by Greg Ramsay
As they approached the end of the hall, they were faced with a massive interlocking structure that could easily accommodate an alpha. Powerful hissing sounds accompanied deep metallic thumps then as the structure began to part, it revealed one highly reinforced door. Moments passed with both Bartons standing anxiously, fully armoured under their pod-issue space jumpsuits, save for James’ spikes. The door parted with surprising speed, leaving them face to face with a wall of waiting guns. Lia tensed; James touched her shoulder.
“Thank you for allowing us aboard, may I ask, why this reception?”
A terse Asian woman in full military dress eyed him carefully before responding, “I am Admiral Amane Yuuki of the Japanese Marine Self-Defense Force. Your reception is a cautionary measure applied to all visitors given the complicated nature of our reality.”
“We understand,” James said.
“You are required by UN law and Utopia policy to submit to a full search and battery of tests before being allowed residence here. My soldiers are happy to do the preliminary search in the adjoining rooms should you wish to get that out of the way,” she informed them. Lia gripped her suit in worry, not thinking of the consequences.
One quick command brought all the guns at ready again. “Take off your suit now, Mrs. Barton. Admiral Yuuki demanded, staring directly at the clear outline of her joined v-pattern plate-like leg armour showing below.
“I will not,” Lia said coldly, not at all phased by their weapons.
“Emilia, please?” James asked quietly.
An angry European looking soldier with a shotgun walked over and shoved the barrel very close to her chest. Lia smiled her venomous grin, barely able to restrain her laughter. In one near-invisible movement her hand shot up, seizing the barrel. She allowed her energy to course directly into it before bending it backward toward the soldier’s face like a straw. Then she efficiently stripped out of her uniform to show off the armour below.
“Thanks, bitch,” the soldier seethed before walking away muttering angrily in Japanese. All the other soldiers present maintained their distance, awaiting orders from their commander.
“So desperate for troops you’ll take anybody Admiral?” Lia asked bluntly.
“She is my daughter and you just destroyed her father’s gun,” the Admiral replied with an icy tone. James’ near slack-jawed disappointment gave way to anger.
“Forgive my wife, Admiral. She’s had too many guns in her personal space over the years and is just getting over the loss of our daughter... We’re both Canadian ex-pats out of Utah, and as you doubtless know from the files you have on that transparent tablet, we’re both essential assets.”
The Admiral eyed him this time. “I have your files from corporate and government sources, yes. I’m aware she’s a top-tier soldier well known for her obstinate attitude, growing disillusion for the military machine, and undeniable qualifications. I’m also keenly aware of your contributions to this species Dr. Barton...” She let the silence hang a moment; Lia could hear her soldiers’ heartbeats racing. Admiral Yuuki cleared her throat. “Regardless of intent or cause it’s abundantly clear both of you are not human, yet have more faculties than the Black Demons. Due to lack of sufficient policy and previous aggression, you will both be held under watch until the UN council can convene a decision on your fate.”
With that the Admiral barked some orders and stormed off. Her daughter as well as the rest of the soldiers still anxiously watching them, corralled them through dimly lit back corridors. Lia was escorted at gun point into one spartan whitewashed metallic cell, while James was ushered into an adjacent one. Hours passed in contemplative silence. Lia sat in an almost hibernation-like relaxed state which she’d mastered to ignore desert heat. Here she was a multi-tour combat veteran likely more proficient than everybody left on the ship, hybrid powers notwithstanding, and she was relegated to solitary. She would’ve been disappointed had she not secretly wanted it to go this way, better to reveal herself outright and get the drama over with. Despite her sealed cage she could vaguely hear James’ cell opening before soldiers marched him off to fight a political war for them both.
Eventually James arrived in a conference style chamber with two chairs facing a far off empty wall. He sat in one, waiting for Lia to fill the other, but she never came. The smooth ceiling parted all around him in perfect slim rectangles. Small electric motors hummed, lowering crisp thin see-through glass in front of him like a perfect heads-up display. Almost immediately, he was staring at faces from all over the world; he recognized a few of them.
