The Gathering Storm

by Marshall Miller

  “Professor, your wife is in her classroom. She has an overdeveloped sense of duty. Please take her home and help her rest. That’s an order,” Adam said it calmly but with a bit of steel in his voice.

  “Yes, Sir.” Joseph answered.

  “Tell Sarah we know how she tried to defend her wards like a she bear defending her cubs. That will not soon be forgotten by me or the parents of the children.”

  “Yes, Director. I will be certain to tell her that. I don’t expect my wife to almost get her killed on a normal day in school.”

  “Please also let her know I would like to see her after she has rested and recovered. Now, I must track down Major Grant.” The two men took the separate vehicles and went their separate ways.

  Joseph found Sarah in her main classroom, reviewing the class roster when he walked in.

  “Joseph! What are you doing here? How did you get here so fast?”

  “A quick ride in a Falcon, thanks to your heroics. I have orders from the Director to take you home to rest.”

  “I... I can’t do that Joseph. I still need to talk to all the parents, to explain what happened. They need to hear it from me. The children were in my care. I am responsible.” As Sarah spoke, her tone began to take on a shrillness that told Joseph one thing. Traumatic shock was beginning to set in. He went to her as she stood up to argue with him. He threw his arms around her, kissed her on her forehead, and then hugged her tight.

  “I thought I had lost you.”

  Sarah sputtered, then grabbed him tightly and began to sob into his chest. They stood that way for what seemed like an eternity, as Sarah poured out her fear and frustration in tears. When she was finally finished, she looked up at her tall, still gangly husband.

  “You have always been too tall to kiss right. You should have married an Amazon, not a woman like me.”

  “You, my dear, are far from normal. I know that, the Director knows that, and now the rest of Key West knows that.”

  “All I did was get myself knocked silly, Joseph. Jane Grant is the real hero. She killed the fucker. Pardon my French.”

  Joseph took her face in his hands, and kissed her long and deep. “Dearest, you put yourself in danger with little or no hope for success. With no training of any kind to fall back on. That takes true courage.”

  Joseph kissed her again. “I have been ordered to take you home. Right now, the Director is in no mood for disagreement. Wipe your eyes. Then we go. There is a car waiting for us outside.”

  “All right, Joseph. No argument from me today.” Sarah took a deep breath, and then she sighed. “I’m too tired.”

  She looked into his eyes. “I love you, Professor.”

  “I love you too, Professor. Let’s go home.”

  The Director growled at Major Grant’s staff when they tried to snap to attention when he entered the office. “At ease, damnit. I’m not a four star General.”

  He barged into the Major’s office, shutting the door behind him just short of slamming it. Adam found Jane Grant at her desk, trying to compose an after action report, typing in on her computer with her injured hands. “Director, I'm just trying to get this done while it is fresh in my mind,” Jane explained as she jumped to her feet.

  “Go home and rest, Major. That is an order.”

  Jane froze for a moment, and then her shoulders slumped a bit. “Yes, Sir. I’m leaving.”

  A moment later, the Director was hugging her. “If you ever get yourself killed pulling a stunt like that, I will be royally pissed. Trying to break in a new Ops Officer and Jill of all trades, master of most is too damn hard.”

  He let her go and stepped back. “By the way, I already heard someone refer to you as Wonder Woman. Being a hero is going to be a pain in the ass for you.”

  Jane began to tear up. “I was a few moments too late, Director. I had to watch a young girl being slaughtered.”

  Adam produced a silken handkerchief and handed it to her. “Here, Major, wipe your eyes and blow your nose. Then, go to your quarters and let your hands heal. The fault for the girl’s death stops at my desk. I have gotten way too complacent. An assassination attempt, then a young girl is eaten in front of her classmates. Time for me to buckle down and do my job.”

  “I started a formal inquiry into the assassination, Director. The investigators are working on it as we speak...”

  “That is enough, Major. Go home and rest. Let the rest of us earn our pay. Okay?”

