Dominatus (8 page)

An older Black man raised his hand, patiently waiting for the opportunity to speak.

“Dr. Miller?  You want to say something?”

“Mac, I think we all just want to know how prepared we need to be now.  Are we looking at a worst case scenario here?  Invasion?  Attempted arrests?  Compliance trials?  Is that what we are dealing with?”

Several voices rose up to join the doctor’s question – many of them openly angry.

Again Mac raised his hands and waited for silence.

“Dr. Miller, I don’t know for certain.  But, I think it would be a good thing for us to be as fully prepared for that scenario, yeah.  I already issued the high alert yesterday, right?  So that’s what all of you should be doing.  In the end though it’s your choice how you want to prepare, how far you want to take those preparations.  We ain’t about telling you what to do up here…that’s why we all choose to call this place our home.  As for me, I’m going to be fully prepared.  I’ve been fully prepared. We have the cave on standby.  Worst case, that’s where I imagine a bunch of us will end up and from there…who knows?  If pushed, I’ll be putting up a fight, that’s for sure.”

Voices rose up in protest, and again Mac waited for them to quiet down.  One of the loudest came from a tall, thin woman with graying blonde hair that clung to the sides of her narrow face before spreading across the tops of her shoulders.

“That guest of yours brought trouble here Mac.  This is YOUR responsibility and YOU need to fix this.  Apologize for what happened yesterday and hand him over to the authorities and be done with it.  It’s not fair for you to bring this kind of trouble to us.  Not fair at all!”

Mac pointed to the woman before responding.

“If we hand him over to the New United Nations, why not hand you over too Stacy?  How many compliance violations are you involved in every day of your life up here?  Is that what we are about?  Isn’t that the kind of world we left when we made Dominatus our home?”

The woman Mac called Stacy remained undeterred in her anger.

“Bullshit Mac!  Bullshit!  You brought him up here and now we have Carol saying that they’re coming for us.  All of us!  That people are going to be killed!  Your behavior in this…all of this, it’s dangerous.  It’s unacceptable!  This place could be crawling with them by tomorrow.  And it’s your fault Mac!  Your fault!”

Dr.  Miller took a few steps toward the stage and similar to Mac, raised his hands to ask for silence. 

“Please everyone, we all know how much Mac has done to keep us safe over the years. While I don’t condone his behavior yesterday - you’re right to be concerned over that, Stacy, we are not about to turn people over to the N.U.N office simply because they came up here to visit our home.  If that is what we have become, then the reason for all of us coming here no longer exists.  And we have all known that some day they would try to shut us down…they threatened it just last year.  So please, let’s not eat our own out of fear.  We are better than that.  At least I pray we are better than that.”

Mac gave Dr. Miller a grateful nod and then continued.

“As I said, you have a choice about how much you want to prepare for worst-case.  Or you can leave.  That’s always an option as well.  Doctor Miller is right, we’ve been threatened before.  Many times.  And so far we’ve come out ok.  Maybe this time will be different – maybe not.  I just don’t know. None of us do.”

As the chorus of angry voices rose to fill the hall, drowning out Mac’s own attempts to speak, the door once again opened and the slight and bent figure of a very old man shuffled inside, his left handing holding onto the right arm of an attractive, olive-skinned woman of thirty or so years of age.  The sight of his entrance quickly quieted the room, as all eyes turned to face the most recent arrivals to the morning’s meeting.

Mac looked to me and was able to understand my question without my having so speak it.  He nodded his head slightly and then turned himself to follow the steps of the man and much younger woman as they made their way to the stage.

The Old Man had arrived.

Those gathered in the hall moved as one toward the Old Man, gently reaching their hands out to touch him as he slowly passed by.  The scene was one of near total reverence – almost messianic.  As for the Old Man, I knew his real name, having been told it by my father some years ago.

Alexander David Meyer was the last living member of a once-great global financial institution that dated back almost two hundred years – a family whose personal fortune was valued at nearly twenty billion dollars by the end of the 20
^th
Century.  In a world of secrets, power, and influence, Alexander Meyer had ranked among its greatest.

The man shuffling toward him now though, resembled little more than a shell of that former glory.  Alexander Meyer had been born in 1940 – a Jewish child within the crossfire hurricane of Hitler’s quest for global domination.  The Nazi tanks had rolled into his French village just days after his family had fled.  They were then forced to hide among friends in the southern regions of France before finally securing transport to New York.  Those of his family who remained behind were not so fortunate – many becoming victims of the Concentration Camps. Alexander David Meyer was a man well versed in the true costs of a tyrannical government gone mad.

Having made his way to the other end of the long hall and now standing at the foot of the short stage, the Old Man’s dark yet oddly bright eyes looked up to acknowledge Mac, before he shuffled away to look me over as well. 

“Is this our guest Mr. Walker?”

Mac nodded, seeming nervous in the presence of this diminutive, feeble little man.

‘Well then, I shall need a bit of assistance to make my way up these steps and afford me the opportunity to properly introduce myself to young Mr. Neeson.”

Mac quickly stepped down to the right side of the Old Man, while the younger woman remained on his left side and the two of them slowly guided Alexander Meyer up the three small steps to the top of the stage.  The effort left the Old Man slightly winded, and he took a moment to rest before turning to face the residents of Dominatus.

“I wish to make clear, to each of you, all of you who call this place our home…that the young man you see standing here alongside me today…is an invited guest.  Invited by myself and Mr. Walker.  This guest of ours is the son of a former friend to liberty, to freedom, to the America we…those of us old enough…the America we still remember.  The America that was a beacon of light and hope to not only its own people, but the people of the world.”