A fair-skinned blonde lady spoke first, “Dr. Barton, my name is Cecilia Woodrow, acting Prime Minister of Canada. Before you are leaders from all present UN countries. I understand you boarded recently seeking asylum?”
“I did, with my wife, Emilia.” James replied.
“During which time, you were screened by UN peacekeepers under the command of one Admiral Yuuki, correct?” Woodrow asked.
“Yes,” James replied. “And during that time, two things occurred. First it was exposed that you and your wife possess unique circumstances. And second, your wife Emilia assaulted and belittled Captain Yuuki, daughter of the aforementioned Admiral using foreign abilities. Are these things correct?”
“Yes Prime Minister, I’m sure you have footage to corroborate this. I’m here with the sole purpose of securing safe haven for myself and Emilia, who is loyal to her country beyond fault. Her actions were a result of extenuating circumstances including, but not limited to, the recent loss of our daughter, Victoria.”
“I understand, and while that point is noted it should also be noted that the delegates here have greater concern for your more unique circumstances. We acknowledge both of your accomplishments. We are not only weary of what you’ve exhibited, but also what you yourself have brought about.”
“The Black Death!” a portly Italian delegate exclaimed.
“Your miracle cure killed not only my daughter, but also your own, and neither were in any way recent!” an East Indian delegate remarked angrily. Many either stared at him with hatred for the man he was, while others either seemed fearful or regretful.
“And now not only are you one of the monsters you made so many of us into, but you have the audacity to retain the monster that you already were!” a muscular looking African American woman seethed in his peripheral vision.
To distract from his guilt, as a means of maintaining composure, he took stock of whom was in attendance. There was a delegate each from Canada (labelled by footnote as a US colony), Italy, United States, Afghanistan, Syria, China, South Korea, North Korea, Japan, Russia, Australia, a few lesser European delegates – listed as appointed based on surviving their respective delegates during the apocalypse, and finally Africa, which he read on the screen of his latest admonisher. Noting the lack of delegates from countless other listed countries, Barton looked subdued.
“I can only apologize for the outcome of the initial L strain. As you all likely know, it was developed to save my daughter, which for a time it did. I later hoped an updated version would save my infected wife Emilia, despite the finally apparent risks. Her unique circumstances as well as my own are a result of being subjected to separate versions of the strain, and inner will to survive. Had I any indication of what would eventually happen to my daughter, and by extension humanity I NEVER...never would’ve subjected her to the L strain.” Tears started to fall from his eyes, he continued, “My circumstance specifically results from a sense of responsibility. Emilia, my wife, was trapped in PsychoLife simulation to suspend her body and save it from the alien substance ravaging her all the way to her brain, something she sustained while securing the alien technology that keeps you all safer now...”
He let that sink in a moment before wiping his tears, then continued uninterrupted, “I took my own updated strain built around new discoveries to enhance its compatibility. I wanted to use myself, not to assuage my guilt, but so that she’d have slightly better chances o
f survival. Miraculously, I gradually became something of a hybrid, in full control of both my alien capabilities, and of my own faculties. After a highly stressful, fragile, uncertain recovery period, Emilia did too, thanks to her own unique strain.”
The Italian delegate scoffed, “So after what your own work did to your poor child, rather than learn from that – humanity be damned – you subjected your wife to it?! You’re mad!”
James sighed. “There are times when a man must realize what he’s good for. I know what my work has brought about, but against the very alien substances it’s based on, it was my only way, my only chance to do anything to save her... I couldn’t lose her too. She knew the risks and wasn’t ready to give up.”
