FicWad

The apartment was large and tastefully decorated with furniture with sleek, simple lines. Glass and chrome seemed to dominate the living room and the only colours to be seen were black, white and grey. It wasn’t to Gerard’s taste at all, but what would he know, he would ask himself, he was only thirteen and his opinions didn’t run to interior decorating. The main living space was split level with a raised platform on one side of the room reached by climbing just a couple of steps and housed a combined snack and bar area. Occasionally Gerard or Mikey would help themselves to a snack, or even eat breakfast at the counter, making use of the coffee maker stored there, but largely it went unused unless they had adult visitors.

The view from the large window and balcony was breathtaking. Thirty floors up, in the penthouse, they could see across all of the wealthier areas of Battery City - the building was designed intentionally to block the view of the slum areas on the outskirts of the east side. If the wealthy couldn’t see the poor, they seemed better able to pretend they didn’t exist. Gerard hated the blindness to reality that most people expressed. Was it the medication? He’d heard things, bad things, but he had witnessed worse.

The artist in him caused Gerard to like the balcony a great deal. Being so high up, he felt free and connected to the sky, or at the very least, the dome that covered Battery City and protected it from the harsh ultraviolet rays of the sun now that the ozone layer was so badly damaged following the Helium Wars. So too, it protected them from the acid rain storms that often raged across the desert. At times the acid build up in the sky could be so toxic and dangerous that the dome had to be re-coated regularly - a particularly mammoth task that seemed almost never ending and was carried out by drones.

*

Today, Gerard was sitting alone on the couch turning a box of pills in his hands, and a glass of water stood on the coffee table in front of him. He seemed somehow both distracted and deep in thought as he stared into the middle-distance, focused on nothing. He didn’t even notice his and Mikey’s personal assistant arriving to stand next to the couch.

Gerard didn’t like their PA, Petra. Mikey did, but then, Mikey was younger, fully indoctrinated and much more trusting. To Gerard, Petra seemed cold and impersonal and he had long since suspected that she was Korse’s eyes and ears in their home. He also had the very distinct impression that she thought he hadn’t accepted BLI and its phoney overly-published benevolent purpose. She would be right too and because of this, he was always careful around her; the last thing he wanted was to give Korse a reason to subject him to the needles, drugs and hypnosis again. He was afraid that this time the indoctrination might work. He could not, would not, allow it.

Slightly more than three years earlier, Exterminator Korse had killed his and Mikey’s dad. He had sworn revenge against BLI and he refused to fall prey to their brainwashing. Right now, there was a new challenge: the box of pills. They had to be avoided at all costs, but first he had to find a BLI-Friendly way to refuse or his hidden hatred would be made known for all to see. There would be a time for that, but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Have you taken your medication yet, Gerard?” The woman asked, her voice stiff and almost... yes, almost cold.

Gerard looked up slowly, as if returning to the present was an effort or an act of sheer will, draining his energy. Even as he looked up, his eyes were still unfocused and his expression blank. Slowly, a questioning look graced his face and he spoke.

“Did you say something?”
“I asked if you had taken your medication yet,” the assistant repeated, tipping her head as if to press the matter.
“No,” he frowned looking back down at the box for a moment before looking up again. “I haven’t.”
“Do you need more water?” The frosty reply was bordering on condescending and Gerard’s features hardened in response.
“No, Petra,” he replied in a similar tone, throwing the box onto the coffee table and getting to his feet to offset the power imbalance of the assistant almost leaning over him. “What I want is an explanation.”

Petra’s expression morphed into a puzzled stare as she glanced at the box on the glass table before staring back at Gerard.

“What is there to explain? You have been allocated the pills and...”
“Why?” He snapped, cutting her off mid-sentence. “I’m thirteen. No one gets these pills until they’re sixteen. How come I’m getting them three years early?”
“Your sponsor must think of you as an adult,” she replied stiffly.

Gerard took a slow, deep breath, closed his eyes and clenched his fists before shaking his head. Looking up once more, he scowled as he saw she had picked up the box and was trying to hand it to him.

“My sponsor?” He replied through gritted teeth. “You mean Exterminator Korse?”
“Naturally.”
“Naturally?” Gerard nodded as he stepped away, refusing to take the box from her.
“He is yours and Mikey’s sponsor,” her tone continued, both clipped and impatient. “Who else would I be referring to? He brought you to BLI after you were orphaned, found you a career within BLI, housed you!” She swept her arm out to indicate the large and expensive apartment. “What he’s done for you is an honour.”
“An honour?”

Gerard’s eyes widened and he bit his tongue to stop himself reacting further. He knew he had to be careful. If Korse heard of his outburst, it wouldn’t take him long to realise that the memory removal and brainwashing techniques hadn’t worked quite so well on the older of the two brothers as they had on Mikey. He had lasted three years without further treatments, pretending that the first series had worked and that he had forgotten his family. He wasn’t about to throw that away for lack of control and hatred of the Exterminator.

