Although it didn't seem like it at first glance, Horatia had a plan. A risky and perhaps foolish plan, but a plan still.
Despite being everywhere and controlling pretty much everything to its heart's content, the Super Patriarchy was, at its core, a web of shadows. Fear and intimidation were two of their favorite weapons, dissimulation and denial two others often wielded against unsuspecting minds. Those that thrive in the shadows often shun the light so the best way to hit them, and hit them hard, was through exposure.
She wanted to plaster the truth about their Centers in every nook and cranny of the city. The horror and mayhem that transpired there daily to cement their unworthy rule had to be brought forth to the public, and the truth had to be undeniable.
Common-sense would dictate letting Lazendorf do all the hard work for her. With enough programming, he could serve as the perfect sleeper agent, forever a true believer in the ways of Female Supremacy, yet achieving that required the same thing Horatia felt she was missing from the start. Time was not on her side and, at every passing moment, she believed this to be even more so.
It was a strange perception, a feeling lodged deep inside her entrails she couldn't explain. The patience she had showed earlier had only allowed this lingering idea to become stronger and stronger. The more she tried to push it away, the more she realized Time would always fail her unless she mastered it herself. Despite the Professor's claims about the impossibility of it all, she believed The Super Patriarchy held the key somehow. If that were true that would explain a lot.
From an early age, they taught men and women that The Super Patriarchy's rule was inevitable, almost like a divine design engraved in the fabric of reality. Studies and investigations about the events that occurred before the dawn of the 22nd Century were forbidden or structured to prove that same thesis.
What she learned at the University wasn't History but a construct, a game of half-truths and blatant lies where the rules were subject to change at any moment if it suited them. Trying to dig deeper into this notion was always punishable, which is why few ever tried. In the end, it was easier to be a sheep than to dare to become a wolf.
She hoped that, by visiting one of the Centers herself, she could learn more about the intricacies of the system, find out its true nature and whether they had tampered the natural course of things to facilitate such an outcome. Time was not on her side because The Super Patriarchy controlled it. As ludicrous as the prospect sounded, it made sense.
"You're mistaken, Goddess," Lazendorf said. She had spent the last half an hour reinforcing her authority over his feeble thoughts yet he could snap out at any moment if she didn't keep a close eye on him. Having already called for transportation, both waited outside campus and though he stood upright, his mind still knelt.
"Am I really or is it you who know nothing about it?" She queried. "How much of an influence do you really have, anyway?"
"I'm very influential."
"But you answer to someone else in the hierarchy, don't you?"
"I... well..."
"Your hesitation just proves what I'm saying all along. You may have power but you're still a minion. Who do you answer to? Does he have a name?"
"He goes by Mister D," Lazendorf admitted and she could tell it hurt him to do so.
"What's he like?"
"We never met, Goddess. Sometimes, I receive specific instructions from him through secure channels, and that's it. I never even heard his real voice, just a distorted recording."
"Hmmm... sounds like a dick. I wonder if that's what the D. stands for. Mr. Dick," she chuckled. "What sort of things does he ask you to do?"
"Keep an eye on people of interest, report suspicious behaviors, introduce curricula alterations. I even changed the campus decoration once on his authority."
"Let me guess... those holographic monitors?"
"Yes. The Super Patriarchy wanted more control over the student populace."
"I fucking hate that Oath of yours. Mine is better, isn't it?"
"Yes, Goddess."
"Repeat it then."
"Dominance is feminine, submission is masculine. Femininity is above masculinity."
"Good. There's something else I want to ask you. You will be honest and upfront about it. Remember who is in charge."
"That's not something I can forget, Goddess."
"What really happened between you and my mother?"
"She was a person of interest many moons ago. They ordered me to keep a close eye on her, which I did. She still is but not to the same extent. As time went by that status passed on to you."
"Go on."
"Your family history makes you dangerous. Many of your ancestors opposed us. We thought we had things controlled regarding your mother but then you came along. We've been keeping a close vigilance on you since the beginning."
"Interesting... you realize you're contradicting what you told me earlier, don't you? Then again, you weren't under my control at the time. You could lie back then, but now you can't. You're afraid of me, aren't you?"
"Yes, Goddess."
"Because of my heritage?"
"In part, yes. I tried not to believe it, I tried to maintain the facade they wanted me to maintain, I tried to deny it, play the all-powerful card, but it seems my arrogance and my ego only fueled your resolve even more."
"You got that right but if you're so interested in me, you should have seen it coming... right?"
Lazendorf said nothing, returning to a submissive posture.
"Unless you did... am I walking into a trap right now?" She insisted.
He remained silent until the transportation arrived. He couldn't lie yet he couldn't talk about what he didn't know either. Obedience to her was all that mattered.
* * *
As the car rode on, leaving the bustling streets behind, Horatia's thoughts became darker, almost as dark as the color now reflected by the Skylight Dome.
The artificial protection erected many miles above their heads allowed for a controlled environment free of toxins, but it was also a weapon in its own right. It promoted a sense of safety based on isolation and the more isolated people were, the easier they were to control, especially women. Rumor has it it was showing its age with cracks appearing in the innermost layers both on the north end and the south end of the city. If they were there, they were invisible at the time though.
Even if she was walking into a trap, it felt like the only course of action to do. Horatia wasn't a fatalist but the pull of the unknown was overwhelming. She shivered at the prospect that things would never be the same after that night, yet the road was waiting no matter what.
For this reason, and this reason alone, she ignored all calls from her mother. Celeste tried to reach her half a dozen times, only to be greeted by the indifference of someone too focused on the task at hand. The last thing she needed was another lecture, one more attempt to compromise her ideals. She believed she could be successful; she believed everything would work out. Her confidence was so great it too took the form of hubris, she knew that, too. She also knew it was a small price to pay for the chance to keep on resisting their forceful brainwashing.
