by Nat Kozinn
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>>>This is not a social call, Gavin. As you know, Gary and I were friends. Unfortunately, my duties as Head Librarian make it impossible for me to attend in person. I was wondering if you might be willing to let me view the service through your eyes. That way I can still feel as though I paid my respects.
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I open my mind to think.Net and let the Telepath see what my mind sees so she can send it to Nita. Because of my abilities, I’ve always had control of what I want to show Telepaths. I can feel them in my mind, but I direct what the feed shows.
I haven’t really planned out how I’m going to confront Nita about Gary’s confession, but maybe trying to plan is a mistake. She’s smarter than me; catching her by surprise might be the best way to throw her off her game. I think I know just how to do that.
I let her see through my eyes for awhile, sending the direct nerve signals straight to the network. She sees the opening of the priest’s speech. Some kind and true words about how well loved Gary was. Then I change the channel.
Instead of showing Nita what my eyes are seeing and my ears are hearing, I show her my memories of Gary dying in that pit. She sees Gary using what little strength he had left to confess his crimes. I hope those memories burn in her brain like they scarred mine. I want her to know that Gary died with a heavy heart, weighed down by guilt over what she made him do. I want her to know that I understand exactly who she is.
>>>Could you not have picked a more appropriate time for this revelation, Gavin?
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>>>It is a complicated issue. I assure you he is being kept in a secure location. He can no longer harm anyone. He is a unique individual. His biology cannot go to waste.
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>>>No, I am not going to deny that. I have no further reason to lie to you. The fact of the matter is The Beast is a killer, one I was not certain we had the power to stop. That left me to choose between two undesirable options. The Beast could go on a rampage killing hundreds maybe thousands indiscriminately before he was finally subdued, or I could give him a purpose. As God, I was able to drive him towards targeting the elderly and sick.
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>>>You met the man; he is a force of nature. I could steer him, not control him.
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>>>Victor possesses similar speed and strength to The Beast, but Victor could not match the creature’s ferocity or healing ability. I gave him less than a five percent chance of victory. The Beast also proved resistant to Telepathic attacks. He would have likely killed dozens of OEC agents before being defeated. The ensuing damage to the Los Angeles Metro Area would have taken more lives than The Beast did in his years of killings. By controlling him, I was able to limit the number of deaths. It is not a situation I am proud of, but it is my belief that the alternative was worse.
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>>>As I said, I needed to give him purpose. He would not have been content to simply feed on the elderly indefinitely. Serving my needs and serving the greater good are not necessarily antithetical. The Beast saw himself as an agent of salvation. I had to present him with targets that fit with his skewed morality.
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>>>And you are? If I recall, you are ready and willing to put the law aside when it runs afoul of your own sense of ethics. What I do is not fundamentally different from what you did as the vigilante. You were willing to go against society’s values to further your own vision of the world. I do the same. I am simply more capable than you are.
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>>>I assume you are speaking of his daughter, who is being kept safe in an Ultracorps facility. What you call blackmail I call giving a man who dedicated his life to public service the chance to recede out of the spotlight while maintaining his legacy. Releasing the news of Hayes’ daughter would have had the same effect. He would have still resigned, but it would have been a more drawn out and painful process.
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>>>I am, or Ultracorps is, to be precise. If you believe Lewis Khan is the only bought politician in this country, then I have a bridge to sell you. The list of politicians who do not accept bribes is smaller than the list of ones who do.
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>>>The explanation for both of those incidents is the same. I believe you have the potential to be one of the most powerful Differents on the planet.
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>>>Doubt me if you will, but that was why I had Gary befriend you. I already knew and trusted him. I desired a way to keep track of you outside of the official channels. And I am sorry I lied about Becky, but I did get conflicting reports from the police. At best I thought she was dying. I had lost control of The Beast and believed that you were our best, and perhaps only, hope of stopping him. I was right about that by the way.
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>>>I said you had the potential to be one of the most powerful Differents, not that you were there already. By stopping The Beast, you proved that I was right about that potential. You simply need help reaching it.
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>>>If you were not ready for my help, I could not force it on you. I can only help you if you’re willing to accept my aid. Would you have trusted me six months ago?
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>>>I kept facts from you, an activity you yourself have engaged in. Or do you want to tell me the same thing you told the police about that Maceo Steel knife you used to defeat The Beast? Do you think I’ll believe that you found it in an apartment in the Tower?
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>>>It is not necessary for you to tell me who gave it to you, because I already know. Doubtless, it is the same individual who told you about Hayes’ daughter. The same individual who has committed several crimes against this nation while evading the authorities. The same individual who is obsessed with me because I knocked him from his perch as the smartest person alive. Benjamin Jacobs is one of the most wanted men in America. I imagine that if you are entertaining his theories, you are still not ready to accept my assistance in helping you maximize your abilities.
