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03:02 Wednesday 28 May 2091
Thousands of Defenders had followed Danny and Richard’s lead and defected to One Life, having been shocked and spurred into action by the Massacre of the Innocents, but now, as Recarns, they found themselves once again targets of the resistance organisation. The leopard had changed its spots and One Life, now in power, was every bit as bad as the Illuminati and the ONP had been. In fact, to some extent, it was worse. Although the ONP was an oppressive regime, it had been democratically elected. It had consolidated its position through nefarious means, committing atrocities along the way, but it had never instigated or encouraged a policy of genocide against a whole section of society.
And now, as members of One Life, they once again found themselves on the wrong side of the fence. Instead of the resistance being the saviour of the people, all the people, One Life had now morphed into a regime every bit as cruel and tyrannical as the previous one. This was not the world that Michelle and the others had been fighting for; they’d been fighting for freedom for the people of the world, not to have the oppressors replaced by another shade of oppression. They knew that the path to peace lay in unity, that Recarn and Normal needed to forget their differences and work as one for the future of mankind.
Zafar was the key to that unity, although he didn’t yet fully realise how large that task would be, nor expect the circumstances which would finally unite humanity. Since his rescue he had assumed the leadership of UN2.0 (the name that they had given their movement) as he was by far the most qualified for the role, projecting the necessary gravitas and garnering the necessary respect. A secret network of groups and individuals, both Recarn and Non-Recarns, was established and awaited the call to action.
Today was that day.
Garcia was sleeping in his sumptuous bed at the Presidential Palace in London (formally Buckingham Palace, the London home of British monarchs) when he was awakened by the muzzle of a pulse gun being pressed against his temple. He opened his eyes slowly, blinked a few times as his eyes became used to the transition from dark to light, and looked around the room. Before him stood five officers of his Personal Guard, a sixth holding a gun to his head. Captain Roger Winston took a pace forward from the group of five.
“Señor Santino Felipe Garcia, you are under arrest. I suggest you don’t resist; our orders are not to kill you but if you force us to do so, we will.”
Garcia was fully awake now but still couldn’t believe his ears.
“What do you mean, I’m under arrest? You can’t arrest me. I’m World President. I run the show.”
“You ran the show, Senõr Garcia. Now, you are our prisoner.”
“By whose authority? This is ridiculous. Get out at once.”
“You can bluster all you want, Senõr Garcia. It won’t do any good. The Palace is under our control.”
“But, but... how?”
“Your official Personal Guard detail, the one that was expected to relieve those that went off shift half an hour ago, was intercepted en route and replaced. A relief guard was expected and it arrived. That was us. There was nothing to make anyone suspicious.”
“You’ll never get out of here alive. There are two dozen platoons of troops at this palace all loyal to me. They’ll cut you down as soon as they realise what you’ve done.”
“They may try. But the truth of the matter is that we have men embedded in those battalions and the battalion commanders are with us. Nobody’s coming to rescue you.”
“So you’ve managed to arrest me. What now? I’m World President. The entire planet is covered with loyal troops and governments who would die to rid this planet of the Recarn menace.”
Captain Winston raised his eyebrow and gave Garcia a sardonic look.
“Yes. You keep thinking that too.”
Whilst the officers had been making their way to Garcia’s bedroom, the Presidential Palace had been surrounded by units of armoured vehicles and UN2.0 troops, with weapons trained on the occupants of the palace. The first instinct of the defending troops was to offer resistance but, when those loyal to Garcia realised that they weren’t only facing weapons pointed at them from outside the palace boundaries but from within their own ranks, the instinct of self-preservation took over. So they lowered their arms and placed their guns on the ground. Their devotion to the Recarn genocide wasn’t strong enough for them to die for it.
In the bedroom, Garcia, still sitting up in his bed felt far too vulnerable.
“May I get dressed?”
Captain Winston agreed to his request. Garcia slid out from under the silk sheets and stood before the group naked except for a pair of silk boxer shorts.
“May I have some privacy?”
“No. Just get some clothes on.”
Garcia walked over to where his lilac shirt and dark jacket and trousers were slung over a chair. He put his hand in a trouser pocket only to find it empty. Captain John Nicholson held up a small pulse pistol and a communicator.
“Looking for these?”
Garcia wasn’t surprised that the items were no longer in his trouser pocket but there was no harm in checking. Captain Winston continued.
“Even if you had managed to get to your communicator, it wouldn’t have worked. We’ve taken down your entire communications network. The lot. The whole planet.”
Garcia gritted his teeth. This had to be Adam’s doing. Only he had the ability to do this kind of thing. But who could be behind this coup? Ethan Armstrong was dead; at least, he was assumed to be dead – no body had been found – but the ease with which the Illuminati had collapsed was a testament to his being out of the picture. Both Ethan and Liam would, of course, have been reincarnated but without PLMs. They were no longer a threat. Zafar was locked up safely in stasis. Was there a new major player that he had missed? Perhaps someone from within his own government?
Garcia got dressed and sat down on the now empty chair. There was a knock on the bedroom door. Captain Nicholson opened the door and beckoned Garcia’s wife and daughters to enter the room. Garcia moved towards them but his wife, Sofia, shied away from his welcoming embrace. She looked at him with cold eyes.
“My mother was right. I should never have married you.”
