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Corruption


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Written by Robert Quintin Penn   
Friday, 02 May 2008
 


They all marched in single file, two lines, both parallel to one another, grown men in white jumpsuits, matching featureless shoes covering their feet, not a single root of hair appearing on any spotless gleaming head. All were the same height, the same age. The hands were open, lacking something to hold. Each and every single one of them put their right foot in front of them, just as every single one of their peers did, arms swinging in synchronization. Suddenly the men at the front of both rows made a sharp turn in opposite directions. They were followed by the four men behind them, and then the next five would turn a foot behind the row in front. It was perfect. They knew how to situate themselves in order to allow maximum occupancy of the room, as well as good visibility of the platform jutting out from the wall.


Above them was a ceiling, sixty feet high, white, and nary a single light bulb in it, nor any air vents. In front of them, a white wall that went to the ceiling, except for one little square, thirty feet above them, eight feet across and eight feet high, that housed his platform. There was only one noise: the sound of the men strolling in at the end of the long single file lines, echoed throughout the area. Once stopped, each man looked directly at the empty platform, waiting for him to arrive. Not a word was spoken between them, not a breath taken through the mouth, not a twitch of the lips or of the nostril, they were perfectly synchronized. Although they stood in such formation, they were not standing stiff like a board, but were relaxed, the hands casually at their side. Not a single blinking eye...


The last two rows were made, except for an obvious absence of the last man at the rearmost left row. Only four stood there. At that time all noise ceased. Then the sound of a single pair of boots came to their attention. A big, tall man, with a full beard and long, black hair stepped forward onto the platform. Instantly, the entire assembly shouted, “Bravo bravo!” The black Ike jacket contrasted greatly with the white aura of the grand room, yet at the same time it seemed to blend in to the dim hall behind him.


“Your time has come!” he shouted, raising his right fist above his head, “The brotherly enemies of the east have brought up the ideas of war! Now we must prepare to meet their desire, and turn it into a wave of FEAR!” He slammed his fist down on the podium.


In the middle of the room, a man suddenly sneezed. An invisible tile in the wall slid up and a gun turret snapped into position, a single round pierced right between his eyes. Brain matter splattered the men in his radius, but they did not flinch.


“We cannot have any weakness amongst our ranks! We must out-number, out-produce, and out-gun our enemies. Either we succeed or we die, and we shall live forever!” He raised his open hands over his head, like the wings of an eagle.


“Today is our day. There will be no corruption. All traitors will be found and-” it was then that he noticed the open spot in the rear left. “Where,” he paused, “is he?!” the long, skinny index finger pointed forward.


Two quick footsteps alerted the dictator to his impending doom. Sure enough, number 911909, who had broken free of the suppression drugs and the daily conditioning, had come to take his life. He raised his arms as the now enlightened clone kicked him squarely in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards. The rail creaked as he fell over it, dropping the controller thirty feet to his death. Clones seemed to relax, as if awoken from a deep hypnosis. They began to look at one another, some with fear, others with excitement, and some still with sadness and anger. 911909 stepped up. “Brothers! We are free!”



Copyright 2008 Robert Quintin Penn

Tags:  Corruption dystopia

Comments (5)RSS feed comment
Posted by Zombie Punk
05-02-2008 20:36,
 
...
cool. wished there was so more back story but it was still a nice short read.  
brothers, we are free!
 
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Posted by The_Gimp
05-03-2008 07:13,
 
...
Yeah I feel the same, at first there was simply too much description for catching the interest of someone just browsing. But the rest was cool once the Dictator came in. I would suggest expanding the story and the action a little more and cutting some useless descriptions at the beginning. Then it would be perfect for a short story, if not, expand it and make it a few pagers, wrap it up in christmas gift paper and ring me back, I want to read that! ;) 
 
Very nice setting, feel and idea. Cheers mate!
 
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Posted by R.E.Potter
05-04-2008 10:49,
 
,,,
Nice idea. you have a great imagination for someone so young. The idea of brain washing has always intrigued me. I often wonder if my wife didnt slip me that same drug to get me to say I do.
 
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Posted by Something Indecent
05-06-2008 11:01,
 
...
yeah I agree with the Gimp. Tag on some hooks at the beginning to keep the attention and maybe shift some of that description inbetween the dialogue. Good story though. I like the part about the sneezer getting it between the eyes and noone flinching as gore splashes onto their faces. HA!
 
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Posted by Behind_the_Mask
05-08-2008 10:04,
 
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great story, i thought it was going to go on for a bit but it ended nicely.
 
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