Different Paths

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Different Paths Page 18

by Nat Kozinn


  “Okay, he’s out!” I yell.

  Several cops who were waiting safely in the distance move in on our position. They have massive rifles and eye me wearily as they surround The Beast. I can’t blame them for being paranoid. The Beast killed scores of police officers in his time.

  They try to put Maceo Steel bindings on his arms, but his missing hand makes that difficult, they end up pulling his arms up and putting a clamp on around both his elbows, that way his blade can’t cut the cuffs. They’re damaging his shoulders, but I can’t blame them. They put another set of Maceo Steel bindings on his feet.

  I wonder how Maceo felt when he was making those bindings. He had to know what they were for, metal works just fine on normal humans and Cabot left enough for handcuffs. These bindings were made to control Differents; he knew that, but made them anyway. Did he wonder about the moral implications of providing the tools for controlling his own kind, or did he just see it as a product someone wanted?

  After they have The Beast bound, eight officers grab him and carry him to a Maceo Steel plated truck standing by.

  Maria steps forward to talk. She throws a large package right at me.

  “You really like to take your vitamins. That cost me a couple weeks pay.”

  “Thanks for your help, Captain,” I say.

  “Don’t thank me; it is my absolute pleasure to put this dirt bag behind bars. But we’re going to have to call this one up the chain. The National Guard is going to come for him soon,” she says and points.

  “I know, he might even deserve whatever Reeves is going to do to him. It wasn’t for his safety that I came here, it was for my own. The National Guard is after me the same as him.”

  “I know. They’ve made sure it’s on every radio station. It’s all the news is talking about. The Beast Slayer fighting alongside The Beast, who it turns out was never dead. Some people don’t believe it… most do, but some don’t,” she says. Being reassuring is not one of her strengths.

  “Nita did it on purpose. She wants to force my hand. I can’t help the government if they shoot at me before I can speak. She’s trying to push me onto her side,” I say.

  “And how are you going to stop her?”

  “I think I have an idea. Is there room in that truck for me?”

  “We’ve got him Gavin. You said that was enough Tranq to keep him out for a few hours. It won’t take us that long to get him to the Maceo Steel cell they’ve got at Precinct 12. And Gavin, I brought these guys because I trust them to keep their mouth shut. But if a whole precinct sees that you were helping us, word will get out. The feds will come after me.”

  “It’ll be just fine if I’m seen, because you’re going to arrest me too.”

  18

  Log of Notable Ultracorps/Nita Activity Week 240

  Nita continues to entrench herself in the Manna Fields and her “strike” city, which remains to be found. Becoming less feasible to stop her with conventional forces by the day. Continuing to tell Linda focus is on finding Gavin. Don’t like lying to her.

  Theories: Assuming the military has created more Cognitive Wave Scramblers, and they must have otherwise an incursion would be silly, then the key will be deploying integrated squads of various troop types. Incapacitating the Strong-Men will require large caliber machine gun and even tank shells. However, those weapons will be ineffective against Speedsters, which require explosives and their blast radii to counter the speed advantage. In addition, thermally insulated units would be required to account for Heaters and Coolers. Some form of air support would be ideal to account for any Flyers. Doubtful anyone in the military command structure will be receptive to my input.

  >>>I saw the map. There are special forces units spread out north and south of the Manna Fields in a 200 hundred mile radius. They figured out what I’ve known for a while, which is that Nita’s “strike” trains passed the Manna Fields when they were heading east, but never made it there when they were headed west. Ergo, they were removed from the rails somewhere near there. Now, from the locations on the map, the Special Forces units seem to be concentrating on areas with fresh water, which is a supposition I endorse. Now my math has been pointing south, down the Colorado River which makes the most sense as it is both the closest and runs the furthest south if she felt compelled to be on the move. That’s why we’re here .

  <<
  >>>The answer to your first question is the answer to the next two. We need more intel and more gas. This base is where the Special Forces units come to resupply and check in, so they should have both.

  <<
  >>>I thought that didn’t matter because you helped write that book and I quote, ‘still have a few tricks up your sleeve that stayed there.’

  <<
  >>>I’m sure it would help things if we Merged. Think about it, if we could pull it off you wouldn’t have to hide in an empty barrel in the back of the truck anymore.

  <<
  >>>That's absurd. My reaction was logical and appropriate given the gravity of the situation we were facing. And if you'll recall, I successfully extricated us from that particular predicament in the bunker, despite ‘freaking out’.

  <<
  >>>Despite your truculence, you need not worry. I have prepared my own sleeve mounted tricks. You must know that?

  <<
  >>>Remove yourself from my head. I must use that space to prepare for my role as a soldier. USA! USA!

  Ben guides the truck a few more miles, deftly handling the vehicle despite his limited experience, a surprise to no one. A checkpoint comes into view consisting of a few jeeps, tents, crates of supplies, and just short of a dozen large, athletic men, armed to the teeth.

