Chapter 1

2075 | By: | Genre: Drama | Status: In Progress | Summary:

Orwell's world envisioned in the REAL future as seen from Eurasia's POV.

Disclaimer: 

I do NOT own the story, characters, names, and themes of 1984; they are all copyrighted to George Orwell and not me. The following characters, the High Priests, my ideas about how Neo-Bolshevism will work out, and the guns listed are the only thing which belong to me.

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The jungles boomed with its eerie silence as the squad snuck just as silently through it. Their breathing was long and quiet, their movements fluid and almost like that of a feline. Their armaments were directed to their owners' sides or forward, ready to silence whatever should strike the brigade. Corporal Johnson swiftly wiped the accumulated perspiration from under his nose with his tongue, its briny flavor whipping throughout his mouth now.
[Sergeant-Sister, approaching target-point,] Johnson 'said' through his third eye. He was a Second Rank Disciple of Bal Or, patron High Priest of blood-lust and violence, and had been given a cybernetic implant on his forehead ever since birth. The device resembled a vertical, azure rhombus approximately two centimeters tall and a centimeter wide. Though they lacked the gem-like covering, all the other soldiers possessed a similar device in their central nervous system which worked like a psychic radio to others in the squad and in civilian society.
[Roger. Brothers and sisters, be on guard for anything possible. Those sinning bastards could be anywhere,] Lieutenant Oishizu told her fellow Disciples.
[Affirmative, ma'am!] they all replied.
The jungle is a terrible place to have a war in, especially if your enemy has the home-field advantage. This would often give him the upper hand at tactics such as ambushes, sniping, or any kind of conflict. Back in the days of old, when Oceania was once known as the United States, it sent troops to police an area in Eastasia once called Vietnam. This paranoia of being in a jungle surrounded by enemies was enough to drive the men to insanity during and after the war.
But that was ancient history to the squad that strolled through this jungle. No, in this day and age, these soldiers were quite different from their precursors. This new breed of soldier's gear was specially designed for their situation, they actually wanted to be in this war, and, above all else, they had divine right on their side.
A sudden crack of twigs and a swish of branches to the right-flank of the group incited their weaponry and their pugnacious fighting spirit all at once. The entire area became illuminated with yellow-white flashes and pulses as the five soldiers each unleashed Hell from their blessed instruments at whatever was there. Foliage trembled and wilted to oblivion as hot lead tore through it and cleared the zone of any sign of life. For 30 seconds the troop fired and destroyed the vegetation until their commanding officer 'told' them to cease their actions.
[Private-Brother Marcus,] Sergeant Oishizu said as the squad formed an omni-directional defense ring together. [Go see if there are any corpses where we fired at.]
[Affirmative, Sergeant-Sister,] Marcus, a man of Italian descent, said as he crept cautiously over to the fallen and torn area of the jungle.
[Private First Class-Sister Adolfina and Corporal-Sister Louise, cover our Brother.]
[Yes, ma'am!] the two women said as they readied to hit anything that looked suspicious. Adolfina was the sniper of the group with nerves of steel and an equally hard and concentrated personality. Her accuracy/reaction record was outstanding among the many Third Ranks of the Variety she belonged to, which was to be expected of those of Dea Umbrae's Order. As Marcus looked under fallen branches and large leaves, Adolfina brought her LRR-25 "Long Sword" (the official sniper rifle of Eurasia) up and ready to be fired to bring Hell or Death to the enemy.
