Chapter 4.
by Loke.
The younger Solo's jaw tightened and anger filled his eyes. "This is a lie," he told his "guide". "My father is dead. I can show you the grave, and the death certificate. He died a hero; I still have the medal THRUSH High Council presented to him posthumously."
"I don't doubt it," the elder Solo said. "A dead hero is far more useful to THRUSH propagandists than a live traitor. As a young man I believed the rhetoric; THRUSH was going to make the world a better place by removing class distinctions. Now there are only two classes: masters and slaves. I was wrong to help them overthrow the governments of the world, but while I live I can still rectify that error. Will you not help me, my son?"
Napoleon's answer was to draw the weapon no one had thought to take from him. "Even if you are my father," he growled, "you're fighting everything I grew up believing in; the very things YOU taught me were right. Now you want me to reverse my beliefs and join you in some mad quest. Why?"
He was jumped before he could fire by Illya, who quickly disarmed him and put him on the floor with his knee between his shoulder blades. "That was impolite," the Russian told him. "Don't you have any more respect for your elders than to go pointing guns at them?"
"Let him up," Julian said.
Illya released him and pulled him to his feet, though he continued to glare at him. Napoleon noted he was lovely when he was angry; his eyes were a searing blue and the flush on his cheeks and lips gave his face just the right touch of color. What was he THINKING? He was trapped and outnumbered; the only thing on his mind right now should be plans to escape.
"What do you want done with him?" the Russian asked.
"You want to know why you should help us?" the old man asked, addressing his son. "Follow me and I'll show you."
He led Napoleon on a tour of the underground hideaway. He showed him the sick and disabled workers THRUSH factories no longer employed because they couldn't keep up the exhausting pace of younger, healthier people. "These people lost their limbs and their health because all THRUSH cares about is production. The factories are hellholes filled with poisons and danger; if a worker collapses or is injured they're pulled from the line, replaced, and fired for 'malingering' or 'interfering with production'. They're not even given first aid; just thrown out on the streets to live or die as they can. We rescue the ones we can, but there are two or three deaths a shift for every factory."
They went on to a makeshift schoolroom. "Orphans, either from the factories or political 'purges'. Do you know THRUSH is now actively recruiting children for certain delicate assembly work? From the orphanages and work camps, of course; the children of the elite are much too good to waste doing 'menial labor'. These children are being denied the education which might help them to rise above the state-run slavery to fully utilize their potential. Only the children of THRUSH supervisors are being allowed to attend institutes of higher learning. Only they are being groomed for positions of responsibility. This is how the separation of masters and slaves will be effected. One group will receive all the rewards while the other does all the work."
Julian stopped and sighed. "They told us the New World Order would make everyone equal. It was a lie; most are worse off now, and only a few have benefited from it. People are starving because they have no place; they become desperate because they look at their children dying in front of them. They go out and steal food or rob someone to buy it, and the state either shoots them in the attempt or executes them as 'enemies of good order', simply because they didn't want their children to starve.."
"You want to know why I want your help? Because I'm tired of watching people die because of the government I helped to establish. We must fight back -- and win -- or within a few generations there will be no one with the strength to fight."