En Dieu, la liberté
Visit to hell by Mexican artist Mauricio García Vega.
.:.
Prologue
Lightning Crashes
Nous sommes quatre nations
Visit to hell by Mexican artist Mauricio García Vega.
.:.
Prologue
Lightning Crashes
Nous sommes quatre nations
• • • † • • •
Thursday, 12th July 2018 | 21:30 hrs [UTC-5]
Saint-Laurent, Gulf of Gonâve | SLS Marseille
18° 52' 25" N, 72° 37' 20" W
The Gulf of Gonâve was as smooth as glass on what had turned out to be a warm but comfortably breezy, July evening. An earlier thunderstorm had cleared out and left the night sky cloudless though it was also moonless, casting a curtain of thorough and inescapable darkness onto the gulf and where the Marseille was anchored some six hundred meters from the beach, the sky above was bright with millions upon millions of stars. There was little light pollution at her present location, Saint-Artois being over the horizon some forty-something kilometers away and the twinkling lights from a nearby beach resort hardly enough to dispel the beauty of the sky above, which included the Milky Way's Galactic Center, a gorgeous band of stars, dust, colors, and so many other objects wrapping across the sky.
A breeze came, rolling gently over the starboard side of the yacht and continuing onward, giving form to the otherwise motionless water beneath the 3,000-ton, 18-cabin Marseille, the official yacht of the government of the République de Saint-Laurent. The yacht was sizeable, hardly the largest in the world but certainly impressive. It had a length of 91.4 meters, a beam of 14.5 meters, drafted 4.15 meters, and it had been built in 2005, refitted recently in 2015. It had cost the government approximately ¢109 million to acquire in the first place and the refit had cost another few million but it was worth it in the end, or so those who got to enjoy it thought. Being property of the Saint-Laurentian government, the yacht itself was usable by the Président and Vice-Président as well as certain, more senior Sénateurs of the Sénat de Saint-Laurent. It could be used to entertain foreign dignitaries, which was its typical mission, or to provide occupants with a vacation.
Onboard the Marseille presently was the country's leader, Président Mandel Dubois, who normally spent the month of July aboard the vessel with his family. The Président and the Vice-Président each had their own official residence as well as two secondary residences, one on the island of Cuba and the other on the island of Jamaica. Each was sure to spend time at the various residences and typically when one was on one island, the other was somewhere else. The RSL was one nation at the topmost level but when you drilled down below the surface you quickly found out that the country was ethnically made up of three groups. Despite this, the French ethnicity remained the dominant even if it wasn't the majority, perhaps a sore point to the country's demographics but there was no such thing as a perfect utopia; so why should the RSL be held to another standard?
Back aboard the Marseille, Dubois was sitting, rather lounging, on the vessel's stern, his reading glasses perched on his nose and a bestseller in his hands. The government of Saint-Laurent largely took July and August off insofar as a legislative capacity and for the executive branch, there were only so many reasons to remain in Saint-Artois. Presently the Vice-Président, Hugh Parizeau, was in Saint-Girardeaux, the largest city and capital of Saint-Robert, formerly and once known as Havana and Cuba, respectively. If Dubois needed to return to Saint-Artois for a meeting he could do so via helicopter for the Marseille had a helipad and a Dauphin was always at the ready to fly out and fetch him.
Right now, the yacht was quiet. Dinner had been served and the 46-year old leader's three children were being bathed. He had two daughters, aged six and five and one son, aged three. He had high hopes for all three of them as did his wife, a woman six years his junior named Sandrine. She'd been friends of the family and when Sandrine had turned sixteen, Mandel had grown a fancy for her. They started dating when she started university and were married shortly after she completed her four-year degree. Beyond the immediate family of Dubois there were also several high-level staffers and their families present so that the yacht was playing guest to a full load of thirty-six. Each of the eighteen cabins was filled and the yacht's 36-man crew was ever busy.