Louise, on the other hand, was more skilled in blitzing the enemy with her BR-86 "Rapier": the official automatic rifle of Eurasia. Louise was, to say the least, the baby of the squad as she was the youngest at the fresh age of 14, just barely a woman by the Faith's standards. In public, she was a sweet and devoted young girl with very proper manners and a heart of gold; in battle, she was a cold and emotionless killing machine, caring only for efficiency and keeping the Faith with herself and her Brothers and Sisters. She hugged her rifle close to ensure her accuracy and for the feeling of the smooth steel and plastic it was comprised of.
Marcus sifted through the last bit of foliage until his boot tapped a wet lump of flesh and bone.
[Sergeant, I found one!] he called out to his superior.
[Sisters, cover us while Corporal-Brother Johnson and I investigate,] Oishizu commanded as she and the corporal jogged over to the lump Marcus was crouching at. [Private-Brother, show us the body.]
[Yes, ma'am,] the Italian soldier complied as he lifted up the now crimson and olive plant matter to reveal a young man dressed in a green cameflouge BDU typical of an Oceanic soldier.
[Private-Brother, is he alive?] Johnson asked as he took a closer look at the limp body.
[Check his pulse yourself if you want to know, Corporal-Brother,] the Japanese sergeant said as she turned the soldier's lifeless body onto his back, revealing the hideous entry wounds from the recent attack. He was armed with a now shattered Colt M5 assault rifle, and had moss-brown hair buzzed short, and a clean-shaven face; all typical characteristics of his military's soldiers.
Johnson slowly brought his first two fingers toward the man's neck and placed them under the corner of his jaw.
Nothing.
Just as he withdrew his hand, however, a faint pulse of blood pumped through his body, alarming the corporal.
[Sergeant-Sister, he's still alive!] he jumped back and drew his automatic shotgun at the body with hurry.
[Really, huh? The little heathen still wants to defy us? Good, we can extract some information from him if we hurry. Brothers Marcus and Johnson, help me dress his wounds and prepare him for interrogating once he becomes conscious. We'll only use a little bit of stimulant to keep him awake from that point on. Sisters Louise and Adolfina, continue covering for us,] the 33 year-old sergeant told her squad as she took out a small medical pack from her left waist pocket.
[Yes, ma'am!] the troupe complied as they each did as they were told. Louise and Adolfina circled around the team with equal alertness and readiness to defend their Brothers and Sister. Meanwhile the other three members of the team hurriedly tore off the survivor's uniform shirt and began cleaning his fresh wounds with antiseptics and pouring a pungent chemical into the bullet holes.
The luminous, white chemical was an acid that was engineered to dissolve only lead and lead-based molecules and turn them into a gas that would rise quickly out of the entry or exit wounds while leaving flesh intact. It was what was called "Demonic Blood" by the people of Eurasia as it was said to mimic the qualities of the blood found in the High Priests Deus Sonitum and Dea Umbrae. Whatever the case, it was a necessary item to possess in military campaigns against the enemy. As a bonus, it gave the soldiers of Eurasia a sense of national pride to know that their country's technology and development was far above Oceania, who still had to use surgical techniques to remove bullets or shot.
All three soldiers quickly covered their noses and mouth as the lead-based gases escaped into the air, so as not to receive lead-poisoning. Once the metallic mist dissipated above their heads, the two Brothers and their Sister worked on keeping the wounded soldier of Ingsoc alive. Marcus administered a simple, mechanized syringe that injected two cubic centimeters of adrenaline into his bare chest. With a jolt of his body, the soldier sat up with a long shriek of pain.
[Silence him!] Oishizu ordered her subordinates as they muffled his open maw and tried to pin him back down to the forest floor.
"Big Brother! I've found them!" the soldier called out unintelligibly. "Watch me, please!"
[Damn it! Tranq him!] And as instantly as he awoke with fury, the Oceanic soldier settled back down as a small dosage of sedatives were injected into his bloodstream, calming his nerves and relaxing him ever so slightly.
"Big...Brother...I've...I..." he mumbled as he slowly slipped into unconsciousness. But a quick slap to the face by the Sergeant-Sister woke him from his trance.
