Before the Flood

“We have found the individual behind the rebel organization calling themselves ‘The Flood.’ His name is Miguel. Last name is unknown.”

The lights in the small briefing room dimmed as a projector hummed to life. An image appeared on the blank wall behind the Harmony Division Officer. The image was of a man in his late twenties. His black hair was cut short at this nape but left long on top. His clothes were the typical style of civilians: black pants with a white shirt and gray overcoat. If not for the hairstyle, he would pass for any average person on the street.

The Officer continued addressing Danika, the only other person in the room. “You have been tasked with infiltrating The Flood, finding Miguel, and gathering as much intel as possible.”

The image on the wall changed to an unassuming three-story warehouse.

“This is where we believe the next rebel event will take place. Your assignment will begin this evening. Garments have been provided for you.” He indicated a cardboard box sitting on one of the empty desks. Next, he handed her a small tube similar in shape to Chap Stick. “If you need an extraction, press and hold the top for three seconds, and we will send in officers to retrieve you. This is only in case of an emergency. Otherwise, you are on your own. Questions?”

Danika pocketed the small device and stood at attention. “No, Sir. I understand.”

The Officer nodded and turned to leave. He paused before opening the door to the small briefing room. “Observe, assess, and control.”

She repeated the Harmony Division’s doctrine, remaining at attention until the Officer left the room. She grabbed the cardboard box containing her disguise and left. It was time to get ready.

~*~

The pressure of imminent rain hung heavy as Danika walked down the silent industrial road. It was well past evening, and the sound of Danika’s heels echoed down the empty streets. A chill ran up her arms, and she pulled her jacket around her tighter. She felt uncomfortable in the clothes the Division had given her to wear as a disguise. Rather than a customary pant and blouse outfit, she wore long flowing pants made of thin blue silk that billowed as she walked. The fabric wrap she wore to cover her stomach and torso was a darker shade of blue and thankfully thicker than the pants. The cloth clung to her figure, making her feel naked and exposed. She had been provided a thin white shawl to cover her shoulders and exposed collarbone but had opted for her usual black coat.

The heels she wore provided as little cover as her clinging blouse. The heels were reasonably short, not much higher than her boots, but the tops of her toes and ankles were open to the elements. It had taken numerous attempts to figure out how to secure the shoes to her feet and legs using the long scraps of material that wrapped up her legs to nearly her knees.

The whole ensemble felt unnatural, but she would not question the Division.

As she finally approached the storehouse that was The Flood’s current base of operations, she stepped into a side alley and waited. Minutes later, a small group of five individuals approached the building. They wore dark coats that reached down to hover just above the ground and were chatting loudly. Their banter echoed down the street and covered the sound of her steps as she approached them from behind. The group quieted as one knocked at a small door next to the loading bay. The door opened a crack, and someone peered out. The two exchanged a few words that Danika didn’t hear before the door swung open, and the group stepped inside, Danika hot on their heels. The guard must have assumed she was a part of the group, as he didn’t stop her as she followed. She followed the group down a long hallway to another door. This one they opened themselves and excitedly walked through.

Her senses were immediately assaulted the moment she stepped through the door. Thumping music blared from every direction, and the base was so deep that she could feel it in her bones. Bright lights strummed and flashed in the otherwise dark space. A sticky heat surrounded her. Whether that heat was from the blinding lights high above or the amount of bodies packed into the space, Danika couldn’t tell.

Overwhelmed, Danika didn’t know where to look first. Bars and tables lined the open warehouse on every side, where people crowded together. Bodies moved and writhed on numerous risen platforms throughout the area, including a massive platform in the center that was wider and taller than the rest. At some point, someone had asked for her coat and removed it from her motionless form. Though she felt cooler without the stifling garment, she feared she would stand out like a bright blue beacon. That was not the case, as everyone in the crowd wore an appalling variety of colorful clothes.

Dizzy, she managed to stumble to the nearest bar, falling more than sitting on an empty barstool. The man behind the counter, who wore only colorful body paint on his exposed torso, tried to offer her a drink, but she waved him away. She could tell by the sickly sweet and tart smell in the air that the bar served alcohol, which was strictly prohibited. She wondered if the Division already knew and made a mental note to add it to her report.

Closing her eyes, Danika took a deep breath, trying to get her rapid heartbeat under control. She silently repeated the Harmony Division doctrine until she could breathe properly. In control of her emotions once again, she looked out over the confusing mass of bodies, lights, and colors.

She hadn’t known exactly what to expect the rebel base of operations to look like, but it certainly hadn’t been this. The number of violations she observed in just a few minutes since she had arrived was too numerous to keep track of.

