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Prologue

 

It’s been like this for months.  Every prisoner, during their one on one time with family, or close friends, or acquaintances, has had at least someone to meet with. To talk to.  To at least look in the eye.  Not him. Every session, he turns up, and just sits there, on his own. Not upset. Not expecting. Never emotional.  Never surprised that there is no one to see him.  Never upset when the session ends and no one has turned up.  Not even as much as a twitch to show disappointment. Disenchantment.  No form of emotion whatsoever.  The supervisors have all agreed, over various singular, and group conversations, it is like watching a robot, waiting for it’s master to return and give it the necessary kill order.  One that is never going to happen.  This is one ‘robot’ whose master’s are long since dead. Quite probably by his own hand. 

 

It never occurs to the prison guards to think back; just how long has the never speaking prisoner has been in their custody? He just always has been there.  Every session.  Every day. Every week.  Every month.  Going back since…. well, since ever!

 

The year is 2157.  There hasn’t been a 3rd world war.  There hasn’t been an end of the world calamity, either man made or nature inspired.  There has been no form of nuclear confrontation, between any of the major states.  Or any of the minor states, saying that.  The world has just gone to shit.  All the way there.  ‘Moved on’ some say. ‘To where?’ the rest retort.  If anything, the world has succumbed to the lowest common denominator.  The gutter.  What’s left of the rich, play with what’s left of the new technologies, while the batteries still remain and work, while the rest of the world fights every day to survive long enough to complain about fighting to survive the next day.  The idea of fighting as though each day is, or could be your last, is now null and void, as everyone pretty much hopes that today will be their last.

 

‘It’s the look of vacant’ says Guard Warden Gerry to his colleague, ‘That’s what I don’t like.  Makes me wanna beat some form of response out of the fuck.  Any form.  I don’t care what. I’m just sick of seeing the same placid, not really here, bullshit look on the guys face’ 

 

Very soon, Gerry is going to regret wishing such a thing.  He’s going to regret coming to work today.  Hell, he’s going to regret taking this miserable job offer of 50,000 GD a week.  In fact, later on today, he’s going to really wish that his parents (still not sure who exactly the father is, or if that’s really his mother) had never got it together long enough to ensure his creation.  This is about to become the mother of all bad days for Guard Warden Gerald O’Dickinson. 

 

There were three things that went through Gerry’s mind before he died; the first question that sprang to mind was: “My God, how the hell does he move that quickly?” The second subject of concern was the query: “Why is my elbow so close to my own face?” Unfortunately for Gerry, the last thing that went through his mind was his own elbow…

 

During the seemingly pointless ritual of escorting Niall Tilne back to his cell, after yet another pointless visitor session, Gerry’s unfortunate wish appears to come true and all hell breaks loose.  It would seem that while no-one else could see a visitor, someone or something has ‘turned him on’ and the reaction Gerald O’Dickenson so desperately sort has ended in a spectacularly final way for him.

 

History

 

 

We go back 150 years.  The World, as it was then is just about to kick into the biggest economic recession known to man.  Bigger even than the previous recession of the late 20th century, which had been until then, the worst economic state.  This depression really makes itself known by mid 2011, and despite a few years of positive growth, it destroys the normal way of life by 2018. 

 

The ever questioned ‘Euro’ finally fails in 2013, after ruining every country’s economy it was forced upon, leaving them in financial freefall until the General Dollar is introduced as recognised currency worldwide in mid 2014. This alone brings a greater state of unity than has ever previously been known.

The Religious community is suffering also. The many religious leaders who have been desperately issuing warning along the lines of ‘The end is coming’ or ‘Watch for your sins to be made real’ have been ignored or beaten relentlessly into silence, to the point that all spiritual followings, bar the really malevolent don’t exist.  The Pope has done one of three things; gone into hiding, given up or died. There are no vocal sources of any other Religion piping up to challenge the absent crown.  No one cares anymore.  What is there left to care about……?

 

In the late 21st century, the World, whilst now being unreasonably overcrowded, had almost managed to recover itself to a condition something close to early 20th century, although living conditions and behaviour, now more closely resemble Victorian England than what would have been predicted by science fiction writers of the late 20th century.  During this time, a group that would later become officially titled ‘The World Council’ was formed. This group was founded in an attempt to try and prevent the inhabitants of the planet, spiralling out of control, into more and more self destruction and depravation.

 

As always, this particular organisation went too far, and took extreme measures to ensure their control was enforced, across the planet, regardless of who, what, where or why.  They rapidly became the ‘World Police’ who were universally hated by every single person on the planet.  Due to their universal hatred, they rapidly gained a status of issuing unreasonable cruelty, for no reason and so became the perfect personnel to be wardens at the prisons the now undisputed WP had either built from scratch or reopened existing restraining establishments.

 

This is the point we meet our main character...