Wrath and Love

Wrath and Love: Chapter Two

From the headquarters of the United Nations in New York, World President, Pepito Diablo, had taken his personal jet to Arizona, where Work Camp Thirty-one happened to be located. His limo came to a stop at the gated entrance for check-in, and he smiled at the sight.

Behind chained and barbed fences, five tall vertical farms rose up above the large prison-like building in the middle that housed a few thousand enemies of the State. If he remembered correctly, this camp had been one of the first to use vertical farming to produce healthy, organic foods at all new levels of efficiency. Thanks to his agricultural plan, those same farms were now fairly common all over the continent and a few others as well. The prisoners produced more than enough food for themselves, with surpluses left over for legal citizens as well. Still, even with these efforts, the planet still needed to lose roughly fifty percent of the current population sometime within the next generation or so.

The guards waved him through and the driver let him out at the front office, where he was met by a one of his top adviser's, a chubby, balding, middle-aged man who had carried the name “Karl” for several lifetimes now. Two other men accompanied him as well, but Pepito couldn't place them. There were far too many camps by now for him to personally keep up with them all. They all bowed to him respectfully, and although he excepted as much, he ignored the sign of reverence in favor of getting straight to the reason that he had just blown off all prior commitments to fly halfway across the New American Union. “Karl, I hope you have good news for me.”

“Of course, President Diablo.” The man smiled nervously before looking to one of his companions. “This is Commandant Benedict.”

“President Diablo, Sir, Your highness. It is such an honor to make your acquaintance again. You probably don't remember, but I was chosen for this position personally by yourself and-”

Pepito had to force back an eye roll, instead giving the dark-haired man a brief nod. “Commandant.” He had “personally hired” so many people for various jobs that if he added up all their interviews, he would have had time for little else during the last year. In all probability, his fifth secretary had chosen this guy from a stack of resumes without ever even laying eyes on him. He sent Karl an impatient look. The bastard had better not be stalling for time to make up an excuse for another fucking mistake.

“Uh,” Karl stammered as he dug deep into his leather satchel, “here it is.” He finally pulled out a clip board bearing several stapled sheets of recycled waste paper: the file of the potential incarnation. “I was called here after an escape attempt. As you know, Sir, this facility produces androids. Well, some of them, the androids, were programed to be...umm...independent,”

“Quite against camp regulations, I assure you!” the Commandant cut in at the President's glare.

“As I was saying,” the middle-aged man continued, “those androids helped in the escape attempt, which was partly successful.” His speech pattern sped up as his boss's temperature rose even more. “Don't worry, though, we still have the suspect in custody! But the point is that his report shows a definite pattern of mostly passive defiance since his arrival a little over a year ago. There are reports of his...”, he looked to the papers, “interfering in the discipline of other inmates, spreading discord and rebellious thinking, and during the escape, he is said to have healed another man of a gunshot wound. It cost him is own escape.”

His growing impatience with the unveiling incompetence in his underlings grew into a hopeful smirk at the last words. “Impressive. If it's true. Did we capture the other man?”

“Negative, Sir,” the Commandant answered in a gruff voice that suggested he had served in the army before his current station, “But, Guard Rayer here claims that he personally shot the man in the knee cap. His marksmanship record is impeccable.”

The young, lanky blond bowed once again. “That's right, Commandant! And I swear I heard the prisoner's bone shatter!”

“Did you see it healed as well?” Pepito raised a brow.

“Not...exactly. But it would have been damn hard for the pointy-haired freak to run outta here and make it over the fence with a broken kneecap!”

A tan hand rose to massage the same brow. More incompetence! “So basically, I'm here because of a possible healing? You do know that such miracles are not relegated to the Christ, correct?”

This time Karl did roll his eyes. “Do you think that I don't know that, Pep-President Diablo? I wouldn't have called you had I not thought that the situation merited doing so. As soon as I arrived, I had the suspect's aura scanned.”

“And?”

“And he has one of the most intense, golden halos I've ever come across. As well as a good deal of indigo.” Karl pulled a copy of said scan from the clipboard, passing it to his pupil-turned master.

Pepito's eyes widened when they fell to the picture in hand. “This is bigger than all of the others.” “The others” were a collection of possible vessels that were kept in his own private holding cells at most of his homes. His father had told him that it was going to be near impossible to know for certain which one would be chosen until the transition actually took place, but there were signs that only a very, very small percentage of the population held, and they were currently being lain out before him in this... “What's his name?”

“Prisoner number 1-8-3-5-5, Sir. He was found with no identification. Reported name is Mr. Jay Scolex.” Benedict struggled slightly over the last name.

His lips pursed slightly and Pepito tapped a nail against the photo. That name sounded vaguely familiar, but from where? “Is he ready for inspection?”

“Yes, my Lord. I made the call to have him ready and in center court as soon as your plane landed.”

“Good. Let's go and see him then, shall we?”