  Ben pushes the brake, perfectly timing his stop in front of one of the soldiers waving his arms. Ben steps down from his truck.

  “What’s this about, we just got a resupply yesterday?” the soldier asks.

  “I need to speak to your commanding officer ...?” Ben hangs following Linda’s instructions to ask leading questions, which somehow makes her job easier.

  “Sergeant Powell, of course. Sarge!” The man yells.

  All of the men at the base have already gathered. Ben is the only show in town. One of the soldiers, an extra-large thickly bearded mountain steps forward. One needn’t be a mind reader to detect the man’s skepticism. His eyes are narrowed to slits.

  “What the hell is this about? Why are you here, Private Ramirez?” Sergeant Powell reads Ben’s nametag which does little to address the soldier’s skepticism. Ben doesn’t look very Hispanic.

  “I would be happy to explain myself, perhaps we could talk somewhere private, is that the command tent?” Ben asks and points at a random green tent.

  “No, it’s this one,” the sergeant says and starts walking over to a different identical green tent.

  The inside of the tent is covered in multiple maps, which in turn are covered in notes and circles. Ben studies, trying to make sense of the overwhelming amount of information his mind is currently absorbing. His sponge-like mental state causes him to forget just what he’s doing here.

  “Enough with the suspense, spill it,” Sergeant Powell demands, annoyed.

  “General Reeves asked me to come down and get a status update on the sear
ch.”

  “You don’t get enough information from the status updates every time the satellite is overhead and an interrogation twice a week when you guys make the supply drops? Look at my patch, what does it say?” Powell says and points to his uniform.

  “U.S. Army,” Ben reads. Nailed it.

  “That’s right. We are U.S. Army Rangers, not National Guard. Which means I don’t have to take this crap from Reeves. I answer to my own chain of command. They gave me my mission, and they told me to check in with Reeves periodically. They didn’t tell me I had to feed the man's obsession with Differents. We are doing our job, that’s the only update he needs to know. If we find anything out here besides, lizards and a few cranky- ‘off the grid’ cooks, we’ll be sure to scream it from the mountain tops!” Powell yells.

  “I’m just following orders,” Ben says sheepishly.

  “Oh hell.” Powell says, waving his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s just that they got us out here hundreds of miles away from anywhere and my guys are even further out. We’re twisting ankles, breaking legs, and getting baked dry in the heat for what, some sort of Golden City of Differents? Sounds like a waste of time to me.”

  “That’s not in my pay grade, I was just sent to check up on you guys and it looks like there’s no news. He was just worried I guess you know with the radios down and all…”

  “I do know,” Powell says and waves to a map on right. “That’s why we give updates whenever the satellite is overhead. You’re telling me, that’s why Reeves sent you, to get information he already has?” Powell demands, his suspicions reaching a crescendo.

  Ben pays shockingly little attention to the soldier who is clearly accusing Ben of major crimes because he is transfixed on the map. Based on context, he can infer that the large red spots represent the radio towers that have been destroyed in the area. Inference, leads to arithmetic and geometry as Ben runs hypothetical trajectories between the various sites and uses those hypothetical routes, to find hypothetical points of origin. Those radios were most likely taken out by Nita’s forces and based on the math, Nita’s forces, and likely her “city”, are in the complete opposite direction from where they are now. Ben now knows he should have gone north, not south from the train rail, but that doesn’t make sense. There is only fresh water to the east, unless Nita trekked all the way to…

  “Son you have exactly two seconds to tell me what you are doing here or I’m going to get upset!” Powell yells while he crosses his massive arms and glares into Ben’s soul.

  “I told you, General Reeves ordered me to get a status update. Now don’t you want to give us a few barrels of gas and say good luck,” Ben says.

  “Of course, we’ll get you saddled up and on your way. It’s a long drive back…. Why would I give you gas, you came from home base… You’re messing with my head,” Powell says, his brain struggling to make sense of his own thoughts.

  >>>It’s not working Ben. He’s pushing me out.

  <<
  “No, I did come from General Reeves, I’ve got my orders right here,” Ben says and reaches into his jacket.

  He pushes a button on a small device and the box emits a dull hum. The hum quickly increases in pitch, moving through the audible register.

  What the hell was that? Powell’s mouth sounds out the words but nothing comes out.

  I can’t hear you. Ben mouths and points to his ears.

  Ben takes a perfect bum kaoi stance. He taught himself aikido through hours of study of literature and a collection of videos that existed as part of the think.Net library. Ben’s form is perfect. If need be he could switch into Muay Thai, or Krav Maga, or several other martial arts forms of which Ben possesses a video based mastery. He moves in on Powell, throwing the perfect open palm strike.

  But Sergeant Powell is a U.S. Army Ranger and has been for 15 years. Before Ben can land his perfectly formed strike, Powell throws a quick right hook that brutalizes Ben’s solar plexus. Ben doubles over experiencing a horrifying mix of severe pain and panic due to his inability to breathe.