  Jane smiled. “Yes Sir. Heard and done.” She winced when she picked up her cover.

  “Hurts?” Adam asked.

  “Yes Sir. My hands and my gut. I keep wondering if I had been walking just a bit faster, been a few minutes earlier, I could have been between that bastard Eater and that little girl.”

  “Then you would have been out of position to do what you did, and you and Sarah Fassbinder would be dead along with that little girl. Plus, maybe that thing would have killed other children, who knows. I don’t know its mental processes. What I do know is that you used a metal fence post to make a throw which would have made an olympic javelin thrower envious. Everything happens for a reason. Don’t second guess yourself. You did what you could, and killed that horror. That means a lot. To the people here and to me.”

  Jane suddenly kissed Adam’s cheek. “Sorry to violate protocol, but thank you, Sir. Your opinion means the world to me.”

  Adam smiled. “Thank you, Major. Now, please. Rest.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  After viewing the remains of the Eater at a special room at the Biology and Animal Husbandry Section of the Dept. of Resources, Adam called Chief Hamilton on a secure line. “Chief, thanks to Major Grant, we have one dead Eater here. The question is, how did it get here so fast? The last report was a sighting near San Francisco a week ago. A couple may have moved down the coast from Kathy’s contact in Oregon. But, all the way across the continental U.S.? I don’t buy it.”

  “Well, Boss, we did just have that first convoy of trucks from the west coast to the east coast, containing surplus and salvaged material. Maybe one stowed away.”

  “No, Chief, that trip took eight days. After spending that many days cooped up, from what I understand, an Eater would have burst out of the truck trailer like a bat out of hell. Someone would have either been eaten, or at least have seen it.”

  “Then Boss, I’d go to the source. Ask the Tschaaa how this could have happened.”

  “Excellent idea. I’ll get Andrew to get me a secure video link with our Lordship. I’ll brief you later.”

  “Sounds good. And Boss, when you have a moment, watch our broadcasts. Kathy is creating newscast history for a new generation to follow. Fox and CNN would both be eating their hearts out if they still existed.”

  Adam always thought Kathy would work out. Now, he knew for sure. “Will do. Gotta go Chief.”

  The Director contacted Andrew, who met him at his office. Andrew pulled a small monitor screen connected to a video phone, directly from his cyborg body. He silently made contact to the Tschaaa Lordship though his personal interface. The image of the Tschaaa Lordship known as Neptune flashed onto the com screen.

  “Director. Andrew told me what happened. You lost a young one to an Eater.”

  While the Tschaaa Lord’s translator broadcast his language into English, he manipulated his social tentacles to communicate extreme sorrow and distress. Adam had been given a video dictionary of Tschaaa sign speech, as important to Tschaaa as facial expressions and voice inflections were to humans. Adam had never actually seen a Tschaaa demonstrate extreme sorrow and distress. Now he saw the waving, twitching and shaking of the tentacles, so unlike the smooth, flowing movements the Tschaaa normally exhibited. It was almost like he was sobbing.

  “Yes, my Lordship. We lost an eight year old female child to an Eater. Now I have a large favor I must ask. A huge favor. I need to know how the Eater got from the west coast to the east coast in such a short time, with no sightings in-between. It seems impossible.”
His Lordship paused, its tentacles frozen in signs of sorrow for a few moments.

  “Unfortunately, I was afraid you would ask that question so quickly. There are times when I think a less perceptive Director would make my job easier; fewer difficult questions. But then, we would not have made the progress we have today.”

  The Tschaaa Lord paused. “Unfortunately, in some ways, I already have what I believe is the answer.” What appeared to be a Tschaaa version of a radar track showed the large unmistakable outline of a Falcon meeting with what looked like a large Go-fast boat off of the Florida Keys. The two vehicles stayed together for about ten minutes, then the Falcon disappeared in the blink of an eye. The Go-fast made its way to Tavernier Cove.

