Polished

by P. S. Power

  “Rich, it looks like it’s your turn to be up. The President has a list of people that we aren’t allowing to escape the country. Not into freedom, at any rate. We have a spot for them all, in the newly rebuilt section of Gitmo. I have a map and we have a nice big mirror put up there for you to use. Want to see who we can take off an airplane?”

  He really did, so nodded. Even if it wouldn’t seem to show much to the world. Heading to the restroom meant having to wait, since other people needed to use the thing and the dignitaries had all packed into the side conference room, to wait for their turn to take action, if it was needed to protect their friends. The odd thing there was that at least half of them had clearly worked out what was going on. Possibly more than that.

  That their job there was to hide the IPB involvement in what was going on. They were brilliant at it as well, gnashing their teeth and in a few cases literally crying for those who had died.

  Still, they had to let them all get home, since that was what they’d be doing if the situation was a real one. The IPB wasn’t really involved, after all. Not past fugitive retrieval.

  No one on the list got out of the country. The lucky ones were found by Richard Drake, who merely used his new tricks to moved them into a holding cell, on the tip of Cuba. A lot of them burst into flame, which was a death sentence for everyone it happened to.

  Others died in other ways. A few simply taken by crowds, who’d decided that the self-proclaimed elite wasn’t above or beyond the law any longer. That got messy, when it took place. Interestingly, only a small percentage of people tried to kill their non-leftist neighbors, even if the television was calling for it almost constantly. That was illegal, and a few of the people were arrested for doing it, on the air.

  By five in the afternoon, the base was pretty much theirs again, the ambassadors and representatives gone finally. They didn’t have every person who’d harmed a child locked up or anything, of course. Interestingly, Marcia Turner went on the air about then, looking slightly disheveled and silly, wearing her black outfit with the maroon lace cuffs on it. Like a military pirate, instead of an IPB person.

  “As of now, we’re using Infected powers to locate anyone involved in these alleged crimes. Anyone who wants our protection can call us and confess to their crimes. You’ll be prosecuted, but alive. Anyone choosing to run or try to lie… Well, we seem to be losing those people fast. I wouldn’t wait too long before coming clean.” Then she took questions.

  They actually had a full room of reporters, though the ones there seemed to mainly know better than to use that as a platform to call for a leftist revolution to fight the evil President. The man wasn’t Richard’s favorite either, but the truth was that the crimes people were being called on weren’t coming from him at all. That, in fact, the worst people in the world had turned out to be the ones most opposed to the man.

  Not that it made him good at all. Life didn’t really work that way.

  Instead of whining about sleep, or even taking drugs to stay up, Richard spent the next several days stealing people from where they’d tried to hide, as more and more evidence poured in. A lot of it was survivors coming forward, now that it looked like they might be believed. He managed some sleep, on occasion and to keep his cat fed.

  That was about it, so days later, feeling unwashed and seedy, things finally, nearly ground to a halt. They had the internet back, if in a limited fashion. The news networks had stopped trying to foment rebellion after six days, finally realizing that it wasn’t going to work out in a way that saved them. At least two of the major news stations, the national ones, were clearly being run by freaked out interns who were too afraid to say anything other than what was coming out from briefings being given. It was strange, seeing the news actually be news again. Possibly for the first time in his life, really.

  There was no spin and nothing was left out. They just reported for once.

  That idea got him to smile, before he headed home to catch a shower. Not that he didn't have to go right back to work. He’d been sleeping there, using Cin Mableton’s office floor for that. The woman even provided blankets and pillows for anyone that had to do that.

  Interestingly, while people had wondered if the green fire was an Infected power being used, no one had suggested that the initial attack, the one where the video was run for a third of a day on every venue in the world, had been them, or even Infected terrorists.

  They had people missing still, even if it was a week later by the time he really noticed that part of things. Lydia and Yi showed back up, with Denis and Kerry in tow, all at once. Just walking through the door to Cindy’s office space. That left the room crowded, though he got some hugs off of people. Tired things, that showed they’d all been busy for the whole time.

  That or on a bender and none of them reeked of booze. Just body odor. He didn't let that bother him, cuddling both the girls and pounding Den and Brian on the back stoutly.

  “You managed to save some of them?” His voice was quiet, though Cindy smiled, sitting at her desk. She shrugged, then turned to look at him.

