S1, E5 | Those Who Get to Live

“You deserve a Free Boston that is legitimately free!” a man with shaggy hair proclaims, walking toward the front of a stage with a microphone in hand, being cheered on by thousands of people who stretch their hands out toward him as if he were the man they prayed to directly. “You’ve been taken advantage of by a man who used you to get what he wanted!” the well-supported figure declares, receiving just as much of an ovation as he had since stepping onto the stage.

“He got his capitalist utopia and all the protection that came with being the president, but it was you... the people... who were led astray!” he howls, hearing the audience scream with defiance as they bury their fist through the air. “I’m sure that leaves some of you thinking that you want another choice beside him... No! You want change!” the suited gentleman remarks, receiving a howl of support from those that gather beneath his stage, some carrying tears that stream down their faces at his presence.

“I’m sure my opponent, Mr. Sparks, believes that he’s just as much of the change candidate that I am, but he... my friends... is not” the politician remarks, shaking his head as he comes to a stop three inches from the edge of the stage, looking toward the faces with tears of joy that look up to him, placing him on a level above them that he uses to survey them from.

“The man is as greedy as the president you have now, but what he doesn’t see is what I see” the candidate declares, kneeling toward the front row whilst pointing two fingers toward his own eyes, “I see you and the suffering that you endure. I see you and the pain that you’ve been living in and I say... no more pain.”

Pushing himself off the ground, the presidential hopeful holds one hand out by his side whilst cradling the microphone with the other, his head leaning toward the shoulder opposite the arm that stretches outward. “Free Boston is in need of a miracle and we can all see that. It’s why I’ve taken the campaign slogan- as inciting as it is- of ‘Light the Sky on Fire’” the candidate vows, letting his posture correct itself as he stands upright once more, “Free Boston has found its miracle candidate, and that... my friends... is Blake Dean.”

Nodding, Blake watches the crowd stand in support whilst waving the flag of Boston, the light blue background having been purposefully deepened into a shade as deep as the ocean beyond its coastline. “We will stand tall over Mr. Spence’s nation and we will prevail as was intended” he promises, clenching his hand into a fist that he proudly displays, “we were always meant to succeed, but we were prevented by government overreach that will have no place in my administration.”

Taking a few steps backward, Dean traipses toward the side of the stage to his right whilst a bright spotlight follows his each step, panning to the crowd at times just as many of the other lanterns do. “This campaign is starting a revolution on behalf of the people, not at the people’s expense the way that Mr. Spence had it” the candidate declares, speaking to an audience that feeds into every word that he utters, sinking their teeth into it like a rabid dog would a raw steak.

“He wanted liberation from the hammer-and-sickle celebrators next door, and he used all of you to get it” Blake explains, holding a finger toward the half of the crowd that he stands before, appearing slightly more reserved in his demeanour, “Mr. Spence is a threat to our democracy.”

To the loudest ovation that he’s yet received, the candidate nods assuredly as the microphone lowers from his face, affording the audience a good look at the visage of the man they so desperately wish to save them from those who do them harm from the most powerful of all seats within the nation.

Like a figure of defiance, Blake looks at the sea of humanity that surrounds the stage with a curved end in all directions, the masses gathered in the thousands and begging the gods that they believe in to brand the one they’ve taken to declaring as one themselves to be the next leader of their unequal world.

“The world that Mr. Spence has built for you is one that more closely resembles a cage, and he’s placed you inside of it and locked the door shut” Dean remarks, shifting his hand through the air as if he were reaching for a key and sliding it into a padlock, “my friends, it is time for someone to come around and free you from that cage.”

Calmly shifting course and turning back toward the centre of the stage, Blake looks at the world that lingers within his fingers like the lingerie of a lover thrown over a changing board and caught through sheer luck. “My vision for you is a world where you are no longer confined to that cage, but you sentence Mr. Spence to live in it instead” utters the presidential hopeful, finding just as much vocal support as he had throughout the rally’s duration.

“This is a world where it takes all of us to make the change that we so desperately desire” Blake declares, holding one hand out as he looks toward the audience, holding their love within his grasp as he uses it to carry his message along. “The change is in your hands to make possible, and it doesn’t just begin at the ballot box... But it does end at it” he commands, smiling from ear to ear as he pulls in a deep breath, again proudly displaying the fist that he symbolises his change through, “light the sky on fire, my friends.”

