Chapter 3

Nigel opened the door forcefully and marched through it.

It was just a few short days since he walked into this class late the first time. The first time, he had an earth shattering epiphany, this time it was just simple procrastination. Everyone stared as he clumsily searched for his seat. Red faced, Nigel sat down in the first open seat he saw. Abigail was on the other side of the room and Nigel saw her roll her eyes, to which Nigel responded by shooting a fierce glance in her direction, staring her down behind his glossy black shades. The professor was struggling to get out of his seat as he was quite rotund.

"All right you young and impressionable students" he said with a loud boisterous voice, "I'm your guest speaker today, as your regular professor is absent…today…., as you probably surmised. My name is Professor Edward Smalls."

"More like, Professor Triple Extra Large!" snorted a student in the second row.

"Young man," the Professor barked, almost drowned out by the class laughter, "If you want to pass yourself as an intelligent student at this prestigious university you should probably not broadcast your stupidity. Now where was I?"

Nigel gave an angry look at the blond kid who was looking around the room and soaking in the laughs. After the kid grimaced back, Nigel began to tune out. There wasn't much of anything to learn from a substitute especially in a class like this. His point was only proven further as the substitute painfully stuck with using snow cones for examples of chemistry problems despite the imagery failing to make any sense. Nigel was more shocked at the boldness of the student who had made such rude comments. There is no way that something like that would have been said a few years ago, even if the students were thinking it.

That was just a small example of what Nigel was beginning to notice everywhere since he had wondered about the corruption he was witnessing. What was the source of this pressure? Why was everyone so…angry?

Class flew by and as everyone started getting out of their seats and filing out of the door. The blond headed kid was standing just outside of the door way in a huddle with a few other kids. They were all wearing football jerseys and looked older than the other freshmen in the class, even though they probably weren't. As Nigel started to walk by, he felt something tug at the books under his arm and they all suddenly slid out on the floor.

Nigel spun around to see the blond headed tall kid laughing and "high fiving" his teammates. Nigel's books and papers were all over the floor.

"What' the big idea?" Nigel asked angrily and started to get into the tall kid's face.
"Excuse me?" came the reply, "I know you're not talking like that to me!"

Suddenly, a crowd gathered around when they heard raised voices and the usual chatter in the hallway fell to a dead silence.

"You bet I was," Nigel said, glaring at the kid through his black shades, "What's the deal with picking on everyone? Is that the type of guy you are? A bully?"

"Actually," was the smug response out of a smug looking face, "I'm Chad Dickson. You probably recognize me because I'm the new star quarterback for the Gallagher football team and if you want to make it at this school, if you want to have friends, you'll probably treat me with a little respect!"

Nigel waved his hand and scoffed, "That's like asking travel directions from someone who's never left their mom's basement. I'm not going to ask for advice on how to make friends from someone who's scraping at the bottom of the barrel."

Several of the nerds and geeks in the hallway started clapping, having been bullied by the football team for a while. They had certainly never seen anyone talk to Chad the way this bald guy did.

Chad looked around and saw that he was outnumbered and started to push his friends on the shoulder to get moving.

"Class act, baldy!" he said as they filed out of the hallway.

Nigel picked up his books and papers as the rest of the hallway went back to their usual chatter. That was Chad Dickson? That was the football player? That was the person that Lizzie kept raving about?

Nigel adjusted his black shades and walked out of the building and started down the crowded sidewalk to his next class.

He could see her coming from a mile away, or in this case, all the way from the administration office and up the steps. That same blond headed girl was standing at the top of the steps trying to hold her shoulder length hair from blowing in her face. She was looking out across the sea of students walking to and from class but her gaze was on something else, something distant.

Nigel kept his head low and his eyes protected behind his glossy black shades. His little episode, moments before, did not put him in the greatest mood to deal with her today. Despite his efforts, she spotted him and began to walk right towards him. Something fell in Nigel's soul as he knew this encounter would be just as awkward as all the rest but at least Lizzie wouldn't be a witness to it.

"Hey Nigel!" the blond said with a sunny smile and a wave of the arm.

Nigel tried to push through the crowd and escape but there was an overwhelming gaggle of people that were accomplishing no obvious goal other than keeping Nigel from his.

