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The Lords of Order in Metro
Luther's 1st Vision
Jon Abrahams was not having a good day; playing host to his pack of elitist blowhards was no where on his agenda. But he didn’t have a choice. Turmoil throughout the common, both Metro and Wonderland has getting hard, close to impossible to contain. Fate or some other rule of reality was bringing the two opposite sides of the whole of Democracy together.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Abrahms greeted the waiting entraouge. “It’s been a busy day already.”
“Good afternoon, Jeb Cartwright,” he introduced himself shaking Abrahms extended hand. Cartwright took the liberty of introducing the other members of the group.
“Welcome. Let’s get started shall we?” Abrahms said.
The Lords of Order followed Jon Abrahms up a winding staircase, down a long hall way finally arriving at a set of doors simply marked, “Guests.”
“I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” Abrahms said, ushering the group inside. “Make yourselves comfortable, freshen up, I’ll have Jill buzz you when lunch is ready.” He said on his way out .
Cartwright started to say something, but decided against it.
The Lords of Order surveyed their current accommodations.
“Not bad for regular standards, “Walsh said.
A sitting room divided by a large window, bedrooms on either side and a small kitchen.
“Let’s get started,” Cartwright said.
The group split up and headed for the bedroom suites. Cartwright of course would have a bedroom to himself, the others would share, Stein and Everett, Walsh and Cain.
After a relaxing shower, Cartwright dialed up Wonderland.
“Front desk,” a computer clicked.
“Main office,” Cartwright said.
Moments later, “Good day,” the computer greeted, “location please.”
Cartwright sighed as he punched in his private access code, finally the screen buzzed on, a perky looking blue eyed feminine face blinked into focus.
“Miss Bloom here, how can I help you Mr. Cartwright?”
“Just checking in. We’re here in Metro Headquarters, resting a bit before lunch.”
“Very good. How are things in Metro, Mr. Cartwright?”
“Very hot,” Cartwright tried to laugh, before remembering Miss Bloom wasn’t programmed for a sense of humor. “As well as can be expected, so far,” he continued. Best to keep things simple he thought to himself-she’s not the brightest crayon in the box.
“Do you have the script?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Just stick to it and report back as instructed,” Miss Bloom clicked off, leaving a floating picture of Wonderland in her place.
Cartwright broke the connection and decided to take a nap before the real fun began.
Fresh from his shower and nap, Cain glanced at a still sleeping Walsh and decided to do a little tour of his own. An old styled elevator led him out doors to a open courtyard. The air outside was stale, hot. Smells of desperate people mixed with toxins blowing in from nearby factories, Luther was dizzy for a moment. He had to brace himself against a piece of wrought iron fence. That didn’t help much; soon the courtyard was spinning and suddenly the hardness of the ground. Soaring to some other place, Luther fought the raging current then relaxed and let it take him to wherever it was going. A cool breeze gently shook him to some state of awareness, Luther tried to stand but couldn’t, so he settled back in the cool breeze and watched the millions of pictures play in front of him.
Luther- Sounds trying to form words.
Luther, a voice in the distance called. Get up, look around you.
He tried standing again and found it easier this time. When he could focus he saw the courtyard he’d been in before was now overflowing with children running laughing jumping on all manners of colorful plastic. A gentle breeze blew across their play. All sizes shapes and colors of children joined by more then teenagers, adults, the elderly. People spilled from the gates of the courtyard into the streets of Metro. Luther squinted toward where Wonderland should have been. But all that was there was an empty space.
See the four walls of Wonderland have melted, the bank of cameras has fallen asleep. Children of privilege are now free to join in the activity of life returning to its fullness.
Beneath the sounds of harmony, Luther strained to hear another sound, before recognizing it as water dripping at first then pouring, but no one was getting wet.
Rain, Luther, controlled for decades, released. Purity. Cleansing the filth of the illusion Wonderland created. Listen to the rush, see how it flows? Cleansing all in its path. Soon Luther, soon. This time you see before you, this place you are in is a reachable reality.
The voice became lost in the noise. Luther found it hard to move. Motionless, he watched the joyous scene, a picture of pure happiness.