The Old Man’s voice, though clearly straining to be heard, rang forth with surprising strength, easily filling up the interior space of the operations center.

“All of us here, every single one, have made sacrifices.  We have lost family, friends, but we have not given in.  We have not given up.  Our willingness to fight, to remember what was and may someday be again, this is not in vain.  We do not turn out backs on those we call friend.  We live here in respect.  Respect for ourselves and of others.  So, I ask you to welcome young Mr. Neeson to Dominatus.  I ask, as a favor to me, that you afford him your kindness, your humanity, and your respect.  The very same respect I have shown each of you.  He is the equal to any of us, and deserves no less.”

As the Old Man’s words faded, the hall grew silent.  I looked upon the faces of those gathered, as they looked back at me.  The fear and apprehension that was so recently felt, seemed to have lifted.

Dr. Miller again spoke, greeting me now with a wide smile.

“On behalf of Dominatus, I welcome you, Mr. Neeson.”

The Old Man pointed a trembling hand toward the woman who had suggested handing me over to the New United Nations authorities.

“And what of you Ms. Carter?  Are you willing to afford young Mr. Neeson the same welcome I gave you not so long ago when you came to us seeking the opportunity to live your life in freedom away from the mandates?”

Stacy Carter looked down at the floor, shifting uncomfortably under the gaze of Alexander Meyer.  Her response, though barely above a whisper, was heard by all.

“Yes.”

The Old Man nodded approvingly, though the physical toll of his travel to the operation center, and the few words spoken to those gathered, resulted in his leaning even more heavily on the young woman beside him.  His breathing had become somewhat labored, and he closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to gather his strength before speaking again.

“I assure all of you, no danger is imminent.  Precautions, communications…have been taken to ensure that.  Carol Denny will not visit us again tomorrow, or next week.  Beyond that?  Beyond that, each day we have in freedom is a blessing is it not?  Let us be thankful for that, and not waste time in the creation of negative energy worrying over things… beyond our own control.  Young Mr. Neeson here, in his own way, his own very important way…is a soldier of liberty…and I invite him to stay, to observe, to question any of us who choose to answer, and to then communicate to the world there are those of us who have not forgotten the true America.  Those of us who have not yet bent completely to the will…of…of…the mandates.  Perhaps our story shall once again, light the fire of freedom for those still seeking the warmth of its truth.”

The Old Man then turned to me and took my hands into his own, his ancient face smiling up at me.

“This is my granddaughter Dublin…Dublin Nabiah Meyer - the last of my family.  She has been with me, assisting me here in Dominatus, for nearly ten years, and she can be your guide as you interview others.  She will show you our community, what we have truly accomplished here.  You can return to Mac’s residence, and she will arrive there shortly after.  Once you have spoken with the others, please feel free to visit me at my cabin and we will have our own conversation.  Is that acceptable to you Mr. Neeson?”

“Yes sir, and thank you.  Thank you for your kind words.”

“No Mr. Neeson, thank you.  Your time here is far more important than you may realize, God is not done with the world just yet, and each of us will play our part.”

Again my face betrayed my emotion – this time confusion over The Old Man’s words.

“Time enough for explanations later, Mr. Neeson.  For now, simply await Dublin’s arrival at the tavern.  Perhaps she will allow you the opportunity to interview her first.”

The Old Man’s eyes looked over at his granddaughter, a hint of mischief dancing within them.

Dublin regarded me for the first time and allowed the briefest of smiles.

“If it pleases you, Grandfather.”

Alexander Meyer stepped away from his granddaughter and once again faced those gathered in the hall, his hand now pointing to a small American flag that had been placed against the wall.  It too was devoid of the New United Nations emblem that the mandates now required of all U.S. flags.

“Let us say the pledge as the citizens of the United States once did.  We do so not out of a need to agitate the authorities, but rather to honor the country that was the home to a good and honorable people.  In my time, school children across the country began each school day reciting this pledge.  Then President Barack Obama, now the Great Consulate of the New United Nations, signed an executive order banning schools from requiring students to recite this very pledge.  History, the history approved by the mandates, ignores that moment.  For them, it does not exist.  For me, I mark that moment as a signal of what was soon to follow.  As each of us now understands too well, tyranny creeps before it overtakes.  And so, if you so choose, join me in reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.”

Every person turned to face the small flag of the old America.  I saw Mac’s hand cover his heart, and the hint of tears forming in the corner of his eyes.  Every voice then rose up to join with the Old Man’s – it was the first time I had heard the pledge publicly in over twenty years.

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

The Old Man then turned to make his way slowly down the steps of the stage and toward the exit at the other end of the hall.  As his feet shuffled slowly with each step, he smiled and nodded to those who gathered on both sides of him. 

“They really love him don’t they Mac?”

Mac too was following the Old Man’s departure.

“Yeah, we do.  And we want him to know that every time he makes himself available to us because we’re all well aware, it may be the last moment we have with him.  Without him there’s no Dominatus. Without him, there’s no us.”

VI.

Once again I sat in the confines of Freedom Tavern – this time waiting for the Old Man’s granddaughter to arrive.  It was nearly noon and Mac was preparing lunch for each of us behind the counter.

“So, what did you think of this morning, Reese?”

Mac continued working on the food, his eyes not looking up at me as he spoke, though I caught a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Well, interesting I guess.  Dr. Miller seemed nice.  I would like to speak with him again.  And meeting Mr. Meyer was amazing, after hearing about him for so long, to finally meet the man in person.  He really does seem to be a remarkable individual, though I’m amazed someone that old manages to make his way around a place like this.  It can’t be easy on him.”