Commonwealth Essay (Final)

The Greenpeace operative stood outside the lone door at the end of the hall. A man in his early thirties, Mr Hu still retained the idealism of a teenager, and like most Asians, he aged well. The receptionist had been rather cold to him due to his looks, believing him to be a young troublemaker. He had taken it in good stride; and yet, the intimidating hallway and the hostile staff had had their effect on him. They seemed so cowed and broken, their only purpose to endure their demeaning tasks. His hand quivered slightly as it reached toward the solid gold doorknob. After years of lawsuits and politics, the law had finally broken through the loopholes exploited by Megacorp and sent an operative to have a "discussion" with its chief executive officer. Megacorp was one of the last great Multinational corporations on the planet. It had absorbed every company in its bloody path, and now contributed to over forty percent of the world's pollution and economy. The operative was hailed as a saviour, a messiah, and now, he was at his goal. How could he be afraid? Shrugging off his creeping apprehension, he turned the knob and entered the room. The room beyond the door was stark white. White walls, white floor, white ceiling, and……..a white man. There was little to suggest any personality whatsoever in the "person" that sat before him, other than a queer, extremely detailed oil painting of two serpents (a variation of the usual ouroboros), each ingesting the tail of the other. Born in Texas, Dr Breen was a name unknown to the layman. Disappearances were common among his closest colleagues, and the press was kept at bay by his army of bodyguards who took even a camera flash as a cue for immediate “self defense”. He was immaculately tidy, dressed in a sleek, jet black tuxedo that complemented his physique and a matching tie. Perhaps it was his shaved head. Perhaps it was the colour of his skin, a sheen that somehow alternated between the palest of white and green. A trick of the light, perhaps? The operative could feel an unholy aura radiating from the man that was not entirely.....human. 'Shaqi', his Chinese parents had called it. (They vanished off the face of the earth two weeks after the comment was made.) Negative energy. The man did not bother to stand. "Good evening, Mr.....Hu. Welcome. Welcome, to Megacorp." Somewhere in the facility, a scream echoed. The 'shaqi' rolled off him in waves. Mr Hu broke into a cold sweat. "Good evening, Dr Breen. I will get to the point. You have to stop your product dumping. I believe we both know what this is doing to the environment. The sea isn't even blue anymore. Children worldwide are being poisoned by what you dump into their water. Entire species have gone extinct because of you!" Dr. Breen laughed. "I am not breaking the law. This is all perfectly legal under law no. 245697831 of the constitution. The one that “takes care” of the disabled, the homeless, the USELESS, and turns them into something else, ready to serve the worthy. Megacorp is proud to be one of their…..sponsors. You see, I am merely carrying out the will of the Government,” he drawled in his Texan accent. “Politics are so entertaining.” Another scream, piercing in its desperation. "Not any longer. Either you comply with the international standards for pollution, or you will be forced to surrender hold of your company and be shut down by the government." He was uncharacteristically confident, almost amateur. “Additionally, your company’s work clearly goes against the human rights act.” “Human rights? The law was passed this morning. All who do not have jobs are now considered subhuman. Human rights do not apply for them.” “Either way, law enforcement will be coming for you,” Hu’s voice raised just a bit. Dr. Breen's eyes gleamed with barely suppressed rage. "Fool! Do you honestly believe I will be shut down by that weak excuse for a democratic government? It is I who funds this country. It is I who provides jobs for the unworthy multitudes of swine that crowd the streets. I am the future of this country! Not the "people", not nature, and certainly not you. What would this country do if I were shut down?" Dr. Breen was breathing heavily, his red face marked with sweat. "The people can find a better way to live. Technology is ultimately unnecessary. Humans will always find a way to survive. We are, after all, animals. It is in our blood. Please consider the government's proposition." "No, my dear boy, I would prefer to fight it out with the "government". My victory is assured. The truth is, boy, why would I give a damn? Who do you honestly think even cares about the problems of others? Would you "care" if I were in your shoes? Do you "care" for the legions of swine that crowd this Earth?" He was suddenly deathly calm again. Dead silence was draped around the room like a curtain. The contrast was unsettling. The debate continued. Hu realized that the beast was toying with him. Time to end this. "I see." The operative prepared to leave. He could not stop the pity flowing from his voice. It was in his nature. "You have destroyed, so much. What is it that you have actually created? Can you name me even one thing?" Silence. "I thought not." Dr Breen stood up and offered his hand. Mr Hu did not take it. "I presume you will be leaving now, Mr. Hu? Goodbye. It has been a real pleasure speaking to you. Perhaps we can arrange a spot of supper sometime…….." He smiled. Was that twinkle in his eye.....cordiality? Hu was not calm enough to recognize it. So many had seen that twinkle. When congress passed the Anti-Human law, when a rival faced the muzzle of a desert eagle, that twinkle had been the last thing on the victim’s minds. For, none of them had survived. "I hope we meet again soon." Hu turned toward the door, and died instantly as a marksman's bullet traveled clean through his head and out his left eyelid. "Cast him into the sea." Four burly security guards obeyed instantly. "Kindly clean up this mess too, and, oh, give that sniper a promotion." Hu was just another body to exit the disposal shafts of the factory that led to the sea. Dr Breen was a highly efficient man. The operative would not be missed. He had been too dangerous. Too.....idealistic. He had had some potential, and that led to revolution, something rather inconvenient for him. Yet, Dr. Breen felt a pang. Must have been something he ate earlier. Time to add the cooks to the list. The government would make noise, launch an investigation, whatever. Even though the prime suspect was him. Dr. Breen's lips crept upwards. Then, the fuss would die down, and the cycle would continue. The government would find another person to continue their intentionally ineffective quest. Dr. Breen looked out his designer window, scanning over the blazing crimson sea, once dyed a now forgotten blue. "Nice view, pity about the poor." He laughed, a screeching trill that echoed monstrously around the room, as yet another species breathed its last.....