by SK Benton
"Ta-Daaaaaaa!" Max triumphantly crowed. "Pops and Tío taught me a new trick - personal pocket dimension storage! Is that cool or what?"
"Max," Jennie said quietly, "your pants are filthy now."
"Oh yeah, you're right. Darnit."
Chapter 33 - Dissent with Double Cheese
In ancient times, all one needed for a revolution were a few backers in high places and a blade of steel. In the modern era, most people depended on mass communications, and disinformation was easily spread by those in charge, making revolution much more difficult. Michael and Gabriel had already shown that they could easily usurp control of vid displays and play whatever they pleased, as proven by the joke they had played on Johnson, putting his personal adult entertainment out for the entire city to see. But to do it on a system-wide scale would be an entirely different matter. This was the quandary that faced Max and Bagatelle. The two military officers, seated at a candlelit table of mahogany in Krynos' castle, began discussing a number of strategies for bringing about positive change in Azul System, while keeping bloodshed at a minimum.
With a massive population on four planetary bodies, Azul System was completely dependent on technology for daily life, and at that point in time Leonard Johnson controlled the majority of that technology, especially communications. He controlled the airwaves, personal console connections, the media, programming, and military communications. Dissent to his rule was swift, and cooperation even came with peril - as Kyle Reynolds' family had sadly discovered in the fraction of the second it took to murder them.
"Max, can you help to run hard lines and expand our lines of communication?" asked Bagatelle.
"G, I've been thinking, and I believe we can do one even better, but we'll have to be absolutely positive that we are dealing with allies, and not spies."
"What are you thinking about?"
"Comms. They work outside normal space/time, so their transmission wouldn't be detectable by Azul technology."
"Brilliant - absolutely brilliant!" exclaimed Bagatelle. "Now, I have another question - would we also be able to monitor the locations of these comms? In case there was someone playing both sides?"
"Oh yeah, definitely. It's a bit draconian, but we need to make this go without a hitch."
Thinking deeply, and taking everything he had learned about nature's technology during his time in the 43rd century, Bagatelle had a question. It was logical, as all of his questions usually were, but it was important to him.
"Max, how can you make comms that work if there are no magic particles on Azul?"
"Oh, there are magic particles on Azul and the moons. They are just inaccessible to man, as our frequencies were adjusted in the 6th century - don't you remember? The Prīmulī made magic inaccessible to humans by modifying our frequency receptors or something like that, so we would accomplish and progress through our own devices."
"Oh, right. Ok, but then you'll be able to make a connection between those new comms and our communications here?"
"Yeah, but that goes through the Hub, basically."
"You know, I've been there a few times, and it seems like an old office. What is it, really?"
"Ever seen an ancient, spoked bicycle wheel?"
"Yes," replied the former rear admiral.
"You have a hub in the middle, and spokes going out to the rim. Ancient stuff."
"Right…"
"The Hub is like the hub in a bike wheel. It is the center outside of the realm of space/time. Remember that overall, time isn't linear - all things happen concurrently, but each timeline in its own linear fashion. Like a bicycle wheel spoke - sort of."
"So, it's connected, but it's not? Kinda sorta?"
Yeah, basically, I'm unsure of the cosmic significance of the whole thing, but I guess in a few millennia I'll learn," Max laughed.
"Ok, so you can make voice comms for our agents. Is there any chance of making them telepathic? Audio surveillance on Azul is hyper-sensitive."
"I don't know. I'll have to ask Draagh about that. I mean, I don't see how there would be any harm, as they would never be able to harness the technology involved, as there is none really - functionality is on a subatomic scale, and we could probably key comm access to the user's DNA, so no one else could use it."
"But when you start amassing dozens, and then hundreds of users it gets dicey, eh?" asked Bagatelle.
"Not really. The Prīmulī have been monitoring mankind since the birth of humanity. You and I were both watched all our lives, our genetics hidden from the eyes of our doctors and scientists. In reality we aren't that plentiful, just a very small percentage."
