Sovereign Social Protocol: Life and Death in the Council

By Bernadette Allen

Do You Believe That The Government Has Your Best Interests in Mind? This Dystopian Thriller Will Make You Think Twice!

In 2084, Aaron Trudeau is about to graduate college and enter the real world. As he learns that most everyone is blinded by the government's accomplishments, Aaron seems to have more and more doubts. He signs up to join the SSP, Sovereign Social Protocol, better known as "The Council," more out of defiance than a civic duty. As he treads deeper into the SSP, his covert plan derails as he discovers there are more horrific practices than even the SSP could imagine.

If you've been looking for an exciting new dystopian thriller, this is it! Sovereign Social Protocol will leave you so enthralled that you won't be able to put it down once you start.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bernadette Allen
• Release date: Feb 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310134302

Bernadette Allen

Bernadette Allen is from the Greater Washington D.C. area and currently lives in Atlanta. She is the mother of 3 beautiful children, all of whom are homeschooled. She has always been fascinated with the way people react and respond to situations and ideas. Her passion for writing comes form her studies in Sociology and Psychology.

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Sovereign Social Protocol:

Life and Death in the Council

Bernadette Allen

Copyright © 2016 by Bernadette Allen

www.bernadetteallen.com

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 978-1522879954

Published in the United States of America

Sociaverse Publishing

1032 Old Peachtree Rd NW

Ste 432

Lawrenceville, GA 30043

www.sociaversepublishing.com

To Lee, Nico, Julie, and Samantha, for all the people that have said it is impossible, I say, Never give up.

Table of Contents

Introduction: A Family Affair

Chapter 1: Just Another Rainy Day

Chapter 2: Somewhere Out There

Chapter 3: The End of Work

Chapter 4: Patrician Knows Best

Chapter 5: Just Waking Up

Chapter 6: The Need for Answers

Chapter 7: Strangely Dim

Chapter 8: Back to Terms

Chapter 9: The Synthetic Heroine and the Street Preacher

Chapter 10: The Bail Out

Chapter 11: The Algorithm

Chapter 12: The Departure

Chapter 13: The Refresh Button

Chapter 14: The Eye of the Storm

Chapter 15: The First Assignment

Chapter 16: A Bit of Advice

Chapter 17: Zombie Apocalypse Now?

Chapter 18: The End of the Road

About the Author

Introduction: A Family Affair

The world in which I grew up was different from my father’s, and the world in which he grew up was not the same as his father before him. For many years, the whole breakdown of society and our perception of reality would be severely challenged. It was argued for a long time that it was the extreme, individualistic beliefs and actions of humanity that had led the planet in so many precarious predicaments in the past. To some, the answer seemed obvious: reign in this dangerous thought. Get rid of extreme forms of expression, whether it is religion or merely undesirable philosophy, stamp out this various belief system, and the world can breathe a collective sigh of relief.

The pen is, after all, mightier than the sword. Just wipe out that extreme faction of thought, round up Socrates,give him his hemlock, do whatever it takes to snuff out his views, and the future is secure. The founders of the New Revolution didn’t want to seem like repressive ogres, however. So while they selectively oppressed what they viewed as serious expression, they encouraged and promoted lascivious decadence to all new unheard of heights. Legalizing all manner of narcotics and vice, the SSP sought, literally, to bring the opiate to the masses, to distract them just a little while longer while the Sovereign Social Protocol decided what was right for them. Welcome to the Global Family.

Chapter 1: Just Another Rainy Day

Hey, Aaron! Could you get that? Grandpa shouted as the tennis ball went flying down the court.

Sure, Gramps! I called out, as I sent myself hurdling to catch the wayward ball down the court. As much as I tried to get the ball, though, like a hunted animal, it seemed to evade my pursuit. It scurried and bounced its way all over the court. But finally, like one of the great cats of the Savannah, I pounced, and raising the ball victoriously in the air, I declared, Got it!

But as I stood there holding the ball up in my triumph, droplets of rain started to pelt me softly in the face. Grandma, jumping up from the sidelines, yelled at my grandfather, Hey Jackson! Just look at these skies! It’s about to start pouring down rain! Amateur meteorology at its finest.

Grandpa swung his racket as if in defiance of the rain. Darn it…right when we had a good game too. He looked in my direction and called out, Alright, son! I guess that’s about it! The skies are getting gloomy! Let’s head on out!

My grandfather, Jackson, seemed out of place in our modern world. He complains frequently and longs for days gone by. Even his fashion sense suggests as much. His tennis shoes were still made of leather, and he still ties the shoelaces manually. He refuses to wear the EnergySoles I bought him for his birthday, which completely blows my mind because it replaces his tennis shoes, walking shoes, dress shoes, and rain boots in a single piece of footwear.

Still, he’s in great shape for a man of advanced age, especially since he’s pristine, or unmodified. His movements are in line with his athletic background, as is his physique. He still stood up straight without a hint of curve in his upper back.

