The chains rattled and clanged against each other as Randall J. Oppenheimer was being escorted down the street by members of the secret police. As if the hand and feet cuffs weren’t humiliating enough, people came out onto the streets to boo and throw rotten food at him. Despite being hit by some moldy tomatoes he remained surprisingly unfazed; after a humiliating five minutes of walking through the streets, he arrived at the government courthouse for his trial.

When he entered, the guards closed the door behind him, partly silencing the noise generated by the people on the street. Randall was then escorted to the courtroom where people sat on long benches on both sides and bore angered expressions at him. At the end of the room, Randall took a seat before an incredibly tall podium; suddenly, the lights went out and a single spotlight shone on Randall sitting in his chair in front of the podium.

When Randall looked up, he saw the commissar sitting at the podium and talking into a microphone:

“Randall J. Oppenheimer, you stand before the jury on this day due to your violation of Directive 10-289. How do you plead?”

Realizing that the kangaroo court the commissar was heading would find him guilty either way, Randall decided to get it over with and simply say “guilty” in the hopes of speeding the trial along.

However, at the bottom of his heart, Randall knew that he was fully innocent. In his opinion, Directive 10-289 was one of the worst edicts to be enacted. The Directive was created to halt knowledge, reason, logic, creativity and other things that would go against the government. Randall himself was regarded as an all-around smart and intelligent person who always wanted to increase his capacity for knowledge. But ever since the “backward revolution” as he called it, which put the commissar in power, he’s been an enemy of the government for a long time.

From the first day the directive was enacted, Randall protested it by refusing to comply with any of its laws or amendments that he saw unjust. The secret police found out about his refusal to comply and placed him under arrest until the day of his trial. Now, the commissar stands before Randall to deliver the final verdict and Randall knows full well that it will be a guilty verdict.

“Mr. Oppenheimer, you realize that this is a serious offense you have committed, don’t you?” The commissar asked.

“Not as serious as what your directive and other laws have done to our society,” Randall replied.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means. This stupid directive along with others proves only that the government you’re heading is weak and absolutely pathetic.”

A gasp came from both sides as everyone tried to absorb what Randall had just said. The commissar simply raised his eyebrow in astonishment, waiting what Randall had to say next.

“Haven’t you learned anything from history? Clearly, you haven’t, if you did, then you would have learned that there have been many different versions of governments like this one, and all of them have been doomed from the start” said Randall in an attempt to defend himself.

“Of course, Mr. Oppenheimer, we have learned much from the past. You see, the governments built by Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Mao Tse-Tung and many others had the right approach; the problem is that they did not push their agendas far enough. The goals were clear in their minds, but their means did not foster those goals to become a reality, which is why we will reach stability through any means possible to ensure that the people are happy and confident in their leaders.” The commissar stated triumphantly.

“Censoring free speech and creating a feared autocracy is no way a government should be; outlawing knowledge is the ultimate crime against humanity.”

“Well Mr. Oppenheimer, I will repeat to you that knowledge is outlawed under Directive-“

“You cannot outlaw man’s greatest gift with a piece of legislation” Randall shouted to the commissar.

Randall was shaking and breathing heavily when he shouted this, but nobody else seemed affected by it, and nobody said anything more. The commissar wrote something on a piece of paper, and when he was done he stood up to announce his final verdict.

“Randall Joshua Oppenheimer, you are hereby found guilty in direct violation of Directive 10-289 and for disrespecting high authority in the courtroom. For these crimes, I sentence you to death.” The commissar said emphasizing death.

“Death by what?” Randall asked.

“Death by your own means within the next 48 hours,” The commissar said.

Randall stood motionless in front of the podium figuring out how he should leave the world.

“Your honor, I would like to request my means to an assassin,” Randall said defiantly.

“Very well then, you may share your means with one of the nearby guards,” the commissar said and signaled one of the guards to escort Randall into another room for his means of assassination.

The courtroom was filled with the mumbles of people while Randall was in the room with the guard. Five minutes later, Randall and the guard came back out and the commissar talked privately with the guard regarding Randall’s death.

“Mr. Oppenheimer wishes not to discuss his means of death openly, but he has requested me to carry it out for him,” The guard said.

