Vignettes From A Dream

A Novel by Charles Adrian Trevino

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A BETTER WORLD

David Wrathchild leaned on the thick marble banister of his luxuriant patio-balcony, gazing down at the lush, almost vertically inclined green slopes that supported his stunningly beautiful mountaintop palace. The verdant ranges spread out majestically all around him, providing not only a stunning view, but also a deterrant to any less-elevated foes that might wish to disturb the peace of the castle's occupants. With strangely mixed emotions, he was awaiting the arrival of the private helicopter that would soon be landing on the ornate heliport that had been built on the upper-most level of his castle estate; it was coming to whisk him away to what promised to be another frenzied, but very profitable business day in the heart of the far-off city of Arthuria. Soon he would be in the center of a crowd of frenetically busy people; people who, despite whatever flimsy claims to social consciousness they proffered, were mainly motivated and energized by one common trait... an abject, overriding sense of greed.

David was not incapable of deeper feelings; but to him, sentimentality was a dangerous indulgence, best kept well in abeyance most of the time. The main sentiment he did occasionally indulge was an astutely well-disguised contempt for people he deemed to be vastly mentally inferior -- the narrow-mindedly moralistic dolts that always got in the way, impeding idealistic attempts to make the world a better place for visionary persons such as himself. And there were many such dolts, it seemed. Even with the aid of his mind-bogglingly immense wealth, he could still hardly escape their annoying presence; this was because he had to practically immerse himself in the cesspools of such peoples' lives, constantly watching them in order to maintain that astronomical wealth... or so he believed. It was a seedy custom, this vigilant surveillance he was forced to practice.

And yet, he had to admit to himself that he derived a perverse enjoyment from intruding on what most people foolishly regarded as their own private affairs; he had practiced this unsavory spying for as long as he could remember. He had practically been raised on the paranoid philosophy of holding one's loved ones close, but holding one's enemies even closer. The godlike, omnipotent scrutiny which he was so capable of imposing on most anyone had been a huge factor in the acquisition of his wealth, and this had much to do with the morbid pleasure he derived from doing so... whether he liked to admit it to himself or not.

David looked down and smiled sardonically for a moment, as he recalled some of the more sordid things he had learned from this unseemly practice that he so often indulged in. "Insider" knowledge was a weapon he had used countless times, not only to manipulate and benefit from the international money markets, but also to blackmail, control, and bring his many enemies under his thumb. Digging up dirt in regards to their more secretive affairs, whether business or personal, had always been the best way of prevailing in his own business or personal matters... and this was why he had come to enjoy doing so. In truth, he really had no qualms whatsoever about spying on others; it brought great returns.

Feelings of guilt rarely troubled David; for one thing, very few people that had access to him dared to criticize anything he did, let alone something they all did themselves. And like the rest of his consorts, he could quite easily brush aside any intimations of degeneracy attached to such loathsome behavior. It was a requisite survival tactic for one thing, and could be excused on those grounds alone; but the main excuse he relied on was that everybody circulating in his social strata, be they outer or more intimate, accepted that everyone else just did it. Glossing over the fact that this "necessary, and everybody does it" rationale could be used to justify just about any socially deviant behavior he or anyone else indulged in, whether in their business or personal lives, he expediently viewed himself and his close cohorts as blameless victims of circumstance and aberrantly high technology. A heavy burden had been inexorably passed down to them, and so they could all be forgiven for anything they had to do really, in the grander scheme of things.

But such nagging, semi-guilty thoughts were threatening to distract from what was promising to be another typically rewarding day in the life of a high-stakes player, and so he quickly jettisoned them in favor of more practical ones. He would soon be conversing with the high-level constituents that reported to him daily, on various matters of import. Lately the foremost topic had been the full-scale, albeit "secret" war that he and his elitist cronies, the Yahoozi, were waging on their hapless, increasingly helpless victims -- the inhabitants of the entire civilized world. This secret campaign was conducted mainly from David's favorite place, the locale where he spent much of his time -- Angloria, the prize-jewel of all the nations of Eurlandia.

The country of Angloria had been the hub of the civilized world for centuries, but its proud heritage was now reeling from the ill-effects of the secret Yahoozi war; its economy was in a shambles, thanks to the Yahoozi elites' elaborate, time-honored battle tactics, which included shutting down the waterports that normally accepted the endless stream of cargo vessels bringing the goods the people wanted... and needed. This massive disruption of the supply chain was necessary from time to time, and always brought about beneficial results, the most useful being astronomical inflation of the money supply. The citizenry of any country would then always accept "generous" high-interest loans from the Yahoozi elite, as they believed they were receiving virtually "free" government assistance -- this was especially true in times of high unemployment, which the Yahooze also controlled by choosing just when to allow mass production of their goods. It also helped that most of the bamboozled population was blissfully unaware that they were paying off these loans in the form of monetary inflation, which was a little-understood, and therefore never-challenged invisible tax levied on their backs. And through their total domination of the schools and news-media, the Yahooze could effectively keep a country's citizenry in a perpetual state of ignorance... and docile obedience.