Prime Minister Woodrow calmly raised a hand to halt further verbal aggression. “You say you and your wife control your...abilities. Say we accept that, which I’m not confirming we do... There’s one glaring point I’d like addressed – your daughter. Victoria Barton is listed as having been medically dead, in stasis, for years now. How can your wife be suffering from her recent death if she has her mental faculties as you say?” she asked pointedly. The other delegates eyed him intently like a criminal sheep surrounded by wolves.
“Emilia was still discovering her new abilities – which exponentially outweigh my own – and came to the conclusion she would be able to resurrect Victoria, as well as her squad mates.” There were audible gasps of shock, horror and revulsion from the group. Regardless he continued, “She succeeded for a time. Her... power woke everyone from their cocoons of infection in a way that no modern medicine could. Unfortunately, it didn’t last. Emilia was forced to watch all those she love mutate into unparalleled alphas – what you might call alpha Black Demons – then forced to... put them down before they killed us both.” James ended his story emotionally exhausted; he looked to each delegate in turn, desperately hoping they would at least pity her. Instead there was a stressful tense silence marked by increasing looks of revulsion and horror on the faces of his judges.
“It seems neither of you can leave well enough alone...” the Afghani delegate remarked.
James became overwhelmingly depressed; he addressed the delegate calmly, trying to maintain his resolve, “She was simply desperate to make all her fighting worthwhile, to make humanity’s sacrifice as well as all of her own, worthwhile! She thought as a hybrid survivor with abilities beyond my capacity to scientifically quantify, she might have been the answer. I warned her of the irony, but couldn’t begrudge her the attempt. Had she been right she may’ve been able to revert all of the shifted back to who they were. Instead she had to kill her own daughter, kill her friends, and now live on knowing she has nothing but the worthless husband that started it all. Please direct all your scorn to me, she is merely a stressed victim!” Silence befell the space, their looks of revulsion faltered just briefly, though not for him. James was fine with that.
“Dr. Barton, it should be noted that the mere 117 survivors aboard this vessel are here because of an apparent natural immunity to the mutagenic affects – if it can even be called that – of your strain. In essence, while you inadvertently created an apocalypse, your intents were realized to a small extent. Those of us here were either saved by your work or were already here. As such, our final decision on your request for asylum will be made by vote of all delegates, juried by public opinion. The final outcome will be presented by me as your national delegate.”
James nodded in acknowledgement. “I saw the ship’s exterior; the alien terrorists are still causing issues for you all even here. I say this to remind you that Emilia is a victim of my work, but she is also uniquely suited to combat that issue on multiple levels. If you decide to reject me please be reasonable in your judgement of her... After all she’s been through, she seems quite content to launch herself into space. I’m hoping at least she’ll be given the chance to find renewed purpose here.” The delegates nodded in acknowledgment and James was returned abruptly to his solitary cell.
Days passed with their only human contact coming from food delivery. Lia sat on her cot brooding, occasionally humoured by the increasing uproarious protest at James’ arrival. Once more Lia was left caged while James was unceremoniously led back to the conference room. He arrived right in the middle of a passionate debate between delegates. Lia strained to hear the verdict, but couldn’t hear anything above the familiar sounds of protest and battles. Lia smirked, battle was her specialty, even better it sounded like humans vs shifted. She knew all they had to do was free her and the shifted would fall. Though she wasn’t arrogant enough to not consider those sounds might be combat simulations. Maintaining a stoic composure for the cameras, she inwardly worried for James. She knew deep down he’d defend her, but could he even defend himself? Intentions aside, he did start an extinction level apocalypse.
James stood calmly, too riled up to sit.
“We’ve been at this for days!” Prime Minister Woodrow stated exasperatedly trying to put a rest to the arguing. “The jury of public opinion has done nothing but protest!” she continued. All delegates looked to James critically. “A verdict is mandated in the next ten minutes. During that time jury votes will be tallied, you will be informed of our viewpoints, and allowed to make any supporting testimony. As there are extenuating circumstances, any testimony in your favour will be considered,” she concluded.