Garcia was shocked. He knew that his mother-in-law wasn’t overly fond of him, but he and Sofia had a wonderfully fulfilling relationship. He tried to retain his dignity but was visibly ruffled.
“Isn’t that a little cliché, my love?”
“I don’t care what it is. You were a wonderful, caring, humane man when I met you but your ambition and pure hatred for Recarns has consumed you. It’s turned you into a monster.”
“Sofia, not in front of the children. Please.”
“They know what you are. They’ve seen friends, Recarns, taken away to processing camps never to return. I only wish I’d come to my senses earlier.”
Garcia couldn’t understand why his wife had turned against him. Had he not provided her with everything that she could possibly desire? She wanted for nothing.
“But I gave you everything. You’re my life. You and the children are my life.”
Sofia stopped him before he could continue.
“No, Santino. We’re not your life. Your festering hatred for Recarns is your life. We’re nothing to you.”
“But...”
“And, for your information, I’m a Recarn. And so is our eldest daughter.”
“You can’t be.”
“Well, we are. We have no PLM anymore but we’re Recarns. If you wanted to kill all Recarns, maybe you should’ve started with us.”
“But you were tested.”
“Test can be faked.”
“Sofia. Please don’t turn against me.”
“I turned against you a long time ago, Santino. How do you think these guys knew your movements, your weaknesses?”
“But I love you.”
“Maybe you think you do. But you don’t. And I certainly don’t love you.”
With that, Sofia and her two daughters left the room.
Garcia looked at Captain Winston who grinned.
“That didn’t go too well, did it?”
It was now 3.50 a.m. and governmental offices and communications centres all over the world were now under UN2.0 control. Of course, there had been some resistance, but embedded rebel troops within the units of government troops had made the overpowering of the One Life infrastructure much simpler than it perhaps could have been. All loyal members of Garcia’s ministries were now under arrest. One Life was paralysed. Within another ten minutes, all the main thoroughfares in all major cities in the UK had been blocked, signalling similar road closures to be executed on a global scale, along with the UN2.0 commandeering of every TV and radio station. One Life was no longer just paralysed. It was dying.
At 4 a.m. Captain Nicholson switched on the TV in Garcia’s bedroom. Around the world any visual broadcasting medium that wasn’t unplugged sparked into life. The same advertising displays that Garcia had used to broadcast his message of hatred were now turned against him. A figure came on screen, a figure that Garcia recognised but couldn’t believe he was seeing. Zafar smiled at his audience, as his words were automatically translated into the local language and subtitled, wherever the video was being watched.
“Good morning. My name is Zafar and I imagine you are wondering what has happened today. Illuminati rule was oppressive and unjust and had to go. I was part of the organisation, One Life, which removed it and took its place. I am ashamed to admit that One Life did not live up to expectations and became a murderous tool of a new barbarous and unjust regime, with only one aim – to annihilate Recarns. Millions of you were duped into believing his lies and vengeful rhetoric, Millions of innocent Recarns have died. Genocide is never the answer. Collective punishment is never the answer. The history books tell us that.”
Garcia couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“How? How is he there? He’s locked up in stasis somewhere.”
“He’s been out for ages, Garcia.”
Captain Winston had tired of being polite.
“We extracted him months ago.”
“But I would have known. The tube would have shown up on our systems as empty.”
“Oh, the tube wasn’t - and isn’t empty. It’s occupied by one of the prison guards. It’s very difficult to tell who’s in a stasis tube when their covered in all that shit; especially when the monitoring equipment has been tampered with and sees the DNA of one person as that of another.”
Just like the Illuminati leaders that he had overthrown, Garcia had fallen foul of complacency. He thought that he had all bases covered and that he was untouchable. He was shocked to find that he wasn’t. He returned to watching the screen again. Zafar was explaining what would happen next.
“The unjust laws that Garcia put into place are hereby repealed. The acts of 2084, the Recarn Population International Act, the Prohibition of Sexual Relations and Mixed Marriages International Act, the Acquisition of Recarn Land and Property International Act, the Health and Education International Act, and the Freedom of Recarn Movement International Act are no longer law. There will be a twenty-four hour curfew, which may be extended if necessary, but this is a general curfew and not just for Recarns.”
It suddenly occurred to Garcia that he had fallen foul of his own Prohibition of Sexual Relations and Mixed Marriages law. How could he not have realised that Sofia and Camila were Recarns?
Zafar was about to finish his announcement.
“There are to be no recriminations against humans or Recarns. We must learn to live together and part of that process is to forgive our enemies, to move on. Of course, that is easier to say than to do, but do it we must. We cannot forget, but bearing grudges and acting upon them is a recipe for disaster. All participants in protests against Garcia’s regime, who were arrested and imprisoned, are being released as I speak. Finally, I am assuming – temporarily – the position of Acting World President. Please rest assured that once stability has returned, free and fair democratic elections will be held to create a new world government that will serve all the inhabitants of this wonderful planet of ours.”
The video was then broadcast on a loop so that all those who were unable to watch the announcement live could discover the news when they woke up.
Captain Winston turned off the TV.
“So what do you think, Garcia?”
“Not impressed.”
The sound of a JetCopter could be heard landing on the Presidential Palace lawn, at the rear of the building. Garcia was handcuffed and led out of the bedroom to meet his fate, whatever that would be.