The presidential announcements came out from the heavily
fortified White House where President-for-life Bush resided about one
every few months. Often he would rant about the terrorists who hid
themselves in seemingly friendly nations like Britain or France,
places that would soon be on the 'enemies' list. And occasionally he
would name a new kind of domestic foe, one that we had to watch for in
case they might sprout more terrorists. The latest announcement was
the one that had effected Suzanne and Janice, the one about...
homosexuals.
They had gaped at each other in shock, wondering if they had
heard the old man correctly. Then that sinking feeling, dread and fear
coiling inside of them both. Suzanne was much less exposed,
thankfully, she had never dared to come out for her government job,
but Janice... she was out. But the first weeks passed as they quickly
retreated into the closet, and when no one came to break down their
door, they thought they were safe.
They were wrong.
Suzanne got out of her chair, wiping at eyes that were wet
with her tears. She hesitated for a moment, then she made her way past
the messy table over to their bedroom. The double bed was a shambles,
but she strode on by it to the dresser. She opened up the bottom
drawer, ruffling through the piles of clothes crammed in there until
she finally found a nearly flat black box. It lay there ominously,
until she reached out and picked it up.
I'm guided by a signal in the heavens, I'm guided by this birthmark on
my skin. I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons, First we take
Manhattan, Then we take Berlin
Suzanne cleared the table with a single sweep of her arm,
sending the dirty plates, silverware and legal papers to the floor.
She opened up the slim black case carefully, pausing to look down at
the silvery weapon that lay there in it's gray padding. Quite
carefully she took it out, disassembling it with the ease of long
practice.
With rag and oil she cleaned each and every part, then
smoothly put it back together. She calmly slid the copper jacketed
bullets into the clip one at a time, then slapped the clip into it's
place, loading a bullet in the chamber. The gun felt oddly right in
her hand, and she could understand the lethal temptation of such
things.
Looking up, she saw one of the photos of Janice and her on the
wall, and she felt that sudden surge of loss once again. "Janice," she
murmured softly, her grip tightening on the gun. For a moment she
wanted to put the muzzle into her mouth, but she resisted the urge.
Janice wouldn't be back here, Suzanne knew that instinctively.
The government could hold you for years until they finally got a
confession from you, then publicly airing you reading a prepared
statement that you had committed the crimes you were accused of and
more, besides. Even if she got Janice back, she's be broken, not the
woman she had once known.
Suzanne raised the gun, hefting the weight as she considered
it thoughtfully. "They say that homosexuals can become terrorists,"
she murmured to herself softly, "I'll show them what happens when you
take my lover away from me." A grim little smile, "They have no idea
yet what they've done, but they're going to find out."
You loved me as a loser, but now you're worried that I just might win,
You know the way to stop me, but you don't have the discipline How
many nights I prayed for this, to let my work begun? First we take
Manhattan, Then we take Berlin.
Some nights later the news reader was reporting the news once
again. "A terrorist assault has destroyed a re-education center in New
York, freeing a number of dangerous criminals and political
dissidents. If you see any of these terrorist sympathizers it is your
duty as citizens to report them to the proper authorities."
A deep breath, "Today's danger level is Orange, repeat,
Orange. Remember, when the police ask you questions you must reply, or
risk arrest. Cooperation with the authorities is what all good
citizens do, and if you do not, you are a bad citizen...."
Decades later, the history books would make note of that day,
and it would become known as the date the second American
Revolutionary War had actually began. It would be a hard battle, and
many lives would be lost, but in time the constitution would be
restored. Never again would the rights of the citizens be put aside,
and certain names would be remembered with honor.
Janice Lane died in a re-education facility, still refusing to
name any others or to confess to any crimes. Suzanne James died in the
attack on Washington, DC, when Bush made his final stand in the White
House along with his loyalists. They, and all of the others that fell
in battle, would be remembered.
End.
Author's Notes: the title song First we Take Manhattan is by Leonard
Cohen, and the name Suzanne is also from one of his songs. The verses
in this story aren't all in the correct order, but I thought that they
worked better for my story this way.
While I'm not too anti-American, I really don't like what I've
been hearing from the US government and from many of it's politicians.
Now, I don't really see America becoming like what I've written about,
but I do think it's a direction that they could be going in. And
before you think all of this is pure fantasy, note that the US
government has held people without trial or representation for months
at a time in the war on terror, often citizens from countries that are
supposedly their own allies. Racial profiling is being used to
identify possible terrorists, and even having certain names can get
you in trouble. Even if you were born and raised in the US.
Sorry, I didn't mean to go off on a rant. Read some of Michael
Moore's books, they can be quite enlightening. Watch some
international news stations, including the BBC and CBC networks. And
for a historical view, try to track down 'Rogue State' a book on
American dirty dealings for the past thirty or so years.
Back to First We Take Manhattan Index - Back to Original Fiction Shoujo-Ai Fanfiction