  “Three thousand, two hundred and nine boys, girls and women in the last week. We might have to fight to keep our country together now, but whoever did this actually made it work. The biggest portion of the corrupt power structure is gone now. Really, we should try to start taking people back into Noram for work soon. We need to get that piece with Mark and Olga up, soon. I think people could use some good news about now.”

  Behind his eyes some words flashed then. From the jumping in the room, especially from Denis, he was seeing the same thing.

  We won.

  Which didn’t mean there wasn’t more work to do, because of it. Every day would probably bring more, for a good long while. Almost without thinking, he shrugged.

  “We need to put butts in the House and Senate seats. Any ideas of who to get for that kind of thing?”

  Yi looked confused for a moment, then nodded.

  “Kevin Moore. The old Director of the IPB. It’s about time that we had someone in there who has Infected people’s best interest at heart. He can stand for everyone else at the same time. Really, we might want to run a few other people. Any ideas?”

  Thinking about it, Richard took a beat, then nodded.

  “How about Tank Demore? Sally, from the fight club, too. They’re both salt of the Earth types. People who would do a good job, even if the people they’re standing for aren’t Infected.”

  Most of the other people he could think of were either with the IPB directly and would be needed for other things, sooner or later or were actual criminals. Tied to the old guard who were mainly gone now. That kind of person couldn’t be allowed to take over the reigns of power. Not if they didn't want to have to clean house again in twenty years.

  Somewhere in his talking, Richard noticed that he’d taken a very tired Kerry’s hand. She didn’t throw him off, so he just held it, even if Brian was having to pretend not to notice it going on.

  Then, rather openly, he turned to her and smiled.

  “We can go and get something to eat? Maybe we can talk about things?” That would, he decided, be nice. She was a bit too young for him, but almost everyone was. At least of those in his current dating pool.

  If nothing else the girl was crew. They all were, really.

  After all, together they’d just pulled off the biggest job of the last ten centuries or more. Even better, they hadn’t been caught. True, there were other people to thank for that. Tor and Tim Baker, Eve Benson and her ancient god friend, Loki Lopez…

  A lot of people had helped them to make their world a better place. It wasn’t really visible yet, but it would show, eventually.

  “You know, I wonder what the world will be like if we can get people in power that are just vain and selfish, instead of actually evil and trying to hurt people?” He meant it as a joke, but it came out sounding too somber for that.

  Kerry squeezed his hand a little, as if he’d been speaking to
her directly.

  “I don’t know. It might not be different at all. On the other hand, if it isn’t, then whoever did this might be back. I bet that’s something a lot of people will be thinking about before they throw their hat in the ring, politically. I know that I would be.”

  That sounded correct to Richard.

  They walked out then, Kerry and himself still holding hands. As they moved toward the food, which was about a quarter of a mile away, the woman nudged him with her shoulder.

  “Say… You never told any of us your real name. Is it… I mean, are we allowed to know it?”

  He thought for a minute, mainly about warrants, old trails of thefts and a few other crimes and realized that his original name had nothing like that linked to it at all.

  “Sure. My given name was Navid. It means David, in Arabic. My family is, was, Jewish. From Lebanon, back in the day.”

  Kerry smiled at that.

  “Navid. That’s neat. Should I call you that now?”

  He nearly told her no, since that boy, the one who’d had that name, was long dead. Instead, he wrinkled his nose a bit, then nodded.

  “Sure. We can do that. I don’t know if anyone else will get it. Then, they don’t really need to, do they?”

  Holding hands, a thing that promised a lot more than that, they walked across the open compound, smiling. After all, they’d both been part of making the world a better place. Illegally even, which let him be both a good guy and not so bound up by rules that he had to feel bad about it.

  That was enough, for the moment.

  Being daring, he gave the gal next to him a hug with one arm.

  Then they kept going, because that was what you did in life.

  Afterword

  If you enjoyed this book and the others in the series, please take a few moments to consider a review of it? That kind of thing really helps and your voice matters in the world, so using it can’t be a bad thing.

  Also, don’t forget all the other P.S. Power novels out there to read and enjoy. New efforts are in the works right now, so check back every month or two if you want to find new works suddenly appearing!

  You can also go to pspowerbooks.com to find out about the latest works, to make suggestions and to find out about what P.S. Power is doing in the rare moments that he isn’t working on your next bit of written entertainment. (It’s wild and crazy. No, seriously. Just… Insane.)

  We hope to see you all there, very soon!