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Ignoring the chatter, BensonSinClaire marched into the room, walking straight past the rows and rows of Society members until he reached the stage below. It was more of an auditorium than a hall. In fact, the college that I attended had one similar - of course, it wasn’t as grand, and the acoustics weren’t as good, but it had been there just the same. Sitting in that auditorium was a vastly different experience to this one. There, I had dreamed of becoming a professor of English literature - had toyed with the idea of one day owning a bookshop. My own apartment would sit neatly above my store, and in this wacked out fantasy of mine, I’d own a cat that would follow me everywhere.
But I’d long since accepted that such fanciful dreamswere just that -dreams. Daddy didn’t find any merit in me pursuing my studies further - in attending University after college, because, after all - my role in life was a simple one: become Paul Mae’s wife, have children, and uphold our family name.
Although, sometimes it didn’t feel that simple.
I knew Benson SinClaire - had known him since I was a little girl. He was the imposing man that often stopped by our home for drinks with my dad - he was the man who pinched my cheeks and told me what good genes I had for The Society pool - he was the one who had arranged the pairing between myself and Paul Mae (to my father’s delight), and he was the one that stood before us now, imposing, as he waited for the chatter to die down.
It didn’t take long. While I didn’t know Benson SinClair well, I knew that he was someone youlistenedto - someone that was accustomed to beingheard.
And for a brief, flickering, deceptive moment, I wondered what that was like - what it was like to beseen, andheard, andconsidered. To not simply be someone who existed solely for the purpose of plans to be madeforthem but to actually be part of the planning itself.
“Welcome.” Mr. SinClaire’s voice was just as imposing as I remembered, and I fought the urge not tomove- not tofidget. The dark-haired girl with her neatly cut bobslid her phone away in preparation for his speech, and it was her I chose to fixate on - because if I was looking atherandnotBenson SinClaire, I could get through this - I wouldn’t feel so afraid because she waslikeme, and ifshecould get through this without batting an eyelash, then so could I.
Only, the more I watched her, the more I realized that she and I werenotalike.
Even from all the way back here, I could see that she looked like a runway model. She was relaxed, and calm, and exuded the type of confidence that seemed to come with being pretty - with being unattainable.
Watching her only served to highlight my own insecurities because, even from this distance, I was achildcompared to her.
"You are here today because your forefathers paved the foundation for this organization."
Panic rang through my ears, flooding my eardrums with the same beat I’d walked to since childhood, itsrhythmspoke three words:you don’t belong.
"You are here today because it is your turn to ensure that we keep paving the way forward for greatness."
My chest tightened, caving in on itself as I fought an internal battle that no one else could see.
"The world is adapting - changing and shifting all the time. But so are we - our Society is mercurial by nature. The change in generations ensures that our ideas do not become stagnant - that we are able to forge forward with new ventures and creations on medicine, technology - and everything the world needs." The man paused dramatically, taking a sip of his water as if he didn’t have the entire audience held captive by his words alone.Water. That’s what I needed to ease my panic -water. My finger curled into the skirt of my pale blue dress - the one that looked more like a school uniform tailored for a child than that of a Society woman.
"Many of you may not fully understand what we are about - as is the nature of our Society. The secretiveness, the want of your parents to shield you." The bubble of my panic burst because while my parents had certainly shielded me from many things, they hadn't shielded mefrom this- from mydestiny. I knew that I was going to leave my servitudeengaged- knew that my mother had already started planning the wedding - knew that I would be pregnant in the next year, and Ievenknew which house Paul and I would live in.
No. They hadn’t shielded me from my reality, not when the family name rested upon my shoulders.
"But," he said, "you are no longer children in need of shielding." He almost sneered the last word. "You are the next generation that will fan the flames of this organization. You are the ones who will ensure that generations to come sit in this exact same spot in years to come. Greatness is created - it is not born, it is harvested, and that is what we will be doing here - harvesting for the future. Now," he raised his hand in an almost placating gesture. "Some of you will - most of you will not understand everything in one sitting, but by the end of these few months, I can promise that all of you will understand what we have achieved and strive to continue to achieve. Those pillars of greatness will rest on your shoulders. Some of you will choose to remain working within our Organization, while others will take up positions around the globe, sowing the seeds of what we stand for in an array of different ways."
"Now,” he clapped, almost gleefully. "Some housekeeping. Sleeping quarters are always shared - we pair an experienced member of the organization with an inexperienced member. This is to ensure that you truly immerse yourself in what we do here. It is too easy to stay within the bounds and friendship circles of comfort. I'm not an idiot." He chuckled at that as if what he said was comical in itself. "I know a lot of you know one another. In our small circles, wielding the influence we do, it is impossible that most of you have never met -or are least know of each other. So, this pairing serves to render those boundaries useless. The only boundary in play is that of The Society." The room broke out into applause as if he had said something life changing.
I exhaled, finally able to push my panic down - to breathe, because in this I wasn’tblind.
Each person in this room had to give three months of their lives to The Society - to the servitude program that kept the golden wheel turning. It was an honor to be part of something so great - sohistorical. Not everyone was as fortunate because every person seated in this room were the greatgreatgrandchildren of the founding forefathers of The Illuminati.
Of course, no one within our circles used that name or terminology any longer - not when it was now linked to extremists and fanatics, but the understanding was still there. We were members ofTheSociety. The change-makers - the movers and shakers of the world - the ones who had a hand in almost every aspect of civilization and technological greatness. On this, my father had been rigid in my education - constantly reminding me of who we were, where we came from, and why we were better than others.
When I examined our history, three months seemed a small cost to pay for The Society to continue its work. Three months of our lives given to The Society to learn the inner workings of where greatness came from and how it was achieved. Three months to match Society members in favorable marriages in order to continue this greatness. Three months in which we were able to disappear from the world, only to emerge baptized in our historical ways.
My breathing turned even as the crushing weight released its grip on my chest.
"We are also very fortunate to have some key instructors this season." I listened intently, almost wishing I had a notebook and a pen to scribble down the key points the man before me was relaying.
He cleared his throat - and, once more, I saw it for what it was - another dramatic pause. The truth was, we were all just playing in Benson SinClaire’s world. He was carving out a path for greatness, allowing us to walk upon the paving he lay down.
"Ajax SinClaire- my son - will once more be joining us, sharing and teaching his expertise in organizational takeovers."
I stretched slightly to see a man with dark, artfully messy hair raise his hand in greeting. He looked over his shoulder, smirking at someone in front of me. I knew Benson had a son - knewofAjax, but we had never met - there had been no point, not when every Society parent knew that each of us would end up here, confined together under one roof.
"Next, I have to mention that we are very honored to have General Paul Mae teaching combative skills -" Mr. SinClaire’s speech was cut short as a couple of girls seated in the few rows before me began cheering as Paul stood up, offering a mock bow.
His skin was golden - bronze, hisdarkhairwasstyled in a buzz cut, adding to his military persona, and even through his clothing, I could see how built his arms were. Everything about Paul seemedprecise- put together with meticulous consideration.