"Good afternoon Nigel!" the girl said again politely, "Have you given it any thought? Do you remember me?"

Nigel glanced over at her which only prompted her to ask again. Nigel gave up and turned completely around to walk past her.

"You don't remember me?" she begged, grabbing his arm and stopping him.

Nigel pulled his shades off with a flick of his wrist and glared at her.

"Yes, I remember you from a week or two ago at Lime Ricky's and a few hundred times before that, but before those moments I have no memory of any kind and why should I? What's this all about?" he snapped.

The girl's face shattered into sadness.

"Sorry," she said, turning away, "I guess it's a case of mistaken identity. I guess I thought you were someone you're not".

Something kicked Nigel's soul and he couldn't explain it. Was it the mystery in her eyes? Was it the panic in her trembling voice? Something told him to listen; give her audience; and if asked, to follow her to whatever dark corners her urgency required. Something told him to take heed because as frightening as it sounded and as unlikely as he wanted to believe, somewhere deep inside there was a familiarity. Was it familiarity or was it fate? There really was only one way to find out.

"I'm sorry… that was out of line". He half whispered, snapping his shades back on.

She turned with a wanting smile on her face and a look of hope in her glistening eyes. The wind brushed her golden hair from her face and wiped away what remnants of tears remained. She was not frivolous or idle but stern and to the point and her mission was very important to her. She would not have taken the leap in confiding in Nigel if she weren't absolutely positive of what she was doing.

"Tell me how we supposedly know each other." Nigel said reluctantly.

The blond girl started to talk and then grabbed Nigel's hand started pulling him off the beaten pathway and over to the grass in an awkward way that almost made Nigel reconsider his decision to listen.

"My name is Rachel McKenzie and I'm trying to save the world. We used to know each other when we were kids, but that was a very long time ago. We were part of a clandestine organization back then, The Kids Command of Defense: KCD. Does any of that ring a bell?"

Nigel shook his head and pursed his lips, irritated.

"Basically, we were a group of kids who recognized the adult tyranny that takes place on a daily basis, right in front of us. A tyranny that passive adults are conditioned to ignore; tyranny ranging from the economy and political power, to social engineering and global efforts, we monitored it all and we were good at it. We had field agents that fought against tyranny and we made a difference in the world."

Nigel chuckled, "…And we met in tree houses and wore battle armor made of common household items, right?"

Rachel's face fell, "Yeah, something like that….actually…"

Nigel began to lose interest, "Surely you don't expect me to believe something like that! I remember my childhood very well and I recall it being a good one, not laced with tyranny."

Rachel's eyes narrowed and she thrust her head up with confidence, "I don't recall any one under tyranny actually believing that they are under tyranny".

Nigel shifted his weight to his other foot, "Now listen, you expect me to believe that all adults are evil? Are you listening to what you are saying?" Nigel was walking side by side with Rachel and they started to walk off the campus and down the side walk towards the shopping district. Nigel was having trouble trying to figure out what she was really trying to say.

"No, not all adults are bad. You didn't hear what I said before. There were passive adults and aggressive adults. What we labeled as passive adults, were conditioned to believe the smoke screen that was contrived by the tyrannical adults; those in positions of power. There are tyrants everywhere Nigel, the personality traits are hard to miss."

As they walked there were the usual sights visible throughout the store fronts. There were people walking down the sidewalk, magazine stands with business, street vendors selling their wares. There was an ice cream vendor with a small stand and a silly looking umbrella, faded by many summers, sticking out of the top of it. The thing that seemed out of the ordinary to Nigel was the way that the ice cream man was staring at them. He was serving some children that had come to the kiosk, but he was very clearing watching the two with great intent. Was he some sort of creep? His thick and filthy "coke-bottle" glasses barely covered up his squinting eyes that were peering out straight to them. His uniform seemed a bit too small and his bucked teeth were in twisted into a scowl, or maybe it was just Nigel's imagination.

"Nigel," Rachel said patiently, "Did you hear what I was saying?"

Nigel started, "Oh sorry Rachel, I just…" he looked back at the ice cream man who was smiling and handling the children ice cream with absolutely no interest that he had been showing just moments before. Yet Nigel was so sure that he had been staring them down; he had followed them with his eyes as he walked down the street.

