Home? (Part 5)

"Welcome, welcome, everyone," says the President in the most squeaky yet excited voice I have heard in a long time. None of us have met him personally for we are considered too insignificant to have any direct contact with our governor. It's rather strange how the habitants of this aircraft seem okay with the idea that they have never even seen what our leader looks like. He has appeared once or twice on one of the massive panels allocated in the center of the spaceship to give some important public announcements. However, that only happened in the first two weeks of our arrival to the aircraft, and since then I would even say that his existence had become a myth. For me, at least, for I didn't even think he was a real person. But I've been proven wrong. From what I remember, he's gone a little bit fatter and, instead of having just one prominent double chin, he's now upgraded to a triple chin. His stomach is not small either and I begin wondering where he gets eatable food from, bearing in mind ours is mostly purée, provided to us as a supposed good nutrient source that can be easily chewed and eaten faster than actual solid pieces. Even our times to feed ourselves are under control, and there is no room for relaxation or enjoying a simple moment. We eat in solitude, and it's no surprise that this banquet which we have been invited to is perplexing enough.

"I hope you have all enjoyed the food. I know that the one served at the canteen is not the best, but hey. How does it feel to eat all that stuff again, huh?" He tries to sound chatty and open when in reality everyone is put off by a dozen guns that are targeting each one of us, or at least, a group of those present. Do they think we are going to attack the President? That would be insane, especially since everyone in this ship has been convinced day by day of the horrors of anarchy and following more liberal or even religious ideas. I'm not one to believe that a place should be ungoverned, but it seems that no one can have a separate opinion to the rest. We are sheep and he is the wolf, seeking its next victim. I begin suspecting that everyone here has committed the worst possible crime: having a singular thought, since I know Max and I are not ones to follow the crowd. Yet everywhere I look I see shy and scared expressions, clearly a sign that they fear their governor and wish not to contradict him.

"Okey, dokey." Since no one has laughed he tries to sound a little bit more childish, not understanding that everyone is shivering in fear. The whole threatening atmosphere does not bother him, probably because he has done much to eliminate his rivals and put himself in a good position inside this ship. I know that during "The End," when a provisional government that was bound to fail was put in place to keep things a bit quieter, many were already debating the creation of an aircraft that would take fortunate human beings to a different planet, free of all catastrophe. A lot of politicians fought against each other to gain such an honourable position. I guess this guy won.

"Something here is weird," Max whispers into my ear. I have noticed that too but continue to look at the newcomer. He is still smiling while he takes out a piece of paper with written notes on it. He's going to give a speech.

"Welcome, my children." That first line already sounds repulsive, like he owns us. We are not children and certainly not of his property. "Now, I know that you're all probably wondering what you're doing here. That, my children, is a good question. My name, as you all should know, is President Arnold. I have selected each of you for a very special cause. You see, our planet is dying and that's why we are here. It's dying because our people didn't do things right. We believed in too much freedom and we didn't realise that such freedom was restraining us in many ways. We looked for economic advances while we destroyed the planet. We had been driven out of the path we should have taken a long time ago. That is why I value order and discipline so much. We are essentially social beings and we have evolved to become the best in our species. Well, we belong in a community, where each of us is not an individual, but a subjugate to our neighbour. We must attend their necessities first and put ourselves behind for the rise of a successful and happy community. And that is what we do here. We have something very special planned for all of you." He takes a moment and I can't help but look around the room. Surely, this idiocy of subjugation over expression has not settled in anyone's mind as something rational. I'm completely wrong. Many around the room nod in approval and I look at Max to see that he is equally as bewildered as me. What is wrong with these people? How have they managed to get so far into their heads? What is wrong with this place?

"Right, I'd like to commence this little activity with a few people. Since we are people, I'll be calling you by your full names. It makes it a bit more comfortable for all us. Am I right? Just a bit of an ice breaker." He lets out a laugh which sounds more like a hiss and less like a chuckle. Once we hear a few names, such as Ashley or John, those in the room take a very long time before they can figure out what their names are. It's truly saddening. Suddenly my name and Max's are called and we instantly stand up from our chairs and walk towards him, who has his arms open as if we were effectively "his children." I decide to set myself at the front, just to be as far away from his arm reach as possible. I feel like he's noticed my gesture but he does nothing. He just stares at me for a while before he wraps up his speech and commands the guards to drive everyone else who has not been chosen to Basement 5. It isn't a floor, for it's a basement and not a Base so I'm intrigued as to where these people will be taken. While we march through a beautiful hall covered in marvelous paintings and delicate china, Max grabs my hand subtly. I feel it shaking and it's really sweaty. He's as nervous and scared as I am. No one says a word and the trip towards the hallway is really quiet. The President hums while the rhythmic footsteps of the Invigilators set the pace of his song. It's terrifying. Finally we reach a wooden door and he lets us in. With a flip of a switch, the room is finally lit and we can clearly see that we are in some sort of modern looking establishment. It's a hidden office within the President's office floor. I'm startled. It has a huge screen in the center with an emblem. There is a long table, with more food and folders on each side with a pen on top. He gestures for us to sit down and a waiter promptly comes in to serve us some water. I notice her left arm is missing. Another waiter comes in when our leader snaps his fingers, demanding more items "than just a bunch of disgusting croissants." Max has already grabbed one and is eating it. The whole room is in tension. Such servant comes in after a few seconds with an incredibly long tray of food. He's missing fingers on each hand and he looks ill. His face is pale and he has not slept in days, judging from his protruding purple bags under his dark eyes. I swallow saliva and grab a pastry, simply to have something else to focus my mind onto. The President then stands up, calls for a toast, and we all follow him, mostly in fear since not following his orders could equal death. He then proceeds to point at the door and two guards close it and set themselves in the center. Some other guards walk around the table and position themselves so that they can easily shoot us. The leader then says:

"These contracts are not to be read. That just takes way too long and I don't have all day. Whoever dares not to sign it will be put to the fate my invigilators decide. You have two minutes to decide. If I were you, I'd sign the damn paper." He says it looking at me, as if he can sense my rebellious nature. I look down at the file and grab the pen, somewhat hesitant. He looks up again and coldly comments:

"Two minutes or they'll start shooting."

This paper could be our death row.