"We need some info from you, sinner," she finally used her voice, which was typical of a commanding officer: stern and, obviously, commanding. As it was instructed of all Eurasians, she spoke English, a little bit of Newspeak, and her homeland's tongue of Germano-Latin.
"You...You're not with Oceania!" the soldier panicked as he noticed the Germanic uniforms of his captors. "Get away from me you bastards!"
"Listen, you vile mongrel!" the Japanese woman snarled as she held onto the man's shoulders and brought her face close to his. "We just saved your life with the blood of our lords. You should feel honored that we're letting you live this long. Now, we can do this one of two ways, you can either confess now and we'll kill you through tranquilization, or, we'll drug you up with so much sodium pentothal that you'll be happy to defect to our nation and let us kill you painfully. So, which is it going to be?"
"You'll never win against Big Brother and Ingsoc," he declared as he spat at her face, hitting her left eye.
"Blasphemous bastard!" Johnson yelled as he slugged the man into his right cheek.
"Corporal-Brother Johnson, stand down," the woman commanded as she wiped the saliva and mucus off her elfin face and pulled out a new power-syringe. "Private-Brother Marcus, get out your vid-camera. It's time we make a convert out of this sinner to our brothers and sisters."
"Yes, ma'am!" Marcus complied as he pulled out a small, onyx device with a lens in the front and a small viewing screen hanging out to the side.
"Alright, let's get him drugged up first," Oishizu said as she punctured the follower of Ingsoc in his left arm with her medical/interrogation device. "Now, do you love Big Brother?" she asked him as he struggled in her tight grasp.
"With all my heart! I'll die for Big Brother and the Party!" he yelled. But after a few seconds of waiting by his captors, his mind began to spin and lose logic at a quickening pace. After a whole minute of further waiting, the drugs took their full effect and turned the self-righteous fanatic into a mindless drone.
"No, you don't."
"I don't?" he asked confusedly.
"No. You said you wanted to join Eurasia because you hate Oceania."
"I did?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I see."
"You also said that you would gladly betray your family and comrades for the love of Neo-Bolshevism."
"I said that?"
"Yes, you did."
"Alright. It makes sense. But then, why did you shoot me?"
"We didn't. You shot yourself with one of our blessed weapons.
"Why?"
"Because you told us that you truly wished to be forgiven of your sins through our divine instruments."
"I see now."
It was time to make a fool out of Oceania now.
"Brother, start rolling," the sergeant ordered her subordinate, who hit the red record button on the device. "Now, tell us what you just said, Brother."
"Alright," he smiled with innocence. "Let's see, I love Eurasia more than anything in the world and I absolutely hate Oceania. In fact, I renounce my family and comrades right now because I want to join Neo-Bolshevism. Now that I think about it, I've always wanted to join Neo-Bolshevism."
"And how did you receive those wounds of yours? We certainly didn't cause them."
"Oh, these?" he smiled happily now as he looked at his punctured body. "Why, I was so eager to be forgiven of my sins that I shot myself with these holy weapons your...I mean OUR kind carry around."
"Of course, brother. Now, tell us where your former comrades were."
"Oh, those sinners? About less than a kilometer to the east. Are we going to kill them?" he asked anxiously.
"No, you said you were going to kill them yourself for their vile and wicked ways."
"Oh, that's right. I guess I did say that! I promise to do a splendid job too, sister," he chirped.
"Excellent, brother. Here, take my Aldspear pistol," Oishizu smiled as she handed her side arm to the 'convert'. "Now, lead the way."
"With pleasure," the man beamed
[Alright, Private-Brother Marcus, keep rolling,] the Japanese woman began her new string of orders for her troops. [Sisters Louise and Adolfina and Brother Johnson, we're going to follow the convert and let him slaughter his comrades until either he or they are dead. Should the former happen, we'll take over and smite them all.]
[Yes, ma'am!] her troops agreed.

