by Nat Kozinn
I reach out “spreading” my thoughts. It is an interesting process I’m not sure I could accurately describe it to someone else. It’s like any other of my abilities; I just kind of feel how to do it. I need to relax, and think, for lack of a better concept. I feel my brain waves creep outward, radiating away from me like I’m a broadcast antenna. The waves keep radiating until I feel another antennae, a person. His thoughts are radiating out in waves like mine only much much weaker. I can only feel them because they cause small ripples in my own signal.
I feel little disruptions that I know is fear, he’s scared but it’s nervous excitement, not the sheer terror I would expect to find from a solider locked in battle. He’s thinking about how long he’s going to have to be out here in the heat.
I need to keep radiating until I find a more useful mind. Someone has to be having strategic thoughts about the military situation. I push the signal, stretching my mind out further and further. I can feel a whole mass of antennas.
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
My head rings like someone hit it with tambourines. I’m lying face down on a pointy rock. I lost complete control over my limbs. It was just like back when I was the Vigilante and the cops hit me with that Taser. My brain shut down for a second.
I can hazard a guess at what that was, the Cognitive Wave Scrambler. It felt like a tsunami that came in and wiped out the relatively tiny waves I was making. I had somehow forgotten about that concern even though I had considered it recently. It’s nice to know that even though I’ve got an improved brain, I can still make stupid mistakes. It makes me feel like I’m still at least a little bit human.
I pick myself up and dust off. Nobody saw that so I can still pretend I’m an unstoppable juggernaut. Which I think is going to have to be my new plan so I can figure out what’s going on here. If I can’t use my mind control abilities I’m going to have to rely on the old standby of intimidating some hapless soul into telling me everything I need to know. Seems a little troglodytic considering my new found mental faculties but the old reliables are the old reliables for a reason.
There’s a group of soldiers marching alongside rows of canvas tents. Maybe I will have a chance to be stealthy after all. I stay hunched over, using the tents to hide my massive frame. There are three jeeps with machine guns, interspersed between the infantry squadrons. They use WormLights to sweep back and forth with the cones of light. I find that I can easily see a pattern in the movements of the lights. I trace a path amongst the tents that allows me to stay hidden from sight. My brain solved the maze automatically.
The math my brain performs without using numbers proves true, and I make it to the edge of the tents without being spotted. I lie on my belly and watch the soldiers march. I pick out my target. There’s a disheveled looking soldier with a minor ankle injury. He’s doing his best to hop along in time with his pals, but he keeps getting further and further behind. There’s my prey. The sick and injured are always the first to be a target.
Eventually, he falls out of formation, and behind the last jeep. He stops to adjust the boot on his injured ankle and I strike. I pop out like a bolt of lightning, covering the soldier’s mouth with one of my massive hands and using the other arm to lift him off the ground and carry him back to the rows of tents. There is a lot of canvas; Nita was planning on more Differents joining her strike.
Once I feel we’re far enough. I put the man down, keeping my hand over his mouth.
“I’m not going to hurt you; I just want to ask you a few questions. Answer them honestly and you can go back to your friends,” I say in a soft but firm tone.
The poor boy’s eyes go even wider, he wets himself.
“Please don’t be so afraid, they are easy questions. I really won’t hurt you,” I assure him suddenly feeling a wash of shame.
But he just screams into my hand. Why is he freaking out? Well besides the obvious reasons, I’m also talking too fast. I’ve just been making strange high pitched noises. He might think I’m an alien. I have to think clearly in terms I can easily verbalize. It’s different than slowing my perception of time, it’s more like I’m trying to explain something to someone who doesn’t speak English well.
“I will not hurt you,” I explain. “Please don’t be afraid.”
The soldiers screams stop, but he’s still shaking. I have to win him over.
“I need some simple information. What happened here? Just tell me what you know and you can rejoin your unit.”
The soldier nods his head slowly.
“Okay, I’m going to move my hand. Please don’t scream,” I say and pull my hand away.
“Help!” he screams as soon as I pull back. I put my hand back in place.
Suddenly a host of lights shine on me, I feel like I’m under the spotlight on a Broadway stage.
“Gavin Stillman we have you surrounded. Surrender!” a voice yells on a loud speaker.