After centuries of war and conflict among people, every nation had come together in peace to find a solution to end their differences once and for all. After years of debate and several failed trials, an accord was finally struck. At the root of everything was emotion—rage, hate, greed, lust. Powerful emotions were enough to lead even the most pious of people astray, blinding themselves to logic. As such, a global decision was made to suppress emotions. The mandate took decades to establish and control, finally coming into full effect with the invention of suppressant medication provided to all citizens. The world finally saw a time of peace the likes had never seen before. Without greed, crime vanished. Without rage and hate, disputes were settled with levelheadedness and pragmatism.

Despite the global peace, there were still factions who openly opposed the emotional suppression, claiming the act to be against the very nature of humanity. To combat those rebellious factions, the Harmony Division was founded. An elite force of agents trained in combat, negotiation, infiltration, and survival. Their mission was to track down resistance organizations and put an end to the very atrocities Danika observed at that moment.

She felt the urge to sneer with disgust at the sight but managed to rear in her emotions quickly, just as she had been trained. She had graduated from the academy at the top of her class, and this place and its influence were already pulling emotion from her. It was no wonder the Division wanted this group, The Flood, to be eradicated as soon as possible.

She had successfully infiltrated the establishment, but how was she supposed to find Miguel in this crowd? By some stroke of luck, she was saved from her predicament as the man himself emerged from the crowd and headed directly to the bar and empty space next to her. She watched as he leaned across the bar and shouted to get the naked-torso-man’s attention. They exchanged a few words, and Miguel was handed a bottle of what Danika assumed was alcohol.

He glanced at her twice out of the corner of his eye before turning to face her.

“Are you alright?”

Danika blinked, realizing that she had been staring. She didn’t want to shout over the noise, so instead, she nodded. Miguel didn’t look convinced.

“You look a little… overwhelmed. Is it your first time here?”

She pushed down her offense at the insinuation that she could not control her emotions. “Yes, this is my first time. I’m not used to all,” she gestured widely at the space, “all this.”

He nodded and took a long drink from the bottle. “That’s to be expected. How long have you been clean?”

Her brows furrowed. How long had she been clean? Did he mean since her last bath? What an inappropriate question to ask her. He must have noticed her confusion, for he laughed and moved to stand a little closer to avoid having to shout.

“I meant, how long has it been since you stopped taking the suppressants?”

Her eyes widened with shock. Did everyone here not take their government-mandated suppressants? That explained the blatant disregard for order.

“A few days,” she lied.

“That’s to be expected then.” His gaze roamed over her then, and she feared for a moment that something was wrong with her disguise. Her heart rate threatened to pick up. She wished she had thought to bring emergency suppressants with her.

“Would you like to dance?”

“What?” Between the look on his face and the question, she wasn’t sure which confused her more. He was smiling, but it was more than the expected pleasantness. There was more, dare she say it, emotion.

“I asked if you’d like to dance. With me.” He took another drink from the bottle, emptying it. A flush colored his cheeks.

“I don’t know how to,” she admitted. Dancing wasn’t something people usually did. There was no reason to, as the act had no practical use other than exercise. She knew what dancing was but had no firsthand experience.

Miguel’s smile widened, showing white teeth. Before she knew it, he had placed the empty bottle on the counter, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the writhing mass of bodies. She wanted to protest but was pulled in before she could react.

The crowd seemed to part for him, people sending smiles and nods his way, patting him on the shoulder, or waving. He led her through the mob and up the stairs to the massive platform in the center of the warehouse. The music seemed louder here, the vibrations of the bass deeper. A small space opened up around them, and he released her hand.

She watched in confusion as he started moving. Everyone around her moved as well, though no one seemed to be in sync, each moving in their own flailing way. Was this dancing? It wasn’t at all what she had thought it was.

Her attention was pulled back to Miguel as he laughed. “You weren’t kidding! You really don’t know how to dance!”

Her face burned. Was he making fun of her? She had told him she didn’t know how, so what right did he have to be surprised? Before she could voice her frustration, Miguel moved so close that they were practically chest-to-chest. He placed his hands on her waist and gently pushed her side to side. Danika stood ramrod still, unsure of what was happening or how to react appropriately.

“Just relax! Follow me, and I’ll show you.”

She took a deep breath. So far, she had done an excellent job finding the target, though truthfully, he found her. Now, she needed to get him to talk. And if ‘dancing’ is how she accomplished that, she would dance. Slowly, she relaxed her limbs and allowed the gentle pressure of Miguel’s hands to guide her hips from side to side.

