give me all your money.” If you did that today, a random combination of security bots and slash or automatic rifles will gun you down within seconds.

 

Thievery had become an art, an art of deception, trickery, and chance.

 

Technology was at fault. With new paradigms, humans must live up to them. Everything changes. Take another example, more than a hundred years ago, the Second Global Conflict. Now we can satisfy our demonic bloodlust by a simple pushing of a red button. Such technology is obsolete now. Artificial Intelligence, Cyber Warfare, Satellite and Lunar Warfare have long replaced them.

 

War is no longer about people. After all, one person is just property of a family. That person creates such a small fraction of another country’s production that it’s not worth killing them.

 

It is unwise to think about the past, at least this way.

 

With technology, thievery, or criminals in general, became a unionized profession. Thieves were divided into cooperating clans and guilds, in the great underground city of Roux. We networked ourselves, swore ourselves oaths, and for we knew, to betray another criminal is to betray all of them.

 

We knew, we must all hang together, or we will hang separately. It was easy to catch a single criminal and hang him.

 

The red streaks ran wild on my face. Attempting to correct it, I looked for something to press on the wound. Not bothering to ask, I used my left sleeve, and I saw, the red color slowly leech into my shirt, dying it red.

 

Then the bailiff grunted, “Dismissed.”

 

I got up from the chair, pushed the door with my left hand. I walked through the hallway, into the reception. The secretary shot me a look, which I returned with my menacing blue eyes. She returned to work. I pushed open the door with my left hand and took a breath of air.

 

I began my walk to home. Through the desert road, into the poorest districts, set aside for those who refused to believe in God. Or those who weren’t afraid of the dark.

 

Religious law did not apply to just us, it applied to everyone. Such law is black and white. Like the religion, people were objects, or property of their respective families. It favored repayment and progress. A more blunt way to summarize the system would be, “Make them happy and let them get on with their lives or else we kill you.”

 

It is a mistake to think, despite the cruel perks, that this system is cruel. It is just simply one of the many possible ways to approach law. A code of laws is subject to Darwin’s Theory of natural selection. Anything that doesn’t work does not exist.

 

My name is Tristan, L’Enfant de tristesse – the child of sadness. I am the master thief of Roux. In a society run by fundamentalists, structured by Darwin’s ideas, with the world in marred by disaster and war. I’m pleased to be at your service.

 

 

[Kaisu]

One thing. Your paragraphs are too short =\

[Raylen]

One thing. Your paragraphs are too short =\

 

Can you post something that doesn't take ten seconds to realize for a +1 post count?