Emphatically letting the microphone fall from his hand and collide with the ground to a resonate thud, Dean begins backstepping as the audience continues to lose their minds for his words of warfare, interjecting a passion and life to a political sphere that is ripe for someone like him to command the spotlight of. Lifting one hand into the air, he retreats for the curtain and bids his supporters adieu before the gleeful look on his face deepens beyond the point of genuinity, moulding itself into a look of pure self-satisfaction as he returns to the curtain, masking himself behind its coverage whilst the audience continues to enrapture themselves within his declaration.

= Athens of America is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards =

Huddled together nearly shoulder to shoulder as they collectively squeeze into the parking lot, Athens’ population begins quieting down from their shared banter with each other, taking notice of the arrival of a man flanked by other men of similarly dark and heavy clothing. At capacity, the chosen centre for the public address begins spilling people into the road at either side like bulbs pouring out of a sliced-open stress ball, the vast majority of the nation’s civilian life having gathered near the town’s recognisable stadium’s front entrance.

Stepping through the open slot between a scissor lift’s railing, Leon steps to the side as Velma joins him atop the platform, the chain that is attached from one end to the other after their arrival being the evidence that the pair need to control the utility. Gently pushing a joystick upward, the president ascends above the audience whilst they remain collectively silent, waiting out the man’s modest climb for an explanation many have been waiting for since the sun had first risen.

“Thank you for being here” Leon begins, ending the ascent only fifteen feet into the air, wanting to be the centre of the crowd’s attention without propelling himself too far above them. Pressing his teeth together as he lets out a visible breath, the president continues to stare outward as he lets the words that he didn’t plan for ahead of time instead come to him, not feeling the need for much of a lead-in.

“There are a few things that seem to have gotten out of hand it seems. I understand the concern and I’m open to your questions” he furthers, allowed to do so whilst Velma stands behind him and off to the side, her hands coupled together at her lap. Just now arriving to the overcrowded parking lot with a t-shirt wrapped around her face like a makeshift balaclava, Jaime crosses her arms and keeps to herself as she listens into the president’s distant voice, barely able to make it out from the distance, but assisted in the bouncing of it off the walls of each surrounding building.

“I’d like to make it clear that my visit to Free Boston earlier today has seemingly been blown way out of proportion. People have read into things that they shouldn’t” Leon claims, watching the audience mentally pull back with reservation over his correction, “there is no concern regarding Free Boston.”

“Why did you go there?” a voice calls out from the front of the crowd, immediately receiving a lifted finger from the paused and yet-quiet leader. “Hold on, I want to make sure we’ve all got a way to ask questions without stumbling over each other for an answer” Leon assures, quelling the discontent before it can be offered the chance to prevail, “I want everyone to raise a hand if they have a question. If someone asks the question you wanted to ask, lower your hand so we can answer all concerns.”

Without hesitation, hundreds of hands fly into the air, cascading the audience in a sea of palms with such an intense swarm that most faces aren’t even visible to the pair of figures standing above. “Good luck getting out of this one, Mr. President” Jaime murmurs from beneath her light layer of clothing, smirking to herself whilst taking amusement in the manner in which he inspects the audience, picking on the woman who’d initially prompted his solution to the overwhelming fleet of inquisitions.

“Yeah, I’ll ask my question again. Why did you go over there?” the woman asks for a second time, prompting nearly a third of the audience’s hands to climb down from their reach toward the heavens, a few faces emerging from beyond the wall of stretched-apart fingers. “I went there because I found out information about the tragedy that I thought might assist President Spence in his re-election bid” Leon responds, immediately watching the majority of hands that had just fallen return to the air.

“That was expected” Jaime remarks beneath her breath, crossing her arms and pressing her shoulder into the concrete wall of the building she’d been standing beside. “Since I know you want to ask, I’ll answer both questions that may have just popped into your heads” Leon remarks, getting ahead of the curve and beating most of the hands to the punch.

“I care about helping President Spence get re-elected in Free Boston because I believe he’s the candidate they have that can offer Athens the best chance at being able to thrive” Leon quips, seeing only a small set of hands fall, “and what I learned about the tragedy is that it wasn’t actually an accident.”