As he stared appreciatively at the tall mountains surrounding him, David couldn't help but smile again; it was all so easily accomplished, this "eternal debt" trap which kept all of a country's social classes under Yahoozi control, be they low, middle or higher end. All his constituents had to do was bribe, threaten, blackmail or otherwise coerce certain people in key governmental positions into doing what the Yahoozi wanted, and that country's economic, political, judicial, and military machinery would ultimately end up in their hands. The end result of these conspiracies in various countrys' governments would be total capitulation of all the world's people to the Yahoozi elite, and eventually to every adherent of this inherently declasse cult. Any person who joined and/or mated with a Yahoo would benefit, and those who didn't, especially those who opposed them or complained in the slightest way, would be destroyed... swept away with the changing tide. Ultimately, the practical-minded and liberally-base Yahooze would become like reigning Gods, ruling with total impunity and controlling every aspect of any unfortunate non-member's life.

And this was a good thing, thought David; the old aristocracy of Angloria, and indeed the entire aggregation of Eurlandia proper, had been under the mistaken impression that their staid, God-fearing religion was the best way to lead the various forms of humanity -- the hugely divergent races and classes that were constantly fighting amongst themselves. To him, this philosophy was laughable in its fragility; such high principles were ridiculously vulnerable to assault from more pragmatic forms of government. The ease with which the Yahoozi had bribed and bought their way into dominant control of every country's affairs was proof of this truth. But there were also other non-economic and non-political factors to consider.

In David's opinion, which was unanimously shared by almost every single Yahoo on the planet, the Eurlandic philosophy of governance worked just fine for Eurlandians. But these people, who were also referred to as Northkins, were quite different from the more normal, run-of-the-mill people that made up most of the planet's population; they were possessed of a relentless, aggressive drive for excellence that other races couldn't match or emulate. Their most advanced cities boasted architectural marvels that would make non-Eurlandians tremble with awe and wonder; indeed, the splendid mountaintop palace in which David was now living had been usurped from one of their vanquished kings. Many of David's relatives and closer acquaintances also lived in such stolen splendor. In David's mind, this usurpation was proof positive that the Eurlandic peoples were intended by God to be mere servants and pawns of the more cunning Yahoozi financiers; after all was said and done, who ended up living in these luxurious palaces? Obviously not the original architects and owners.

David's thoughts were suddenly interruped by the familiar repetitive chopping sound of his splendid personal helicopter, coming to fly him to a nearby airstrip where he would board his private jet. Less than an hour later he would be with his people... and the daily frenzy would begin. Of necessity, the foremost topic would be the almost complete eradication of the Eurlandic social system... and most of the non-cooperative Northkin people as well. They were to be replaced by something the Yahoozi considered less offensive, and more attainable; a new order comprised of hybridized people who thought in less demanding terms, people who didn't make the "average" person feel so squalid in comparison... people who were easier to control, and manipulate. And now that the Yahoozi had control of the ingenious Eurlandic manufacturing processes, computer-programmed robots possessing amazing abilities would be built to replace the less desirable humans... the common-herd craftsmen and laborers, who would eventually be eliminated altogether unless they proved themselves useful in some other area, such as the entertainment or sex industry.

The immediate concern, of course, would be the Dark Plague. This was the code name for an animal virus that had been modified in a laboratory to infect and destroy human beings; that effort had been instigated, financed and very well covered-up by the Yahooze pharmaceutical industry which, working in concert with the various government agencies that approved, regulated and even mandated "medicinal" drugs and products, was quite simply just a huge, practically unstoppable killing machine that was completely under Yahoozi control.

This and other equally deadly pathogens continually manufactured by Yahoozi-employed scientists could still be fought off through the usual devices of the human immune system, but were more readily dealt with through the aid of vaccines that described exactly what the immune system should look out for. However, the Yahoozi had control over who received the actual vaccine, usually a harmless remnant of the virus, or what more offensive person received the actual lab-modified virus (or other vile disease) instead. In this way, any obedient physician could determine who lived, who suffered horribly, and who died. And there were other things mixed in with the innoculations; tiny, high-technology contrivances that were beyond the understanding of the average lay-person, even those of higher education and intelligence. "Nano" devices that could receive signals from the outside world, subliminally controlling the person in whom they were implanted. Because these nano-devices were patented, Wrathchild's people considered the implantees to be their property also. It was all part of a ingenious scheme to convert what were once normal, free-thinking people into more tractable, electronically-controlled bionic slaves.

It was a brilliant battle plan concocted by the Yahoozi's highest-level think tank employees, utilizing expert advisors in various other pertinent fields of endeavor, the most important being the advanced-technology industry, the key to future control of the planet and its unwitting occupants. The science-tech wizards had greatly assisted the Yahoozi in their ability to decimate the population of any country of their choosing, by providing the means to introduce lethal chemicals into the air, soil, water and food supplies; also into their medicines, cosmetic beauty aids... even kitchen utensils. This reduction of the hyper-consuming global population was absolutely necessary, according to the learned Yahoozi elders and their scions, to preserve the deteriorating world for their own kind; and the cheapest, easiest and most profitable way to do it was in an accelerated manner requiring only a few years, instead of a few generations to carry out.

Yes, these well-rewarded geniuses were very useful indeed. They were chosen from the best and brightest people on the planet... or at least the ones who didn't recoil in disgust from the Yahoozi and their questionable, but necessarily domineering ways. They were the backbone and the spearhead of the revolutionary changes that were now sweeping over the entire world, making it a better place to live... for people like David Wrathchild.

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Vignettes From A Dream - Copyright November 2021, February 2024 by Charles Adrian Trevino.