The life, conversion and death of Mr. Dias

[Hugoland]

9:15 - March the 18st, 2010, Santa Ana, near Hugopolis, Hugoland

Near the quiet village of Santa Ana, not far from Hugopolis, the largest city of the Kingdom, Mr. Sousa, the owner of the local gas station, saw a familiar face aproaching. He left the heat of the counter in the shop to receive himself the customer that he had seen some times before, albeit he was not from the region. Mr. Sousa didn't know his name, but he knew he gave considerable tips.

The car stopped. There were actually two men. The second, totally unknown to Mr. Sousa, immediately left the car to wander around while the other coldly greeted Mr. Sousa.

"Good morning sir, how do you do? Its a pleasure to see you again. I remember you've been here sometimes in the past months, although I do not know your name, Sir. My name is Sousa, and yours?"

The other, who was carelessly looking towards the shop, turned his eyes to Mr. Sousa. "Mr. Dias. Tell me, Mr. Sousa, how is your business? Do you have many clients?"

Happy to engage some conversation, and happy to fill the fuel deposit meanwhile, Mr. Sousa quickly directed the talk to his health, and how he expected his second son to replace him in the management of the gas station.

After some minutes, Mr. Dias handed five silver coins and a business card to Mr. Sousa saying "I have quite enjoyed our little talk. I have many friends in the area, so I come here frequently, as you have noticed. I'm a businessman myself, and I'm always ready to talk with other like-minded people or to advise the young. If you need any advice regarding the future of your business, or if any of your sons needs any advice, I'd be honnoured to help."

The second man was still wandering around. Not only he wandered, but his eyes also wandered along the landscape, not resting on any particular point, despite the natural beauty of the small green hills, and the pitoresque wind mills. His wandering was only terminated by being called by Mr. Dias. Without a look to Mr. Sousa, he quickly entered the car.

Mr. Sousa returned to his counter, looking at the card. The card had not any adress, just a telephone number and the inscription "Nuno Dias, Taylor. Associate of the Taylor's Guild of Monforte". "So, he's not from here, indeed! I'll keep this. The fellow is relatively young, but he seems quite sure of himself, he must be smart. Perhaps a good example, a good connection, to my son, who should indeed think more about helping his father and take over the business".

 

[Hugoland]

In the car, Mr. Dias kept silent for some minutes. His companion was still carelessly looking around.

"Are you enjoying the country views, Rocha?"

Mr. Rocha said he didn't care too much about the country and took his mobile phone, going around the menus without any real purpose.

"We're arriving." - said Mr. Dias as they left the municipal road to enter into a private one, heading to a large property in the top of a nearby hill. They have passed through a gate and entered a large avenue, with a road made of stone, with cedars on both sides.

The property was conceived in the typical XVIII century style, but was full of gadgets of the XXI century. The gate opened automatically, as the entrance was monitored by cameras.

As they approached the main building - a small palace, we would say - a gentleman appeared in sight. Mr. Dias stopped the car not far from the main door and rushed to meet the gentleman.

"José! How are you? Very nice to see you. Now, let me introduce you a gentleman from Monforte, a good friend of mine ... Mr. José Espigão, here is my good friend Mr. Rocha ... Mr. Rocha, please meet Mr. Espigão, he will be our kind host for the next four days".

A young servant came to park their car. Mr. Dias, seeming already used to the procedures, immediately, almost naturally, handed the young boy the key and followed Mr. Espigão, urging Mr. Rocha to preceed him, to the inside of the small palace.

"All you see, Mr. Rocha" - said the host while walking through spacious halls - "is the result of my hard work, of my talent. Its true my family had an history, but it was my commercial vision, my talent to do business, that allowed me to buy this property and to... adapt it to the needs of the organization. But pray - will you take a whiskey Dias? And you, Mr. Rocha ... - but pray, how long have you been familiar with the organization?"

"I have been doing business with Mr. Dias for five years already. Last... August, was it? Yes, August, Mr. Dias introduced me to the... organization in Monforte."

"And" added Mr. Dias "Mr. Rocha is honoured to be with us for our meeting, though he hates leaving his city".

"What fun can be found at the country?" - replied Mr. Rocha - "Well, certainly we are not far from Hugopolis, so for some it must be excellent to live here, for example."

Mr. Espigão was somewhat offended, and Mr. Rocha became an idiot yuppie in his regard. Still, he had to be diplomatic. "After all", he thought, "our organization is mainly composed of useful idiots, and it must be so."

 

[Hugoland]

12:00 - March the 18st, 2010, A Palace near Santa Ana, near Hugopolis, Hugoland


A small crowd of almost fifty men was gathered in a division of the Palace, in which the seats were disposed on a circle, with a table and a small pulpit on the center. The participants were greated by the so-called Great Master,who after a short speech on tolerance invited all to lunch.

So started the quarterly meeting of the "Humanistic Lodge of Hugoland", an organization funded basically by foreign powers and local criminals. Its goal was the revolution. But what is the revolution?