"…I just….nothing I guess." He said confused, "I thought that ice cream man had…."

Rachel cut him off, "Ice cream man? Where?"

Nigel nodded towards him and Rachel followed his gaze. When she recognized the ice cream man out of the crowded streets she grabbed Nigel's arm and turned him slightly.

"You know what," she said calmly, "I'm hungry and you look like you probably have a couple bucks, why not buy me a cheeseburger?"

She pulled him into the nearest store front which happened to be the Burger Frenzy, a local hamburger shop which was pretty famous among the college students. They ordered something and resumed their conversation as they were eating.

Rachel sat across from him while he sipped on a milkshake straw. "Let's play a word association game, Nigel. I'm going to say two words and I want you to tell me, respectively, the first thoughts that pop into your head? Got it?"

Nigel nodded, still sipping.

"Liberty and tyranny" she said, nonchalantly.

"Good and evil" he said poignantly.

"Very good," Rachel said, without skipping a beat, "You are among the few who still think in those terms. Good and evil are very much tangible elements in the world in which we live, but the vast majority of people have cast those ideas of as archaic and metaphysical. We used to live in a world which was defined by light and dark; good and evil, but those days have passed and we have been given a world in which those lines are subjective and blurred. Now the powerful places in the world are cast somewhere in between light and dark."

"Shadow, in other words", he said straightly.

"Exactly, and I believe that this aura of shadow has allowed for some very powerful people to slip in behind the stage and begin to pull at the strings which control our society. We are used to rules and standards, are we not? Even at a young age, as children, we were constantly told to come inside at a curfew, eat our vegetables, see the doctor, etc., and why? I think it's obvious that we are told so because our parents want the best for us.

However, what about the rules we are supposed to follow as adults? What about the societal conditioning of being told which careers are noble or which ones or bad? What foods we can and cannot eat? What foods are healthy and which ones are bad for us? Why are we told how we should and should not think, or what we should be motivated by? People look at me when I ask those questions, but a quick glance at the political public policy will reveal that these topics are at the heart and soul of the public debate.

Whenever we question these things, we're told we should simply follow what is "the best for us". We're told not to worry because people, supposedly more qualified than us, are on the case to solve what is best for us in life. Nigel, are you aware that the Orwellian idea of "hate speech" and the tyrannical push of so-called "tolerance" are in full acceptance by the culture right now? People are praised and punished by those criteria without even a second glance."

Nigel stirred a little in his seat

"Where do these ideas come from?" She continued, "We have these ideas, but who planted them? Our parents, our friends and family and others might be innocent from this treachery but I believe that there are adults out there who have stacked the deck. There are people in powerful positions who have set the pieces of the chessboard in such a way that they create shadowy places for themselves to hide and plot in. These people have created the society that best furthers their own personal interests. Think about it Nigel, if this scenario does exist then it would require an environment of complacency and blurred lines to function properly. I give you a quote from Samuel Adams: 'A general dissolution of principles and manners will more surely overthrow the liberties of America than the whole force of the common enemy. While the people are virtuous they cannot be subdued; but when once they lose their virtue then will be ready to surrender their liberties to the first external or internal invader'. These particular people know their history and understand the nature of the natural man."

Nigel rubbed his bald head, weighing the consequences of what she was saying, "And all adults are involved?"

Rachel shook her golden locks and closed her blue eyes momentarily, "No, not everyone, that's the point. This arena belongs to a select few, a small community of people who are outside of the spectrum. These people have conditioned society through television, communication, and the propaganda of the mass media to accept certain so-called truths and our society changes generationally because of it. We are told from the top down how to live, breath, function and think in society and when we don't conform, we are ostracized by the media or identified as a threat. Reality television, for example, has been developed by these people to create stereotypes in which we feel we must live in. We feel we need a bigger house, boat, car, etc. and we just go along with it! We want it! It seems like society has been painted in such a way that now people crave dependency. This is not natural though, it goes against everything that makes us separate from the animal kingdom. It is not American nature; it is not human nature."

Nigel was shocked that all of this was coming from the mouth of someone who he thought for sure was just having a hard time adapting to college life. She was asking some pretty important questions that required some consideration, but the consequence would be difficult to ascertain and almost infinite in its spectrum.