The whole car ride home, as the rain poured over the windows, I could hear Grandpa complaining about the weather.

I just don’t understand it, he said. The weather forecast on the news this morning said it would be sunny today. Where did all this rain come from?

Knowing the answer, I informed him, Grandpa you’ve got to keep up with your alerts! He looked back at me and said dryly, You mean the little tidbits of info that plastic lens over your eye keeps feeding you?

I nodded my head emphatically while browsing through the apps in my eyepiece. I then gave the command to my cybernetic eye lens, Iris…what are the weather alerts for Saturday, April 5th, 2084?

The computer-simulated voice droned out from the lens, Weather alert for April 5th at 2:45 P.M., weather modification will take place in the form of rain.

Grandpa laughed. "Oh! So they are playing around with the weather again, huh?"

I shut off my eyepiece, letting it retract back into my skull and added, Yeah, I guess they thought modification was necessary due to all the droughts and wildfires we had last year.

My grandfather sighed. Oh, I see, State planning at its finest. Looking out at the rain, he continued, But I just checked the weather forecast this morning, and there wasn’t any mention of any modification taking place.

It seems this was a last minute decision from the weather modifications bureau, I replied. I reached out and put my hand on Grandpa’s shoulder. That’s why you’ve got to keep up with your alerts, old dude! Things change quickly!

He laughed, Yeah, tell me about it! He elbowed Grandma, who sat next to him. Next thing you know, they are going to modify your grandma and me!

My grandmother, who is always looking for a good comedy routine, turned to look back at me and mischievously motioned to my grandfather. Well, perhaps they could modify him into a 'less grumpy' old man?

Grandpa exclaimed with a sly grin, Yeah, well, if they ever do take me in for a brain adjustment, they’d better make sure to delete my penchant for pretty young ladies! To make things even more incredibly awkward, he playfully reached over and slapped Grandma’s leg with a bellowing belly laugh that usually surfaces when he impresses himself with his own jokes.

My grandfather was six years older than she, and even though his 71 to her 65 didn’t seem like a big deal to anyone else, he was always joking about their slight disparity in age. To him, she was his beautiful young lady.

Grandma enjoyed the attention, but always acted as if she hated it, and after this latest outburst, to make me feel even more like a three-year-old child, she exclaimed, Jackson, for Pete’s sake! Our grandson is in the car!

I responded with extreme sarcasm, Oh, no! Don’t mind me! This is exactly how I wanted to spend spring break, taking a back seat to elderly romance! I was supposed to be in Cancun, Mexico with the rest of my friends from the academy. That fell through when we realized there wasn’t enough room in the van for everyone, so being the kind and considerate person I am, I stupidly gave my seat away to my sometimes girlfriend, Hannah Wilson.

They say that no good deed goes unpunished, so I thought to myself, because of my kind-hearted stupidity, elderly graphic displays of affection must be my punishment! Grandpa knew full well my predicament and began to feel sorry for me. Attempting to console me, he offered, I’m sorry your spring break turned out to be such a bust, son. Hey, at least we can watch the game when we get back. I knew the old man meant well, but it was hard to take him seriously when he was still wiping away tears from his latest comedic triumph.

I hadn’t seen a good football team in a while, and Grandpa had the Super Bowl from last February that I never got the chance to see stored in the TV-Wall just waiting for me. I’ve been so out of the loop that I never even found out what happened. And so, actually brightening up a bit at the prospect, I commented, Oh, yeah, I almost forgot! The New York Giants and the Baltimore Ravens! I added with a chuckle, Like we don’t know who’s gonna win that matchup!

He made a goofy face at me.Or do you? Who knows? Maybe Joey Malone’s bum knee acted up again? Or maybe Robert Griffin V finally learned how to read a defense! The future is just full of possibilities, son! Or is that the past? I guess you’ll just have to watch to find out!

I started to laugh at my grandfather’s patently absurd goofball routine, but my laughter was cut short by the Nav-Com system in the car’s computer warning us, Emergency stop!

A split second later, we could hear the anti-lock brakes whirring in the rain, and with only a slight skid, the car came to a complete stop. Grandpa yelled, Damn it!

My grandmother shouted, Jackson, watch your language! She added for good measure, Don’t forget! You used to be a pastor!

Grandma wasn’t always the most tactful person. Her blunt remark, like picking an old wound, caused my grandfather to grimace in remembrance of his past life before the Sovereign Social Protocol banned what they termed, Extreme Individualistic Expression (EIE), which included outward expression of religious activities. His church had long been on the decline even before the EIE law went mainstream, anyway, but it still took him a long time to get over it.

My spring break visit, four years after the EIE ban, was the first time I had seen the old man in a good mood since it had happened. And even though I could still see the pain in his eyes at the mention of his former life, I could tell that he was finally coming to terms with it. Just a year ago, he probably would have launched into a lengthy diatribe just from broaching the topic. But now, he merely sighed and brushed it all off with good humor, telling her, "Sorry Ava…but ever since