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The Fuel

Democracy Now

Rambo came in through the back door and we sat on the floor in the front room. "They still believe in the old myth," said Rambo. 

 

"What old myth?" I asked. I didn't know there was a myth.

 

"That if you hurt someone you become stronger, and have some sort of power through ripping a soul and destroying a life," said Rambo. "It's the old world myth and it's prevalent in the old developing countries with a lot of crimes. Didn't you remember your history? Those leaders from the old world, were once criminals. I think Giuseppe is one too. He might be a child molester."

 

"He's a eunuch, and supposedly a priest, well versed in all religions, especially the Bible," I said. "But, do you think they were sent to hurt Karina? To get favor and power?" 

 

"Yes, I do think Giuseppe is the leader of this ring of criminals," Rambo said. "It's not a matter of politics, it's a matter of human rights."

 

"It's The New Order, Rambo," I said, looking at his face askew. "You seriously believe they remember about human rights? That's so women's rights."

 

"The New Order specifically are made of priviledged men and women but they always asked for privilege and power and favor from the people. Everything to the advantage of The New Order," said Rambo. "They wanted something out of Karina. I don't know what."

 

"We need to ask Karina who she really is, and how she became an orphan," I said. I stood up, and dialed my hologram wrist phone. "Give me, Father."

 

The phone dialed, and Rambo stood up from the ground and told me, "I know how to get more supplies."

 

"I'm asking my Dad if we can take Karina home, and get your some supper," I said. The hologram came on, and Father was washing his hands in the emergency room, finishing up after some procedure. 

 

"Son, make it quick. I have five minutes," Father said. 

 

"A vulnerable, 12 years old, identified as a victim of assault, impregnated and now has fraternal twins. She is now living in this house," I said, quickly while scanning my wrist phone to the whole room and showing my Dad the inside of the old run-down house. My Father looked to the hologram, and dried his hands.  

 

Father stepped into the hallway of the hospital and walked into the restroom. "How did you find her?" he asked.

 

"Under a bridge, near the old Speer Boulevard, in Denver. She was asking for food to feed her babies who are two weeks old," Rambo said. He came into the hologram and showed his face to my Father. "Hi, Mr. O'Connor."

 

"Was she hurt? What's her mental state?" my Father asked. He stood with his right hand to his face, watching the hologram. 

 

"She remembered everything, and saw symbols, and I think she's severely hurt, perhaps depression, and traumatized," I said. "Can we get her home? Rambo also needs some foods."

 

"I took her into this house, and she's an orphan, soon to be homeless, Mr. O'Connor," Rambo said. "I'm emancipated, so I've got a place. If it's too much trouble for me..."

 

My Father interrupted, "Democracy lives in my house. It's my religion, and The New Order doesn't rule inside my heart. Bring her home and Rambo too, son."

 

"I'll cook. I promise it will be good," I said. My Father may work for a Banner, a Socialist Hospital, but we loved Democracy, and we believed in justice for all, the good of humanity, the power of voting, and civil and human rights. I knew my Father would help Karina, because he took a paycut to work for Banner, to give good healthcare for the poor, and he understood me.

 

"Mr. O'Connor, I'm Tier 3, so I can get some good stuff, too," Rambo said, his eyes smiling.

 

"Jake, why don't you just get home. I'll meet you there. We need to talk about this, and I can take a look at Karina and her babies," said my Father.

 

"It's safer, because she said The New Order men might be behind this," I said.

 

"WHAT?!" my Father yelled out.

 

Just write.

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