The court yard, a few plush, green acres of land that had to be water several times a day, lay in the very center of the Work Camp, surrounded on all sides by the prison itself. A trip to the court yard was the only outside exposure that those working in most of the camps were granted, and it was a privilege that had to be earned. Its existence was a testament to the generosity of the New World Government. Or at least that's what it was supposed to be to the prisoners. In actuality, Pepito knew that it had been implemented because if he wanted as many souls as possible to belong to him and his father, it was best to maintain a balance between punishments and rewards. It had only been a year. Many of these people could still be attained, but not if all of their negative assumptions about his Regime were confirmed by mistreatment.

He walked over a dirt track that circled the area and his attention was directed past the basket-ball court, past the shade trees to center of the ranks of proud guards that stood in lines on both sides of a nondescript man with medium long, dark brown hair. As he and his small entourage drew closer, it became clear that the man wasn't in the best of shape. He was overly thin and unwashed, but that was the least of his problems. There were bruises and cuts covering his exposed arms and chest and he was being held up by two guards, heavy shackles connecting his ankles and wrists respectively.

They finally stopped in front of the prisoner, and Pepito's eyes ran him up and down before he let out a deep sigh. “I am assuming that these damages were accrued during the escape attempt.” His orders were simply to detain potential vessels, but by the time he arrived on the scene, his people had usually had a go at them already. Not that the thought of the Christian “God's” own creations inflicting suffering and humiliation upon his own favorite son brought any tears to his eyes. But he needed these people alive!

“Yes, Sir.” Commandant Benedict smiled a shit-eating grin that said otherwise, which grew as a few of the guards complemented with knowing laughter.

Pepito's eyes narrowed, but he didn't press the matter. Instead he stepped closer to the filthy captive. “You... Scolex, look at me.”

The man's head remained bowed and he refused to speak a word to the Antichrist.

His voice became sharper and his eyes narrowed even more. “I said look at me! Do you hear me, slave? This is no time to be stubborn! None of your comrades in arms are here to witness and be inspired, and unlike the guards here, I do have the authority to do whatever it takes to get your attention.”

When the man still didn't move, Pepito reached out to turn his chin up so that they were face to face, pushing the dirty hair out of his countenance. “I hope, for your forsaken fate, that you're deaf, because I'm willing to bet that I am more creative that this lot.” The man's lips were split and coated in dried blood and there was an ugly bruise on his jaw. His blacked eyes were still downcast, but there was something about them. Something...familiar. That light...

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How he loved that light. It was almost as if the boy's eyes were a mix of milk chocolate and honey, all lit up by an invisible sun that seemed to come from within, especially when he was writing.

The boy looked up from his notebook, pencil paused in mid-word. “Pepito, why are you staring at me like that?”

Across the study-hall table, Pepito was shocked out of his contemplation of the other's eyes, only then realizing that, yes, it was kind of an odd thing to do. “No reason, Amigo.”

“Well, quit it.” The boy half smiled. “It's kind of unnerving.”

He returned the smile, propping an elbow on the table and his chin on his hand. “Is that good or bad?”

A loud smack resounded throughout the room when a yardstick struck the table beside the other boy and a slithery, all too snake-like teacher barked for them to keep it down or be doomed to detention.

They both had to stifle laughter as she walked away.

“Pep, don't you have work to do?”

“Well,...technically.” He gave his math book a sad look. He always had math homework. “But it's so boring. And you're not doing it.” He had arranged for the two of them to have all but one class together that year.

“I finished it last period...during the lecture on the 'discovery' of the New World. While you were flirting with that girl with the frizzy hair.”

“Ah. Can I, uh, look over it?”

The boy sighed as he dug his textbook from a worn backpack, sliding it across the table. “You're so lazy. Fine, you can copy it, but you better really check for mistakes too.”

Pepito rolled his eyes. “Don't I always?”

“No. No, you don't. And it's a little suspicious when we both have the same wrong answers.”

“Heh. Well, this time I will and I'll correct yours as well, but you have to keep me entertained.” He pulled a calculator from his own bag. “Tell me about what you're writing.”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because everyone laughs when they read my stories, even the people who can't really even read.”

Another smile. “They're all idiots.”

“That's not very nice.” But Todd was smiling too. “So, there was this computer named Mr. Scolex-

“A computer with a name?” At least the name was funny.

“An A.I. with a name. So, anyway, Mr. Scolex eventually becomes too sentient and...”

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The President leaned closer, heart beating loudly in his own ears. “Todd?” Suddenly, the last year of no correspondence made perfect sense. This had to be a mistake.

There was a small hint of recognition, but the man did not react.

“Unchain him.”

The guards exchanged a look of mild confusion as they obeyed the command, unlocking the shackles and letting the weak prisoner fall to knees on the hard concrete slab. There were a few chuckles from the surrounding followers, who must have been expecting some display of degradation.

“Lift him up.”

The same two guards instantly pulled the prisoner to his feet roughly, hands under his armpits.

