What if we knew who overtook the United States’ government in Fahrenheit 451?
Perched in his chair, two kilometers below the earth’s surface, sat Erik Clewis in his desk, aggressively reading through some new cases that’d been shipped his way.
“Woman found driving under speed minimum-“ Clewis pressed the familiar ink of a stamp that read WARNING on to the file before flipping to the next one.
“Mechanical Hound needs to be upgraded-“ Clewis frowned, stamping TECH DEPARTMENT on the top of the file. He was growing restless with each boring incident that appeared on his desk; half of the time the incidents were the same, and he felt he had the right to complain about it. He’d seized control of the United States government over thirty years ago, and his deteriorating mind was much due to the amount of cases he had streaming in daily for so many years. Being underground grew old, seeing the same people grew old, and never getting a chance to see for himself how his new “world” was running was more than upsetting. Granted, he knew how blind his society was to everything around them, but at least they were conforming.
Often times, he’d find himself watching the above-ground elections for president. It was something they’d set in action a while ago in order to preserve his identity. If everyone was still acting how he’d forced them to be, then they’d be so rapt with future-resident Noble’s looks that they wouldn’t even be able to care who was making them live such innocent lives. Noble was in line to be president with only Clewis’ orders given out. It was a perfect society. With an evil chuckle to himself, he flipped to the next case.
“Ex-professor found in possession of fourteen novels and two urban dictionaries-“ Clewis grinned mischievously, subconsciously reaching to retrieve his favorite stamp; it even had an indent on the side of its wooden handle from how often he readily fastened his hand around it. Gripping the stamp with a grin creeping on to his face, Clewis pressed it to the red ink just below him. He was thrilled to finally have come across a “fun” case, the type of case he always prayed for. Being rid of books above ground was what he had founded the new post-U.S. government on, and it still continued to be his favorite part over thirty years later.
With a small smile peeking up from the corners of his lips, Clewis happily pushed the red ink down on to the paper, clearly spelling out his favorite solution: BURN.