Immediately sparking discussion amongst the public as only a few sets of hands go down, the president listens into the banter shared amongst those beneath him whilst pausing, wanting to allow them to formulate their thoughts before pointing toward another man near the front of the crowd. “I wanted to ask if we’re going to be under attack, but now I want to know what you meant by that” the man confesses, switching his initial inquiry, “what actually happened and how do you know it wasn’t an accident?”

“We’re not going to be under attack from anyone” Leon begins, answering the man’s first question without anything even remotely resembling an open-ended statement, refusing to let the audience feast on the words unspoken. “We came into contact with a community out west that had more direct contact with the federal government prior to its dissolution” the president furthers, tucking his hands into the pockets of his winter wear, “they were informed that the tragedy had actually been a government project gone wrong.”

“So much for honesty” Jaime whispers to herself, squinting through the slot in her makeshift facial covering, its slim stretch from one side of her face to the other all that affords passers by a glimpse of her. “What was the project for?” another woman inquires, prompting absolutely no hands other than her own to fall.

“We’re not sure. They had their opinions but they never got a definitive answer before communication was lost” Leon responds, doing a commendable job in propelling his voice through the air naturally. “I know one of the next questions will be about their status, so I’ll get that out of the way right now...” the president furthers, seeing a good number of hands begin to fall as he pauses, taking in a deeper breath as he concerns himself with the reaction they’ll take to the news, “...the community out west has been lost.”

Speaking amongst themselves just as they’d be expected to, Athens’ population continues to hold their hands into the air despite no one being chosen to speak, their questions being predicted by the man without prompting. “They were of the belief that the project was one of population control. The idea that the government had enacted a plan to kill off the lesser members of its population that went further than expected” Leon comments, bringing a collective awe amongst the populace.

“We’re not sure how the bomb was dropped, but we know one was responsible for wiping out the community and sending its population scattering” he concludes, making it a mission to expel concerns already bubbling within the people’s surface, “but- whoever dropped the bomb on them- it was not Free Boston.”

“How do you know any of this!?” a woman calls out from within the audience, her question asked without being prompted whilst Leon lifts his finger toward her, attempting to quell the organisational disarray before the rest of the crowd begins huddling together and asking similar inquiries.

“Everyone, hold on!” the president proclaims, watching as a good half of the crowd take recognition of his command whilst the rest of them refuse to follow it, speaking aloud in a way that renders him incapable of hearing any of the questions being asked. Pressing her lips together as the scene grows out of hand, Velma listens to the half of the audience that had piped down at Leon’s behest begin asking their questions aloud once more, adding to the jumbled mess of incoherent nonsense.

Attempting to regain control, Leon begrudgingly starts growing impatient and frustrated, letting out a deep sigh as his head hangs to the side, looking out at the audience that surrounds him and asks for insight he can’t understand them enough to offer. Rolling her eyes, Jaime turns her back to the public assembly and looks around the road for a moment, gathering the sights within her view for a moment before looking upward, noticing the second level of the building beside her before following the sidewalk toward its entrance.

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“Leon, this isn’t going to work” Velma remarks, tapping the man on the arm and earning his direct line of sight, “all you’re doing is replacing their fears of Free Boston with fears of whoever took out the group in California.” With a frown, Leon turns away from the audience and approaches his close confidant, lowering his face close to hers in order for his voice to get a foothold over the sound of the vocal citizens.

“What do you suggest that I do, Velly? I can’t just dismiss them” the president asks, seeing little sense in doing anything other than standing around and waiting for the audience to get their aggressions out. “Either way, they’re going to go home tonight assuming that there’s someone to fear regardless” Velma retorts, looking her leader in the eyes as he takes a pause, “no matter how reassuring you can be, everyone’s going to go home tonight with this danger in the back of their heads.”

“Not everyone has to, and that’s the point” Leon responds, taking one step back toward the crowd as they continue asking for information that they’re refused the longer that they speak over each other. “Do you want answers or not!?” the president shouts toward the audience, prompting Velma to roll her eyes with a great deal of dissatisfaction worn on her face, the most-optimal plan of cutting their losses and bidding the public adieu being ignored, “you need to all quiet down then!”