"What you are saying sounds almost too big to be possible" he said, eating a hand full of fries.

Rachel leaned across the table, closer to Nigel, "If it's true Nigel, then it's a conspiracy of global magnitude. It's one that reaches into the lives of every man, woman and child on the planet. It affects every person's life, no matter how small the influence."

"Who would be behind something like that?"

Rachel leaned back and shook her head, "That's just it, I don't know. That's what I need help with Nigel. I'm not talking about your average thief and thug here; I'm talking about people who are diabolically motivated. I'm talking about people who don't injure with their hands but with their heads. These people had different goals but they have one singular purpose: tyranny. Have you ever heard of the idea of utopia?"

Nigel nodded and leaned in a little closer himself. "Sure, it's a philosophical idea that some believe is a tangible objective".

"True," Rachel said, "but any realist will tell you that it is merely a philosophical idea. That plant that usually rises from the seed of this attempt is tyranny instead of utopianism. Yet, society still craves it though it might go by different names. They might call it social peace, or world peace, or security, or they will use Wall Street, the economy or any other economical mile stone that you want to describe where they can have people believing that if they just follow the system then they will have that utopia which they crave.

The people who would risk life and limb of the common people to achieve this goal are the criminals I'm talking about. They are utopians in their philosophy but they are tyrannical in their methods. These people have used the shadows of cultural acceptance, tolerance, and greed, to rise above the common culture into places of power and influence and as long as they keep the populace asleep with materialism and the weight of achieving utopia, their evil deeds will go unnoticed and without accountability. It's not aggressive tyranny Nigel, it's a passive tyranny and it's the hardest to detect and the most difficult to overcome."

Nigel pursed his lips and looked grimly into Rachel's intense eyes. What she was saying was methodically true, if such a thing did exist, it would be the greatest threat to freedom worldwide.

"These utopian soldiers, these puppet masters, they are the criminals of who I speak; they are true villains. Have you noticed how we are slowly moving towards a people who are more geared towards operating within social parameters and guidelines as opposed to innovating and creating? These things are enemies to the utopian idea because they do not conform to the wants and desires of the utopians. You can see the little changes here and there until we are basically a machine grinding for these masterminds and not for ourselves; not for our individuality and through that the community, but for the whim of these people who pull the strings."

Nigel took a drink of his soda and nodded slowly, "So what do we do about it? You're talking about 'top-down' attack; it sounds like the answer is a 'bottom-up' counterattack."

"We need to get the world to awaken, Nigel," she said with an optimistic smile, "We need to be that catalyst. When we were young, there were no limitations to our determination and faith. As we got older, the world got a lot smaller and grounded. It is that youthful innocence, hope and faith that anything is possible. Nigel, we need to resist the utopian temptation and help people to realize that it is better to rely on self than these masterminds who are ever promising and yet not able to deliver. The journey is going to be long though, Nigel, and it is going to be difficult. It's going to take a long time to track these people down and even longer to show the world that life without handouts is superior. However, once we allow the light of freedom to awaken that inner youthful spirit of determination and ambition, the rest will fall into place."

Nigel felt a chill run down his spine. Rachel was affirming what he already felt in the world around him. People were almost in a walking coma; unaware of the opportunity that lay all around them. Were there people who were stacking the deck? Could such a thing exist?

"These masterminds, who are they? Rather, what type of people are they?"

Rachel shrunk back in her seat a little. "Nigel, we are talking about people who have altered past, present and future to provide a stage for their plot of global domination to unfold upon. These masterminds are most likely not like any "people" we could imagine. We are going to chase the darkness itself; we must forge ahead into flame and shadow. I don't expect that we will find any sort of "people"; I suspect that we will find monsters and demons. To answer your questions simply, I don't know what they look like or where they hide. We will just have to follow the evidence…wherever it leads."

Nigel felt his heart swell into his chest; follow the evidence wherever it led. It would be difficult but who else would attempt such a challenge? If it were true, then someone needed to spark the world to awake. Someone needed to be the hero and bear the burdens. Could Nigel be strong enough? Did he have the resolve to continue the struggle? If it turned out to be everything that Rachel said it was then it would no doubt be a bloody and demanding war. If Nigel knew one thing about war it was that minds would begin to change when the stomachs began to turn. If they were going to tackle these demons in the dark, they would need to stay committed until the job was done. They would have to be willing to take the hits after they came again and again. If they decided to do this and weren't willing to risk it all, then they were already defeated. Rachel had quoted Samuel Adams to him earlier, but he was thinking about a quote from one of his famous country men, Winston Churchill: "A man does what he must - in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality".

