Uprising



  Uprising

  The Fall of Haven: Book One

  Justin Kemppainen

  Copyright 2010 Justin Kemppainen

  Cover art by Athanasios of www.mad-gods.com

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  Prologue: Civilized Society

  "Quiet down, now. Please, take your seats. Class," the woman's voice increased in volume, developing a sharp edge, "please quiet down and take your seats."

  Children, boy and girl alike, dressed in identical uniforms of baggy white, scrambled to their seats. The teacher gave a mental sigh, thinking to herself that pupils of any age should be much more disciplined.

  Miss Ryan, the teacher, spoke. Her voice cut through the small classroom. "You will not speak out of turn. You will not pass notes. You will pay attention. You will not use the bathroom without permission. You will be silent, and you will listen. If you have a question, you will raise your hand. Stupid, pointless, flippant, or disrespectful questions will not be tolerated. These are my rules; do you understand them?"

  The children, whether they understood or not, nodded in unison, their eyes wide. "Good." She straightened the spectacles on her face and smoothed the hem of her pleated skirt. Her voice took on a tone of intense patronizing. "Today, I am going to start instructing you in the correct history of this fine city. You are encouraged to disregard anything mentioned by your former teacher. His information was false and malicious."

  Ignoring the confusion on the faces of the young children, she drew in a breath, rearranged her smile, and continued, "This place, this city was created many years ago as a shelter for the best of humanity."

  "During that time," she continued, "there were many bad people who became sick and died from a disease called influenza." She pronounced this slowly and loudly, elongating each syllable as though the children were hard of hearing. "Your ancestors," pronounced ann-sesst-orrs, "used this place to keep safe from the horrors of the disease. They built big, giant walls to keep the bad, nasty people out."

  One child raised a hand; she appraised him briefly before nodding for him to speak, "Mr. Wilson said there are lots of, um," the boy looked up for a moment, "sprains of infleza. He said those people died because we didn't help them. He said we could have."

  Miss Ryan cocked her head, smile wavering. She said, in a sympathetic tone, "Mr. Wilson is a liar and a criminal. He deliberately misled you because he is a very bad man." The boy gazed up at her with wide eyes and sadness on his face: the look of a child betrayed. "No, no," Miss Ryan continued, "we had no choice but to keep them out. They were bad, wicked people: just like Mr. Wilson."

  She looked over the classroom again, gauging the children's discomfort and gullibility before continuing. "Now, Mr. Wilson said a few other things I would like to correct." She kept the smile plastered on her face, adjusting the butterfly barrette her straight blonde hair was drawn into. "First, unlike what Mr. Wilson claimed," the name spoken with hints of venom, "this place is a paradise."

  A little girl raised her hand. Miss Ryan motioned to her. "What's that mean?" she asked, big blue eyes tinged with confusion.

  Miss Ryan walked over to the girl and crouched, coming down to meet her eyes. "Well my dear, paradise is a place of happiness." She stood up and addressed the entire class. "You're all happy here, right?" The children solemnly nodded. "There's a good reason for that. Even though we were saved from that terrible sickness, our leaders refused to take the necessary steps to keep us prosperous."

  One child's hand shot into the air, and, before Miss Ryan could acknowledge it, the boy blurted, "Is that when Citizen One came in?"

  A slight frown darkened Miss Ryan's face as the child half-spoke out of turn, but she quickly brightened. "Yes, that's absolutely right," she said to the child. "Citizen One created this happiness we all share. It is his vision which led to the creation of the sterilization field." The large word, stare-ill-eyes-a-shun, again pronounced very slowly.

  She gestured, and every child looked toward the window, some craning their necks to see. "The field is why our beautiful blue sky looks the way it does," she said. The children nearest to the window were able to see the way the sky flowed and rippled, clouds overhead bending and morphing. Sunlight refracted and wavered but gently provided its accustomed warmth.

  "What is it made of?" one child blurted.

  She frowned again. "Please, do not talk out of turn." She scanned the room for the source, unable to pinpoint the child who spoke. "The field is made of energy, and it keeps us safe from all of the very bad people outside and their terrible germs."

  "But," she continued, "you can't forget; that's not all Citizen One did. He found out some of the bad people from outside got into our paradise. He did what he could, but there wasn't any room inside our protective walls to build more, and we couldn't move away."

  "Why not?" asked a boy, likely the same one who interrupted before.