“Good! You’re getting it! Now, lift your arms. No, not like that! You look like a zombie. Bend your elbows and let your arms sway with the beat. There you go. Now,” he released her hips and stepped back. “Now you’re dancing.”

She felt utterly ridiculous, even more so that he had stopped guiding her. The way her hips and arms moved reminded her of the running chimpanzees she’d seen in a documentary. She was about to stop when Miguel started dancing. She found it was easier if she matched his movements.

“You never told me your name,” He shouted.

“Danika.” She immediately regretted giving him her real name. She should have made something up.

“Beautiful,” he said as he took a step closer. “I’m Miguel.” Heat rose to her cheeks, and she stepped back, hoping that it looked like a part of her dance and less like the retreat it was.

“So why all this?” She waved one hand out, again indicating the entire warehouse.

He shrugged. “Why not?”

“Because it’s against the law,” she deadpanned.

“The law?” He scoffed. “What is so illegal about feeling?”

“How about it leading to war and crime?”

Miguel’s smile dropped. “Not all emotion is dangerous, Danika.” He closed the space between them and grabbed her hand. She kept her body pliant and followed his lead as he twirled her in a circle. “We can feel more than anger and hate. What about joy? Happiness?” He spun her again so that her back rested against his chest, one of his hands moving down to rest on her waist. “Excitement?”

A chill ran down her spine at the same time as her face heated. She spun, facing him. He tugged her into twirls, moving her body with the guidance of a gentle hand. All the while smiling. She was caught off guard as he suddenly stopped. Once again, her back was flush against his chest.

“Want to see something cool?” He didn’t wait for her answer, instead pulling a phone from his pocket. He tapped on the screen and a moment later Danika felt something wet drip onto her hair. Looking up, she watched in awe as the distant ceiling slowly moved, parting down the middle to open to the sky. Rain fell upon the cheering crowd, the music rising to match the pounding of water on bodies and the dance floor. Rather than run for cover, the people around her were invigorated. Most who had crowded around the bars and tables moved to join the throng of people dancing in the rain.

Danika watched, enraptured as even the elements could not dampen these people’s emotions. The strobing and swaying lights' color refracted off the water, casting everything in a hazy rainbow as if looking through a tinted lens. How could something so terrible be so beautiful?

Miguel spun her to continue their dance. His smile was radiant and infectious as she felt a smile of her own force its way past her barriers. Between the beat of the music, the thrum of the rain, and the warmth of dancing alongside Miguel, Danika lost herself.

After a time, the music slowed just as she felt she could no longer go on. She had given up keeping her joy at bay, at least for now. Her cheeks were sore from smiling, and her throat felt raw from shouting and laughing.

“So,” Miguel began, leaning down so that he didn’t have to shout as he moved them both slowly to the beat. “What do you think? Still want to shut us down?”

Danika froze, all semblance of joy and warmth leaving her. Suddenly, the gently falling rain felt like pinpricks of ice. She looked up at Miguel, speechless. He smiled, though this time, the joy was replaced with sadness and guilt.

“The Harmony Division isn’t the only organization with spies, Danika. I knew who you were the moment you stepped through the door.”

“Then why…” She trailed off, knowing what she wanted to ask but unable to formulate the words. Miguel pulled her from the center of the platform to stand at one of its edges. She faced the crowd below as he stood behind her. His arms caged her in, resting on the railing on either side.

“Look at them. Do you see how happy they all are?” Danika looked out over the mass of people. Couples swayed, lost within each other. Some danced alone, lost to the atmosphere as she had been earlier. Others moved in small groups. Everyone was laughing. Smiling. Living.

“Why do we have to deny ourselves something that can bring so much joy? Humans were born with emotions, Danika. It’s not right to take away the opportunity for someone to find happiness in life just because there are bad people out in the world.”

“Why are you called The Flood?” She asked. She hadn’t meant to voice the question, but her emotions were too raw to control.

“Because this suppression mandate is just a dam holding back the natural order of things. And once that dam breaks, the ensuing flood will be catastrophic. People have forgotten how to live. How to feel. I will do my best to stop that flood from destroying as many people as possible.”

He stepped away from her, taking his warmth with him. She turned to face him.

“So, what will you do, Danika? Will you try to keep the dam from breaking? Or will you prepare for the flood?”

She didn’t have an answer. Not able to stand the intensity of his gaze any longer, she lifted her face to the rain, allowing the cool water to wash over her. When she looked back, Miguel was gone.

“How can I do anything but prepare for the flood when I know it’s coming?” She asked, knowing full well the music and rain would drown out her words to anyone but herself.