I hear rumblings in the distance. More motor vehicles and they are headed this way. Helicopters too, they are getting their rotors going. I don’t want to fight them. I need to get out of here. It seems like the way back west is still clear. I’m just going to run for it.
“Gavin. Please! We just want to talk. You aren’t being arrested, you have my word,” a voice that sounds almost familiar says over the loudspeaker… Larry?
The smart thing to do would be to run for it. Maybe I’m not going to be arrested because they plan to execute me. On the other hand, it is unlikely that anyone in the government understands the scope of my new abilities. Even if they have a plan to stop me, it’s for the old me. I can just charge out of any trap they will have devised for me. I am aware that I am being arrogant but I am also aware that I am likely accurate. And right now satisfying my curiosity seems worth an awfully high price. How did the military beat the Differents?
“Okay I’ll talk!” I yell and throw my hands up in the air.
25
I understand that full scale imprisonment would create a nightmare of logistical implications, but come on, you can’t even call this a slap on the wrist because we aren’t making contact. These individuals willfully and illegally decimated our Metro Areas. Business was halted, bellies were emptied, lives were lost, and no one is going to pay the price? Except for us, we get to spend our tax dollars on some sort of commission to figure out how these born lucky individuals can have even fewer hardships in life. There are many punishments that could leave our nose intact but still spite our face. What about fines? What about jail on nights and weekends or whenever the individual is not working? Instead the Differents will all go back to work, loyal patriots working alongside criminals, while we all just pretend nothing happened because it would be inconvenient to face the truth.
“How Can we Let This Go?” by Roberta Clemens, Los Angeles Times
An entire squad of troops as an escort seems like overkill. If the plan was to intimidate me, it backfired. I’ve already heard a few of the soldiers giggling and talking about how awesome the new “Beast Slayer” is. A couple of them keep looking back to steal glances at me. They aren’t afraid, they’re fascinated, I think. I’d like to look into their heads and know for sure, but the Scrambler is still on. I’ve only been able to read minds for a few hours, how can I already lament being denied the ability?
The squadron stays with me as we walk to a tall observation tower. The company halts right at the base of the tower. Then the sergeant yells “Company Form!” and they all take formation. Then no one moves or says anything.
I wait for a few seconds before I start to feel like an idiot.
“Am I supposed to climb the tower?” I ask the sergeant. It’s made of B-Crete and looks hastily built. I’m not sure it could support my weight.
I poke my head up the side of the tower where there is a ladder. Someone is climbing down. He steps off and wipes the sweat from his auburn brow. He’s wearing an army uniform, decorated, but no pins to designate his rank. Besides the red hair, he’d blend in with all t
he other solidly built soldiers.
“I tell you, hell of a place to build a new city. Great view of the lake. Even the ocean isn’t that blue,” the soldier says to me.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” I ask.
“Just a man regretting that he never came up here to ski before the Plagues,” he says with a mock sigh.
What kind of army man would joke in a situation like this? Someone who would joke in any situation no matter how inappropriate, Larry Rosen.
“Larry?” I say, and then I realize I should lower my voice. “What the hell are you doing? They figured out you were the CIA spook with whom I was working. You’re going to get found out.”
“Leave us!” Larry commands the squadron.
“Company! Move out!” the Sergeant screams and the squad marches off.
“You know I’ve never been one to poke fun at the idea of army intelligence,” Larry says. “But I’ve got to give them credit. They can spot a secret operative, provided of course that said operative is working for the very same military.
“You’re in the army?” I ask in shock.
“That’s a complicated question. Legally speaking, any Differents who work in government have to work under the Office of Exceptional cases or Section 26. There are certain elements within the government that desire the use of Different labor outside the means codified by law. They had some fancy lawyer come up with some sort of convoluted legal answer where I work as a private contractor. Technically, I am not part of the military in a financial sense but I do fall within the organizational structure. So to answer the question you asked, kinda. I’m kinda in the army. But right now everyone’s listening to me, so that’s nice,” Larry says.
“Have you been working for the government this whole time?” I ask.
“I told you, I’m on your side… but also the President’s. That doesn’t mean I don’t sympathize with some of Nita’s points, but come on, we can’t have thirteen year-old girls taking control of key strategic resources and righting the injustices of the world. American democracy might have its flaws, but I prefer it to the rule of a pubescent teenage girl. It will be national news that Bobby went to lunch with Jessica even though Jessica is best friends with Trish, and she even promised Trish that she wasn’t like that,” Larry says. He ends with a spot-on impersonation of a middle-schooler.