“Does it fit the requirements?” The commissar asked.

“Yes sir, his death will occur tomorrow at midnight.”
“Wonderful, we cannot risk his knowledge spreading to the people and hopelessly corrupting them.”

“Although, he does have one final request, sir.”

“What’s that?”

“He wishes to see you in his house, the chosen location for his death, one final time.”
The commissar thought about this request, weighing it with other alternatives. Until, he made a decision.

“Very well then, I shall grant this to him. Perhaps we can install cameras inside to remind the people what we do to people like him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Cancel my appointments for that night and tell everyone within a one-mile radius to clear the area surrounding Randall’s house” The commissar instructed.

The guard saluted the commissar, the commissar echoed his salute and signaled the guard to be on his way and do what he was told.

The next night, at 10:30 pm, Randall was sitting in his study reading a book when he heard a knock at the door. Knowing who it was, Randall gently put his book down and opened the door, with the knob feeling loose in his hand; on the other side stood the commissar looking as disciplined as ever.

“Hello commissar, sir, how are you this evening?” Randall asked, a little too happy for someone in his situation.

“I’m doing well” he replied in a brusque tone.

The commissar looked around the room until he saw a camera fixated onto the wall. The commissar’s mood began to lighten when he saw the camera.

“Ah, I see that a camera was put up so that people may view your death.”

“Yes, sir.”

The commissar sat down on one of Randall’s chairs and signaled Randall to sit down in the chair next to him.

“Randall, do you know why I came here as opposed to going to the other meetings and appointments I had planned tonight?” The commissar asked.

“No sir, I don’t know why” Randall replied.

Exaggerating a pause and readjusting himself in the seat, the commissar said:

“I came here tonight because the people need to see a strong leader to ensure that things run smoothly and stay at status quo. You see, new ideas and innovation disrupts the common flow that the people are used to; it is our job to make sure that nothing new comes in to disrupt the way things are going and make sure that people are comfortable with the way things are now. The people are the sheep and we are the herders, without the government, they would be scared, lost and in the face of danger. Do I make myself clear?”

“As a diamond, thrust,” Randall said.

“Good, now if you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way now.”

The commissar got up and proceeded to the door. Before he exited Randall’s study, he turned around to say one last thing:

“You may have noticed I didn’t come here with any guards. That’s because I need to show the people that their leader can take care of themselves, even when thrust into a dangerous situation. Now then, good-bye Mr. Oppenheimer.”

The commissar turned the door knob slowly, but one of the screws inside the knob broke out when the knob was turned. When the screw came loose, the rest of the knob did as well, and the commissar looked frightfully at the door knob as it broke off in his hand. Sitting nearby, Randall saw what had happened.

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to fix that knob for a while now, but every time I do, it always comes off a few days later,” Randall said nonchalantly.

The knob to the door was broken and there was no way to exit the room. The commissar turned to Randall angrily thinking that he was behind all this.

“What is the meaning of this?” The commissar asked, irritated.

“This is not my doing. I told you, it’s that darn knob, it just doesn’t want to stay on that door no matter how many times I repair it” Randall answered casually.

“But… you’re supposed to be executed tonight!”

“I’m fully aware of that, I asked your guard that I be executed in this room.”

“By what means?” The commissar asked in a shrunken voice.

“I asked your guards to rig this room with an explosive containing the poisonous gas, AXP41, the most deadliest gas there is out there”

“And it’s set to go off in here? Exactly…When?”

“At the stroke of midnight.”

While Randall sat quietly in his chair, his fate already accepted, the commissar was as scared as he could be. The inside of his mind was a frayed pattern of fear that he was going to die, and anger that it was going to be at the hands of a man he thought would be easy to subdue. What was really frightening to the commissar was that his captor did not seem intimidated at all by the prospect of death.

The commissar paced the room nervously until he sat down in the chair next to Randall. Randall looked over at the commissar and saw that he was right where he wanted him to be. But Randall was not one to punish anyone beyond what was necessary. As opposed to letting the commissar sit there and wallow in the fear of death, Randall thought of an idea to make his final moments worth it.

“Please, isn’t there any way you can let me out?” The commissar asked, breaking into a fit of tears and sobs.