“BLI And Korse both get something in return,” he replied, managing to calm himself quickly. “I doubt he would have made Senior so quickly if it hadn’t been for us.”
“So you all benefit from the arrangement?” Petra raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with that? You and Mikey have the honour of being the faces of BLI in the advertising and promotional campaigns and Exterminator Korse gains a higher profile. But he rightly rises through the ranks because of his ability, not his connections.”

Gerard shook his head and marched over to the large windows that took up almost an entire wall. Gazing out over the city he both loved and hated, his heart sank. While promoting BLI’s products, he had seen the corruption, manipulation and the dictatorial control over almost everything. Even the use of the Way brothers to represent BLI in campaigns was calculated. Both boys were cute and adorable and it was clear to everyone that they would turn into handsome young men. Perfect for advertising. Korse had also noted that their friend, whom Gerard had met at ballet class would perhaps be drafted in; they were similar in looks enough to pass as a third brother. BLI liked to promote themselves as a family orientated operation but the truth was much more sinister.

Better Living Industries employed entire families. In their literature, the reasoning was benevolent which suggested that it promoted a community spirit. Gerard knew, however, that their real motives centred around control. If an entire family worked for BLI they were much easier to manage and control - children would be raised in a system where complaints and rejecting BLI’s methods was simply not permitted. On an ongoing basis, control would only get tighter as people born into the system were raised to comply.

How did Gerard know this? Sadly, from terrifying personal experience. Still frighteningly fresh in his mind - kept there by a sheer act of will, so he couldn’t forget - at the age of only ten, he had witnessed Korse murder his and Mikey’s dad for refusing to join BLI. The worst of it being that the now senior Exterminator, who was also their sponsor and guardian, had opted to kill his own brother to remain loyal to BLI. And in that reality lay the real terror - Korse, originally Grant Way, was their uncle. This man, this evil and cruel man, now calling himself Korse was nothing like the man that Gerard had known and loved while growing up. To cope, Gerard much preferred to think about it in the past tense - utterly rejecting all he stood for and everything he had done to hurt them. The hardest part was knowing that following his indoctrination, Mikey had no recollection of Korse other than his current role. Gerard, however, vividly remembered that final scene; he doubted it would ever leave him.

*

Three Years Earlier

The Way family lived in a typical small but comfortable family apartment in Battery City. Uncle Grant had been a frequent visitor until he started working for BLI, after which they hadn’t seen him for months. Their dad had called him several times to invite him for Sunday lunch or to a sporting event, but it had always deteriorated into an argument. Gerard had no idea why they were arguing or why he had stopped coming to visit, but he remembered that when he arrived on that fateful day, they were all pleased to see him... at first.

Gerard and Mikey had been playing happily in one corner when their dad and uncle had begun arguing in the centre of the room. At first they kept their voices low, but it didn’t take long for the argument to escalate in both anger and volume.

“What is this, Grant?” Don Way waved the letter in his hand at his brother. “Some sort of joke?”
“Dad, look!” the small, dark-haired, ten-year-old Gerard called excitedly from under the table in the corner of the room.

Don spared a glance toward his two sons playing nearby. Both wore capes fashioned from towels and cardboard cut-out masks coloured messily in bright red, green, blue and yellow. He couldn’t help but share a smile with his eldest son, Gerard; he was never happier than when he was playing at being superheroes with his younger brother, Mikey.

“Who are you today, Gerard?” Don asked, momentarily ignoring his brother standing in front of him.
“Raygun Jones,” Gerard grinned, extending his hand as if it were a gun and making ‘zapping’ noises.
“Ooh, be careful, Gerard, you nearly got me then!” Don laughed. “What about you, Mikey? Who are you?”
“I’m Snake Boy!” he giggled, flopping down onto his belly and pretending to slither along the floor, almost pulling his shirt out of shape as the friction from the carpet held it in place.
“Snake Boy only has one weakness!” Gerard cried loudly. “Tickling!”

Gerard’s excited laughter mixed harmoniously with Mikey’s helpless giggles as he dug his hands into his brother’s sides and tickled him furiously until he was breathless and gasping. Falling forward and rolling to lie on his back as Mikey sat up, pulling irregular breaths in sharply. Despite Mikey’s still obvious amusement, it became clear to Gerard that he had been overenthusiastic and he rose immediately and began rubbing small comforting circles on his back until he settled.

Don smiled at the sight; they were so close and always looked out for each other, he hoped it would always be that way.

Grant, impatient and tired of waiting, took his brother by the elbow and steered him to the back of the room.

“This isn’t a request, Don, don’t you understand?”
“I’m not interested in working for BLI,” Don shook his head. “I have a job.”
“Not anymore, you don’t.”
“What are you talking about? Not anymore?” Don frowned deeply at Grant. “What have you done?”
“I haven’t done anything!” Grant objected vehemently. “BLI employ entire families, you know that.”
“What, so now you’ve signed up to their brainwashing, we all have to?” Don was furious and struggling to hide it in front of his sons.

Gerard looked up and frowned lightly, giving his father a brief wave and a smile.