“When?” Luther asked the open courtyard. He got no answer. “Where are you?” Again no answer. As suddenly as the pictures appeared, they began to dissolve.
“Mr. Cain,” someone was calling him, but the voice was different. “Mr. Cain.”
Very few people if any, ever called him that.
“Mr. Cain.” This different voice trailed off and Luther fought to get back to the courtyard and pure happiness.
“Luther,” Walsh’s booming voice, his hands shaking Luther’s shoulders. “Come on now.”
Slowly Luther’s eyes tried to flutter open. Fuzzy figures floated just out of his reach.
“Luther,” Carwright screamed.
Luther forced his eyes to open, the figures in front of him slowly came into focus. Somewhere in Metro. Damn, he thought to himself, it’s gone.
No, it does exist.
“Luther.” Cartwright again.
Bringing an end to the silent dialogue. For the third time, Luther tried to open his eyes. This time he was successful. Walsh, Stein, Everett, Cartwright, the girl, Abrahms
“The gang’s all here,” Luther laughed.
“Where else would we be?” Stein said. “Unlike you, who’s been out of it for more than an hour, the rest of us came here to work.”
“Funny.” Luther raised himself up and sat up. Things were still spinning. He quickly settled back against the pillows. “An hour you said?” Luther asked. How could it have been that long? He wondered.
“Mr. Cain, Med. Unit will be here soon, just rest until they get here,” Dawson said, her voice dripping with anxiety.
“Relax Miss Dawson, I’m fine.”
He wanted to stop the whole Mr. Cain thing but decided to let it go, formality was just part of her job.
“Do what you’re told,” Cartwright ordered. “The rest of us can get started without you,”
Cartwright had a schedule to stick to. Luther didn’t belong anyway, he was only a last minute tag along.
“You just get some rest. We’ll fill you in on the details.” Cartwright motioned for the others to leave.
This was the last thing Abrahms needed. One of these pompous pricks passing out. Rushing to aide some over grown pampered baby was not part of the job description. Not that there ever was one exactly. Just a disk full of instructions and a handful of young idealistic empty headed dreamers. Believers of truth justice, America the free. The whole red white and blue magic act. Abrahms was just one of the last few to hang on. Now this…fortunately he’d be able to write the whole incident off as simple heat stroke. Lords of Order had contacted Metro first, right? This whole visit was a joke. With all that power wealth pretends to buy and Wonderland couldn’t handle a little bit of restlessness. Abrahms was understandably pissed. The constant heat was wearing on everyone’s nerves. Supplies were shrinking, demand growing. Wonderland had most commerce locked. This show of harmony may have mutual benefits or so he’d been told. Abrahms grabbed a quick bite and waited for word on Cain’s condition.
Guest quarters sitting room, Jill Dawson paced back and forth while the Med Unit took its time. Getting through Metro’s traffic wasn’t an easy undertaking at normal times, but this constituted an emergency. She had mentioned that to dispatch-right? Of course, she reassured herself. That’s all she needed on top of pretending she gave a damn about this group of pompous dignitaries. Having one of them wander off and get sick, probably just the heat but every thing had to be as close to perfect as possible. So she had no choice but to wait. Finally she heard the beeps of the Med. Unit in the distance, then slamming to a stop at the front gates. Quickly a team was shown to the Guest Quarters, zipped behind the closed door, before Dawson had a chance to say anything, then zipped out.
“Heat exhaustion, slight case. Rest, keep cool and hydrated,” it peeled off a receipt, handed it to Dawson and zipped out.
She stood there, momentarily stunned, not even looking at the receipt in her hand.
“He’s fine,” she told Abrahms screen. “And, who’s paying for this?” she added angrily before clicking off. Why bother waiting for his response he probably wasn’t in anyway. Dawson took a moment to calm herself down and knocked on the door.
“Yeah,” Luther answered. “Come on in.”
“Feeling better, Mr. Cain?”
“Just dandy. Sorry,” he added recognizing the sarcasm. “I guess it was stupid, going out alone, it’s not as if I’m use to the climate here.”
“No one is, really. Where was it you were trying to go anyway?”