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>>>It does not matter how I came to possess that knowledge, but I also know that trying to convince you not to trust Ben would be pointless, considering your opinion of my own moral character. I will simply tell you this Gavin, the line between high levels of intelligence and madness is razor thin. Many of mankind’s greatest minds have succumbed to that paradox. Imagine how difficult it would be to navigate that minefield with a brain a thousand times more powerful than any of those relatively normal human minds?
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>>>I sense this conversation is becoming unproductive. Consider what I have told you. Do not let your emotions cloud your reason.
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21
That is why I spread my seeds of destruction. My Forgotten Sons are strong; they will not let go of the reigns easily. They must be forced out through disease, destruction, and death. Mankind’s grip must be loosened before my Chosen Sons can knock them off the top of the ladder.
Chosen Sons: 29
The Beast pulls off the guard’s Forte Silk breastplate. He has to fight the urge to eat the dead man inside the armor. He will not grant the man salvation by dining on his flesh. Someone who imprisons Chosen Sons does not deserve eternity in paradise. He attaches the breastplate to his crippled left arm. The arm is all but useless thanks to the bone-crushing sliding door and machine gun bullets, but by attaching three ForteSilk breastplates, The Beast now has a shield of sorts. He recalls an image of a Roman Gladiator he saw in a book when he was a child. He would like to think that is what he looks like.
The Beast tries on one of the guard’s helmets, but his head is far too large. Instead, he wraps two ForteSilk arm guards around the sides of his head. The guards in this prison are likely prepared for The Beast. That means they have guns with enough power to punch through his skull. He may no longer look as imposing, but if it keeps a high caliber bullet out of his head, it will be a worthwhile trade. The Beast picks up one of the guard’s machine guns. He has never fired one before. He has to tear off the metal trigger guard in order to put his massive finger on the trigger.
Armed and armored, The Beast heads up the stairs to engage the cavalry. As he approaches the second story, he can smell over a dozen men. They are sweating the cold perspiration of fear. That is just what The Beast is hoping for. He wants to exploit the guards’ terror.
“Are y’all ready to die?” The Beast yells in a booming voice.
He approaches the doorway to the upper level, puts his shielded arm forward, and pulls the door open. He is greeted by the sight of overturned desks with armed guards cowering behind them. A mix of machine guns, rifles, and pistols are pointed right at him. Instead of charging forward like the guards would expect him to, The Beast plants his “shield” on the floor and fires the machine gun wildly towards the armed men.
All of his inexperienced shots miss, but he never intended to hit anyone. He achieves his desired effect and the panicked guards return fire. Hundreds of bullets fly towards The Beast. He hides behind his makeshift ForteSilk shield, which stops the bullets cold. A few ricochets make their way into The Beast’s flesh, but none with enough force to do any substantial damage.
The Beast can hear the guards’ commander screaming for them to “Hold their fire,” but The Beast has been gifted with extraordinary senses. The normal humans cannot hear their leader’s commands over the din of the gunfire. Only when several of the guards’ guns click empty can they finally decipher the voice of their commander. Unfortunately for them it is too late.
The Beast lowers his shield and charges, leaping over the makeshift barricade with ease. Once he is behind the defensive perimeter of overturned desks, there is no stopping him. Most of the guards are not wearing any body armor. When The Beast slashes them with his one good claw, he shreds their pathetic human skin like tissue paper. He tears through four men before they even know what hit them. A few of the men with semi-automatic weapons still have bullets in their chambers, but a vision from a nightmare, moving with speed and grace that no creature should posses, is not an easy target. Panicked shots chase The Beast as he tears through the guards, but few of those shots hit their mark.
He tears out one man’s throat and reflexively tastes the blood. Its flavor is sweet. It has been a long time since The Beast tasted fresh blood. He has to stop himself from filling his mouth with the man’s flesh. These people made a career out of imprisoning Chosen Sons. The Beast can think of few humans who deserve salvation less than this lot.
In under a minute, The Beast has killed everyone in the room, save one. The squad commander is struggling to put rounds into the chamber of a large caliber handgun. His shaking hands make it extremely difficult to manipulate the bullets. He finally manages to reload, but by the time he looks up to aim and fire, The Beast is standing right next to him. The Beast grabs the gun out of the commander’s hand and crushes it. Then The Beast picks the man up by the throat. His massive fingers fit entirely around the man’s neck.
“Where are my brothers?” The Beast demands.
The man answers with a gasp. The Beast loosens his grip so the man can speak.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the terrified man stammers.
“My brothers, other Chosen Sons… Differents. Where are all the other Differents being kept?”
