no longer able to contain his equanimity. He saw it and went in for the kill.
“Like I said, I am only armed with a pen, but it is indeed mightier than a sword. It is certainly mightier than Turnbull. I offer you a new door, my friend. I offer a new type of management opportunity that requires your experience, your temperament, and the loyalty you’ve shown to Turnbull.” He canted his head confidently.
“More importantly, I offer you a satisfaction, an intrinsic self-gratification, that your toil and industry will always be rewarded, recognized, respected – something even the Great Piper Turnbull himself would never consider to offer someone like you.” He glanced at the pen and back to his guest.
“In my world, the pen will always be mightier than the sword; it is, after all, the pen that swings the sword. For with a stroke of this pen, sir, I guarantee, your life is going to change.”
CHAPTER TWO
A Journey Too Far
Dear Dr. Turnbull,
What are we about? What are we building? Why is this our new goal? What is our true endgame? I apologize for the questions, but I can’t possibly address the latest challenge you’ve put to me without first understanding why you think it’s necessary to achieve it. Well, here are my thoughts as you’ve tasked me to hammer down.
You’ve clarified that the new goal of PIPER’S, Inc. can be encapsulated in but a single word: Utopia - the so-called perfect world. Everyone dreams of living in Utopia on some level, even though it may mean something different to each person. They all want it, or at least think they do, but why do some refuse to work towards such a goal? After all, a perfect world should be desirable for everyone. Is there such a place? Is it practical, let alone achievable?
Unfortunately, the problem with that theory is that Utopia actually means a loss of freedom. There’s no way it can exist in a free society. You see, freedom means freedom for things you dislike. The presence of that which you dislike, even possibly the prevalence of it, automatically makes it at least a little less than perfect.
In order to have Utopia, you must remove people’s rights. Property rights, free speech, Second Amendment rights, freedom of religion, what have you-all, freedoms have their dark sides that makes the world less perfect. For some, they accept the dark side as being preferable to losing rights. There’s always a downside to all of it. We accept that. We know that about religions, we know that about Capitalism, in which the perversion of such institutions leads to loss and suffering.
Are we right to try to correct it all? Is it too big for us? Can a few, with our strength and with our vision, still change the course of an entire nation? The duality is immense, unconscionable and frightening. We understand that the world will never be perfect, but we also understand that we should strive to make it such. No one who loves freedom truly wants a Utopia. They might think they do, but the reality is that Utopia cannot exist without sacrificing what makes humanity so truly wonderful as a whole. Free will.
The ability to decide for ourselves if we will walk in the sun or cower in the shadows; the ability to determine for ourselves how we will shape our own destiny towards whatever hopes and dreams we cling to – this freedom. The idea that we, as people, are ultimately heroic in an age when heroes are trivial and legends nonexistent. These things cannot happen in a Utopia.
And yet, we keep fighting. We keep killing to change the course of this mighty river of corruption. But will we one day be swept up in that river and drown despite our efforts? Utopia is a goal for so many people, but it’s an unattainable one. The perfect society is impossible to craft by mortal hands, because those mortal hands are attached to mortal minds –people - who are the most unreliable entities in life.
Human hands will take your noble goal and smash it like a glass figurine thrown upon the rocks. Is that what awaits as we aspire to achieve the goal of Utopia? Or, is that inevitable despite how hard or how desperate we move to create the lofty vision? Those who seek power don’t want Utopia, they want control. If there was a Utopia, they’d seek to manipulate it for their own ends - just like Capitalism, just like religion.
This is why PIPER’S, Inc. set out to do the impossible thing of ending such control. You taught us this. But did we really end it? Or, did we inspire more of it? With so many enemies eliminated, competition for those who have survived, those who hid, is lessoned, allowing for them to plan a much easier and insidious takeover. Did we not create a Utopia of sorts for them? Did we not pave an easier road to travel towards their ultimate victory?
That is where the danger of Utopia lies. It must be believed that it’s not in the achievement, but in the journey itself that we may find solace.
But that journey, when warning signs are ignored, is where we find the road to the evil castle. A hell bent, almost maniacal mission, blinded by the opacity of good and purity to achieve Utopia is when we stumble upon the path to hell. And I wonder . . . is this where we stand now, Brother?
* * * * *
PIPER’S, Inc. HQ
Northern, California
Dr. Dale Turnbull, founder and Executive Director of PIPER’S, Inc., read the document again before returning it to its folder. It was his fifth reading. He sat back in his high-backed leather chair and gazed out into the natural, ethereal beauty just outside his glass-walled office. It had rained all morning, but now the clouds had cleared. He took a sip of his cognac and glanced at the folder.
Six stories up, he literally sat within the canopy of mighty redwood trees, hidden from the world within their mighty branches and lush foliage. The view was magnificent from every angle on any given day, whether it be bathed in sunlight, glowing in moonlight, or drenched in mountain rain as lightning bolts forked across the distant sky. The spacious office of glass, leather and polished wood, the top floor of the building, was an architectural beauty that brought Turnbull to a oneness with Heaven and Earth.
He stepped through a set of glass French doors, and onto the large wooden deck with the document in his hand. The mountain breeze hit him gently as it had always done, bringing with it the fresh scent of pine and the chirping of birds. For a time, he gazed out over the panorama of forest and mountains, then raised his eyes to the cloud-streaked azure sky. This was his place. The perfect spot to ponder the enormous burden he carried and envision things far greater than anyone had previously imagined for the organization.
Although the breathtaking view never failed to ground him, humble him and refresh his perspective, today seemed different. What he’d just read made it seem different. He pulled up one of the nearby deck chairs, sat down and read the treatise written by Draven Moon, callsign Temujin, yet again. His response to his question wasn’t the answer he was expecting.
Days earlier, he sent his closest advisors a question: “Is PIPER’S, Inc. capable of bringing about an American Utopian society?” He understood that it was an awkward question, but it was something that he had been obsessing in his head for months. It was spawned by the massive success PIPER’S, Inc. had had within the past three years.
He met privately with Jim Fite, his Head of National and Political Affairs; official advisor to the Order Jon Zimmer; Vice President of the United States and personal friend Ericka Hedlin; the New Constitution author and Education Director Dr. John Belleci; and finally, his most celebrated combatant and personal friend, Director of Combat Operations, Draven Moon. Of them all, Moon was the one he trusted most.
With seemingly so little to do because of the last years of unbridled success of the organization, the responses came back within just a few days. The invited respondents all offered his or her perspective on the subject via email or point papers. They were all compelling, logical and salient in their points. Several statements stood out for Turnbull. Some poignant, some alarming as he read the treatises of his colleagues several times. For days he mulled over any possible hidden meanings or dangers, concerns, any clues to indicate that he, himself, could be on the wrong path, or