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Madzistrale and Tom looked around them at the clearly Renaissance-inspired office: heavy curtains, plushy carpet and wood cabinets ornating the walls. An equally majestic wooden office table faced the sofa where the siblings were seated, waiting patiently for their audience with the Public Relations Advisor. The door opened, and they rose from their seat as Abraham Solomon entered his office. Madzistrale found herself admiring his handsome appearance; but when he got closer, a cold shiver unexpectedly crept up her spine. She ignored it as Abraham shook firmly their hands before sitting down in his chair, showcasing a pleasant smile as he waved them to sit back in the sofa.
“I hope you didn’t wait too long,” he asked worryingly, “paperwork is quite a busy business. I asked my secretary to bring some coffee.”
“We didn’t mind, we know how it goes,” Madzistrale pleasantly replied. “Thank you for setting some time aside and for having us, Mr. Solomon.”
She realized what was wrong with him: despite his pleasant smile and demeanour, his eyes were cold, showing no kindness or mercy, like one who had to force his way through life.
“No problem; beside, you intrigue me. It’s been some time since I can’t figure out someone,” he replied coolly.
Tom and Madzistrale blinked in surprise.
“What do you mean?” Tom asked.
Abraham laughed softly.
“No self-respecting journalists would dress up the way you do; it’s a wonder the guards bought your bluff. So if you’re not here for an interview, what does two eccentric siblings want from me?”
“Information on the behalf of citizens that we care about,” Madzistrale answered, silently wondering what gave away her relationship to Tom, considering they weren’t very much alike. “As Public Advisor, you looked like the best person to ask.”
“Ask away,” Abraham nonchalantly replied.
“We have reasons to believe that the government is purposefully allowing chaos to spread amongst its people, and offers no protection. Murder rates have risen exponentially since the election, and we have noticed a dreadful lack of public safety when we witnessed a stranger firing a weapon in the middle of a crowded plaza. The citizens are alarmed by such lack of protection. Surely that’s not good politically-wise?”
Abraham shrugged.
“Citizens always look toward having an evil to blame for their own wrongdoings. If we would act everytime someone complain about the lack of something, nothing else would get done. And ultimately, they are covering up the fact that they themselves are the cause of the wrongdoings.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Surely it’s as obvious to you as it is to me and everyone else: 80% of the issues are merely reactions to actions committed by the citizens between themselves. Past history has attempted to make logic and justice out of it; but where are we left now? The exact same problem. It’s about time people take responsibility for their actions.”
“So… You’re saying people are left fending for themselves? That’s what your great President’s plan has accomplished, and which we should somehow be in awe of?” Madzistrale accused.
“Is that really all you wanted to ask me? If so, it was a waste of time, considering your attitude,” Abraham said, sighing disappointedly as he rose from his chair. “The meeting is over...”
Annoyed, Madzistrale rose too before he finished his sentence; she snapped her arm to her side, and her Yousha sword appeared out of thin air. Raising back her arm, the sword disappeared when she opened her hand.
“Gab!” she called out; a few seconds later, she vanished.
Abraham’s eyes filled with fear and shock; he stepped back in surprise when another few seconds passed and she reappeared. Tom looked at his sister with a small smile, and then turned to Abraham.
“We can appear from nowhere, anywhere; I don’t think the President will enjoy that during a secret meeting. So either you explain to us what’s going on, or we find that out ourselves, and you get blamed for not sending us away with words of trust.”
Abraham stared at them for some time, then sat back into his chair, regaining his composure. A knock was heard on his door, and a female voice announced:
“I have the coffees, Mr. Solomon.”
“Not now, Mrs. Williams; I’ll take them myself later,” he called back.
When he turned to the siblings, his eyes regained his coldness.
“What an outstanding magic trick.”
“If that’s what you want to believe,” Madzistrale replied, a small mischievous smile on her lips.
Abraham seized them before continuing:
“Obviously you are neither partners, nor have any, considering how awkward you act in the presence of people. Which leaves you to be siblings; and two siblings usually don’t stick together that close for so long. So something happened in your youth that bonded the two of you together; and not much in life does that. So tell me, have you been satisfied when the police handled that matter?”
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“They didn’t, for nothing happened. We just got tired of seeing no one doing some good around, always expecting someone else more powerful than them to take manners into their hands. We are here to show that even ‘ordinary’ people can do it, and moreover, without falling into the easy path of blame and violence,” Madzistrale answered.
Abraham laughed.
“How naive of you.”
“Wanna bet?” Madzistrale challenged.
“I like how your ideals comfort you in your little safe world; yet never do you actually take it out on the field. Give that little theory of yours to countries at war since countless time. Try telling each side to ‘forgive and stop fighting’.”
“’An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind’. Conflicts remain today because no one dared to set the past aside and be brave enough to give a second chance.”
Abraham scorned.
“It has nothing to do with bravery or with forgiveness. Conflicts remain because that’s how people are. You’ll never be able to change that.”
“Sometimes, it does; and that’s all the world need,” Madzistrale firmly replied.
“Oh, so tell me: civilization was born nearly 10,000 years ago. Yet no centuries passed without a single war; or without chaos, or wrongdoings. If your theory would be right, today you wouldn’t even ask me those questions as we would all be living in a world of rainbows and unicorns.”