“There isn’t anyone else here.”
”You’re lying. Tell me where they’re at?” The Beast growls.
“There’s no one here. I swear it. You’re the only one being held in this facility,” the man pleads.
“What are you talking about? Ain’t this Great Basin Prison?”
“Great Basin? This isn’t Great Basin; it isn’t a prison at all. It’s a research lab.”
“You’re a scientist?”
“No, I’m a security guard. All of the scientists evacuated when the alarms went off.”
“What were they all studying?”
“You. They were studying you.”
The Beast was not expecting to hear that. He was expecting to hear that this was some high-security ring of Great Basin. Why would God send him to a research lab? Why would God save him after he fell from the tower, just to let humans poke and prod one of God’s Chosen Sons? It makes no sense, mankind’s worship of science was one of the reasons God had Cabot create the Plagues.
“Thank you. You helped a Chosen Son. You’re going get your reward up in heaven. But to be sure, there’s one more thing you can do for me.” The Beast says and buries his teeth into the man’s throat. The flavor is sweet and the feast is just beginning.
#
The Beast finishes the last bite of his meal. The guard was delicious. It has been too long since he has been able to eat the food the Lord meant for him. He knows he should have stopped and thanked God for the bounty before he ate, but his hunger led him astray. He knows the Lord will understand, but he should still stop and give thanks now. The Beast exhales deeply, closes his eyes, and drops to his knees.
“Lord, I know I was supposed to say this before I went and ate, but thank you for the meal. Thank you for everything you done for me. I don’t know why you sent me to this lab run by the Forgotten Sons, but I know if you didn’t I’d a died when I fell from that tower. I’m not sure why I still deserve the special treatment you givin’ me, but I swear, whatever you need from me, I am ready to be your servant.”
>>>I sent you to the lab because that is where you belong.
“Lord is that you? I thought you was done talking to me. But I don’t understand, why do I belong in this lab? What do you want with me?”
>>>You failed me, Thomas Calhoun, over and over again. You killed three of your own kind and almost died trying to kill a fourth. You failed in the mission I gave you at the Shimmering Tower. I meant for you to instill fear in the hearts of my Forgotten Sons. Instead you gave them hope.
“I’m sorry I failed you. I did the best I could, I swear. I was going to kill all those people. I was going to show them the power that Chosen Sons got, but that boy Gavin, he wouldn’t let me. I thought you wanted me to kill him, otherwise why would you keep putting him in my path? You said it yourself, I was made for death. I figured that’s what you wanted done. I don’t know how the boy beat me. He got lucky. He had help, somebody gave him that knife.”
>>>I do not want to hear your excuses. I gave you some of the greatest gifts I have bestowed on any of my Chosen Sons, and you have squandered them. You do not deserve the power I gave you. I am rescinding my blessing.
“What do you mean? I’m sorry I’m such a failure. Just tell me what I can do to ma
ke it up to you, and I’ll do it. I won’t fail you again.”
>>>The only way left to serve me is through sacrifice. I will use you to empower a more deserving member of my Chosen Sons. If you want one final chance at redemption, go back into your cell and close the door. Prove your devotion to me through your own blood, and you’ll get your reward in the hereafter.”
“I’ll do it, Lord. I swear. You’ll see. I have faith enough to move mountains. I’ll do whatever it is you ask of me, even if it’s rottin’ in a cell.”
The Beast pulls off his makeshift body armor piece by piece. Then he makes his way through the facility and back to his holding cell. There, he pulls one of the dead guards out of the cell’s doorway, steps inside, and closes the door.
22
The Office of Exceptional Cases’ express and sole purpose is to subdue and apprehend Different individuals. The organization is prohibited from engaging in any law enforcement efforts without actionable evidence that the suspect in question is a Different individual.
Article 4 Section 4 Different Acts of 1996
“So we’re shut down?” Victor asks Captain Murphy.
“Essentially. They say they’re still trying to figure out what to do with us, so you guys can make your COL Obligation payments for a while still, but we aren’t allowed to go out on any calls,” Captain Murphy answers.
“All because we responded to an emergency situation? We saved lives. They never would have found those buried lab workers if it weren’t for us,” I protest. And I never would have found out The Beast is still alive, but I don’t think mentioning that will calm Captain Murphy down.
“Be that as it may, the powers that be were not happy that you two broke the rules. We are only empowered to track down Differents suspected of being criminals. The cops at the bomb site complained to their captains, who complained to their chief, who complained to the Governor, who called the head of the OEC Field Office Program in D.C., who then called me to ream me a new one. I had to say that I let you two knuckleheads go, so now I’m part of this too. We’re all on the chopping block,” Captain Murphy says, getting red in the face.