"Like, what kind of a percentage, Max?"
"I think it's like one percent - something like that - and point five percent for the vamps. Even less for mage-potential individuals."
"You mean people with recessive mage genes."
"Yup. Let's talk with the old guy and see what we can do."
The two brothers-in-law walked over to Draagh's office and sauntered in. He was humming an odd, alien-sounding tune and wearing his bubblehead invention, which made his voice sound tinny.
"Heya , pops. Um, what are you singing?"
"Oh, hello my boys. It just happens to be a very old song from another galaxy."
"What galaxy would that be, sir?" asked Bagatelle.
"Hmm, let me see - the name escapes me. I believe you call it NGC 1300. We called it that pretty blue spiral of stars."
"That… pretty blue spiral of stars? That's it?" said Max.
"Yes, my dear boy, why? Does that sound so unusual?"
"Actually it sounds pretty dumb, but anyway, we're not here for that. I have a question."
Draagh removed his bubblehead with a pop, his face again looking normal, with the exception that he was wearing a wide, goofy grin, most probably caused by the effect of his beloved herb.
"We want to know if we can make comms for our agents on the four worlds."
"Yes, of course, my boy."
"Can we tie them to each individual's DNA so we can trace them and make sure no one is a traitor?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"Ok, sounds good. Final question. Can we make them mental, not audible?"
"Only for those with active lycan or mage genes, but not normals nor the inactivated."
"But, why not?"
"My boy, it is not the device. The device we can provide. Rather, it is the individual. Unless they have the ability to touch nature, as we say, they cannot actively use mind comms. I am sorry."
"So, if they were enhanced they could? Just like Alicia?"
"Precisely. If they were lycan, or a mage they could. These things are just not available to normals. That is why they are called normal, my boy."
"Ok, then we just need to start turning our allies to lycans!" exclaimed Bagatelle.
"Oh my goodness, no, Luigi. No, no, no. Can you imagine the full moon? Your entire rebellion would have to be locked away for the evening. The Battle of the Blood was a prime example of what can go wrong during a full moon. Only the resourcefulness of Max, your sister and little Liliana truly saved the kingdom."
"Ok, next best thing. They only need to whisper, and we install the speaker in their head via magical surgery," said Max.
"Magical surgery?" asked Bagatelle, never having heard the term before.
"Luigi, that is simply inserting, through magic, something untraceable in someone's head. And yes, Max. That is an excellent idea. We can create tiny, organic speaker interfaces that tie directly into the cochlea of the human ear, enabling direct transmission of sound. And even though humans have no access to ambient magic particles, the devices shall be attuned to avail themselves of said particles, thereby negating the necessity of having to use electromagnetic signals, i.e., radio waves, to send these transmissions. They shall all be done by trans-dimensional information transferal. If anyone were to have a deep scan medical exam, the device would be viewed as a simple speck of bone, too tiny to even be concerned with.
"
Bagatelle sort of stared at Draagh, trying to soak it all in, when Max suddenly burst out, "Ok, so they'll have to talk, but they can hear and Johnson can't listen in. Right?"
"Precisely, my dear boy. Very good, yes, very good."
"I'm cool with that," responded Bagatelle, barely getting the concept, but fully trusting his colleagues.
"Oh, I have another idea! Tell me if this one will work!" Max said excitedly.
"Go on…"
"What if we dump the transmitters and build the components into a nerve cluster that we install in the earlobe. When one wants to talk they act like they're picking their ear or something, while actually they're just pushing their earlobe?"
"I've got a better one," said Bagatelle, causing Max to quickly look at him with an odd expression. "How about, if you can do that, why not put the nerve cluster on the intermediate phalange of the right-index finger. Then you push on the phalange, like so." Bagatelle demonstrated by touching his thumb to the inside middle of the first finger on his right hand, "and that would activate sound transmission. Much less conspicuous, as most spies have something stuck in their ear anyway."