* * *

For the troops of the 115th Eagle Platoon, it had been a slow day. Between eating their rations every six hours and playing a few games of Patriotic Poker once every two hours, they were bored beyond all comprehension. Their mission was like any other of their fellow soldiers in this southern continental area of Oceania: protect the Home of the Brave. Simple? Yes. Exciting? Not all the time. But it didn't matter to these men who fought for their beloved country. If it meant the sacrifice of their own lives, every one of them would fight for Big Brother and the Party. But, that didn't mean that the soldiers were able to enjoy every second of it.
"Hey, Corporal Spike," a blonde haired soldier of the group asked as he sat next to his comrade on an old log. "Up for a game of-"
"No, Private Dylan, I don't want to play Patriotic Poker again," the corporal sighed. He had lost most of his ration dollars from the past five consecutive games he had played with his men.
"Heh, afraid you'll lose again?"
"Not afraid, I'm fuckin' tired of you guys always taking my ration dollars."
"But gambling is an Oceanic pastime. Losing just shows that you're willing to take the heat and be the loser for the team."
"Yeah, well I'd rather stake my odds at fighting the enemy. At least I have a fightin' chance with that," he grinned as he brandished his assault rifle.
"I hear ya on that buddy," the private chuckled as he cocked the bolt on his rifle with a noticeable clank.
"When do you suppose Private Smith will be returning? I wouldn't want to lose anyone of you guys to the goddamn terrorists," the corporal's face frowned a bit. It had been three hours now since the platoon sent one of its privates off to recon an area thought to be enemy-infested, and he hadn't returned yet. Suddenly, a gradual approach of footsteps put the soldiers of Oceania on alert mode as they armed themselves with their M5 "Liberty" assault rifles and MP 7B "Constitution" submachine guns. The 30-something-odd troops turned on their laser sights and awaited who or whatever approached.
None of the soldiers moved an inch in their positions; even the sweat on their faces from the humidity of the jungle stood in place as the great stand off began. After a stressful eternity of waiting, the target appeared before them battle-torn, shirtless, and carrying an enemy pistol.
"Hey, comrades," Private Smith smiled as he stood before his former platoon.
"Private Smith?" the Lieutenant said as he and all the other soldiers lowered their arms. "Where the hell have you been? What happened?"
"I realized something," he smiled.
"What, comrade?"
"I realize now that Eurasia is a great nation and that Oceania is a foul country full of debauchery and sin."
The platoon roared with rage at the soldier's betrayal, yet none dared to attack him immediately. They all ceased their hoots and snarls as their lieutenant raised his hand.
"So, you're betraying us?" he asked.
"Yes. And, I'm going to kill every last one of you bastards!" Smith declared as he cocked his pistol and open-fired at the Oceanic soldiers. Without hesitation, the troops unleashed their fury with their assault rifles, forcing new bullet-holes into and out of the traitor, but Smith never stopped his firing. Two soldiers' eyes rolled back in their heads as Smith's pistol embedded leaded capsules into their thick skulls while another soldier doubled over in pain as a round punctured his gut.
"For the glory of Eura-" but suddenly, Smith collapsed as his entire skull exploded from the numerous speeding bullets crushing his head to pieces. All was silent for a moment as the soldiers gazed at the treasonous lump of flesh before them, until a new barrage assaulted the soldiers from behind the jungle's foliage.
Within five seconds, seven soldiers' heads imploded from sniper rounds speeding through them and out the back. Before the rest of the soldiers could react, a rush of lead and copper was flung at their bodies, tearing their insides and forcing them to convulse with each and every impact. This carried on for twenty seconds, until all of the soldiers were dead or dying. Another eerie silence pervaded the air until a woman spoke.
"Stop rolling, Private-Brother Marcus," Sergeant Oishizu ordered, and with a simple click, the filming ceased.
"Good Bal Or almighty..." Corporal Johnson whistled as he surveyed the damage he and the squad had inflicted on their enemies. "Those heathens didn't have a chance," He chuckled as he walked over to their communications station to salvage any useful parts, pushing off corpses leaning on the tables..
"Yay! Another victory for Eurasia," Louise said with girlish glee as she skipped over to the platoon's rations for some semi-decent sustenance. If there was one thing that the Oceanic Army had on the Eurasian, other than their numbers, it was the nutrition and durability of their food supplies. Not that there was anything wrong with the freeze-dried chocolate, sausage, cheese, cabbage, and sauerkraut Eurasia supplied her soldiers, it was that Louise was a Disciple of Scorpious, and per his Variety's lifestyle, she often consumed hearty amounts of food and water along with rigorous exercise to balance it and keep her girlish figure sleek and strong.
Sergeant Oishizu and Private Marcus each pulled out their side-arms and began enforcing their will for all the soldiers they had attacked to be officially dead by plugging each their heads with a direct shot to their brains.
This task was done as an added insurance that the troop wouldn't be Arrogant and leave any soldiers alive if they were found by their comrades. The squad could have drugged and 'converted' a few more soldiers and filmed them committing suicide for their love for the Faith, but the troop would need to keep their supplies for as long as they needed until they were allowed to re-supply in approximately 48 hours from then.
[Alright, brothers and sisters,] the sergeant told her soldiers. [We need to get the hell out of here ASAP and head back to the base.]
[Yes, ma'am!]
And so the squad took what they needed and headed south to their headquarters, established near the border of the jungle area in the continent. This was a good six and a half hours away on foot, but a good hymnal here and there through their inner voices would keep their spirits up and entertained. The group kept silent as far as their voices went, but each soldier's mind was a bit giddy, at the very least, about the success of their third mission together in the campaign against Oceania.
