Damon paced in his room.
Nothing he tried worked, and now the family was on the State radar.
All for nothing.
He kicked the bed, but satisfaction never followed, only a throbbing in his foot.
Handing out fliers with the Prominent group had only been the first meeting. After two more benign meetings (benign in terms of lack of violence, but not prejudical vitreeal), Gromer messaged all group members a new location.
An apartment.
Damon assumed the place to be Gromer's, but when a young man answered the door, he backed away.
"I'm looking for Gromer?" Damon held up his hands.
"He's inside. He said more of you would be coming. Kind of exciting," the stranger said.
The man wasn't a regular member, and the decor of the apartment screamed light colors, which meant anti-Prominent.
Things got further confusing when the young man served them all drinks, as Prominents vowed to live a "dry" life.
Gromer held his cup, as did every other group member. Damon dared not a sip.
"Let's plan a protest cycle!" Their host unveiled a large screen in the middle of the coffee table, complete with dates, times, and locations. "Obviously, only one person per area, or the Staties will break it up. We want to be somewhat heard, not completely muffled."
Finally, Gromer put his drink down, disrupting the touch screen interface.
"Hey!" The host put the drink on the floor. "What's your problem? No drinks on the interface!"
"We're not here to protest, at least, not for what you believe in." Gromer smiled, but lacked warmth.
Two of the other group members got up and flanked either side of the young man, waiting on Gromer to speak.
"We're here to work hard, and educate the populace on Prominent values."
"Hang on. Prominent values?" Now he looked alarmed.
"Values homos and pedos like you would never understand," Gromer said softly.
He grabbed the drink and poured it over the young man's head, who sputtered and stepped away. On either side, two men grabbed his arms and held him.
"That drink's too good for you. We've something more your speed." From his coat, he took out a vial of blackish liquid.
When he uncorked it, a pungent smell took over the room. Damon recognized the smell of feces from changing Helia's diapers.
From his face, the young man also knew what was in the vial. He clamped his mouth shut, but Gromer held his nose until he gave up and opened his mouth to breath. Opportunity in place, the vial was poured down his throat.
As he gagged, Gromer laughed. After a few seconds, he choked, burbling on the filth. The darkness smeared his mouth, and came back up all over the floor.
"Darkness to educate!" Gromer kicked the young man, who was already bent over from puking.
Damon's instinct was to run to the man's aid, and shield him from any more harm. Then he thought of his family, and how compromised they would become if he revealed his non-Prominent affiliations.
He had no choice but to watch Gromer beat the young man unconcious. He nearly puked himself, both because of the smell and the violence witnessed.
Later, Gromer took him aside and asked him to upload a video to the CAD Prominent servers.
"You made a vid of the beating?" Damon struggled to keep a neutral tone.
"Hell yeah. Prominent doctrine encourages re-education."
None of them had even worn masks. Damon hoped his face wouldn't show too much.
Uploading the vid was the last thing he did for the group. Gromer messaged different meeting areas and times, but Damon stopped showing.
Now, he realized his involvement with the group meant nothing. No extra Prominent-goody points, only a mar on his spirit.
Homos, gays he corrected himself, weren't like pedophiles, even if they weren't normal either. That guy was a person, like me, and I let him get hurt.
Damon thought he deserved any bad luck coming to him, but he wished he could absorb all the shit being tossed at his brother, too.
~*~
Sam couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to church. Had to be ten years ago or more. Technically, she had never gone to church. Ty had.
Looking around Prominent Church 102, she thought it would be the last religious spectacle she would choose to participate in. Although, she hadn't chosen to be there. She was forced.
In the center of the prayer room stood a well-groomed man. Different people kept approaching him, their eyes shining with a mixture of worship and sexual yearning.
Must be the priest.
Ticket in hand, Sam interrupted the patron speaking to the man. She thrust the ticket in the priest's face, demanding to know the number of days she would be required to attend church.
He wasn't as shocked by her behavior as Sam had hoped. The man first apologized to the other patron, and then told Sam to call him Group Leader Campion.
"Well, Group Leader Campion, when the fuck will my time here be up?"
One woman gasped. The ten or so other in the room fell quiet.
Group Leader Campion smoothed his hand over his grey beard, staring at Sam like she was a puzzle he had to solve. Finally, the stare ended. He took the citation, noted her name, and folded it carefully back into Sam's hands. Then he gave her a patronizing smirk, along with a light squeeze on her shoulder.
"Brothers and sisters, some of you are here by choice." He smiled at the familiar members, who smiled right back. "And some of you are lost, like Samantha here." Campion gestured to the disgusted clone. "Those that are lost need guidance."
Without Ty around to keep her in check, Sam spoke her mind: "I'm not lost. This bullshit ticket says I have to be here, or I go to jail."
Campion was unfazed at her outburst. His eyes maintained the sympathetic shine while he again spoke to the group.
"Obviously, we have a lot of work to do." The uneasy silence broke with a few relieved titters. "Soon, all of you will come to see a Prominent Church member makes for a stronger citizen."
Cheering and clapping followed Campion's announcement. Sam was incredulous, her eyes sweeping from each face of the members, searching for what made them different, what made them eat up the utter ridiculousness. Then she noticed one of her fellow inmates was as uninterested as she was.
Amidst the smattering of clapping, Sam crossed the room to greet Martine. They talked about why they were at Prominent Church 102, both of them being forced on due to Un-Diligent Conduct. In Martine's case, she had bad-mouthed the kiosk system at Good Time Emporium, though she'd done so while walking with friends to a bar. Somehow, Pen had found out and suspended her three days ago. She had thought that the end of it, until a citation was mailed. From her story, Sam figured Pen had been informed of her anti-kiosk words from an observation drone, though Martine hadn't guessed at it. She told Sam it was a mystery as to how she had been discovered.
Campion broke up their discussion, declaring the official start of the meeting. For two hours, he read Bible passages aloud. He spoke of Prominent values, and the safety of citizens under Prominent control. Most of the attendees swallowed Campion's castor oil, but Martine and Sam exchanged knowing glances throughout.
When the meeting was over, Sam caught up with Campion. For the third time, she asked how long she would be forced to attend meetings. His answer was,
"As long as it takes for you to see what's right."
She stared, waiting for him to make actual sense, but he moved on to the next anxious patron.
Martine met Sam at the exit.
"How'd you like your first meeting?" she asked.
"I'd rather be a man."
Martine laughed, but Sam was serious. During Campion's readings, she had noticed the unequal female to male ratio in the group. There had been eleven women and two men.
"I would say you'll get used to Campion, but I haven't yet, and this is my second meeting."
From her previous meetings, Martine had observed a pattern to the Prominent's philosophy: citizen protection was the number one priority. The way to enforce it was to promote the Prominent religion, combined with a promotion of gun ownership. Campion promised safety to those who became full-fledged party members.
"As long as you own a gun, too," Sam reiterated.
"Yeah. Didn't you see the sale table? It was set up after the meeting."
Sam hadn't noticed any table, and Martine took her blank face as an invitation to give her details.
"At the end of the meeting, they always set up a gun exchange. There's catalogs of the latest models, ready to be ordered from kiosks."
Sam was glad she hadn't seen it.
"Are you gonna join, become a lifetime member?"
"Hmm." Martine pretended to think it over. "Hell no."
The two women laughed.
"Do you wanna get a drink?"
The twinkle in Martine's eye suggested she wanted more than a drink, but Sam chose to ignore it. She accepted the invitation, reminding herself she had committed to Antoinella weeks ago. She could trust herself to have one drink with Martine. No big deal.