The World of NightsEnd

The Watchers ceased to exist on May 3, 2203. Originally organized as an arm of TruePath, the Watchers later withdrew in protest over supposed perversions of the one true faith within our great church. For one hundred years the Watchers served as a hindrance to the furtherance of TruePath unification. With the aid of the United Federation, the Watchers were finally eradicated in a raid on what many believe was the mythical Haven. Though his body was never recovered the last leader of the Watchers, known simply as “the Dreamer”, died in that raid thus ending a long line of subversives to the one true church.

TruePath News Vol.103 No.3

It was high noon by the time the GPP raid of Devil’s Canyon was over. Two punch tubes had disturbed the pristine peace of the place bringing destruction along with them. One deposited GPP troops on the far side of Heaven’s Gate while the other brought Franz Ruger and Alicia Farmington. Were they not so powerful, the pair would have actually made quite a comical couple.

Ruger stood with his back to the now secured punch tube dressed in the familiar all black of the GPP. Everything about him spoke of confidence and strength. He was six foot ten and a perfect a specimen of everything the Gene Pool Project stood for. His jet black hair blended into the equally dark hood that partially covered his head. Coal black eyes peered from a perfectly tanned face that belied its true age. Of course it didn’t hurt that Ruger was the Advisor, the supreme leader, of the Gene Pool Project. With their absolute control over a citizen’s identity the GPP was the most powerful force on the planet.

Alicia Farmington was the man’s physical opposite. Her diminutive size and apparent frailty might lead the uninformed to compare her to Ruger and deem her weak. Such miscalculations cost many a career and more than one life. Farmington stood fifty meters are so away from Ruger, her assistant ever present at her side. She was General Counsel of TruePath and leader of the Speakers. All within TruePath had a love-hate relationship with the Speakers. On the one hand it was an open secret that every Speaker was in the hip pocket of the GPP. But, on the other hand, their alliance with the United Federation ensured TruePath relative freedom to worship as it chose. That is as long as it didn’t impede the goals of the UF and GPP.

“I detest that man.” Farmington’s assistant glared at the Ruger as she spoke.

“One would do well to watch how they look at the Advisor Miss Lenning. Ruger has made people cease to exist for less than the little pleasure you just allowed yourself. Have you forgotten that we are not supposed to even know the position he truly holds?”

The assistance nodded and apologized.

“No, no apology needed. We share the same distaste for the man. I have simply learned how to avoid letting others know what I feel. You would do wisely to learn the same art.”

Again the assistant nodded and walked toward the GPP agents to see what they had learned. She spoke with her counterpart dressed in the black GPP uniform next to Ruger and returned a few minutes later. “They found Enoch on the peak over there. The GPP agent that found him said it was too much effort to bring the body down so he disposed of it there. I guess that brings the Watcher to and end at last.”

The Speaker stared toward the misty peak of Heaven’s Gate and muttered; “You would know he would go and die on a place by such a name.” She thanked the aid and headed back toward the GRAV-LEV entrance only recently blasted through the floor of the canyon.

Ruger strode over with a swagger as big as his frame and looked down at Farmington. His contempt for the religious leader was hardly hidden. “Well, General Counsel, it looks like we have lain to rest this Haven of yours.”

She may have looked inferior to Ruger but Alicia Farmington feared no man. She stared back up at him, her blue eyes blazing. “Perhaps, Advisor Ruger. Only time will tell. It will take more than your jackboots to convince me of that.”

Ruger’s rigid features camouflaged his own emotions with a precision matching the woman glaring up at him. Ruger ran the tip of his tongue to wet his lips and parted a snake like grin. “If you’re brother was not Secretary General of the United Federation you know you would be foraging for acorns in one of the banned cities.”

Farmington smiled back. No one ten feet away would have ever guessed the venom being passed between the two. “And if doing so would rid TruePath once and for all of you heavy hand, I would welcome their taste.”

The two eyed each other for another few seconds and then laughed a nervous laugh. The kind of laugh that thieves share at a poker table when one has accused the other of marking the cards. And then the tension abated.

“What causes you to doubt so that this is Haven?” asked Ruger.

“Because, there is no such place. Haven is just the empty hope of restless people. They are always looking for a savior when they should look to themselves instead.”

One of Ruger’s aides ran up whispering something in his ear before backing away nervously. Ruger’s smile had soured into a distinct frown. He looked past Farmington in the direction of the peak beyond her. “They didn’t find your dreamer’s body,” he whispered matter-of-factly.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying they found an empty robe, sandals, and a staff. But they found no body.”

Alicia Farmington’s hands trembled and her shoulders fell. “But he couldn’t survive up there without clothes or a staff. He’s at least eighty years old and as far as we know never had any genetic improvements. No, he’s dead.”

Ruger shrugged and turned to walk back toward the GRAV-LEV entrance. Without bothering to look back, he shouted; “Maybe he is and maybe he isn’t. Either way, he’s a legend now. Too bad; men you can erase, legends you cannot.”

An hour later Alicia Farmington sat with her assistant in her private tube car as the GRAV-LEV shot them back to Spokane. She gazed out the window of the car at the beauty of the Idaho and then Oregon landscape forgetting for a moment that none of what she saw real. In truth she was looking at vid images projected on the car windows from the World Net database. Tube cars hurtled through GRAV-LEV tunnels bored deep beneath the earth’s surface. Had she really been looking out the window she would have seen endless miles of gray rock. Years of experience however, had proven hours of staring at nothing made people claustrophobic.

What the Speaker was looking at was as contrived as the religion she claimed to be the one true faith. Even more ironic was the fact she knew it. All Speakers did. Let the Keepers insist on an after-life and eternal damnation. She knew the truth. This is all there is. Therefore it was also best to make what alliances one could, maintain one’s own position, and hope for the best.

Disregarding her word to Ruger, Farmington snapped her finer; “ “Miss Lenning.”

“Yes General Counsel?”

“Send a message on WorldNet to every local Speaker. Embed it within the monthly financials. Add this one sentence at the end of the second paragraph.”

Some dreams never die.

The assistant complied in spite of the fact she obviously had no idea what the message meant. But like Farmington, every Speaker would understand perfectly. The dreamer from afar was coming. And they must find that dreamer before he or she could do too much damage. Their very existence depended on it.

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NightFall: Second Revision July 2008

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