Max stared at Bagatelle for a second, and the former rear admiral momentarily thought that the young commander would be upset, but he instead grew a huge smile and said, "My god, G! That is fantastic approach! That's why you're an Admiral!"
Bagatelle grinned, quite satisfied with himself, and was thankful that he had finally contributed a great idea to their efforts, especially as he was completely outclassed by gods and mages.
"No, Max. I'm actually an admiral because I've been in the navy forever, but thanks anyway."
"Then it shall be done! Luigi wins!" exclaimed Draagh.
"What did I win?"
"In-N-Out Burger," said Max.
"What's that?"
"My goodness, have you never sampled the most delicious hamburgers of In-N-Out?"
"Pops, no way he could have. He doesn't have access to time travel now, does he?"
"Oh my, you are right. We should fix that right away. First, we must change our clothing. Max, notify Jennie that we are going off-world for a couple of hours, and I shall make some clothing for good Luigi. We are bringing dinner home. It is called take out."
Max went to the basement training room where Jennie was working with Clarisa and Janice, teaching them how to transform to battle mode and read their meters. The three seemed to be engaged in light conversation, and suddenly stopped when they saw Max. It wasn't because they were hiding what they were saying, it was simply that the two newcomers were in phase 2 and were embarrassed of their appearance.
"Hiya girls!" Max said cheerfully. "How are lessons coming along?"
"Hey, amorcito. They are doing very well, of course!"
The two ladies nodded their heads, but kept their mouths closed, not wanting Max to see their oversized canines. Sensing their distress, he attempted to calm their nerves.
"Mom, Janice. Look, it's no big deal. I'm even weirder looking. Watch!
Max self-executed his transition to assassin form, his new phase 2.5, which up to that point, only Bagatelle had also successfully achieved. Jenny was capable, but hadn't yet tried. The two ladies saw Max quickly transform to something much more sinister-looking than mere battle form - more like a werewolf, but with a relatively human-shaped body. It was painful, but Max hid his agony well - for his mother's sake.
The ladies finally opened their mouths - out of astonishment. Max attempted a smile, which ended up being more like a dog panting with its tongue hanging out, but he got the desired response. The ladies burst out in laughter while Jennie rolled her eyes and mock-groaned. Then, wanting to put the ladies more at ease, she walked up to Max and started scratching him behind his ears. He leaned forward, enjoying the attention, and even started lightly kicking one of his legs for comical effect.
Once Max had finished and morphed back to his day form, he kissed his wife and promised to be back shortly. Then quickly slipping to his chambers, he brought up his infopanel and did a quick search on fashion in the early 21st century. He searched through various styles and found he liked the western look best. Conjuring a straw-colored cowboy hat, black t-shirt, denim jeans and black cowboy boots, he was about to slip out when he looked at his bed. On the nightstand there was a photo of he and his wife and daughter, all dressed in white, on the edge of a beautiful lake. The image was magical in nature, and the water rippled gently behind them as if there was an invisible wind that also moved their hair ever so slightly. He tenderly touched the photo and then snapped his fingers, making a beautiful red rose appear on Jennie's pillow.
Draagh had also conjured clothing for he and Bagatelle, and they were both waiting for Max to appear. However, when he did the two simply stared at him - and Max stared back. While Max was dressed as a cowboy, Draagh was wearing a purple leisure suit, sporting flared pant legs (with stitched-on flames), and was wearing a large purple hat with an ostrich plume sticking out of the band. Bagatelle was wearing a leather jacket with anarchy patches stitched all over. He was also wearing denim jeans, but they were torn up. To top it off, his hair was fashioned in a Mohawk and he was wearing heavy eyeliner. He also apparently felt very stupid, as could be ascertained by his remorseful look.
"What the… guys! What the hell is this?" Max bellowed. "Didn't you even look up early 21st century fashion? Draagh, you're stuck in the 1970's and look like an inner-city pimp, and you, cuñado, you look like an anarchist punker. Guys, here, please change into something more appropriate."
