Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Beginning
Genesis, Chapter 1, Verses 1 and 16. 1In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 16God made two great lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars.
Ben awoke to the sun creeping across his face. His studio flat dimly lit by the sliver of sunlight slipping through a crack in his curtains. He groaned slightly and peered at his alarm clock positioned precisely on his bed-side table. 06:30 it read, 15 minutes before his alarm was due to go off. Before the inception of Gilead, he would never have imagined waking up so early. He was a law unto himself. His own boss, free to set his work hours to whatever he pleased. Not anymore though. He stretched out, spreading his limbs to occupy his bed. The other side of his mattress was cold and empty, also something old Ben would have a hard time imagining. Thanks to Grindr, and Tinder, and gay bars he could wake up to a warm male body next to him as frequently as he wanted. Not anymore though. He was fortunate to have Lexi, the perfect excuse to show officials at the processing centre: “no officer, I cannot possibly be gay, I have a daughter” he said innocently, as if butter wouldn’t melt. Not many gay men with his track record were as lucky. Most were executed for gender treachery, but thanks to Lexi, no one dug too deeply into his past. Too many others to process, too many to assign to their new roles in Gilead.
Ben’s alarm cut through the silence permeating the room. He slammed his hand against the top lazily, silencing it and got out of bed. His eyes surveyed the room. It was sparsely decorated, containing mostly government-provided materials and the odd knick-knack he had accumulated in the couple of years he had been living there. Nothing too individual, nothing that would cause offence or intrigue. Nothing to incriminate him to the eyes or even the snooping housewife, Martha or handmaid who occasionally made their way into his room for his services. On the surface at least, he had become the perfect, bland, law abiding citizen. Quite the opposite of who he used to be. He wondered what his previous self would think of him if they were to meet. Would old Ben consider him weak and vulnerable? The ever-present threat of death and the male re-education centre have exorcised most of his former criminal ways from him. Even deep down, he was starting to let go of that life, to accept the new world order.
“Well, well, well, Ben Michell” the guardian said, slapping his truncheon to the open palm of his hand to emphasise his words. “Your criminal record makes for quite interesting reading, are you beyond hope? Beyond redemption? Or do you wish to confess your sins and repent?” The guardian leered at him.
Ben weighed up his options, he knew if he repented, they would take him seriously and assign him somewhere, he would have to betray his principals, but he would be alive, able to look for Lexi, he couldn’t do that if he chose the alternative which was immediate execution. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned” Ben began.
Ben walked from his bed to his kitchenette, flicked on the kettle and poured himself some cereal. Coffee was still permitted and was one of his last-remaining vices. The last thing keeping him sane. He finished his breakfast, washed the dishes and left them on the side to dry. After a quick shower and a shave, he was ready to start the day. His modest studio flat was over the garage that attached to the house of the Commander to whom he was assigned as handyman and driver.
“It says here you used to run a car lot selling cars and you have also worked as a mechanic” the attendant at the processing centre was reading some file that seemed to map out Ben’s entire life, unbeknownst to him how they got such thorough information.
“Yeah” Ben said nonchalantly. He had not yet learnt the respect required to function in Gilead. He would learn that very soon though.
“Good. You will be assigned to a Commander to be their driver, do you understand?”
“Yeah” Ben repeated, he got up, firmly shoved the chair back under the desk and was then violently beaten by the guardians for not addressing the attendant with respect. The attendant looked on, tutting.
He walked down the stairs towards the driveway slowly, looking out through the tall fence that surrounded the property, observing the guardians. Some were just standing there, protecting individual houses, some were patrolling, some were walking with handmaids on the way to the shops. He wondered how they didn’t all just keel over, dying from boredom, dying from the sheer monotony of their lives. At least he got to go out driving, see people, do things, maintain the car. He would prefer that to just standing there like a pillar box all day every day. There are rumours that they don’t even sleep. He reached the bottom of the stairs and almost bumped into the Martha who was running towards him.
“The commander says to get the car ready, you leave in 10 minutes” she said clearly but quietly, looking down, not meeting his eyes, shrinking into herself, as she will have been told is correct behaviour for a woman of her standing.