Despite the disgust that the oily skin produced, Pepito's hand was back on that face. It felt almost clammy, but was still moist with sweat. “Todd, do you know who I am?” They were closer now, and he could see that the large, brown eyes were dilated. They met his own for a moment, but wouldn't seem to stick. “Did you give him anything?”

“Give? He's been in isolation for two days.”

Pepito's hand moved down to the pale neck, checking the pulse rate. “I mean drugs. Is he on anything?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then he's in shock.” He pulled away from the other, giving Benedict a look that had never boded well for anyone. The Hell-fire was probably showing again, but it hardly mattered. It wasn't something he had to hide anymore. “Karl, see that he is taken to the medical ward for treatment. I want him cleaned and ready to go in an hour. Is that clear?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Karl shallowed thickly before turning to the two guards that held Todd, his memory of just how important that person had once been to Pepito flooding back in an instant. “You two will come with me. You will gently carry the prisoner to the medical ward. Now!” One fierce glare and they jumped to his command, filled with what he was sure was gratitude for not being left alone with the Antichrist at that moment.

Fists clenching into tight knots, Pepito watched until they had entered the building before turning slowly back to the others. “Guards are dismissed, back to your posts. All except for Rayer. And you, Mr. Benedict. I would like to talk about giving you a well deserved promotion.”

Seconds later the tormented, hellish screams could be heard throughout the whole of the enormous facility.

End Chapter Two

Notes:

Notes:

--Vertical farms are awesome: http://www.verticalfarm.com/

--Interpretations of Christ that are/may be contributing to this story (more will be added as needed):
-Rosicrucian
“For the Rosicrucians there is a distinction to be made between Jesus and the Christ.[6] Jesus is considered a high Initiate of the human life wave (which evolves under the cycle of rebirth) and of a singularly pure type of mind, vastly superior to the great majority of the present humanity.
“They believe he was educated during his youth among the Essenes and thus prepared himself for the greatest honor ever bestowed upon a human being: to deliver his pure, passionless, highly evolved physical body and vital body (already attuned to the high vibrations of the 'Life Spirit'), in the moment of the Baptism, to the christ being for his ministry in the physical world. Christ is described as the highest spiritual being of the life wave called Archangels and has completed his union ("the son") with the second aspect of God.”
-Gnostic
“The gnostics generally believed not in a Jesus who was a divine person with a human form, but in a spiritual christ who dwelt in Jesus. Through the spiritual path of gnosticism, followers of these schools believed that they could experience the same knowledge, or gnosis. Gnosticism, a non-hierarchical interpretation of the Christian message, was declared heresy by the formal, hierarchical Christian church at the first Ecumenical Council, which occurred at Nicaea in 325 A.D., although condemnation of such beliefs were held by orthodox church leaders for some time.
“Gnostic texts with Jesus Christ include the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Mary, and many more which have been discovered throughout the centuries.”
-Hindu View
“In Hinduism, God is often described by both personifications (deities), which are manifestations of particular aspects of God's power, and incarnations (avatars) of God in mortal form, as in case of Siva or Vishnu. In these religions "the christ" is akin to these personifications. A.C Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, who coined the phrase 'Krsna Consciousness', held Jesus' teachings as non-different from the Hindu, Vedic scriptures, and others such as Paramahansa Yogananda often wrote about a "Christ Consciousness" interchangeably with "Krsna Consciousness."”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christ#Christian_views
--Todd was in emotional, not medical shock: http://www.mental-health-matters.com/disorders/dis_details.php?disID=1

-- Mr. Scolex is one of JV's pseudonyms. I believe it is listed in the IZ credits as voicing Zim's computer.

--The android manufacturing has a point and is inspired by the fourth point of the Five Point Plan (my college has one of those...and sometimes they call it The Master Plan) of the Church of Satan as explained by Magus Peter H. Gilmore in Satanism: The Feared Religion, which can be found on their website under “theory and practice” (http://www.churchofsatan.com/home.html):

“Fourth, Satanists advocate a new industry, the development and promotion of artificial human companions. These humanoids will be constructed to be as realistic as possible, and available to anyone who can afford one. Recognizing that the human animal often raises himself up throught the denegration of another, this would provide a safe outlet for such behavior. Have the lover of your dreams, regardless of your own prowess; every man a king who can purchase his own subject; or contrarywise, buy the master you wish to serve. Freedom of choice to satisfy your most secret desires with no-one to be bothered is now at hand. What could be better for blowing-off the tension that exists throughout our society, and promoting healthier interaction among true humans?”

---I don't own Pepito and Squee or any other JV characters...or Karl Rove (I must have some sort of sick obsession to include him so much).

--Thanks to everyone who has reviewed (especially :iconDesdemonaKakalose: and :iconShiiLovesHim:) for inspiring me to keep writing this! And the song Viva la Vida by Coldplay (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5I3RPbS8aI).