The two started looking at imagery in Max's infopanel, and were about to change into something similar to Max when Liliana walked in, apparently wanting to ask her great-grandfather a question.
She stopped in her tracks - dead silent. Looking at her uncle and her great-grandfather, she raised a single eyebrow slightly. Sighing, she turned around and left without a word.
"Well, at least she didn't say anything," quipped Bagatelle.
"Oh she will. Trust me, she will," Max retorted.
###
The three men, two from a distant planet, and one an immortal mage, appeared next to a pair of dumpsters behind a Wal-Mart Super Store just before sundown. Keeping a camouflage invisibility shield around them, Draagh brought up an infoscreen and looked up the current date. It was Saturday, October 31st, 2020. Their location was Foothill Ranch, California, in the former United States of America. Foothill Ranch was a typical, affluent South Orange County community, full of single-family homes, and featured access to numerous hiking and bicycle trails, as it was tucked in at the westerly base of Santiago Peak. The town was also a manufacturing location of the largest eyewear company in the world - Oakley (actually owned by Luxottica, a company that would be part of the migration to Azul many decades later). But the best thing (to some) in FR was the amazing burger restaurant on the corner of Towne Centre Drive and Alton Parkway.
As they walked across an expansive parking lot, seeing their destination on the other side, they noticed numerous children running about dressed in all manners of strange clothing. Dispensing with the camouflage, Draagh pointed at what appeared to be an adult who was dressed nearly identical to the way he was before changing into denim jeans, a leather jacket and boots, attempting to look like a biker, which he pulled off spectacularly.
"Max, would you care to explain why that human is wearing something similar to what I was, yet you found it necessary to ridicule me?"
"Hey, Pops, something's not right here. It's… oh wow! It's Halloween! Oh my god! We should have brought Liliana along with us!"
"Um, are you sure that would be wise, Max? She can use her skills and magic on any world now. I'd hate to see crowds of unsophisticated normals running away screaming, especially if she conjured one of her sharks and put legs on it," Bagatelle jested.
"I'd keep an eye on her in any case. But anyway, Pops, every October 31st it was like an unofficial holiday, when kids would dress up as fantasy characters and
go door to door, asking for candy."
"Candy? That sounds delicious, but are we not here for the much vaunted In-N-Out burgers?"
"Yeah, let's go and get them quickly. I'll order extras for the whole family," said Max, as he conjured a pocketful of U.S. currency.
Entering the crowded restaurant, the three stood in line, with Bagatelle and Max looking like they were on their way to a country bar, while Draagh looked as if he had just arrived from the local biker bar just over seven kilometers to the east. Bagatelle continually sniffed the air, enjoying the smell of the food that was being prepared.
Finally making their way to the front of the line, Max ordered twenty Double-Doubles without onions and twenty orders of fries (ten of the orders in the animal style, minus onions). The cashier hesitated and gave him an odd look, so Draagh leaned down, his hulking frame (looking much bigger in his leather jacket) casting a shadow on the youth.
"I believe he said twenty of each. You got it, son?"
Bagatelle and Max looked at each other totally surprised. While Draagh usually spoke with a slight, indiscernible accent, he actually sounded like a 21st century biker this time, and it worked. Finding an empty table outside, the three looked around. There was a line of cars, with all waiting to order their food without even getting out and entering the restaurant.
"This was one of the reasons why obesity was such a problem in the 21st. People never walked anywhere once they could drive," said Max.
"And their vehicles. How could they avoid hitting each other? They're totally land-locked - no vertical capabilities whatsoever," commented Bagatelle.
"Yeah, G. That doesn't come for a few decades. And even when it does it'll be a while before people aren't falling out of the skies on a daily basis."
Bagatelle paid special attention to a group of kids seated at a nearby table. They were all wearing what appeared to be external corrective lenses, but the frames were glowing. The youths were manipulating small devices in their hands, and appeared to be playing some sort of networked group game, due to the level of excitement that was coming from their table.