“It’s not brainwashing!” Grant replied through gritted teeth. “It’s training, indoctrination.”
“It’s brainwashing and propaganda!” Don fumed. “Why can’t you see that?”
“You sound like you’ve been talking to rebels,” Grant scowled angrily.
“Rebels?” Don laughed, uncertain if Grant was actually serious. “You mean people who just want to get on with their lives?”
“It’s not that simple. There are four acceptable levels of existence...” Grant began to explain.
“I’ve heard them called ‘four acceptable levels of death’.”

Grant scowled angrily, but there was something underlying his anger. It looked like fear.

“As you begin to purify and…”
“Can you hear yourself talk?” Don interrupted. “Purify? This isn’t an organisation it’s a cult!”
“Dad?” Gerard was standing near to the two men now, neither having heard him approach. “Is everything okay?”

Don looked down; his son appeared nervous, possibly distressed at the raised, angry voices. Thankfully, Mikey still seemed oblivious and had gone back to adding yet more colour onto his already garish mask.

“Everything’s fine, Gerard,” he ruffled his son’s hair. “Uncle Grant and I are just talking grown-up stuff. Go help Mikey with his colouring.”

Gerard nodded, still uncertain but not wanting to be any trouble. He had noticed that recently his father and uncle had begun to argue a lot. He hoped it wouldn’t happen to him and Mikey as they got older – no, he decided, they would always be close. Returning to sit with Mikey, Gerard kept one ear on the conversation on the other side of the room; there was something about it that troubled him.

“Look, Don, this is not up for discussion,” Grant continued. “You work for BLI now. I’m here to finalise the family’s transition.”

Grant took his brother firmly by the shoulders and looked into his eyes.

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” he began, giving Don a gently shake before lowering his arms. I’m not here to convince you, I’m here to take you to BLI. It’s my job.”
“What job?”
“I’m an exterminator. I help keep BLI and Battery City perfect.”

Don Way shook his head in a combination of sadness, anger and sheer disbelief.

“It’s far from perfect! Look, Grant, I’m not working for BLI and that’s final!” he snapped gritting his teeth.
“If you don’t come with me, and I mean all of you,” he tipped his head to indicate that he also meant the children, “I’m authorised… I’m ordered to commit you to the fourth level of existence.”
“The fourth level…? I never thought I’d ever say this, Grant, but I want you out of my home. How dare you come in here and threaten us…”

Pulling out his gun from its holster, Grant stared at his brother with an expression that suddenly bordered on vacant, even cold. Don frowned deeply with uncertainty and the abrupt pause in the conversation drew Gerard’s attention once more; his eyes widening with surprise as he saw the gun in Uncle Grant’s hand.

“What are you going to do, Grant? Kill us all?”
“No, we can indoctrinate the children.”

Don’s eyes flew open in a wild fury at the suggestion that his own brother could be suggesting taking his boys to BLI to be programmed.

“Get out!” he raged, moving forward to push Grant towards the door.

A blinding white-hot flash of light filled the room and Gerard found himself scrambling to his feet as his father was falling to the floor.

“No!”

The sudden movement and the horror in Gerard’s tone drew Mikey’s attention and the younger boy was now also on his feet, clinging to Gerard, as he looked with fear and uncertainty at the lifeless body of their father.

“Gee?” Mikey began in a small voice.
“It’s… How can…” Gerard’s young mind, having witnessed his father’s murder at the hands of his uncle, was beyond confused.

Torn between running to his father’s side and comforting Mikey, Gerard was startled as Uncle Grant turned sharply, staring harshly at the two boys as he replaced his gun in its holster. There was something glacial in his stare that terrified Gerard; this was suddenly not the man he knew. This man was a stranger.

Gerard shrank back, hugging Mikey protectively as Grant moved quickly towards them. Pulling free, Mikey ran forward toward his father and Gerard’s eyes widened in panic at the idea of the six-year-old finding their father dead. It was almost a blessing when Grant stopped him, but the horror of the fact that he was the murderer did nothing to make Gerard feel that Mikey was any safer.

“Let him go!” he yelled as he saw Mikey’s fearful expression as Grant gripped his arm painfully tight.

Without even a word, Grant seized Gerard by an arm and, pulling them apart, dragged them both towards the door.

“No! Let go!” Gerard screamed as he pulled frantically against the firm grip, twisting his body to look back into the room, desperate for his father to still be alive. Searching for any sign of life in the still and silent body. “Dad!” he cried as his vision misted over.

*

Turning back to face Petra, Gerard tried to hide the pain in his eyes as once again, the terrible memory had washed over him.

“I want an explanation for the pills,” he repeated his request from earlier.
“Very well,” she replied in a clipped tone. “I’ll find out a precise reason and explain it to you.”

Gerard frowned; her words sounded very much like condescension.

Hearing the door open suddenly, Gerard looked up as Mikey slunk into the room, throwing his backpack on the couch.

“Well?” He frowned, looking first at Gerard, then Petra before glancing back to Gerard, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke again. “What’s so urgent?”

Gerard stared blankly back, oblivious to what he was referring to. Within moments, the brothers had reached the same conclusion and both turned to Petra with questioning eyes.