The Italian delegate spoke up next. “Dr. Barton, I am of the opinion both you and your wife should be denied asylum here. I’m aware of your capacity as a scientist, however I feel you’ve given humanity all you can, and your last gift killed my whole family,” he said with practised political monotone, his eyes betraying his pain, while many delegates seconded his views passionately.
“It is for that capacity I can overlook the collateral damage of his work,” the Japanese delegate interjected. “I also lost loved ones. Thus I understand wanting to avenge them. However vengeance upon a man with no malice holds no value. Had he any ill intent for this species, he wouldn’t have subjected his daughter to his work first. Natural scope of life dictates a priority on one’s kin before those unimportant, after all,” he said calmly, his face betraying no emotion.
“To hell with them both,” the African delegate exclaimed, drawing uproarious support from North Korea and China, which started another near unintelligible argument.
“ENOUGH!” the Russian delegate screamed with imposing force. “I cannot waste breath with further bickering of children. We all have suffered thanks to him, yet we all have gained by being here, a place more secure due to his work. One man cannot bear the weight of it all. While none of you are, I acknowledge I cannot be impartial. I cede my position as eleventh vote.” With that the Russian delegate’s screen went blank, receding quietly into the ceiling.
“We acknowledge ten members remain. Vote will now be held with the sway depending solely on jury votes.”
Chapter 5 – Demon
Without warning, the uproarious protestors burst into the guarded conference room. Each member was seething with vengeance; they were armed to the teeth. Keeping his gaze on the delegates’ screens, he let his armour gently free so as to not damage his jumpsuit, leaving his mask for last. Various protestors opened fire with no regard for environmental damage, tears streaming from their raging eyes.
James staggered with the force of many blows, allowing a few to knock him down. Gradually he allowed the slight damage to his armour to mend, focusing tendrils at his feet to act as mooring spikes. All delegates screamed for cease-fire as more shots rang out. James stood calmly, shutting out what pain he experienced, determined to show a peaceful stance. In time the attack lost steam so he slowly turned around to face his would-be assassins. Many were just blue collar average men and women. Some were even what he would classify as children. All of them looked to him like the devil incarnate, a monster with the nerve to infect their last bastion of hope.
“YOU HEARTLESS EVIL SCUM, HOW DARE YOU COME HERE?!” one wrinkled man scream
ed.
“You should’ve died with your daughter!” a young woman seethed.
Just as with the delegates, their hatred became a screaming match over each other. Though James could hear it all. He wanted to, in some way, feel accountable. He raised his arms wide slowly willing them to shoot more.
“STAND DOWN!” a powerful voice demanded. The crowd was forcibly parted by UN soldiers to allow Admiral Yuuki passage. Those still driven by rage either fought the soldiers or questioned their loyalty to humanity. Many soldiers looked poised to join their cause. Eyes ablaze with rage, Admiral Yuuki and her daughter marched to the delegation, stopping just in front of James threateningly. She took up a stance as if she was on a court podium. “Honoured delegates, I bring to you the results of the juried voting which included all present humans aboard Utopia Prime,” she said.
“Thank you, Admiral,” Prime Minister Woodrow said; she read the tally wirelessly sent to her device, as did all present.
The Admiral spoke up, “While I and my daughter both have cause to be against their asylum request, I would like to add my own testimony.”
The prime minister replied, “We acknowledge your request and approve.”
The Admiral stated, “I would like it known that despite the outburst of Mrs. Emilia Barton, her service record proves her potential value alone. Having lost a daughter myself I can forgive her actions in hindsight. The power she exhibited suggests she could’ve easily killed Captain Yuuki, who instead stands before you. If that power can be allied to our cause she would be undeniably valuable. Moreover we both acknowledge her as a circumstantial victim resulting from her husband’s work. All that said I cannot abide her aggression toward my daughter, a UN peacekeeper, as a matter of principle. I suggest she be detained accordingly should she be allowed to remain aboard.