  “That, my good Director, was a Falcon from the Lord in control of Africa. I was only notified of this meeting by our surveillance system because I specifically asked for the information. We Tschaaa do not conduct what you humans call espionage against one another, so no one pays attention to our comings and goings, or the movements of air and spacecraft unless there is a danger of collision. Protocol dictates we contact each other when a Lord enters another Lord’s area. It has been followed in the past.”

  “But not now, my Lordship.”

  “No, Adam, not now. I am certain, as you are, that one or more of the Eaters were transported by that Falcon. Next week is scheduled a meeting of all the Earthbound Lords. This will cause a serious area of contention.”

  Adam paused, weighing how he was going to ask the same question. “If I may be so bold My Lordship.... Tschaaa rarely, if ever, conspire against another Crèche, correct?”

  The Tschaaa Lordship Neptune signed resignation with its tentacles, almost like a human sigh. “Yes, my Director that is so. But now, it appears as if your human foibles are beginning to infect some Tschaaa Lords. In the past, conflict involving areas and populations of food stock would be handled directly and dealt with. A worst case scenario would involve a duel between individual Tschaaa. No lies, no attempts to damage another’s possessions by subterfuge.”

  Adam remained silent. Tschaaa interrelationships had just entered a new phase for them.

  The Tschaaa Lord continued. “Rest assured, I will have an answer or I will challenge this Lord to a duel. Maybe even both. This is the first time such a situation like this has happened in several millennia. It approaches what you humans would refer to as insanity.”

  Adam stayed silent for a moment longer, unless he could no longer contain his curiosity. “Sir, Lordship, I must ask. Why the distress over the loss of one of our children? Sorry if I am blunt, but are they not used like we use veal?”

  “Because, my Director, as I have often said, you are not meat. That is what the so called dark ones, those individuals rounded up in Cattle Country are for. I ask you, if a young canine–a puppy–died, would you not feel sorrow?”

  “Yes, My Lordship, I would. But prior to the invasion, there were people in parts of the world that ate dogs. They may feel sorrow about a personal pet, but not specifically puppies.”

  “Well, then, My Director, I guess I am beginning to look at your young, your children, as you look at puppies. Your continued presence may be starting to influence my feelings and beliefs. Is that good, or bad?”

  “Your Lordship, with respect, I think it is a good thing.”

  “So do I, my Adam, so do I. And, hopefully, I can convince the other Lords that to embrace the idea that violent and deceitful parts of human nature is an aberration. But the love of puppies, of young non-Cattle humans, is not.”

  “Yes Lord, I agree.”

  “Good.” The Squid Lord signed fellowship with its tentacles. “Now, I will have what you call the eye in the sky present me with a workup as to where the human seacraft went. Then, I will let you know. You may track them and the Eaters down. The humans will be harvested. You may kill the Eaters. Agreed?”

  “Yes Sir.”

  “Excellent. I will have Andrew give you the information once we have completed our investigation. Now, I must go. Please extend my sorrow to the birth mother of the young one. All Tschaaa grieve when our young are lost.”

  “Yes, my Lordship, I will tell her.”

  Lord Neptune ended the connection. Andrew stowed his equipment in his secret nooks and crannies that were his man-machine interface.

  “You will have the necessary information as soon as I do, Director. Then, we go hunting.”

  “Thank you, Andrew. May I ask a personal question?”

  “I have no personal life. I am interfaced twenty-four hours a day. Go ahead, ask anything.”

  “Did you have children before your… change into a robocop?”

  “No, I did not.” Andrew paused in thought for a few moments. “But I would have liked to have some, I believe. That is almost impossible now, of course. However, although I am part man, part Tschaaa machine, I can still feel for the young. Both the Tschaaa connected side of me and the human connected side of me agree… the young, children, are of primary importance.”

  CHAPTER 18

  MALMSTROM ARMED FORCES BASE, MONTANA

  As events transpired in the Tschaaa controlled Reconstructed States of America, they did not go unnoticed by those outside the occupied areas. Nor did they distract or deter the citizens of the Unoccupied States of America and their allies from their primary mission: Freeing the human species from the yoke of Tschaaa oppression.