"If you decide that you want to help me save the world Nigel, meet me on the Arlington Memorial Bridge tomorrow at 0630 hours", she said, while a still, small voice echoed back to him that in spite of the obstacles, the dangers, Nigel had to do what he must.

The sun was rising over the Potomac; at the edge, where it spilled into the horizon. Nigel was standing on the edge of the bridge looking out over the river. There was so much history in the capital of America and Nigel was in the middle of it. There were monuments to great men who had stood the test of their generation. They were men who were dedicated to the truth and did not shirk from it. They were giants, who had stood head and shoulders above those who would back down and hide and they served their generation with valor. They had peered into the heart of tyranny and offered the people of the young and vulnerable colonies of America a more superior way based upon intrinsic equality and liberty. Though they were small, their rag tag group of determined warriors held the most powerful Empire, at that time, at bay. Nigel felt the chill of the Atlantic breath down his red sweater and down his back. Could he do the same? Anyone who called themselves a patriot of freedom could be called upon at any time to fight for what they believed, yet so many relinquished the battle in time of peace, never mind when the trumpets of war sounded. There was such a push towards these utopian ideals that Rachel had been explaining and drawing his attention to, did he have what it took to reverse course? The world was being devoured by these master villains who had the sway of the weaker minded and the dependent.

"I knew you would be here", a voice said, which startled Nigel's thoughts.

Nigel turned his head slightly and answered with a stern look through his coal black shades, "I won't easily back down".

Rachel McKenzie was walking towards him from a few paces off. She was dressed very professionally in a slim, toned down color of turquoise pants and grey heels matched with a rich orange sweater that came down almost to her knees with a few tiger stripes on the arms and the sides. The collar of her turtleneck, a brighter color of turquoise, stuck up out of her collar slightly. Her golden hair fell at her shoulders and rustled slightly in the wind but none of it was comparable to her icy blue eyes which glowed in the sun.

"No, in the past you never did and I'm certain you never will." She said as she got closer. She looked out over the bridge with Nigel as the sun was rising. "We're about to embark towards a great task, Nigel. We are planning a philosophical revolution that will strike at the consciences of men. We are planning to tear at the veneer that these villains have used to coat the eyes of men's discerning and that will come with weighty consequence. We will no doubt rally many to our cause as it becomes more evident that the world needs saving, but not at the beginning. If this is going to succeed, we must be wholly dedicated; we cannot waiver in the slightest."

Rachel was certainly a girl of mixed signals. Her personality was strong, soldier-like, and overly professional and it clashed with her obvious femininity. Her sentences were curt and to the point and with each phrase, Nigel felt more and more inspired. Rachel was a born leader; there was no doubt about it. Nigel believed every word she was saying and new that these crowds would come, they would march to the violent heartbeat of Rachel's passion: that all men deserved to be free.

She looked into Nigel's eyes but was met with his cold and dark shades. "Will you be committed to this, Nigel?"

Nigel smiled with as much confidence as he had ever felt; his heart swelling into his chest. "I've had the night to think it over and I think it's worth diving into to. I already feel the pressure of society to get me to fit into a mold and I just can't do it. If there is a world where I do not have to be told what to eat, what kind of car to drive, what types of light bulbs I should have in my home, then that's something I want to be a part of. If we can pull this off, if we can show the world the power of liberty, then life will never be the same. I've seen this world, I've experienced it, and I'm never going back. If you can prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that what you are telling me is true, I'll fight to the ends of the earth. I will track these villains down and fight them myself. Like Paul Revere, I'll work my way into the hearts and minds of the common person and sound the alarm so they can taste a life of self-reliance.

The people that founded this country weren't founding a country alone. They were crafting the blueprints for a lifestyle that would achieve the closest thing to perfection we would get: one of self-reliance and self-determination. If this is the challenge that I must face, I will face it."

A small and warm smile danced across Rachel's face, "You want some ice cream?"