If, stripping off the mask of the revolution you ask, "Who are you?", she will say, "I am not who you think I am. Many speak of me and yet few know me. I am not the Carbonari who conspire in secret, nor the uprising which howls in the streets, nor the change from monarchy to republic, nor the substitution of one dynasty for another, nor the sudden subversion of public order. I am not the cries of the Jacobins (...) nor the fighters on the barricades, nor plunder, nor arson, nor land laws, nor the guillotine, nor the noyades (...) These people are my sons, but I am not they. These men and these deeds are transitory facts and yet I am a permament state. I am the hatred of all religious and social order which man himself has not created, and in which he is not King and God togather. I am the proclamation of the rights of man against the rights of God. I am philosophy of rebellion, the politics of rebellion, the religion of rebellion. I am armed negation. I am the foundation of the social and religious state upon the will of man in place of the will of God. In a word, I am anarchy, because I am God dethroned and replaced by man. This is why they call me Revolution, that is confusion, because I raise up high that which, according to eternal law, should remain low, and I thrust down low that which should be on high....*

So, they headed for lunch. The organization is revolutionary, but as we have seen, that does not mean an absence of any order, but rather the establishment of an arbitrary, man-made order. So, the places at the table were, of course, distributed according to the rigid hierarchy of the sect. All the present were men, and were either nobles or rich businessmen.

It was the first national meeting for Mr. Rocha, and he was proud of it. Mr. Dias, his recruiter, had told him this was the top meeting of the group, where all the important issues would be adressed. In short, it was the meeting of the elite, and in the elite Mr. Rocha has always dreamed to be.

Born in a middle class family, he was always rather proud. Not particularly intelligent, he was able to study and to work much, which had earned him a place in the local Tax Bureau. Ambitious, he had foreseen many good opportunities behind the invitation of Mr. Dias, an influent man in the region, to what he had told him to be "a club of respectful gentlemen".

And so, after proving his loyalty by some favours towards some of the respectful gentlemen, Mr. Dias thought it could be time to go one step further, and invited Mr. Rocha to the inner circle of the local lodge, where some philosophical questions were softly adressed - and the economical favours of an higher scale. Although Mr. Rocha had never had any special interest for philosophy, these other benefits weighted on his judgement, and thus, following the advice of the respecteful gentlemen, who advised him to stop going to confession or to confess only to some liberal priests, friends of the organization, Mr. Rocha decided to abandon that sacrament at once, which was rather convenient to prevent a serious examination of his conscience.

But then, an invitation appeared - he was to be in the national meeting, with all the important people. He could barely believe his luck, already considering the benefits that could arrive from behind in a group of national influence. Meanwhile, Mr. Rocha handed him some books with some strange words like ecumenism and dialectic truth, to prepare him for the meeting.

*OOC: A poem by Msgr. Jean-Joseph Gaume (1802-1879), adapted.

 

[Hugoland]

After the ringing of some bells, the lunch started. It was a long one, as two plates were served and the conversation was liveful. There was quality wine in abundance, but the desserts and the coffee that immediately followed the meal helped to remedy any abuse.

The dining room had a particularity, as many sections of the walls were covered with mirrors. One could also see some impressionist paintings. The style in general was that of the 19th century.

During the conversation there were some critics to the government - never to the King - and to the ministers. When one critized the King, it was only because he was too influenced by the clergy, by the Archbishop (of New Mercoburg, the arch-enemy of the lodge), by his ministers, by the censors, by his wife, by the military, by the guilds, etc.

This was, of course, intencional, strategic, as we will see later in our story.

After all this, the schedules for the four days were read, copies were distributed to all, and were also commented by a man of very good appearance and grave looks, already on his sixties. The next activity would be a conference at 18:00, and until then one could rest, walk around in the gardens, play snooker, chess, read a book on the library, or do any other activity.

Mr. Rocha went to his room, and was happy to find there his belongings, and also because the room was very tolerable. It was actually a very confortable suite, but the style, as one could guess, did not match the preferences of the sophisticated Mr. Rocha.

Meanwhile, Mr. Dias would, along with six other gentlemen, including their host and the Great Master, head for the door of the old library, which was always locked. After opening it, the seven men entered. Mr. Espigão lead the way to open a secret passage to a modern meeting room.

Everyone took their place and after promissing total silence with third persons regarding what was said there and regarding the existence of the meeting itself, the Grand Master made a twenty minutes speach on the state of the organization, the most promissing members, some proffitable businesses and connections. Afterwards, the other six members made each a five minutes intervention, poiting to some particular problem or issue that should be discussed.

After this, a list of issues to be discussed on this restricted circle was made. Afterwards, the discussion was about which issues to focus on the general meetings and about who would be the "angel" of each participant, that is, the appointing to each of the participants absent of the secret meeting of an "angel", that is, of one of the seven members present, who would evaluate the beliefs and motivation of the participants and report everything afterwards.

Mr. Dias was appointed to be the "angel" of a middle-age New Mercoburg bureaucrat, Mr. Oliveira was his name; and also of a fifty year old businessman, Mr. Reis; an army officer, Lt. Alves; a prosper farmer, Mr. Figueira; another bureaucrat, Mr. Leão, and, last but not least, a liberal priest, Rev. Carvalho.

Mr. Rocha's "angel" would be the Grand Master himself. It could not be Mr. Dias, as he was who invited Mr. Rocha to the lodge.

At 17:30, the meeting ended. They left, one by one, the room and the old library, and each following a different path.

Mr. Dias would find Mr. Rocha at the billiard room. "So, Mr. Dias, where have you been? You've lost a lot of fun!". "Ah, I would not be in the mood to play, Mr. Rocha. I'm rather melancholic today, I've spent the whole afternoon reading".