Human Desire for Freedom:
There is no chance, and no anarchy, in the universe. All is system and gradation. Every god is there sitting in his sphere. xi
-Ralph Waldo Emerson (Conduct of Life)
There was a dark room and in the middle of this room sat a table, above which there was a single light. Zack walked toward the table, noticing that others were already present. Not much could be seen, but the story became more clear as he got closer to the table. Zack slid out one of the chairs and took a seat.
Across from him sat the Ambassador, Luciano.
Luciano came from another nation where liberty was treasured by the people and the government. His innocence in the murder of Senator Hardin was sure and the most clear.
To his left sat Detective Frank Casey. If anyone would go beyond the call of duty, it was this man. Casey had the drive to, against all odds, find the right criminal in any case.
What was his motivation? Was his drive present because he had something to hide, or did he possess a genuine yearning to help the innocent?
Across from him sat his partner, Mellissa Daniels, with her arms on the table so she could rest her head. She was intelligent and beautiful. She seemed to have a genuine heart, but she always followed her partner’s lead.
Zack looked to his right and saw T.J., or Tyrell Johnson, who helped to take the courtroom. Zack knew him well. He was always talking about how freedom could only be found in anarchy. Zack didn’t agree, but found him to be a good ally in his current circumstance.
Between him and Mellissa sat the crooked senator, Timothy Elliot and his thoughts were opposite from anarchy. His position was that government ought to have more control for the sake of posterity. Zack did not agree with his view either, but was also not entirely sure of his guilt. What if he too was innocent concerning this crime?
Zack noticed an exit sign in this surreal room. He stood and walked toward it, but the sign never got closer; at least it didn’t seem to. As he walked, he passed Senator Hardin’s body, the first death in this revolution. His death would stir more controversy and more decisions than his life could ever hope to produce.
Zack continued and passed the bodies of those lost when the courtroom was taken. They were just at work and now they could not even pursue liberty. Their fate was decided for them and they had no voice.
Finally, Zack came to the face he knew would haunt him from this point forward. He was the only casualty in this war whose life Zack took; and he was just a puppet. Zack had slaughtered him in anger and wished he could take it back, but he could not.
The unwitting soldier stepped through the door under the illuminated exit sign and found himself in a wasteland.
Was this the dream he held? Here there were no governments to hold him down, only gravity. There was no law and his captors were absent. Was this freedom, to be alone in a wasteland? Was freedom a valid dream? Was it a worthy pursuit? The answer was more elusive now than it had ever been.
Zack looked up and the sun was beaming down on him, giving him a spark of genius. If all people were subject, then they are subject to something. If those things are also subject, then they are subject to something as well. Was there a point at which this subjugation began, or was there somehow an infinite number of causes?