After long days of work, because even though he was on "vacation," he was still working, nights such as these were entirely pleasurable. The day's itinerary had seen the yacht take in at an otherwise unoccupied beach so that the wives, children, and other family members could enjoy a day in the sun. The thunderstorm had brought them back earlier than expected but it wasn't as if the yacht didn't have amenities to keep them occupied. The children were sent to watch a movie while the adults found time for massages or workouts, drinks at the bars or the Jacuzzis, or sunbathing on the topmost deck. Sunbathing, in particular, was quite a topic amongst the wives and family members because one of Dubois' aides, a young 25-year old, had brought his girlfriend along with him and she was every bit of the woman someone described as "arm candy" would be and for the wives, who were older and disconnected by one or two generations, her mannerisms and skimpy bathing suits were certainly a faux pas. Yet, despite this, she was remarkably good with the children, having come from a family of eight with herself being the oldest by fifteen years.
Her name was Marine and presently she was in the gym running on the treadmill. Her boyfriend, Lambert Eiffel, was sitting one deck above Dubois working on a few memos with a drink resting on the table. He was young but his work ethic was remarkable, which was precisely why Dubois had invited him aboard the yacht for the month. For aides and staffers, being invited was a privilege that one could very easily lose if they weren't diligent enough in their work or important enough in their role. These two men, separated by a deck, had little knowledge of the other's presence until a very loud and deep boom rolled across the water and past the boat, shaking some of the windows and garnering everyone's attention.
The sound had come from the beach, six hundred meters away, where the muffled screams and laughter of raucous tourists played for some sort of background noise whenever the wind shifted favorably. The noise startled Dubois and Eiffel and both looked up with a start towards the beach. Eiffel though was the vocal of the two, having dropped his drink onto his papers and let out a profanity-laced tirade that was easily audible to Dubois one deck below. In French, as this was the national language of the country, Dubois looked up and over the side and said, "Lambert, is that you?"
"Yes sir," Eiffel said as he came to the edge and looked down, "I apologize for the profanity sir."
"What happened?"
"I unfortunately spilled my drink onto those papers from earlier."
At his misfortune, Dubois began to chuckle. Eiffel laughed uneasily, being the bearer of said misfortune, "Well I suppose they can wait just a little while longer. Now what was that sound?"
"It came from the beach, like an explosion," with both of their attention, a second sound came but not before a bright flash filled the beach. The second sound rumbled past the yacht just as forcefully as did the first. "It must be a cannon of sorts."
"It must be," Dubois said, "I suppose some party they're throwing. Why don't you bring those papers down here and get yourself another drink. That seems to have disturbed by concentration and I have some questions for you."
"Right away sir," Eiffel said. One of the ship's crewmembers was already working on cleaning up the mess and Eiffel leant a hand, grabbing another towel to clean up the mess and blot the cushion on the chair.
"That is okay sir, we'll have it washed," the young lady was saying, blushing that one of the guests should be doing work. Of course, that wasn't how Saint-Laurentians were raised and had Eiffel not gone to help he would have felt a prickling on his neck as his departed grandmother looked down upon him disapprovingly. She was already disapproving of his choice for affection but she didn't have total control over his actions, or so he liked to think.
Minutes later, Eiffel was seated opposite Dubois with the papers drying to his right and a refilled cocktail to his left. Across from him, Dubois had been given a cocktail and was sitting with his legs crossed, looking out towards the beach behind Eiffel. "Those Margraves have certainly made themselves at home there," he said, pointing with his glass in his right hand.
"That resort was certainly controversial, I thought it would end Fournier's career."
"Nonsense," Dubois waved. Dubois had been Vice-Président to Fabrice Fournier and a loyal adherent to Front Saint-Laurent, the sitting party in power. A conservative, right-wing party, the FSL had been in power since May 1988 when scandal ousted Émilie Lajeunesse, the country's first female Président and the only member of Parti Socialiste, a center-left party, to be elected Président. Her running mate was Amaury Massé who just couldn't hold onto the position in the face of a snap election, as the Constitution required in the event of a resignation amidst scandalous circumstances. "You must understand that our decision to award the contract to the Margraves for Blacksail Bay was entirely based on economic return. By having that resort here, we open up an entire avenue of tourism from the Marimaian Caliphate to our country.
