POLLUTION

 POLLUTION (Vitiation)

Peter Woodgate 

It was 18:30 on Wednesday 15^th May 2050 and Ben was on his way to the banquet.

As chief of the Enforcer Brigade he had been invited to the prestigious County Dinner to celebrate, yet another year, when “the masses” had been effectively controlled.

The world had been in decline for centuries and England, who’s governments had thought they were the bastions of fair play, had succumbed to the divide of Elite and Masses. The Masses, although, in principle, governed by the Elite, were largely left to fend for themselves.

Those lucky enough to have jobs, did so mainly, to benefit the Elite. With taxes high and rewards low they could hardly afford to feed themselves, let alone all those out of work. There were periods of strikes and demonstrations but, the Masses soon discovered that they were the ones to suffer. The Elite simply got what they needed from elsewhere in the world and there was plenty to choose from; it was a case of work or starve.

 

The Elite, about 2% of the global population, owned 95% of everything and they had calculated that the population of the Masses, currently at an all-time high, would be reduced by 70% within the next 10 years. This would be caused by mass starvation and disease. The Elite had forecast these figures as part of their governing strategy and would need this to be accurate if they were to fulfil their plans to drastically cut the Enforcement Brigade staff. “Natural wastage” was the term they used.

 

As Ben sat in the heli-taxi on his way to the banquet he recalled what Horatio, the president of the county’s Elite had told him;

“remember the Masses are expendable, few have any real use in today’s society. Some are useful for experiments and others to sort out our squabbles but should you have to exterminate any that become tiresome, you will be doing mankind a service”

Ben thought back to the previous week and the dozen or so that he had ordered to be shot and smiled. ”No doubt the president would be impressed,” he thought.

 

The heli-taxi flew over the 20 feet high x 15 feet thick wall that surrounded the Elite compound and set down in the main square. It was teeming with taxis ferrying important people to the banquet and, as Ben stepped out, he was greeted by an Asian-looking young lady wearing an extremely short skirt. She immediately asked for his name before checking it against the list contained in the small computer which hung round her neck. “Follow me please sir,” she almost sang the request before turning around heading, it appeared, towards a large building with a clocktower. Flags fluttered from each side of the entrance some, of which, Ben recognized immediately. They represented different counties, which showed Ben, that some of the guests, had travelled much further than he had.

 

Ben glanced at the clock before entering the building, it showed 18:54. He quickly tapped the face of his watch, it showed 18:55. “Blast” he muttered, “must get this watch checked.” He had only purchased it a couple of months before and was aware it was gaining a second every day. This was most annoying as it was guaranteed to be accurate within one second per year.

The banquet was scheduled to begin at 19:30 which gave Ben plenty of time to freshen up and take note of all the seating arrangements. He asked the young lady for directions to the cloakroom and dining hall taking note of her name that was shown on her collar.

“Thank you Mimi,” Ben said quietly, pressing a 50 Uni note into her hand before heading off to the bathroom.

As Ben swung open the door he was met by what must have been 100 guests; obviously, it appeared, everyone had the same idea. He decided he wouldn’t bother and then headed off joining the queue that moved slowly toward the dining hall.

He hadn’t been in this particular building before and noted how spacious every area seemed to be. Ben’s invitation number was 407 and he had been informed that over 600 guests had been invited.

“No wonder everything appeared roomy,” he thought.

Before he arrived at the banquet hall Ben had entered his name into one of the screens that lined the corridor, it showed that he was located on table 66, seat 6.

Finding his table and seat he noted that he was positioned between two old gentlemen whom he had met at the previous banquet.

“Just my luck,” he thought, “bet they are as boring as last year.”

He remembered that they were both very wealthy landowners, much, of which, had been gained when public parks and conservation areas had been sold off in 2021.

Of course, the land was never improved for public use, as was advertised, but merely blocked off from the Masses and used for shooting and hunting. Ben recollected the time he had to attend where 6 poachers had been shot by the landowner’s security guards. This was allowed within the new laws.