  Ben reaches for a small rectangular box on his waist. He manages to flick a small switch and activate an electric sizzle from his homemade stun-gun. But applying the device is an untenable challenge. His courageous, yet sloppy lunges, prove feckless.

  After a few silent chortles, Powell grabs Ben’s wrist mid-swipe and twists, the agony forcing the taser from Ben's hand. As the Sergeant pulls back his left arm, he ploughs his elbow into the side of Ben’s head.

  The elbow forces Ben down to his knees. A follow up kick sends him all the way down to the floor. Powell leans over the poor bleeding genius and unleashes a continuous stream of teeth-shattering punches.

  >>>Linda, we’ve got to Merge.

  <<
  >>>Linda, please!

  <<
  19

  How about this, we do away with COL obligations and instead tax Ultracorps and its subsidiaries? How about we end the Ultracorps monopoly on employing Differents? How about we start programs to help Differents become entrepreneurs? How about we allow Big Brains to own intellectual property, and accept positions at universities and research institutions? How about bonds and stimulus packages to fund human based agricultural operations and fishing vessels? How about we fund research into soil rehabilitation and alternative fuel sources? How about providing grants and tax incentives to help extract the scarce resources Cabot denied us? Are all of these great ideas or even tenable ones? No, but don't tell me we have tried everything so we just have to accept our unjust system.

  “Don’t Say We’ve Tried Everything” by Forest Brown, think.Net News LA (printed in the Los Angeles Times)

  “How stupid am I going to look when you enact the next phase of your plan?” Maria asks.

  “What do you mean?” I answer.

  “Everyone knows we’re friends, they are going to think I’m in on whatever is coming next, so I may as well know what that is.”

  “You tell me, I’m a prisoner, I don’t get to make plans.”

  “You always have a plan Gavin. The National Guard is coming for you, there are soldiers heading this way right now. I’ve got my guys slowing them down, but that isn’t going to work for long. You just broke out of a prison, and you’re letting yourself get taken back into custody from some reason I don’t understand. I know there’s no stopping you, I just want to control the bleeding for the sake of my career. People are going to assume I was in on whatever you’ve got planned.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. I don’t have a plan. I’ve turned myself in and I’m going to face whatever justice awaits me.”

  “I don’t understand,” she says with a skeptical glare. “That doesn’t make any sense. Nita took over the Manna Fields, now is not the time to bow out of the fight.”

  “I think the Government has made it abundantly clear that they do not want my help. If I get involved I’m going to have to fight both sides. That may say something about me.”

  “It says you stand up for what’s right.”

  “That’s what Nita thinks she’s doing. I realized that’s my main problem with Nita. I agree with her political points, perhaps not what she’s doing to make them, but she’s right, it isn’t fair that I’m born into debt and forced into a job I don’t want. There needs to be changes to how this country treats Differents. But I don’t even wonder about what those changes should be, I don’t get that far. I’m stuck on the fact that one little girl gets to turn a whole country upside down. This wasn’t a long term political movement. We didn’t lobby congress and have rallies and try to sway public support. Nita decided it was a problem on her own, and she decided to fix it on her own.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a bad reason to stand against her. Why should she get to control a whole country? I don’t care how smart she is.”

  “You’re right, but there’s something hypocritical about decrying Nita’s unilateral action while taking unilateral action
on my own. I’m going to offer my help to the United Sates Government, if they want it. If not, what right do I have to force it on anyone?” I say and fold my arms.

  “You’re putting an awful lot of faith in the Government and how well it reflects the will of the people. No one voted General Reeves into power,” Maria says shaking her head.

  “That isn’t the only reason. Nita’s been pulling my strings for a long time now. She sent my old teacher to help me become a Regenerator, she told the military where I was hiding near the Manna Fields, and then she sent The Beast in after me so I’d be implicated as his accomplice. Running back out there to try to smash her is just what Nita will expect me to do; I need to do the unexpected.”

  “Mission accomplished, I guess,” Maria says skeptically.

  “I don’t care what your Captain said. Out of the way or I’ll have you all taken into federal custody!” Someone yells from behind the door. Looks like our G-man is here.

  The officers outside give in to the intimidation and open the door. A man in green camouflage-uniform charges in, red faced and winded.

  “Captain, this prisoner is dangerous. Why is he being held in such an unsecure environment?” the soldier demands of Maria, not even looking at me.

  “We only have the one Maceo Steel cell, sir, and given their past history, I didn’t feel it was appropriate to house the two prisoners together,” Maria says.

  “Their past history? Those two are thick as thieves. You should have seen what they did to my unit.”

  “Sir, Gavin turned over The Beast to us without incident. He has been completely…” Maria is cut-off by the solider.

  “That’s enough officer. Your input is not desired. I will be taking control of your prisoner. Now leave us,” he says and waves at the door.

  Maria looks to me, but I just raise my eyebrows and shrug. She turns and walks out of the room.

  “I’m guessing no one ever taught you the adage that you get more flies with honey,” I say as soon as the door slams behind her.

 

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