“It’s been a long time Janet. I think we need to stay a little more professional than when we were young.”
“Then how about just a hug?” She grabs me before I can respond. “Deep cover you fool, treat me like an old flame.”
“Trying to lick my vocal cords was a little too deep.”
I break her grasp for the second time.
“Shall we go to my office?”
“Sex in your office? Great. I hope you still have that sturdy desk,” she announces to everyone around us as she returns to character.
Luckily my office isn’t far so it doesn’t take too long to walk and wiggle to it. When we get there Janet takes a device out of her purse and starts walking around the room. I stand at the door.
“It’s clean. We’ve been sweeping it for bugs and cameras for a week but it never hurts to do it again.”
Her voice is no longer the high-pitched annoyance it was when we were in public.
“So you’re my new personal assistant and press secretary? Why didn’t they send a guy?”
“We didn’t think you went that way. I saw the replay of your kiss with Martha McLeod so I’d say we were right.”
I know there are cameras everywhere, but the feeling I’ve been violated is immediate.
My office has a couch so Janet walks to it and begins to unbutton her top.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re in your office after hours. The people watching you expect we’re in here having sex so to maintain my cover…”
I look her figure up and down twice. It’s the current standard of beauty with a big bust and hips and a tiny waist but it’s unnatural, the product of enhancements. I should be eager, but instead the feeling of revulsion I got when she kissed me returns. I force myself to look into her eyes. They’re definitely doll eyes but they’re even more difficult to look at than most. For someone with such an animated face she has the saddest doll eyes I’ve ever seen.
“You’re kidding,” I say.
“We need to make it look right in case they had us on video as we entered the building. Besides, your expertise is a legend in D.C. and I want some stories to tell when the assignment is over.”
The corps made me a sexual legend too?
“Sorry Janet but you’re not going to write any epic poems about me today.”
Janet sighs.
“They did warn me that membership in The Cult Hunter conquest club is very exclusive.”
There’s a mirror on the office wall so she walks to it and starts messing up her hair and make-up.
“What are you doing now?”
“I still need to make it look right in case we were on video as we entered the building. They say you don’t like it rough and that it’s almost as much an intellectual experience as it is physical, so just a few little changes should do.”
“You do look like you prefer it rough, shall I tear my shirt or pop off some buttons?”
Rather than answering she gives me a kiss on the cheek then smudges the lipstick she left behind.
“Nope, that should do it as long as the Christians watching you don’t have heat scanners.”
“Heat scanners?”
“Sure, a heat scanner can determine whether we had sex just by reading the heat coming off our…”
Her eyes trail down to my waist.
“Enough. I get it.”
“Oh wait, I just might be able to cover us on that too.”
She rummages through her purse then hands me a small piece of foil.
“Bend it once and stick it in your pants. It’ll give off a heat signature to fool any scans. From what I’ve heard I’ll need to use this extra hot one to make it believable, you take the colder one but if anyone asks, please talk me up.”
“Exactly how long are you going to be my personal assistant?”
“I’ll be here as long as you need protection. Right now that means through your mission but I suspect you’ll need even more protection when you get back. In the meantime, we’ve already sent your new book to your usual publisher and told them to have it publication ready the day after tomorrow. We’ve scheduled a media blitz to start at the same time. It’s a pretty aggressive schedule. You’ll have media appearances on the morning shows and parties every night with the social crowd.”
“But my book isn’t ready. I’m still revising it.”
“It doesn’t matter, we’re selling the sizzle, not the steak. Speaking of which, we’ve decided on an image change. The whole cold, calculating agent of fear thing doesn’t work anymore. You’re now a super star. You fight the cults during the day and are the life of the party at night. You have a heart of gold and everyone trusts you. Kids want to be you and women swoon at the sight of you. Got it?”
For one brief moment I thought I was free of being “The Cult Hunter”, but I’m not. It’s just a new mask to wear, a whole new set of facial expressions to master.
“I’d still like to teach my classes. How do I do that?”
“Your classes have already been figured into the plan. We have studios set up on the road.”
“It sounds like you have my life all planned out for me. Can I go home and get one last night of sleep?”
In response she walks over and grabs my crotch.
“Okay, I think you’re hot enough now. One last thing, leave your com in your ear from now on.”
“Not a chance.”
I leave her standing alone in my office.
What the hell is happening to my quiet, simple life?
***
I walk off campus and enter the comfort of the old trees and the old houses in my section of town. Like the people who live in them, the beauty of the houses is only skin deep. Most of the original houses were demolished decades ago and replaced with modern structures constructed to look old to the untrained eye. Even most of those that are original on the outside have been gutted multiple times for upgrading to new technologies. My house is the only one I’ve seen that has real wood floors and trim. I’ve even furnished it with antiques to preserve the effect.