“Yes, yes there is. I can fix this knob, but I have a request to ask of you” Randall said.

“Anything, I’ll do anything, just please get me out of here”

“You see” Randall began, getting up from his chair “I planned to spend my final moments reading one of my favorite stories ‘The Dream of a Ridiculous Man’ by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. But since I’m going to fix the door knob and I only have an hour left, I cannot do both, so I figured that you could read it to me while I work on the knob” Randall said defiantly.

“But that would be in direct violation of Directive 10-289”

“Look, you told everyone within one mile to vacate the premises, none of your guards are here and the only people here are you and me; and I won’t even be here the next day”

The commissar thought about the situation, realizing the conditions and seeing that the amount of time left was only an hour, he came back to Randall and agreed to carry out his plan.

Randall smiled fruitfully at the commissar’s decision and grabbed his tool box from underneath the bureau. Randall handed the book to the commissar and began his work on the door while the commissar began reading.

At first, the commissar hesitated since it was an act of hypocrisy, but after a few sentences in; he began to get into it. Despite outlawing creativity and literature, the commissar read the story surprisingly well and the further he read, the more he enjoyed it.

All the while, Randall was working on the doorknob non-stop. At times, Randall feigned difficulties only to extend the opportunity of the commissar breaking one of his own rules. He listened to the story with the greatest of delight and worked slowly to make sure that he would listen to the whole thing before he was finished with the knob.

The time seemed to pick up and by the time the both of them were done with what they were doing, it was 11:55. At that time, the knob was fixed and the commissar finished the final words of the story “And I shall go on… and on.”

Randall knew that the commissar secretly enjoyed the story and wanted to hang on to this moment forever. Sadly, that wouldn’t last long since he had only five minutes left and the commissar had noticed this when the execution came back into his mind and looked at the clock.

Randall opened the door for the commissar and showed him out. The commissar ran quickly from the room and saw Randall bearing an unsettling grin; frightened and angry at this, the commissar slammed the door and ran to the other end of the hallway.

Before the gas was released, the commissar heard Randall say “I’ve given him a punishment worse than mine.” The commissar looked at the hallway clock which struck midnight and right on time, the gas was released. All the commissar heard were a few prolonged coughs and Randall’s body hitting the floor, no doubt, dead.

The commissar, trying to take in all that happened that night, picked himself up, brushed off his shirt and decided to go home, and forget everything that happened.

When morning came, the commissar was still shaken over what happened the previous night, but was thankful that it was all between him and the now-deceased Randall Oppenheimer. The announcement came over the speaker calling the commissar down to the front door where two burly guards tackled and placed him in handcuffs. The commissar pleaded to know what was going on, and was promptly answered when he was escorted down the streets and to the court where people were shouting “coward” at him.

After a short, but antagonizing walk to the same court where Randall was tried, a new commissar sat in the old commissar’s position and spoke to him in a loud, booming tone:

“Former commissar, you have been found guilty by a jury of the people, of cowardice and breaking one of your own rules, Directive #10-289.”

A television was wheeled into the courtroom by one of the guards as he pushed the play button on the set. The video was shown from the camera that was fixated onto Randall’s wall and highlighted all the key details that happened the previous night; the door knob breaking, the commissar breaking down, reading the story while the doorknob was being fixed, the commissar bolting out of the room, slamming the door and Randall choking on the poisonous fumes. Each one of the clips sent a sharp pang into the old commissar’s stomach and made him feel sick as he remembered all the events from the previous night.

When the clips were done, the new commissar looked down at the former commissar and said in an angry tone

“Former commissar, I hereby declare you guilty of cowardice and treason against your own law” With a bang of the gavel, the sentence was official.

“No, no you don’t understand, I love Directive 10-289 as much as you do and…and…”

Before the old commissar could finish his sentence, he bolted out of the courtroom escaping the new commissar, but was met with the swarms of angry people that crowded in the street. The people surrounded the commissar quickly, providing him no means of escape as they chanted “coward” “weak” “traitor” and other such names at him. Punches and kicks were thrown at him and the people descended onto him like wolves to a lonely and helpless sheep.

What happened from there and what happened since lies only between the people, the leaders…and a government that was doomed from the start as a result of learning nothing from history.