"By bringing them here, we gain revenue from the tourist tax and fee, which as you know goes to maintaining our infrastructure required to support their vacations. We also collect our own taxes and upkeep fees from the resorts themselves. We originally floated the idea of a per capita tax but felt that would impede resort construction into smaller sized resorts, thus forcing more of them. We'd rather the bigger ones truly since they are easier to manage. It is easier to keep tabs on one or two than it is on six or seven. Regardless, we floated many other ideas before we landed at the present system.
"Yet, the Margraves have made themselves quite at home. From what I've been told, Blacksail Bay is one of the premier places to travel. Remarkably, we have few problems from the standpoint of crime. I presume that the resort's security handle most matters themselves. I'd shudder to think what goes on in there but frankly that isn't my concern. The agreement is very black and white on matters of crime."
"It feels as if we lost some of ourselves with it."
"I'd hardly think so Lambert," Dubois said, "Blacksail Bay isn't the only 'foreign-owned' resort in this country. And what really is 'ourselves' anyway? We're three countries in one. It might be that presently we of the French ancestry and bloodline hold power but we are Saint-Laurent's third master. Look down to the island of Saint-Genevieve. When the British held influence it was called Jamaica. To the west is Saint-Robert, which the Spaniards called Cuba. Then there is our own island, Saint-Laurent that has been called so many things, Hispaniola being the more recent and commonly seen name. Yet we are four countries though, are we not?"
"Four?"
"Saint-Laurent, Saint-Robert, Saint-Genevieve, and the tourists," Dubois took a sip from his glass, "the tourists have a country of their own, do they not?"
"They certainly do." In Saint-Laurent, the tourist areas were entirely separate from the local areas. Saint-Laurent, as a country, was very Catholic and they rejected Vatican II in its entirety. Masses were still held in Latin and some of the more liberal positions of the Church were by and large rejected by the Saint-Laurentians. As such, Sundays were days for God and family and little was open outside of a drug store or a general convenience store and few of those were owned by Catholics. There were no casinos and decadence was not something that Saint-Laurentians practiced and yet in the tourist areas, Sundays were just like any other day of the week. Casinos called to the masses to spend their money. There were nude areas on beaches and the laws of Saint-Laurent were sort of relaxed though there was no compromise on some areas, especially those regarding illegal drugs.
"Blacksail Bay, like other 'foreign-owned' resorts and casinos are not a part of the problem. Truly it's us who are part of the problem, we being Saint-Laurentians for not embracing the revenue they bring. Tourism is our lifeblood. Could we survive without it? Yes but it would be a rough survival. It would be 'survival' and nothing more. Think of how many people would be unemployed without the tourism. Their money gave us this yacht. It keeps our roads paved. It helps disaster relief whenever a hurricane strikes. We depend on them every year to come and enjoy themselves." If some of the FSL's more obstinate members heard their Président talk like this they would be infuriated. The truth of the matter was that while FSL was a right-wing party, attitudes in Saint-Laurent were shifting.
By and large, the country was accepting more and more things and growing progressively less religious. It was all with the youth largely thanks to the Internet and international communication. Same-sex marriage had been legalized by the state some eight years prior and though it'd caused a major uproar, the FSL won a major victory. Though FSL was very conservative, the arguments for denying it went against the party's tenants. No religious institution would be forced to accept or conduct them and few did but many of the FSL's detractors were left without reasons to complain. Parti Socialiste, who'd made it one of their largest platforms year over year were sunk. They'd failed to achieve anything on this front and FSL swept it away from them.