  Absorbed in her lecture, she ignored the disobedience. "It's not safe outside. We can't leave unless we're well-protected and shielded. However, " she said, brightening, "he came up with an idea to keep us apart from the bad, inferior people. Now, we live here, up and away where it's clean and safe. There's nothing but good, wholesome, smart, happy Citizens." She looked back and forth over the class, smiling brightly.

  A girl with curly blonde hair raised her hand, and Miss Ryan nodded. "What's an asquition squid?" the girl asked.

  Miss Ryan tossed her head back and laughed heartily at the mispronunciation. "Oh, my dear," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's acquisition squad. They are the brave people who made sure we were able to get food and supplies. They still do so today."

  "You see, with so many Citizens to take care of, we needed to get sources of food, water and other supplies. So the brave and smart Citizen One had the idea to send out some courageous, well-protected people into the bleak and scary world." She turned her palms upward. "And they have done so for many, many years. Isn't that nice, to have so many people looking out for us?" she asked. Several children nodded in agreement.

  "Where did they get the supplies from?" A male voice, sounding somehow out of place, piped up while she was smiling at another child. It came from the back of the room, and Miss Ryan frowned. She couldn't quite tell who spoke.

  "Bad, inferior people had things that we needed, so our brave soldiers brought them back for us to use until we could set up more autonomy." Her word choice and cheerful tone of voice slipped.

  "So they stole stuff from other people who needed it," the boy spoke again. Miss Ryan's frown deepened, and she slowly moved toward the back of the class to face the child. He was staring out the window, anger on his face.

  "Those people are a nasty, inferior lot-" Miss Ryan started.

  The boy cut her off, raising his voice and finally turning toward her. "They aren't bad people, and they aren't inferior. My father says we just left them behind to die. He says Citizen One is a tyrant." He stared at her with a defiant eye. His voice was lightly deepened but wavering, synonymous with early teens.

  The outburst cracked any remaining sweet demeanor from the face of Miss Ryan. She briskly walked over to the boy who eyed her with defiance. "Well, you disrespectful little urchin, your father is as much of a liar as Mr. Wilson..." She trailed off, eying him more closely. "Young man, you do not belong in this classroom!"

  The youth stood up, a little short for his age but clearly in his early teens. He set his jaw and glared at Miss Ryan. "My father is not a liar or a criminal. You and everyone like you are."

  "Both you and your father are despicable, vile offenders against society. Tell me your name."

  The boy glared at the woman. "Evan Wilson." He spat the name. "You people arrested my father. He's gone, and he's not coming back." His eyes filled with tears. "He's gone!"
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br />   The corner of Miss Ryan's mouth curled in a sneer. Without another word, leaving the angry boy standing at the back of the class, she went over to the desk and touched a button on the electronic pad. She leaned down to speak into an intercom. "I need a disruptive student removed from my classroom. Evan Wilson." She clenched her teeth as though the name were somehow filthy or distasteful. "Yes, Wilson," she repeated after a muffled response, "and tell the Inquisitors responsible to be more thorough next time!"

  She leveled her gaze at the teenager, who lifted his chin, unafraid. "Now, despite anything your criminal father, Mr. Wilson, told you and this unfortunate class, this society is thriving because of men like Citizen One. Because we don't suffer the inferior. And because we remove criminals and dissenters like your father," she smiled, "and yourself."

  As if on cue, two men wearing full black outfits burst into the room, eliciting a startled cry from some of the young children. Miss Ryan pointed to the back, and the two men rushed over toward the standing youth, who suddenly looked very frightened. They seized him by the arms. He struggled against their grip, screaming, but they quickly secured and dragged him from the room.

  He was gone. The rest of the children in the classroom sat in shocked silence. A couple had tears rolling down their cheeks, and quiet sobs could be heard. Miss Ryan folded her hands in front of her, passing a sympathetic gaze all around. "As you can see, there are still bad people among us," she smiled at the children, "but I just know that no one here will be like that, right?" The classroom nodded, many of them out of fear.

  Miss Ryan sat down at her desk. She spoke, her tone less cheerful than before. "Well then; let's continue your lessons, shall we? Please take out your mathematics books." After a short hesitation, as though the children were afraid to move, the clatter of moving desks and shuffling papers filled the room.

  Their new teacher continued. "We will review proper history in greater detail at the start of class each day so you all memorize the information and understand just how important it is."

  She donned a bright smile and began the next lesson.