I remove my com and swear if the corps activates it in my pocket I’ll stomp the life out of it for good. If they want to talk to me then one of the agents following me can just break cover and force it back into my ear. I go back to the park and choose a bench that’s out in the open. Sitting in such an exposed place must be driving the corps guys crazy. I watch as a big young guy awkwardly sniffs the blooms on a rose bush. He’s probably never been in a historic park before.
That’s when it hits me. They’re watching wherever I go, they’re listening in on my com, and they’re monitoring my computer. For all I know, the Christians who want me dead are doing the same things. The only privacy I have left is my thoughts. I suddenly feel like a hunted animal that’s being watched by predators from behind every bush.
Is this how the Christians I hunted felt?
The agent protecting me sits on a bench and pretends to watch a tablet but I can see his eyes constantly scanning the park for any danger and escape routes. I’m scanning too and the thought occurs to me that there’s only one way out, and I’m not talking about the park.
I take out my small computer pad and manually shut off the wireless connection. The corps will instantly see the device go dark but if I work quickly they may believe it’s a simple malfunction. The computer itself has very little memory because all information is uploaded onto free public databases but there’s one thing I save locally, my class lists. I find Martha’s home address and am surprised to find it’s not far from my house. Students usually choose to live in modern apartments rather than the old section of town but I guess it’s good to live near your target. I reactivate the wireless then spend some time just reading the news of the day as if that was my purpose all along.
It’s a warm day in September but even so, the light is starting to fail when I judge the time is right. I walk towards the agent and notice another figure on a parallel course
about twenty meters away. The agent sees it too and abruptly turns off his device and walks to put himself between me and the other person.
I stop at the same rose bush the agent sniffed and while I sniff one at nose height I pluck a bloom off the bush at waist height and slip it into my jacket pocket. If I continue along the path I’ll be headed straight home but instead I slip between two bushes and exit the park in a way that takes me straight towards Martha’s address.
I look up and realize how stupid I’m being. The guy with the spiked Mohawk from the hover bus is walking straight towards me. It can’t be a coincidence, he’s either another agent or he’s an assassin who works with Martha. If she knows I’m on to her she may have ordered the hit.
If he’s here to kill me I might be able to throw him off balance by recognizing his presence.
“Nice evening,” I say when he’s still much further away than one would normally start a conversation. “For a walk I mean.”
“For a walk, yes,” he replies as the gap between us continues to close.
As we pass I hold my breath expecting some sort of an impact. A gun perhaps, a poison needle, maybe he can even kill me with his spiked hair. I release my breath a few steps later when nothing has happened and glance over my shoulder. He continues on his way without further acknowledgement.
Paranoia has officially returned.
Two blocks later I arrive at the address Martha listed as being her home. It’s about the same age as my house, three-hundred years give or take. Unlike my house, you can see it’s been renovated to incorporate new technologies. I laugh when I see it still has an antique mailbox hanging near the front door, paper mail has been gone for over a century. Three of the numbers are still on the box but one in the center has fallen off. It hung there for so long that the rest of the paint faded around it leaving just the outline of its presence so you can see it was the number four.
I feel my com buzz in my pocket and choose not to answer it. I assume I lost my security detail and Henry or Janet are activating it in order to track me. I turn the corner so I’m heading back towards my house and see the same agent doing a light jog in my direction. His attempt to stop jogging and act natural when he sees me is almost comical. I’m right, they were tracking me through my com.
My com is now buzzing continuously so I relent and put it into my ear.
“Hello Mom.”
“Very funny,” Janet says. “What were you thinking with that little stunt?”
“I was thinking get the hell out of the park and let your man handle whoever was following me. How was I supposed to know you only had one guy protecting me?”
“Go straight home Cephas.”
She hangs up.
I should have crushed the stupid thing.
When I get home I take the rose bloom out of my pocket. In my line of work I like to collect antiques so I happen to have a couple of pens and pencils. I take one of the pens and peel back an outer petal and start to write on the next petal in. The ink dried up long ago but leaving an impression with the tip should cause the petal to delicately bruise, revealing what I’ve written as the bruise turns brown. I fold the outer petals back into place to hide the message and stick the bloom into a glass of water.
Chapter Nine
I walk into World Religion class with one thing on my mind, seeing Martha’s smiling face in the front row. As I hit the stage I’m not disappointed, she’s looking radiant and I can’t help but smile at her, which she returns.
My mood changes when I see Janet in the small control booth at the back of the room. The class doesn’t start with the same old announcement of the lecture number and my name. Instead the congenial voice announces “See Dr. Paulson on his upcoming book tour and be the first to get your copy of what is predicted to be another instant classic”. The process of transforming me from cold killer to life of the party has begun. There are the usual two dozen offers to have sex with me so I hit a button and accept them all. Every head in the class, including Martha’s, instantly snaps up to look at me.