“You see it the wrong way. Despite it all, despite 10,000 years of conflicts, we are still very much standing… because of unknown persons that dared to hope and strive for a better future.”
“What do you suggest then?” Abraham challenged her.
“Do your darn job and protect innocents instead of blaming the whole world for your incompetence,” Madzistrale hotly replied.
Abraham smiled, amused at her temper.
“Well then, here’s the scenario: I put all the criminals in jail. The jails become too crowded, because guess what? Every single person out there will one day become a criminal. It’s in their nature. So, the jails become crowded, and what happens? We have no choice but to let out the criminals again. You think they learned from their mistakes? No, they’ll just do it all over again. So what do you suggest we do, then?”
He turned to Tom, amused by the constant silence.
“You don’t talk much, Tom.”
“I don’t need to; she can pretty much handle it on her own. Beside, I’m the one always talking back home,” Tom replied, smiling.
“Out of ideas?” Abraham asked back to a now silent Madzistrale, ignoring Tom. “Let me help you out. Who decided that only the police was qualified to handle criminals?”
Madzistrale stared sharply at Abraham with furious black eyes, as the realization of his words only took a slight moment to register.
“So you advocate personal vendettas? That’s your brilliant suggestion?”
“Where’s the difference?”
“You’re turning everyone into criminals!”
“Oh, so you’re admitting that humans are incapable of mercy on their own and will always turn to violence. That in absence of laws, humans are merely primitives and don’t have a sense of right and wrong. So what was your original argument already?”
Madzistrale opened her mouth, but her incensed brain could not create a reply; Tom saw her clenched fists, and took over;
“Is that Bohm’s own plan? Ruling over a bunch of criminals? Where’s the reward in that?”
“Why do you take everything so literally? What makes you think that self-defense and taking matters into one’s own hands is the same as purposefully attacking someone?” Abraham asked.
Tom understood.
“Might makes right. Talion’s Law. The law of nature.”
“Which survived for hundreds of millions of years… and will outlive us if we don’t destroy it with our recklessness,” Abraham added.
“We’re not animals!” Madzistrale spat, visibly angered.
“Don’t kid yourself,” Abraham answered coldly. “We strive to survive in any form possible. We follow our natural instincts. When human-created laws are taken away, humans return to to the basics of jungle survival, without any so-claimed ‘morality’. Where are we different? And why do you think that universal laws somehow don’t apply to us? That we’re not meant to protect ourselves by any means necessary? That in real life, everything around us is out to get us?”
“Because we were born to do more than survive! We’re meant to evolve into diferent beings. To understand things that nature sometimes can’t allow: mercy, forgiveness, love. To do things because it’s the right thing to do, not because it gives us something in return, not because we need to survive or save our skins,” Madzistrale passionately replied.
“So you would forgive a killer?”
“I won’t kill him, nor let him be killed. Someone can walk down the wrong path and decide to turn back and find the right path.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“I gave him the choice to; which is more than your mentality allows!”
“What about your own world, your planet? The things you protect? We are 10 billions on Gaea now. Every year, hundreds of native species of Gaea dies because of us, humans; not because of Nature. Waters are polluted because of only us humans; forests devastated only because of who? You guessed it, us humans. Do your researches. If you want to fight an enemy against precious life, it’s standing all around you.”
“And only us will ever be able to repair our mistakes. Only we can stop this and right our wrongs,” Madzistrale retorted.
“Don’t be so egotistical! Nature will do it, she always has.”
“Yeah, in how long? Tens of thousands years? Hundreds of thousands years? How much more devastation will happen by that time? With the proper technology, directed at healing and not destroying one another, we could do it in a few centuries’ time. It will never be like it was a million year ago; but it will be healed, and evolution will continue its course, evolving what’s existing into new amazing possibilities. That can only happen if idiots like you stop giving up and actually do something about it. Anything can be done. Housing could be much better planned. Resources could be much better handled. Energy could be created in so many harmless manners. Yet no one bothers to even try… because guess what? Giving up is way more easy and less complicated. And you get away with it by pretending that letting humans kill each other off is the ‘nature’s way’ of healing. When it’s pure laziness from your part!”
Madzistrale took a long breath; Tom smiled at her outburst. Abraham looked nonchalantly at them, and rose from his seat.
“We’ll let time tell us. But I guess you’ll only learn from experience. So stick around. You’ll see what’s the reality between your fancy illusions, and the reality of the world: humans are the worst kind of cancer. You want an end to conflicts, and to innocent destructions? Then only a major extermination will do that. Humans are selfish and they forget that every human’s existence threatens 20 different lives around them. You are right in your ideal, Madzistrale. The Doomsday that humans are bringing upon themselves is not because they are giving up and saving their own skins. Doomsday will happen because it is the right and hard thing to do to save the countless lives sharing Gaea with us.”
He pressed a command on a console sitting on his table, and a buzz was heard; he spoke out:
“Please accompany the journalists out; the meeting is over.”
“Yes sir,” an answer was heard back from the console.
“Don’t bother, we know the way out,” Madzistrale spat, rising angrily from her chair, and storming off.
“I’m so sorry for you, having such a naive sister,” Abraham said to Tom, amused.
“I’m not,” Tom retorted coolly. “If the outcome is the same, I will gladly die protecting her ideals than yours. With hers, at least humanity might have a chance ending up more compassionate than with your method. Good day!”
He bowed in a sarcastical manner and left without more words.