As if the request were too great for them to adhere to, the most livid members of the crowd shout back with their own questions and levy their own thoughts, feeling like they’ve already given more than they’ve gotten out of the meeting. Frustrated, Leon’s shoulders fall as his palms wrap around the metal bannister, fingers locking around the small, cylindrical support whilst a heavy breath leaves through his parted lips, clouding the air and circling back upon itself until the audience’s roar goes silent with the sound of shattering glass.

Looking toward the distance just as the audience does, Leon squints toward the very back of the parking lot for a better look at the building in which the attention-thief had made their presence known. Having covered her hand with the shirt that she’d initially worn over her face, Jaime climbs onto the ledge of the shattered window and looks out among the sea of people, standing in complete silence.

“This has clearly not gone to plan, so here’s how this is going to work...” Jaime shouts, not concerning herself with whose toes she steps on or what people do or don’t want to hear, the business she has in the moment not being with making friends, but solving the problem of discontent.

“...I’m going to tell you what you need to hear, you are going to shut the fuck up, and when I’m done talking, you’re all going to wait for your leader to tell you what to do” she declares, prompting a few people within the audience to speak amongst each other, recognising the girl’s face from earlier in the day. “What are you doing?” Leon whispers aloud, asking for insight that he knows the woman could never overhear, but still intrigued by the uncertainty that her interruption brings.

“First of all, I’m Jaime. I’m the person that was in charge of the republic out west... It was called the Angelino Republic” the woman continues, pointing toward one woman in the crowd that whispers to a friend whilst widening her own eyes, “you- and everyone else- shut the fuck up. I want no one whispering among themselves. That’s final.”

Though she doesn’t physically appear anymore imposing than whomever else could stake claim to a title of leadership, the confidence and lack of hesitancy in the former chancellor’s voice prompts the gathered masses to do as they’re told, at least coming away from her declaration feeling as if she’s firm in what she says.

“The thing that you call ‘The Tragedy’ is what we out west called ‘The Catalyst’, and we don’t think it was a purposeful attempt at population control, we know it was” Jaime proclaims. “How!?” a man from within the audience just nearby to the building that she stands within calls out, again earning the woman’s ire.

“Shut your mouth, pencildick. If I hear from you again, I’m gonna leap out of this window and land on you feet first, got it?” Jaime challenges, watching the man’s head bow as he lifts a hand upward, gesturing an apology toward the woman as the rest of the audience goes quiet once more.

“Our mayor in Los Angeles was one of the people that the Catalyst killed. He was replaced by a man named Django, who we eventually overthrew” Jaime explains, surveying the audience from her elevated position. “Before we ousted him, he’d told us that the Catalyst was intended to decrease the population. The water was polluted where it wasn’t meant to, the pollution spread, and here we are” she proceeds, pausing without hearing an interruption from below for the first time all night, a feat that even Leon couldn’t assure for himself.

“Django fled, but we eventually found the helicopter he’d gotten away in crashed in the desert somewhere around Las Vegas” Jaime proceeds, lowering herself to the heating unit that she’d stood on to speak to the audience, instead choosing to take a casual seat and dangle her legs over the window’s base. “I’d sent two of my closest friends out to Colorado after we were told that the rest of the government might be staying in a base within the mountains” she recalls, “they found his plane... and his body.”

Keeping to themselves whilst their newest arrival controls the population, Leon and Velma stand back and hope for the best in the woman’s remarks, allowing themselves to embrace whatever information she offers that they’d preferred to speak about only loosely. “They were ambushed at the base. They fought back, but we lost some of our soldiers” Jaime carries on, now comfortably bouncing her legs off the concrete wall one after another, swaying them like a child overlooking a gorgeous view and enjoying her time with it.

“We discovered that there’s a weather cycle that keeps circling the globe. An acid rain storm that just keeps slowly making its way around and around again. I’m sure you’ve seen the green clouds and everything... that’s what it is” the chancellor announces, disclosing information that not even the leaders of Athens had been in charge of until now.

“Most governments completely collapsed. Society was overturned in most countries, and the few that were left standing have publicly blamed the United States” Jaime explains, no longer needing to engage the audience’s attention even if she wanted to, the information that she offers intriguing the collective populace beyond the point that their leaders could manufacture.