Great, now they actually see me.
I lock eyes with Martha and smile as I hit another button which causes groans as it rejects and deletes all the offers. I enjoy watching every millimeter of her lips as they transform from shock to smile, and she knows it.
“In our last class we were discussing the Final Holy War which took us into a discussion of belief systems. Today I want to backtrack and discuss what was happening in the world just prior to the Final Holy War. Who can tell me what the First Amendment to the Constitution says?”
There are no volunteers but I can see students in the audience looking up the answer. A girl named Makenzie volunteers and reads it verbatim:
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the private exercise thereof; or abridging freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”
“Correct,” I say. “Now who can tell me what one word was changed in 2052 compared to the original?”
One word. Religious freedom was so fragile that it hung on just one word.
Again there are no volunteers but this time they have a much harder time looking up the answer. The corps saw to it that certain parts of our history are not easy to find.
“The answer is the word ‘free’ which was removed and the word “private” was put in its place. Today we’re going to explore how that change came about. Throughout the 2020’s and into the 2030’s the world saw a period of religious radicalization and violence. If you can imagine, men and women would strap bombs on their chests and blow themselves up to kill members of other faiths. After countless bombings both here and worldwide the United States government chose a path of religious appeasement they hoped would make the country stand out as a shining example of religious liberty and thus not a target for radicals.”
“Now known as ‘The Equalization’ period, the U.S. launched a comprehensive program to insure all religions were publicly viewed as valid and equal under the law. The concept was that once everyone perceived themselves as equal, there would be no reason for religious hatred. To accomplish this the government created the Department of Religious Affairs. Their job was to insure that even the smallest splinter group of any religion was scrupulously given legal recognition. Almost every day of the year became a religious holiday for one group or another, each of which had to be officially recognized by the government and private businesses alike. In time, even individuals could declare that they represented a solo religion and the government recognized each of them as distinct and legitimate.”
My podium lights with a question from Mr. McCord in San Diego.
“How could that be?” he asks. “Officially recognizing any religion shouldn’t have been allowed under the First Amendment.”
“That’s not quite true Mr. McCord. The First Amendment says there can be no laws respecting establishment of religion because the founding fathers didn’t want a majority to declare one religion as the official religion of the country. That’s not the same as the government recognizing religions. The government had long been involved at the fringes of religion such as giving religious groups favorable tax treatment or using the words “In God We Trust” on money, neither of which was ever a violation of the First Amendment. Equalization just extended government recognition of religion by applying the Equal Protection Clause. In essence the government argued it was obligated to recognize all religions because recognition of one group as a religion but not another was resulting in racial, ethnic or social injustice. In the end, any group or individual claiming a deeply held religious belief was officially recognized as a religion so they could be tracked and categorized by the government in order to protect their religious freedom.”
But who was protecting them from the government?
Just then I’m distracted by my podium screen going momentarily blank and then coming back
up with a message on it from Janet saying “This is too general, you need to emphasize Christian cults more.”
I write “Butt out” back to her.
“Unfortunately the Equalization approach failed to end the violence, culminating in the Final Holy War of 2036.”
Martha raises her hand.
“Class, Ms. McLeod has a question but before I call on her I want you all to know that Ms. McLeod has asked me to drop formalities such as “Ms.” or “Mr.” and call you by your first names. I know you’ll all find this hard to believe, but she perceived me as sounding a bit stuffy.”
There are sporadic snickers in the live audience.
“So in the interest of loosening up a bit I’d like to do two things. First, I’m going to loosen my tie.”
I loosen it just a hair.
“And next I’m going to say, yes Martha, what’s your question?”
Janet gives me an enthusiastic smile from the booth. This change fits well with her plans to remake my image.
“It didn’t end the violence, but wasn’t Equalization still a success?” Martha asks.
“How so?”
“Didn’t it fulfill the Founders’ original First Amendment goal of securing religious freedom? Didn’t millions of distinct religions translate into millions of people worshiping as they saw fit?”
“From an overall perspective, you’re right. But Equalization also had the unintended effect of accelerating religious fractionation.”
Or maybe that was the intended effect?
“Accelerating? What do you mean?”
“Religion had already been fracturing itself for centuries. By the year 2020 there were already over sixteen-thousand different denominations of Christianity in the United States alone. Fifteen years into Equalization the number had jumped to over one-hundred thousand. Once you counted up all the individual religions the United States had over ten million recognized religious groups.”
“So you’re saying religion would have faded away regardless but Equalization sped up the process?” Martha asks.