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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1315123-Out-of-the-Ashes
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Sci-fi · #1315123
The year is 2588. In a corrupt nation one man intends to bring change.
11/1/2588                                TO:                    Ms. Maria J. Hill
6:34am PST                                                      c/o Church of New Nazareth
                                                                        77 Ressurection Lane
                                                                        New Nazareth, Colony 1
                                                                        Mars, 98542-1254

                                                FROM:              Senatorial Guard Lt. Dirk Hill
                                                                        c/o USNA Dept. of Laws
                                                                        1421 Pine Square # DZ302
                                                                        Seattle Megaplex, W.Wash
                                                                        USNA, Earth 98206-0011

Dear Mother,
  First I want you to know that by the time you recieve this text-mail letter it will be too late to stop me. I set up the delivery from my Com-Com on a time delay of 24 standard Earth hours so what will be done as I write this has been done as you read this. I am sorry.
  Let me also state that this is not your fault and that my actions in no way reflect the manner in which I was raised. You were as wonderful a mother as you could be under the Moral Parenting Act of 2564. You even risked your very life to raise me as a Christian, instilling in me the virtues that made me the man that I became. Without your guidance and the wise things that you taught me throughout my childhood, I probably would have wound up as just another worker bee in the hippocritically corrupt and morally dead society of the United States of North America here on Earth.
  How I wish things could have been different. When the Christian Resistance smuggled you off world last year I longed to join you there on newly terraformed Mars. To be able to worship in the open among our Christian bretheren must be a wonderful experience. Alas, when you left I was already set on my course.
  That day when I was 12 and I was taken away to the compulsory USNA Citizens Academy was the worst day of my life. I remember the stoic look on your face and the tears in your eyes as I was led out of our homepod by those agents. The strength that you taught me, along with Christ's love were the only things that kept me sane during those six long years of "education" at the Academy.
  When I learned upon graduation that I was to be assigned to the Department of Laws, as an enforcement officer no less, I was devastated. I was going to be forced to carry out laws that I knew were cruel, inhumane, and unjust all in the name of a Godless society. I almost chose my only alternative: euthanasia. The pain I knew that would cause you, however, prevented me from going that route. Thus I chose to go on, becoming Officer Hill.
  Despite the evil nature of my job you were always supportive. You knew that I was only doing what I had to do to survive. Though I couldn't tell you until now, for fear of being exposed as a subversive, I feel that you always knew where my heart was.       
  You cannot imagine the pain it caused me to arrest and help carry out the termination of fellow Christians caught violating the Dangerous Diety Restriction Act of 2557. Overseeing the Forced Euthanasia Units carry out the Vagrant Control Act of 2561 was especially hard for me. The pitiful pleas and screams of those about to die shall forever haunt my soul.
  I tried to do good deeds and show mercy where I could but for the most part my fellow officers wouldn't have it. They seemed to be empowered by the sufferings of others and any hesitation on my part would have only made me a target as well. I learned this lesson the hard way.
  The beginning of the end started two Earth years ago after conducting a raid on the homepod of a couple suspected of violating the Population Control Act of 2559 by failing to abort an unauthorized pregnancy. As a reward for a job well done the Field Judge gave my patrol squad the oppurtunity to actually participate in the condemned couple's sentence of euthanasia. The judge must have noticed some hesitation on my part and so he gave me a choice: conduct the execution by myself or share thier sentence for violating the Subversive Actions Act of 2573. I was a coward at that moment, and thus I chose the former. I almost vomited as I prepared to give that poor man and woman thier lethal injections of Nuerobarbitol. Killing those people was the hardest thing I've ever done. That was the night I decided on my course of action.
  From then on I conducted myself on the job with the ruthless indifference my superiors had always respected in us officers. Mother, I killed many men, women and children in the name of the Law- but believe me when I tell you that my heart was never in it. I only did what I had to do to accomplish my ultimate goal.
  Soon enough I was promoted to Lt. 1st Class which enabled me to apply to the Political Security Squad. With the enthusiastic recomendations of my commanding officer I was accepted as a Senatorial Guard and assigned to Senator Robert D .Small of West Washington. Sen. Small was an ancient man who'd been in the USNA Senate since the Moral Reformation of the Constitution in 2499. He has always been an adamant supporter of voluntary euthanasia. In fact he was influential in passing the Mandatory Mercy Act of 2578 through the Senate. At the age of 155 E.Y. the only thing keeping him alive was the new organ transplant he constantly recieved, mostly harvested from the "patients" of euthanasia clinics. I had many chances to end his unnatural life but that would have been futile as some other equally evil politician would have simply taken his place. I was waiting for the big prize.
  Three months ago I learned that the annual USNA State of the Republic meeting was to be held here in the Seattle Megaplex on November 1st. Every politician in the USNA was to be in attendance including the Prime Dictator himself.
  Mother, I have managed to get myself on Sen. Small's personal security detail. This is the oppurtunity I've been waiting for to enable me to carry out my plans.
  Last night I went down to the Central King County Detention Center. As a member of the PSS I am allowed access to the entire facility. To make a long story short, I sabotaged a BioProtection suit, donned it and entered the primary quarantine cell where a few terrorists infected with NeoBubonic Abola Virus were being housed awaiting euthanasia by incineration. They had been infected with NBAV while trying to smuggle the fatal virus into the megaplex. In fact over a dozen officers who'd had contact with them were also infected and were awaiting a similar fate in the ajoining cell. I made a short pretext of questioning the criminals before leaving the prison. Needless to say I am now NBAV+.
  I will spare you the details of the symptoms but I assure you they are not pleasant. NBAV is a genetically engineered nano-virus, 100% fatal and highly contagious, that our own illustrious government created over 50 E.Y.'s ago to quickly eliminate undesirable segments of the populace. It's ironic that it will be used to carry out the destruction of that same government. The virus is almost undetectable until the end stage. It has no cure, nor is there a vaccine. By law anyone with NBAV must be quarantined and incinerated without delay.
  By the time you read this, Mother, the entire corrupt leadership of the evil USNA will be doomed. The virus will have spread like wild fire through the assembly and by the time it is detected the Prime Dictator and all his minions will have been infected and hopefully will be awaiting incineration like the common vermin that they truly are. I only pray that the price of wiping this cancerous government from the face of Earth is not too high. God willing the virus will be contained after it has served it's purpose.
  I am now feeling the first of the symptoms take hold as I prepare to make my way to the meeting arena where I will join the Senaor in preperation for today. Pray for my soul, Mother, and pray for our sad nation to be reborn out of it's ashes.

                                      Love, your son,
                                            Dirk

P.S. Don't worry about me suffering, I intend to self-euthanize using my Phase Disruptor Pistol after I carry out my mission, well before the virus peaks. See you in Heaven, mom. -D.H.
 
 
© Copyright 2007 T.H. Willis (todd88 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1315123-Out-of-the-Ashes