“Going to the base must have triggered an alarm or something that we didn’t know about when we entered. It was empty at first, but then people started showing up and claimed to be sent by me” the private citizen with all of Athens in the palm of her hand remarks, “those people were affiliated with a group of officials and military generals from the old federal government. The one that enacted the Catalyst in the first place.”

Biting his bottom lip out of worry, Leon sucks in a deep breath and hopes that his new acquaintance can subdue the blow that he’d carefully prepared to lay onto the audience, wishing she’d carry enough grace within her delivery to have a similar effect. “Those remnants called themselves the New Democratic Front. Or, alternatively, the NDF for short...” Jaime replies, pointing her finger through the air at no one in particular as her eyes survey the crowd, “...that is who bombed us.”

With their various sensations of awe, Athens’ people keep their thoughts to themselves out of fear over instigating another retaliation from the woman above, feeling like they’re finally being given some clarity that they hadn’t been trusted with before. “I don’t know what Leon wants you to believe, but the NDF is still out there. And I don’t want to put worry in your head, but I’m one hundred percent certain that they’ll find this place eventually” Jaime warns, “they won’t bomb you immediately, but I’m sure they will if you left them no other choice.”

Grimacing, Leon hides his reservations as well as he can manage whilst Velma remains standing behind him, remaining somewhat hopeful that their burden-reliever can right the ship that her words had set on a direct course of worry. “My point is that my people were saved. Some went off with the NDF to their base in Pearl Harbor while others ran before the bombs dropped” Jaime explains, shaking her head with a grin, “but everyone that deserved to live got to live.”

Her tone still loud and commanding, the chancellor’s voice begins carrying the slightest semblance of relief and hope that the rest of the audience beneath her feet begin to gravitate toward. “They lived because they weren’t afraid to band together and do what needed to be done. It’s how we took over the city and turned it into our republic, and it’s how they all saved themselves” Jaime explains, a slight lightening of her reflection taking shape.

“I don’t know how many of you have been following what’s going on over in Free Boston, but they’re in an election season right now. They’re banding together into little camps and picking someone that they want to represent every single one of them” she comments, pointing to the neighbouring nation’s direction, “do you know who’s running for their head office?”

Being met with the silence that she’d demanded upon taking over the discourse, Jaime lets her pause naturally conclude without interruption, something that brings a slight grin over her face. “One guy is telling his voters to ‘light the sky on fire’. Let me repeat that... light the sky on fire. He’s practically calling for his supporters to start a riot for him when they cast their ballots” she proclaims, a gesture that doesn’t ease the worries of those before her, “well, I’ll tell you right now that I know what I’m talking about when I say... There is no need to light the sky on fire.”

Nodding to themselves, a few sets of hands begin to applaud before the rest of the audience joins in instinctively, eliciting a few roars of approval from those within the populace whilst Leon and Velma watch on with surprised grins. “I don’t know when it will be or what it will look like, but the NDF will come knocking at your doors. And when that happens, you need to be better than what they are over in Free Boston” Jaime declares, “if you choose to see the sense in what I’m saying, then you will get to live.”

Cheering and applauding into a gradual boast, the people of Athens celebrate the woman’s words as they spark a renewed hope within those who’d come to the assembly fearing the worst, their concerns being alleviated as the chancellor of the nation they’d never known of until today smiles at their reaction. “Now, I’m going to turn this meeting over to the man who’s actually in charge of this place” Jaime declares, pointing in the direction of the lift-occupying leader, who pulls away from the machinery’s railing as his acquaintance concludes, “do what he says, go back home, and have a good night.”

With just as ceremonious of an entry as she’d made, Jaime climbs back into the building that she’d broken into and vanishes into the night, hearing the applause that she leaves behind, having righted the ship that the Athens leader refuses to let himself knock off course once more. “That will be all, I guess!” Leon announces, holding his hands out at either side whilst he looks into the good will that the public has seemingly found themselves embracing together, the president’s eyes drifting back toward the empty window that his audience-commander leaves behind, unable to take his mind away from the woman as he ends the evening on a high note.

“Meeting adjourned!”

== Athens of America ==