D. MacHale - Raven Rise

“You okay?” Courtney asked.

“I’m fantastic!” Patrick exclaimed. “This sugary drink is incredible!”

“Swell,” Courtney remarked sarcastically. “He’s wired on Dew.”

“But we have problems,” Patrick continued, ramping down. He took another hit of soda. “There’s a fellow named Naymeer who is the leader of Ravinia.”

He stopped talking long enough to gulp down more Dew. Courtney pulled it away from him.

“Easy,” she scolded. “You don’t want to be up all day.”

“Excuse me?” Patrick asked, perplexed.

“We know all about Naymeer,” Mark interjected.

He went on to explain all that had happened, from being abducted at Courtney’s house to the rally at Madison Square Garden to the meeting with Saint Dane. Patrick listened, wide eyed, while stuffing Doritos into his mouth. When Mark finished, Patrick didn’t say a word. He stared straight ahead, digging back into the Doritos bag. Courtney couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed it away from him.

“You’re making me sick!” she exclaimed.

Patrick barely reacted. He was too busy processing the information. “Traveler from Second Earth,” he muttered. “That’s not good.”

“No,” Courtney said with mock patience. “I’d say that’s really bad. What did you find out about Naymeer?”

Patrick snapped back into focus and grabbed a stack of papers he had printed out.

“It wasn’t difficult,” he explained. “This thing you call the Internet is crude, but there’s plenty of information about Naymeer.”

He handed some printouts to Mark and Courtney.

“His full name is Alexander Naymeer. He’s originally from England. An orphan. Apparently, when he was young, he was knocking on death’s door, and then he suddenly had a miraculous recovery. The doctors couldn’t explain it. The nurses called it a miracle. Whatever it was, from that moment on, the guy started telling stories about other worlds and forces larger than anyone could envision. At first people chalked it up to youthful imagination…until he started sharing his visions. Literally. He showed people images of unique people and strange animals and places that didn’t exist anywhere on Earth. They would have locked him up except for the fact that nobody could explain how he did it.”

“We know how,” Mark interrupted.

“He started acting like some kind of prophet, telling of the potential for future glory, and how this world and all others could reach a kind of nirvana, as long as the right path was followed.” Patrick dug through the pages, looking for a particular sheet. He found it and said, “Here, this is a quote: ‘We must reward excellence and condemn those whose only contribution to society is to burden.’ He said that when he was nine years old.”

Courtney held up one of the pages and made a sour face. “Disgusting. You’ve got Dorito fingerprints all over these.”

“Stop!” Mark snapped at Courtney. “This is serious.”

“Like I don’t know that?”

“Patrick, what year was he born?”

Patrick dug through some papers. “They don’t know for sure, because he was abandoned at a foundling home, but the best guess is 1930.”

“And what year did he nearly die?”

Patrick scanned the pages. “That one’s definite: 1937.”

“First Earth,” Courtney said softly.

“In England,” Mark added. “It happened when we were there. That’s when Nevva gave him my ring. It saved his life, and started a revolution.”

Patrick said, “‘Revolution’ is the right word. He’s created a cult of excellence. Its members are all special people in one way or another. They’re leaders, scientists, athletes, successful business people, brilliant students, military leaders, mathematicians. All races. All nationalities. The one thing they have in common is that in some way, they are exceptional.”

“They’re flawless,” Courtney said, echoing Saint Dane’s words.

Mark stood and paced. “It’s like he’s trying to create a superclass of people to be the new leaders of Earth, and Halla.”

“What about everybody else?” Courtney asked. “You know, the regular people?”

Patrick answered, “He never comes out and says it, but from all that I’ve read, he thinks that the people he considers to be inferior have been the cause of all the world’s ills. According to his vision, they’ll be marginalized.”

“What the heck does that mean?” Courtney asked.

“I think it means that according to Ravinia, they’re irrelevant and shouldn’t be given the same rights as others,” Patrick answered.

“Yikes” was Courtney’s response.

Mark asked, “So Naymeer’s vision for the future says the poor, the sick, the handicapped, the people who need the help of society will be considered irrelevant and treated differently?”

“Not just the poor and sick,” Patrick corrected. “It includes anyone whom Naymeer doesn’t consider to be exceptional. That means your average person will be treated as a liability to society.”

“What about old people?” Courtney asked.

Patrick shrugged. “If they don’t contribute to society in some significant way, they’re not part of Ravinia and will be treated as second-class citizens.”

D. J. MacHale

Raven Rise

Courtney added, “Wasn’t that kind of what the Nazis were all about? Creating a Super Race?”

“Yes,” Patrick answered. “At the expense of several million people who didn’t fit the profile.”

“How can people buy into this?” Courtney complained. “It’s just…wrong.”

“Not everybody does” was Patrick’s response. “There’s a whole countermovement to Ravinia. They call themselves the ‘Foundation.’ They’re fighting the cause of the common man, saying how everybody has value, and to follow Naymeer would lead to destruction. Look at this.”

Patrick looked to Mark’s computer and announced, “Play Gastigian.”

On the monitor screen, a video triggered. They saw the image of a dark-skinned man speaking directly to the camera for a TV interview.

“That’s the guy from the protest!” Courtney exclaimed. “The guy with the bullhorn.”

“Shhh, listen,” Patrick admonished.

The man on the screen spoke with passion. “Naymeer and the Ravinians are putting us on a dangerous course. To disrespect the common man, upon whose backs this world was built, is not only a grave act of injustice, it will certainly bring about the downfall of modern society. If the United Nations votes to accept and perpetuate the teachings of Alexander Naymeer, it will mark the beginning of the fall of modern man.”

The video ended on the frozen face of the passionate man. “Strong words,” Courtney said. “He’s predicting doomsday.”

“Who is he?” Mark asked.

“His name is Haig Gastigian. A philosophy professor from New York University. He’s the leading voice against the Ravinians. From what I’ve seen, he’s a hero to many, and an outlaw to the Ravinians.”

Mark shook his head in wonder. “What he’s saying is just common sense. You’d think everybody would see that.”

Patrick answered, “Many do. But Naymeer’s philosophy is pretty appealing to a lot of people. People with power. I guess people like easy answers, and he’s promising them a better world. It’s great, as long as you’re on the right side.”

Mark asked, “What’s this thing with the United Nations? Ravinia is going to be recognized as the spiritual voice of the world? How scary is that?”

“The UN General Assembly is voting on it soon,” Patrick offered. “It could very well be the beginning of the end.” Mark asked, “What do you mean?”

Patrick sighed. “It means Naymeer’s vision is wrong and dangerous. The proof of that is on Third Earth. It’s created nothing short of chaos and despair. I’m sure he hasn’t shown that particular vision to anybody.”