  - From the Literary Works of Princess Akiko, Free Japan Royal Family

  Lt. Yamamoto, the three Russian female officers, “Pappy” Gunn, General Reed, and Torbin were in a conference room at the Headquarters Building for a special ceremony. Only Torbin and the General knew what was about to happen. All four foreign national officers were dressed in their equivalent of dress uniforms, something that Torbin had commissioned. Torbin had provided the photos of Russian and Japanese dress uniforms to a group of tailors, and the sizes of the four officers.

  A week prior, the General had told him to arrange all the foreign national officers to have dress uniforms befitting their station. Torbin, being a good Marine, immediately got to work with no questions asked. Then, Madam President showed up out of the clear blue sky and he now knew the reason. All four officers had tried on the uniforms the day before, and with a couple minor alterations, soon all had dress uniforms their own countries could not provide them in a foreign land.

  Of course, none of them held a candle to Marine Corps Dress Blues.

  The officers snapped to attention when Madam President entered the conference room. Following her was one of the broadest, most muscular black men that Torbin had ever seen. He was a tad over six feet, but his mass made him look much bigger. He looked like ninety-nine percent of his body mass was muscle.

  “At ease, ladies and gentlemen. I know we are all very busy, but sometimes a little recognition, pomp and circumstance is required. Afterward, I will be giving everyone in the room a little briefing about a project for which I need your help.”

  “First, a quick introduction. The rather large African-American man behind me is former Chief Master Sergeant George Williams the Fourth. He now serves as my bodyguard, special assistant and troubleshooter when I need to ensure something is done. You may think of him as a Special Assistant to the Office of the President. He was also an Air Force judo team member who made the U.S. Olympic team a while back, when there was a U.S. Olympic team. In the heavyweight division, of course.”

  Madam President smiled. “He will be staying here, General, in order to ensure you receive all the support you need. “

  “Yes, Ma’am.” General Reed acknowledged. He was also acknowledging that he knew Mr. Williams was the eyes and ears of President, to ensure the General did what he was required. Or else. Ichiro showed signs of recognizing Mr. Williams, and had a look in his eyes that Torbin had come to understand was one of utmost respect. Torbin would have to inquire later about how Ichiro’s connection to the President’s distinctive assistant.

  “And now for
the pomp and circumstance. Ladies first. Captain Aleksandra Smirnov, Lieutenants Afanasiy Kozlov, Inna Popov, front and center.” The three Russian Officers marched up to the front of the room and formed a line, Captain Aleksandra saluting as ranking officer.

  “Personnel reporting as ordered, Madam President.”

  The President inquired of Torbin, “Have you been trying to turn them into hardass Marines, Captain Bender?”

  Before he could answer, Aleksandra piped up. “Begging your pardon, Madam President. We are Russian. We were born hard.”

  The President chuckled. “I suspect that is true. Captain, you and your comrades are hereby awarded the brand new U. S. of A. Tschaaa Campaign Medal for your efforts fighting our common enemy. Congratulations.” She shook the hand of each of the Russian women, and then smartly saluted them. The Russian officers stepped back, and assumed their prior stances.

  “Captain Yamamoto. Front and center.”

  Ichiro was momentarily confused. Should he correct the President about his rank? He smartly stepped to the front of the room and saluted. “Lieutenant Yamamoto reporting as ordered, Ma’am.”

  Madam President saluted back, and added, “That’s Captain Yamamoto. As of last week. I have here your promotion orders, as well as a Japanese Distinguished Service Medal. You should know better than to disagree with an older woman.” She smiled at her own comment. Ichiro’s registered shock, and then pride.

  “In our tradition, mothers and wives often pin on our men’s new rank. Would you mind if I filled in for them?”

  Ichiro looked into the President’s eyes. “I would be honored, Madam President.”

  After she had deftly pinned on the new rank, she handed Ichiro two wrapped packages. “Your Commander also asked me to deliver these packages from your aunt. He said you would know what they are.”