Ben then eyed up the rest of the guests on the table. There were 11 so far with one chair, as yet, remaining empty. Exactly opposite sat a Chief Enforcer from another county and either side of him sat a gorgeous girl. This made Ben angry, why did he not have lovely young ladies sitting next to him?

Ben looked at them with lust in his eyes, envious of the other Enforcer. In fact, nobody seemed to acknowledge Ben at all, this made him even angrier. Ben was a proud man and loved to show off his uniform. He liked nothing more than to strike fear into people’s hearts with his authority, however, here he was just a guest and had to bow down to the Elite.

He was about to strike up a conversation with a lady 3 seats away, when the gong sounded for the feast to begin. Ben studied the menu and noted it contained 7 courses and, being a greedy pig, he was delighted. He looked over at one of the gorgeous girls and noticed that, sat next to her, was a huge bald gentleman; he had taken up the empty seat whilst Ben had been studying the menu. “Bet he is a glutton,” Ben thought as he smiled to himself.

There was plenty of wine on the table and Ben had consumed 3 large glasses before realizing that the first course had not yet arrived. “They’re very sloth this evening,” he muttered to the old gentleman seated to his left,” lazy sods, need whipping if you ask me.”

The old gentleman mumbled something in reply but Ben was already feeling somewhat tipsy so couldn’t make sense of it.

Shortly after, the first course was served, and the 600 or so guests munched their way through the menu unaware that the poor kitchen staff were having terrible troubles with the ovens. It appeared they were overheating and creating toxic fumes. Although an extraction system was in operation it had started to deteriorate through lack of maintenance.

The kitchen manager decided that drastic action needed to be taken and gave the go-ahead for the toxic fumes to be funnelled directly out of the compound and into an area occupied by the Masses. The normal extraction system would have deconstructed anything toxic but it was an emergency, and besides, it was probably no more harmful than what the Masses were used to. 

Problem solved, staff carried on serving the gluttonous guests, the final course, the old favourite, apple pie. After dinner, speeches followed, then entertainment.

This was not for the squeamish as prisoners, due to be shot, were made to fight to the death with the winner having the dubious prize of being sent to a camp to live out his/her remaining years in hard labour.

                                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 10 years later and Ben was on his way, yet again, to the annual banquet.

The Enforcer Brigade had been reduced, as forecast; in fact, their workload was minimal. Starvation had reduced the Masses by 40% but it was the terrible diseases that now raged across the planet that reduced it by a further 30%.

Masks and breathing apparatus were now part of the Enforcer uniform and had to be worn at all times.

Ben gazed out of the heli-taxi and looked at the mass of bodies lying unburied.

Funerals had long since been abolished and it was left to the fire service to travel around incinerating all corpses.

Being short-staffed, the fire brigade worked only in the town areas, those in outlying districts were simply piled up in designated areas where it was hoped, natural decomposition would eventually dispose of them.

 

The heli-taxi was passing over one such heap when something caught Ben’s eye. The mound appeared to be moving.

“Wait,” Ben called to the pilot, “put her down over there I need to check something.

“Well, I ain't getting out,” the pilot stuttered nervously.

“You don’t have to, I just want a quick look,” Ben replied.

 

The taxi touched down 50 yards from the heap of flesh and Ben got out making sure his breathing gear was airtight.

He walked over to the horrifying mass of bodies and suddenly recoiled.

A huge beast emerged from the sea of melting flesh. It had 7 heads and 10 horns, saliva dripping from each of the 7 mouths.

Ben gasped and suddenly thought back to when his parents had given him a book for his birthday. He recalled too, how they had often read to him from the book. It had a black cover and embossed on the front was a crucifix. He shivered as he remembered how it frightened him when his father had read the final book of The New Testament, The Book of Revelations.

Ben was still shaking as he stared at the beast, looked into the multitude of eyes and saw Evil

The creature lifted it’s head, slowly, looked up at the sky and smiled;

The time, of the second Beast, had come.

Copyright Peter Woodgate 2013