Beyond these issues, the country's attitudes were changing every year and Dubois knew that FSL had to stay ahead of them if it wanted to retain its grip on power. Parti Socialiste and Parti Commune were heavily involved with recruiting on college campuses and partly to blame for the changing attitudes amongst the youth but they had little to offer. The prospect of a worker's revolution wasn't very inviting to the youth when they understood just what would be at stake and attempts to paint the FSL as religious extremists fell short when Parti Théocratique existed and was disavowed by every member of FSL, the same went for the party's disavowal of Réforme Saint-Laurent, the country's far-right party. FSL merely had to tell the people that if PT or RSL were in power, the country would be a theocracy and if PS or PC came to power they would be paying even more in taxes to the former and losing all of their tourism thanks to the latter. The people of Saint-Laurent knew the difference between fact and fantasy.
Returning to the conversation, Lambert turned back from eyeing the beach and faced his Président, "Sir the tourism industry is truly our lifeblood, you are right. But don't you think, at some point, we're going to be faced with serious inquiries about these places?"
"Maybe but maybe not," he said, finishing his drink. He stood up, "You've worked in my office for ten months now. Have you seen anything at all that would garner a public inquiry?"
"No sir."
"Then there you have it. Try to have a wonderful evening with your lady."
"Yes sir," Lambert said as he stood up out of respect. He finished his drink and retired to his room with the very papers he'd been working on earlier. They would dry better in his room where he could lay them out without fear of the wind blowing them overboard. He also had Marine to keep him company.
• • • • ‡ • • • •
Friday, 13th July 2018 | 06:35 hrs [UTC-5]
Saint-Robert, Saint-Rabican | Église du Saint-miracle de Notre-Sauveur
20° 23' 00" N, 76° 35' 33" W
The sun crested the horizon in the faraway east and over the calm, still commune, a trumpet sounded a form of reveille that was far and different from the kind many associated with the word. Had this commune been a military camp or a prison, the sound would have been something more familiar to the common populace. Within the walls of the commune however, this form of reveille was familiar and comforting. It meant that a new day had dawned and the world had not ended during the hours of darkness, a very real concern for the seven hundred and fifty-seven people who occupied the walled commune, which took up 1,250 hectares of land just east of the departmental capital of Saint-Rabican in southern Saint-Robert.
Saint-Rabican was a major city on Saint-Robert with a populace of approximately 225,000 people. It was home to a major university campus and a small airport that offered flights to the capital cities of Saint-Laurent's four regions with only one direct flight to each of the four cities and one direct flight from each of the four cities per day on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The airport was closed the other four days of the week. The trains and busses did run every day of the week however, as mandated by federal law, which made it easy for students to travel to and from Saint-Rabican. The city wasn't known for its nightlife and on Sundays, like all cities in Saint-Laurent, it was a ghost town.
For the city's residents, the commune was a known entity and it was spat upon whenever it was mentioned in conversation, polite or not. By and large, the commune kept to itself but the city's residents would be happier if the commune and its occupants simply disappeared and whenever the two groups intermixed, it never went well and there were opportunities for this to happen, chiefly on Saturdays. Saint-Rabican held a weekly farmers market and the commune's members did travel down to the market to sell fresh fruits and vegetables, iced tea, and root beer. Despite their offensive proclivities, their root beer was largely the best in the country and their sweetened iced tea was a heavenly drink. Their fruits and vegetables were of high quality, always fresh, and organic. Those who bought from them at the market sometimes faced the looks of scorn and the whispered curses for supporting "such people."
If it wasn't the market where the two groups could clash it was also in the city's center where the commune's members hosted a three-hour radio show every Saturday from 07:00 to 10:00, having bought for the airtime in an otherwise legal and just way. Their show never ran afoul of laws and technically their speech was protected by the government, even if so many disagreed with it. Beyond this however, the commune's members kept quietly to themselves within their walled commune that born the title Église du Saint-miracle de Notre-Sauveur or Church of the Holy Miracle of Our Savior. This is what the commune was, a religious group though it was far more a sect than a group and that was how it was officially classified by the government.