“Thank you, Martha” Ben replied, gritting his teeth, resisting the urge to just scream at her ‘Look at me! Look. At. Me. You are a human being, equal to me in every way. I should be able to use your name, not your title, you are not just a servant’. But he didn’t, he never does. You never know who is listening, who is watching. You don’t know where the eyes are, who is a true believer of the Gilead agenda and who just pretends to be.
Ben prepped the car and sat in it, waiting patiently for the Commander to arrive. His mind drifting, eyes just staring into space, he clicked the radio on by force of habit, but quickly turned it off when he realised that all that was playing was Gilead propaganda. Messages about how well the fight at the front lines was going, despite the fact they didn’t seem to have made any solid progress anywhere for months. His eyes flicked up from the dash and he just sat watching the guardians again, trying desperately not to observe them sexually. It was so easy, to trace the outline of their figures with his eyes, the way the tight fabric of their uniforms hugged their biceps and framed their pectoral muscles, their trousers, tight at the waist and hugging around their hips and below. He bit his lip remembering what it was like to touch a man. To be touched by a man. How great it felt having rough, dirty, loud gay sex. Sweaty, limbs flailing.
The sound of the car door opening and the Commander climbing into the car centred Ben’s mind immediately. His eyes darting around in panic. Had someone noticed his staring? Was he in trouble? He realised that his mind had wondered too far. His thoughts too far from Gilead’s ideals. He should have prevented that from happening before it had got that far.
“Blessed be, Ben” the Commander said, smiling at him warmly, shuffling in his seat as he arranged some papers around him and put on his seatbelt.
“Blessed day, Commander, where to today?” Ben sighed in relief, realising he had not been caught staring at the guardians, this time. He hoped they would get to go somewhere exciting. Ben had got quite lucky to be assigned to Commander John Grayson, he was a relatively young, relatively laid-back Commander who treated Ben well. He was aware of Ben’s criminal history but did not hold it over him, in fact, he encouraged Ben to make a few black-market contacts, just in case. Ben was not entirely sure what his Commander did, you don’t ask those sorts of questions in Gilead. From bits of conversations he had overheard and sections of paperwork he had read corners of, he thinks Commander Grayson is something to do with the war effort, troop deployment perhaps. He knows he is important from the size of his house, the size of his office and the number of dinner parties they host (none of which he is ever invited to, he just has to take the odd, inappropriately drunk guest home).
“Oh, nowhere interesting today I’m afraid, just my office”, the Commander spoke slowly, distracted by his paperwork, making the odd note here and there, crossing out sections and reading others intently. Ben acknowledged the request with a quick “Yes Commander” started the car and opened the gate with a fob. The gate was only as old as Gilead so slid open without hesitation, silently, and closed just after the car passed through it. The first half of the drive to the office was mostly uneventful. Ben was just drove, idly watching the trees pass by, barely keeping an eye on the road. There isn’t much traffic on the roads now as most people don’t even have cars, and those that do often need a good reason to use them (part of Gilead’s green initiative). Although there were still traffic lights at which he needed to stop, to allow people to cross.
Ben was preparing to stop the car, as he saw the light at the crossroads in front of him turn red. Old Ben would have chanced it, so what if he ran a red light, who would know, more importantly, who would care. But, especially with his Commander in the back, his driving had to be flawless.
He was relaxed, just watching the group of handmaids and guardians pass in front of him. So relaxed in fact, that he didn’t notice the car to his right speeding towards him. In fact, he didn’t notice that car until it was too late, and their car was on its side, after the collision had caused it to roll over the pavement and into the garden of the house on the other side, killing two handmaids and a guardian in the process. Ben was knocked unconscious, as was the Commander in the back.
The driver of the car that hit them got out, collected papers from the back of the Commander’s car, looked at the Commander, assumed he was dead from his injuries but stabbed him in the side for good measure, returned to their car and sped off. It all happened too quickly for the guardians to react, many of them were still stood there in shock, none of them made any attempt to apprehend the perpetrator. Despite what the propaganda will have you think, the guardians aren’t a highly trained, highly proficient police force. They are the rejects that were not smart or important enough to be Commanders, too unskilled to be drivers or other specialised workers, and too inept to be angles. They were the incompetent. Some were good, but most were not.
Eventually an ambulance was called to the scene and Ben and the Commander were hauled from the wreckage and rushed to hospital.