It was one of those rare lucid dreams- I realized I was dreaming, but felt no compulsion to wake up. I love these things. For a moment, I can live in true fantasy; the laws of physics stop working in an environment I experience. The jet's steady hum had crossed over, and I heard it. I saw nothing at all, literally- not even blackness. Just nothing. And then a white-clad figure stepped out of nowhere, and in two instants I realized it could have been no one but myself.

"My childhood is over.", my apparition spoke, its face in a slight frown. "I'll play the same games, do all the same things, climb the same trees, still do whatever I want. But I'll have to do things just because they need doing. And some of those things really won't be worth doing." I realized the contradiction immediately. "Power's just there. And that's why I'm here, because I don't even want power. I just use it. They're greedy, I just don't care as long as I get what I want." I've never consciously spoke or thought these things before- just taken them for granted. Why was this guy saying the obvious?

"But since they want it, I'm going to have to fight for it. And I'm just going to have to keep fighting and fighting and fighting and fighting and fighting and fighting and fighting and fighting!!!", my other-self spoke, a scary chaos growing in the dream with every repetition, but it wasn't fighting. It was running. It was running from something... something wrong. I woke up with a terrible wrongness in the back of my mind, as if something bad had happened, something more than fatal. It was definite, but small, and it passed away quickly.

Fighting what? Who? Destruction is a natural part of world leadership. People will disobey, people will get too greedy, people will do things that I can't allow them to do without retribution. And so I will strike back. As for 'fighting and fighting and fighting', well, that's getting carried away... and what was that? Just a bad dream, not even a nightmare, not by any standard. I tried to get it back, to ask myself questions, but it would not come back, and I would not fall asleep. Fuck! I hate it when that happens. There goes that dream. Oh well, I have reality to worry about, and the cliche holds water- truth really is stranger than fiction. Much stranger.

And worry I did. Even a few hours is forever when you have something hanging over your head and a metabolism like mine, and being ten years old- even for me- still reduces patience. It's a fact I realized years ago, that my own youth was the cause of some of my blunders and some of my hastiness. I don't fret over things like that- I deal with them, in a way that normals don't. Another cliche is true- realizing your own youth is a way to maturity. Which is not a definite concept. As of right now, I am officially mature, because I'm going off to what effectively says 'I am grown up enough' - grown up enough to control the world. Or maybe not. Perhaps Daddy and the rest want me in as a child- want me in because I won't be too domineering (the line between 'domineer' and 'dominate' is fine, but important) or destructive or headstrong, because they know that I'm smart enough to listen to them when in power and actually get some mutualism into the place. Mutualism- the act of suspending one's greed in return for the friendship of another- is vital to an organization like ours. It means that the use of force may be lessened. It means that plans may be made more efficiently, it means that a sense of community and belonging may be formed, and it means that the high-strung emotions of this place may be relaxed a bit to make way for greater ease in our labor. And, needless to say, between the greed, the selfishness, and the backstabbing, there isn't much room for mutualism. We survive anyway.. but a Dominator who will remember the will of his organization will definitely strike a blow for advancement and against petty feuds.

Fucking hell. I think too fucking fast! This isn't spending any time... the rest of the two hours drudged by. I constructed what-if scenarios in my head and played them out a dozen different ways. Billy and I talked for a while, and I once caused him to utter "Fuuuuuuck..." when I also showed him a device of my own invention, a cross between a hang-glider and a helicopter- mine plus the reality checks of several mechanical engineers. Fortunately for my health, I can admit that my inventiveness sometimes exceeds my knowledge of engineering or applied physics- yet another facet of controlling my own ego. Some shit doesn't work that you think would work- other shit works that you've long considered impossible.

Sarah was much more used to waiting than the two of us and she fell into what was basically a trance, a trance caused by all the hours-long transportation times of going from one kill to another, doing the soldier's duty: to wait. I played video games with no interest, I tried to sleep, I ate, I went to the bathroom via a special slot in the seat. When Billy found out they were there, he wasted no time in relieving himself of a massive, foul-smelling load of waste (Just what have those normals been feeding him?!), causing me to vocally remind myself of the air-exchange machinery, causing him to comment that I'm even quicker with the fart jokes than the wit adepts at his school.

Eventually, some nutrient bars later, we got within fifteen minutes. I forced myself to relax, to compact my worry back into itself, to implode all my fear and my what-ifs, and I readied myself for what was to come. A wrong word and they could all be against me; a wrong sentence and several bullets could be heading my way. Just.. relax, Howard. Relax.. fear and the mind mosquito will only make it more likely that you'll fuck up.

I made the most obvious preparation. "Billy, Sarah. You will certainly have obvious seats. When I go up, take them. When we're there, say nothing unless I want you to, do nothing unless I want you to. And I am to be protected from assassination. Do you understand?"

"Yes.", they simultaneously said.

I closed my eyes and took a single deep breath. Air in... fear out. I opened my eyes and realized I was good to go, fear-free, for hours. Within another ten minutes, the destination was reached, and Sarah landed the plane- not like the autopilot couldn't have done it itself. She's so used to doing things manually.. then again, that sort of figures. We hopped out of the plane and began a sequence of trams, elevators, and very quick security clearances. The entire inside of the installation was unpainted, made with the same steel my mansion is. Wary Enforcer guards, automatic defenses (don't tease the sentrygun, kids), and the general sense of sheer power all gave the same impression: this place is secure, and he who tries to get around or through it won't even have a corpse left to bury.

After going down a few hallways and finally to a backstage room next to the auditorium, I looked at a wall clock and found I was there fifteen minutes early- before looking at a figure already present in the room. It was Daddy. There was no emotional reaction; it's not like I even have a real father, and it's not like I wasn't raised by machines. If he had asked if I had the speech done, I would have said no, just to see his reaction. He wasn't quite that patronizing. "Howard,", he said, in a voice no different than that I had heard on the speakers so many times, "you already know." And then he walked out the stage door, off to declare his resignation. I watched, unseen, from the side. My silent incantation had worked- I felt no worry or fear, and the mind mosquito fell into the bug zapper and died.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Illuminati!", he exclaimed, in a booming voice, standing in front of the furniture that I'd sit in during my speech. Without a microphone, it would have echoed across the auditorium. With, it resounded from the walls, with no feedback. There was massive, dignified applause. "You know why I'm here. I'm here because I'm old. I'm here because I'm losing touch. I'm here because I don't belong here anymore, and I have someone with me who does."

"Ladies of Gentlemen of the Illuminati, I have a statement to make.", he said in an obviously rehearsed tone. The room went dead quiet. "I resign from my position as Dominator. I claim no power, either as a leader or an Illuminatus, for I am neither of those things. The man who stands before you" (he was neglecting the chair behind him) "is one of the masses, who humbly requests that you kind sirs and ladies accept the presence of his chosen replacement, Inheritor Howard." More applause. I suppose now would be about the time a normal would feel the effect known as 'stage fright'. Instead, I was feeling a curious lack of fear- a brave, driving force of pure courage and will. I will face them, and I will tell them, and I will not back down.

I stepped onto the stage, took a look at my surroundings, and applause welcomed me as Daddy was ceremonially led away by two Enforcer guards, off to enjoy his retirement. Needless to say, he'd be watching the recording of my speech several times after he got home. I slowly blinked once in an instant of meditation, readying my mind to make sure he'd have something worth watching.