The librarian nods as you walk by encampments, vacant businesses, empty fields, and asphalt lots. You are walking towards the library. This was part of the scene from the bus. You walk by black clad men with knifes on their belts; guards who didn’t care to check them; sellers of black-market technology; illegal street food vendors; out-of-work construction workers. You keep walking and do not ask questions.
You veer off the bus route.
After walking the alley, the librarian hops into a residential unit. It was one of the few standalone homes in this urban area. It looked like no landowner was in, but the librarian rushed to the house, broke into the basement, opened a trap door, and called you down. You hear some dogs and run.
You follow the librarian’s scent and barrel through damp tunnels with some weak light from holes above. The librarian grabs you and throws you down a chute. You hold onto the edge, but the librarian kicks you down. You land on your legs and shield your face from ricochet impact.
The librarian jumps and pulls you aside. A card flashes in the damp barrack-like tunnel and a door opens. You enter and run towards a huge freight elevator. The librarian activates the elevator with a card. A beacon flashes white. You both get on the elevator. It descends the shaft in a diagonal line.
- “Outrageous violence precipitated a military authoritarian regime in 1930s Japan. Its constitution ultimately placed sovereignty in one man. As a system, the destruction and drift of institutions caused its downfall. Political competition and elections were weakened; powerful offices were not accountable to the voters; and voters cease to participate in elections that mattered. The people did not consent to their government. The government, and the man at the top, used it for his benefit.”
- “This story sounds familiar.”
- “Well, if they sniffed that kind of explanation, we would be in jail or worse.”
- “Dead in the street.” You said.
- “Now, no more waffling. You must decide for yourself. Will you renounce allegiance to the state? Do you pledge allegiance to the establishment of democracy once more in this land?”
- You look at the librarian’s eyes. You feel that they were calm as if they were ready to accept a refusal. You close your eyes and think back to your family, friends, the separation in buses, relocation, reeducation, the beatings, the humiliation, your lack of worth. You say “no” to this downfall of the free state of humanity.
- “I do so pledge.”
- “You will vote in future elections, research and care about your local community, and be in solidarity with humans and the earth we share,” the librarian said.
- “I do so pledge.”
- “When this land is ruled by the people, you will not stand curtailment, abridgment, or denial of your right to vote. You hold elected officials accountable. If the oligarchs, the plutocrats, the patriarchs cling to power, you pry it from their hands,” the librarian said.
- “I do so pledge.”
- “You are a builder, a craftsman, a technician. We need people like you in the service. You will have passage to Japan through unconventional means. Yes, Japan. You will link with the underground resistance against the Chrysanthemum League. You will coordinate with the resistance, perfect the language, be fluent in the culture, love the people, and contact us again when the time is right. You are our in-person bridge. You are now in the multi-continent resistance uprising against authoritarianism,” the librarian said.
- “No place I’ll rather be,” you said.
The elevator stops. You walk out, exit, and walk down a corridor that widens into a sewer with passages on either side. Sunlight touches the water. The bow of a boat comes toward you. The librarian runs and you follow. Is this the end? Your heart leaps yet trembles with fear.
- “Here is a member of the resistance. Another boat will take you across the ocean in a way that evades their surveillance. This will take weeks, but they are brave, dexterous folk and will get you to the western islands in the south where Saint Francis landed all those years ago.”
- “Thank you for guiding me on the way.”
- “Charting your path from here is your responsibility. Your responsibility there and mine here are the same: to reclaim a government of the people, by the people, and for the people.”
- “I do so pledge.”
You pass the librarian your card and your phone. There is no way back. The librarian nods. You trust the librarian.
You shake the librarian’s hand and receive a hug. The librarian walks back without a word into the dark. You walk towards the captain and step in the boat at the sewer’s edge. You receive a pat on the back. You help rowing the boat around and towards the bay. You skirt around some fishing vessels and enter open water. A squadron of pelicans lock their wings as they float a foot above the water.
You look at the captain. The captain smiles and you let your muscles relax. The captain points to the sails in the distance and says that’s your next ride: a sailboat? The sun sets over the bay. In a couple weeks, the red sun will rise over a new land.