Free Dominatus by D. W. Ulsterman Page A

greatest.
     
    The man shuffling toward him now though, resembled little more than a shell of that former glory.  Alexander Meyer had been born in 1940 – a Jewish child within the crossfire hurricane of Hitler’s quest for global domination.  The Nazi tanks had rolled into his French village just days after his family had fled.  They were then forced to hide among friends in the southern regions of France before finally securing transport to New York.  Those of his family who remained behind were not so fortunate – many becoming victims of the Concentration Camps. Alexander David Meyer was a man well versed in the true costs of a tyrannical government gone mad.
     
    Having made his way to the other end of the long hall and now standing at the foot of the short stage, the Old Man’s dark yet oddly bright eyes looked up to acknowledge Mac, before he shuffled away to look me over as well. 
     
    “Is this our guest Mr. Walker?”
     
    Mac nodded, seeming nervous in the presence of this diminutive, feeble little man.
     
    ‘Well then, I shall need a bit of assistance to make my way up these steps and afford me the opportunity to properly introduce myself to young Mr. Neeson.”
     
    Mac quickly stepped down to the right side of the Old Man, while the younger woman remained on his left side and the two of them slowly guided Alexander Meyer up the three small steps to the top of the stage.  The effort left the Old Man slightly winded, and he took a moment to rest before turning to face the residents of Dominatus.
     
    “I wish to make clear, to each of you, all of you who call this place our home…that the young man you see standing here alongside me today…is an invited guest.  Invited by myself and Mr. Walker.  This guest of ours is the son of a former friend to liberty, to freedom, to the America we…those of us old enough…the America we still remember.  The America that was a beacon of light and hope to not only its own people, but the people of the world.”
     
    The Old Man’s voice, though clearly straining to be heard, rang forth with surprising strength, easily filling up the interior space of the operations center.
     
    “All of us here, every single one, have made sacrifices.  We have lost family, friends, but we have not given in.  We have not given up.  Our willingness to fight, to remember what was and may someday be again, this is not in vain.  We do not turn out backs on those we call friend.  We live here in respect.  Respect for ourselves and of others.  So, I ask you to welcome young Mr. Neeson to Dominatus.  I ask, as a favor to me, that you afford him your kindness, your humanity, and your respect.  The very same respect I have shown each of you.  He is the equal to any of us, and deserves no less.”
     
    As the Old Man’s words faded, the hall grew silent.  I looked upon the faces of those gathered, as they looked back at me.  The fear and apprehension that was so recently felt, seemed to have lifted.
     
    Dr. Miller again spoke, greeting me now with a wide smile.
     
    “On behalf of Dominatus, I welcome you, Mr. Neeson.”
     
    The Old Man pointed a trembling hand toward the woman who had suggested handing me over to the New United Nations authorities.
     
    “And what of you Ms. Carter?  Are you willing to afford young Mr. Neeson the same welcome I gave you not so long ago when you came to us seeking the opportunity to live your life in freedom away from the mandates?”
     
    Stacy Carter looked down at the floor, shifting uncomfortably under the gaze of Alexander Meyer.  Her response, though barely above a whisper, was heard by all.
     
    “Yes.”
     
    The Old Man nodded approvingly, though the physical toll of his travel to the operation center, and the few words spoken to those gathered, resulted in his leaning even more heavily on the young woman beside him.  His breathing had become somewhat labored, and he closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to gather