The République de Saint-Laurent guaranteed the freedom of worship and so the ESMNS could not be denied its walled commune or its religious activities. They had done everything correctly through the bureaucracy and thus they had been rewarded for it. Remarkably, they were good at paperwork and it showed. However, despite this, they were not considered an accepted religious group and thus classified as a sect under the official terminology. This meant that they had to pay their taxes and they were not afforded the same liberties, rights, and loopholes afforded to recognized, religious institutions. ESMNS had tried to change their classification, going so far as to employ two willing, albeit "out there" lawyers who argued their case before the highest court in Saint-Laurent. When they were denied, it was a victory - some said - for legitimate, religious institutions and a defeat for sects and "cults" though the word "cult" was not in the official verbiage.
That defeat had come quickly, just three years after the commune had been founded in May 1998 by then twenty-six year old Jean-Baptiste Emmanuel Leroux. Leroux had been an old child to one Henri and Marie Leroux but the elder Henri had abandoned the family just three days before Jean-Baptiste's seventh birthday and when he proclaimed his "faith" to his mother some twelve years later, his mother disowned him, leaving him alone in the world. Jean-Baptiste had flunked out of theology school prior to his nineteenth birthday, largely because of the faith that he seemed to have adopted, which proclaimed that he was the risen embodiment of one Jesus Christ. He stopped using his given name and instead referred to himself solely as Emmanuel, the Romanized version of the Hebrew Immanuel, which meant "God with us."
Whatever God was with Jean-Baptiste Emmanuel Leroux it was not Jesus Christ. He founded his sect the following year and he'd found a surprisingly large amount of interested parties, so much so that when he established the commune in 1998, he had one thousand and thirty-nine applicants who wanted to live there. Due to zoning and building requirements however, he could only accept five hundred and fifty, which included himself. Thus he chose five hundred and forty-nine to join his "flock" while he kept the others informed and involved. They could not legally live within the walls of the commune but that had hardly stopped him or them and thus the actual population of the commune was seven hundred and fifty-seven, about as many as he walls could hold. He'd have accepted more but there was simply no more space and the commune's infrastructure was already taxed and in need of constant maintenance. Everyone who lived at the commune performed some job or function, with no exceptions. The commune needed labor to sustain itself independently.
By now, Emmanuel's sect had grown to approximately eighteen hundred followers. The commune outside of Saint-Rabican was the only commune but a second church had been built, blessed, and consecrated by Emmanuel himself in the island's capital some two years ago. Every once in a while, he traveled to Saint- Girardeaux and preached to a packed room. Beyond his own delusions were the delusions of those who worshipped him, believing that not only was he the embodiment of the risen Jesus Christ but also that he would usher in a thousand-year Kingdom of Heaven. He had told his flock that they would sit at his right hand, that when the thousand-year reign came that they would be immortal and that they would be among the chosen few who would be leaders.
To his followers, he was the "real deal" and many swore they witnessed him perform miracles. He could levitate, he could read people's minds, he cured diseases, and he could handle the most poisonous snakes without as much as a care in the world. Emmanuel was Jesus Christ to them but to the government, he was a dangerous individual to be watched and studied. People like him believed in doomsday and people like him could be inclined to incite it's arrival, if just to prove their point, whether that meant doomsday for the entire planet or doomsday for the sect. This was why the authorities watched the sect from both inside and out, though they couldn't get too close.
On this Friday morning, the commune awoke not unlike it did every morning. Chores had to be done, people bathed, and morning prayers began. Emmanuel liked to lead them himself and so he took his place behind the altar in their commune's church and preached for twenty to thirty minutes. To those working or bathing, they listened on walkie-talkies with headphones so as to keep the sermons from being overhead outside of the commune walls. The government listened too, eavesdropping on the frequency quite easily with a basic radio set. This morning, Emmanuel gathered his flock about him and smiled before them. "A new day has dawned my children," he said, "and praise be to hosanna that is has. One day the end will come and I do not know when this will be because that is my sacrifice to you. When I sacrificed myself upon the cross of salvation at Golgotha I did so to save the world from its sins.