Corporal Johnson thought about the honor he would bring his community when he would return. As a Second Rank Disciple, he was one step away from receiving the tremendously wonderful title of First Rank, which would give him new duties and responsibilities for keeping the Faith alive with its people. He was 30 now, and had been a Second Rank for a good eight years now, serving his community and family with much devotion and love to them and the Faith.
He also had a beautiful mate a year younger than he was that he had been coupled with for 15 years now and even had two children with: a 14 year old girl and a newborn son. His mate was always loyal and sprightly, yet cared for her family and community with a big heart and, if not for her son still needing to be breastfed, she would have gladly joined the Holy Army to Humble the sinners of Oceania.
[...Brother Johnson! I'm talking to you!] Adolfina said as she snapped the corporal out of his trance.
[Oh, sorry. I was daydreaming. What did you ask, sister?]
[Ugh...You need to pay attention, brother,] the German sniper sighed. [We were talking about the supplies we snagged from the base. The question I asked you was if you found anything interesting.]
[Oh, that. Well, I managed to snag their hand-held radios and a few code-breakers. I think our base can use them to intercept and then translate the sinners' transmissions.]
[Excellent work, brother,] the group congratulated the soldier together.
[Brother,] little Louise began. [I was wondering something....] she asked hesitantly.
[Yes, sister?]
[Um, would you...um...like to share one of these energy bars with me? I mean, there's too many for me to get rid of all at once and all...] Even though he wasn't looking at her, Johnson could tell the teenage girl was blushing.
[Of course, sister,] he chuckled as he turned around to face the short French girl, her normally pale cheeks a light shade of pink. He thankfully took one of the chocolate bars and began chewing the bland and gummy substance. It was like eating a piece of tar or nearly-frozen maple syrup: hard, sticky, and incredibly chewy. But, how often did soldiers of Eurasia get to indulge themselves? Even though Bal Or's Disciples such as himself ate little, it was nice to feast upon the spoils of victory every once in a while.
Moderation; that was how everyone in the Faith treated pleasure obtained from the ingestion or inhalation of substances. And it was that attitude that kept the Faith strong where the early faiths failed at. The unification of separate lifestyles under one faith was another tactical advantage Divine Retribution had against Christianity in the early days of Eurasia. Christianity, as popular as it was in Eurasia, fell to Divine Retribution's proclaiming of no afterlife and the rebirth of the old Anglo-Saxon idea of living eternally through memories of the great deeds one had done.
The two soldiers munched happily together as they continued their journey to their base, keeping their voices silent and their inner voices limited. The jungle itself was equally quiescent, as if to awe at the force of five that destroyed its native sons' group of 35.
[Brother, um...how is your family doing, last time you checked?] little Louise tried to make conversation with the Disciple of Bal Or.
[Ah, well, my daughter has been performing her duties quite nicely, so my mate tells me, and our son is just as spirited as ever in his infancy. Oh, and my mate recently saved a few sows from slaughter. It turned out they were still pregnant.]
[Oh. That's very nice to hear,] the French girl smiled as she continued to chew hard on the bland substance those Oceanic heathens called 'food.'
[How about your family, sister? What have you heard of them?]
[Oh...um...well, Daddy has been very busy with his work as a First Rank, so he hasn't come out of his study to often. Mommy on the other hand has been praying for me everyday and has been keeping herself busy with housework and gardening for the community. Mommy even made a few extra euros for selling her surplus.]
[I forget, what does you mother grow in her garden?]
[Oh, well, mostly lettuce and cabbage with an apple tree that our family has had for generations. We live a very humble life with our food supplies, despite our Variety's lifestyle.]
[I see.]
[Yeah...] the girl trailed off as she tried to think of something else to say the one she admired. She decided, however, that the joy of simply eating and walking with her superior was enough to satisfy her.
As Johnson and Louise continued to eat together, Oishizu and Adolfina discussed issues of the Faith together.
[...And of course, we'll need to be ready to matriculate the new group of children that my community just received from the Multi-Disciple communes,] Adolfina said. [Once again, ninety percent of them are girls. I think there are only three boys coming into our community this time.]
[Heh, it's a good thing your community has access to non-sexual reproductive sciences. Otherwise, my community would have to keep sending our bachelors to mate with your maidens,] the Japanese woman laughed as she took out her machete and cleared a new pathway for her and her squad.
[Of course. Tell me, how is Arbiter Brother Francisco doing? I haven't had any contact with him since our last convention.]
[Oh, our Arbiter is doing well despite his ankle sprain. The doctors say he'll be back to normal in a week from tomorrow, last I checked.]
[Praise to modern medicine, sister! I'm glad to hear his health is in good standing.]
[I'm glad to know that you care for his safety despite the Variety he belongs to.]
[Well, considering Dea and Deus's Varieties are more or less the same, it would only make sense that we of Dea's community would be concerned about the affairs of your community.]
[Well thank you, sister.]
This was what went on between the soldiers as they headed to their base together, relaxed, yet still ready to take on anything Oceania had in store for them.

Author's Notes: 

Author's Note:
This story takes place in an Orwellian world, but not during the year of 1984 as Orwell wrote about, yet all the ideas and concepts of Ingsoc rule Oceania, Deathworship rules Eastasia, and Neo-Bolshevism rules Eurasia. The faith used for Neo-Bolshevism is one I have devised with a friend of mine that we created using the concepts and ideals of a typical Orwellian society.

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