"Now I return to bring forth a message that the time will come again. When I was sacrificed there at that site, I proclaimed to the Heavenly Father and the Holy Ghost to spare the people for what did they know? They who were simple and understood little of what they were doing. Yes there were those who recognized the error but they were too few. Now, two thousand years later, look upon the world and see how many people know.
"Yet this time will be different. The Heavenly Father and the Holy Ghost have allowed mankind to inherit this Earth for two millennium and what have they done with it? You know, you are all citizens of this modern world. Is life so much better with these gadgets and with these distractions? Look at the faithless millions who reject the Holy Trinity and who speak curses upon the name of their God.
"Welcome then my children to this new day. The Heavenly Father and the Holy Ghost have not yet seen fit to call down Armageddon upon this planet. Yet it will come and it will come here." He paused for dramatic effect, as he always did when he reached this part of his sermon. "The Bible will tell you that Armageddon, that the End Times will happen far from here, in Israel, the Holy Land but that is false. That is misdirection by the writers because they do not want the people to know where the battle will occur.
"Yet I know," he smiled, "I know because the battle will be where I am. The End Times cannot occur except with my sacrifice. Some of you wonder why? You say if I am Jesus Christ why should I allow myself to be sacrificed yet again. That is all right. It is human to ask such questions because you who love me do not want to see me sacrificed but that is because you are scared. You are scared to see my death because that is the natural, human reaction to death, fear. Yet death is not final, it is release. It allows the soul to leave the body and ascend into Heaven and that is where I shall go. Then, and only then, can I call forth the armies of Light and lead them against the armies of Darkness, the armies that will lay waste to this church and to everyone who dares speak the truth and do you know why?
"The answer is so simple and you know it. My children you know it because I have heard you speak it. Yes, it is because Satan holds power today unlike any time in history. Look upon the billions of men, women, and children of this world and what do you see? You see false faiths, you see violence, you see lust and greed, you see suffering, and what good do you see?
"It is there, I guarantee you but for every act of good that you see you must recognize that an act of evil existed prior. Those who commit good will be alongside you, warriors against those who commit evil. This is what we shall see upon the End Times and they grow nearer and nearer. My first sacrifice was one thousand, nine hundred, and eighty-five years ago and until I was reborn, I walked only on the clouds of Heaven. Here I return to you to say that the time draws near.
"Many will prophesize that it will be two thousand years from my birth, clearly they were wrong," he laughed as did those present. He spoke not to people but to entranced subjects, people of one mind and collective who were largely in sync with his eschatology. "They will say that it is two thousand years from my death and so fifteen years from now they will be waiting but why should the date be given? So that millions can repent a life of sin in the hours before the End Times? Do you believe that a life of sin can be repented away under such duress? Of course not, it has no meaning. Only those who have true repent will be saved and for the rest, they shall be cast down to the Devil they worship.
"The date is unknown. It is unknown for reason that you should leave your life as if any day could be the end. That is how you should live your life, free from sin and free from falsehoods. So the day draws near because I can feel it but I do not know it.
"Be glad my children that you who live free from sin and free from falsehood are here with me this morning. Our Heavenly Father has given us another day to rejoice his name and so please pray with me.
"Our Father," and so the Lord's Prayer began and each man and woman inside of that church and those around listening to Emmanuel repeated in unison with him, "who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. They will be done. On Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever, Amen."
A hush fell over the commune and work resumed. Emmanuel released his flock from their morning prayer and mingled with them, giving his blessing to those who desperately wanted it. Some begged forgiveness for their dreams and for their impure thoughts and so he forgave them because that was what he would do every morning from now until the End.
• • • † • • •