“You were never friends with Nita? You were never working with her?”
“I’m not sure Nita really does friends, but we were friendly. We had a good relationship because she really did help with all the various Differents I’ve taught who could not control their abilities. The ‘friendship’ went a little off the rails when she unleashed a monster on her enemies and started talking about disrupting the whole country. I played along so that I could feed information back to the Government. They say I’m going to get a medal from the President,” he says with a wide grin and a raised chin.
“You’re messing with me. You’re still working with her. You have to be, she’s too smart to let you in if you weren’t really with her,” I say lowering my voice to make sure none of the army guys hear me spilling Larry’s secret.
“She’s smart all right, but she’s got some problems when it comes to forest and trees. She makes a lot of presumptions about how people act, and she doesn’t realize that we all aren’t quite as rational as she is. Kind of reminds me of you, actually. She knew her Telepaths couldn’t read my mind, but even still I don’t think it even occurred to Nita that I would betray her. She’s sees it all as Differents and humans, and she can’t imagine any Different would go against their own kind. But I was born in 1961, that was before we even had a word for Differents. Back then we all got along …expect for blacks, Jews, women, homosexuals… but that’s neither here nor there. The point is I already picked my affiliation long ago and it isn’t being a Different. I’m an American,” Larry says.
I think that might be the cheesiest, and the most honest thing I’ve ever heard him say. He’s got a tiny tear swelling in the corner of his eye that he blinks away.
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? I’ve been fighting Nita for months!”
“Have you? Was that what you were doing when she helped you skirt the law and track down The Beast? Is that what you were doing when you accepted her help and let her transform you with that monster’s hand? It was just a few days ago that she sent The Beast to break you out of jail. Can you really blame us for being wary about your loyalties? Frankly, there were many in my own chain of command who were against me helping you at all, but I told them you were our only hope.”
“Okay, then why bring me into the fold now? What happened here? How did you guys beat Nita’s forces?” I ask.
“We didn’t. They surrendered,” he says with a smile.
“No.”
“Well, no one waved a white flag or anything, but Nita surrendered. She radioed somebody in the Joint Chiefs of Staff, went right over General Reeves head. She agreed to end the standoff provided that the Government agreed to let those who participated in the strike off the hook for their crimes with no more than a slap on the wrist. Honestly, that wasn’t too tough a sell. Reeves screamed into the radio for a long time but he was overruled. We’ve all gone without food, heat, and think.Net for long enough, the country needs all those Differents. We may want to punish them, but they aren’t going to be working if they are in jail. This saved us all the embarrassment of having to come up with some other excuse for why everyone got let go despite breaking the law.”
“I can’t believe she surrendered.”
“They stood down at the Manna Fields too. In fact, Nita specifically named you as her inspiration for making her decision. She said you convinced her that she had no more right to force Differents to do anything than the government does. Now personally, I believe that’s a whole lot of hooey and Nita gave up because she knew she would not be able to defeat you. We had Special Forces on site, and they saw you fight an army of Differents by yourself when you ran out of here. Either way, you’re getting credit for the win. You might be getting your own Presidential medal pal, especially if you’re willing to help with one more thing,” Larry says and hits my arm.
“What’s that?”
“It’s one of those sleazy government do something bad, for the good of the country kind of things. Nita had another stipulation for her surrender. She would be allowed to go free, provided she lived outside the Metro Areas. She said she needed time to meditate on her recent actions and promised that is all she would do. Now as you can imagine, Reeves was as against that as possible and voiced his opposition in some truly impressive combinations of four letter words. However once again, cooler heads prevailed and they realized they could do something simple, lie. They told Nita she could go free, but they have no intention of following through on that,” Larry says and shakes his head.
“They’re going to kill her?”
“Jesus, no, she’s just a little girl! Well okay maybe Reeves would do that, but he’s not leading the operation. As evil as you think all the big-wigs in Washington are, they actually don’t want to murder little girls. But she does need to be punished. Everyone else might have practiced non-violent resistance, but she was using The Beast as a weapon. I don’t think they’ll throw the book at her at anything, people smarter than me say that think.Net will be a shell of its former self without a Head Librarian, but they have to do something.”
“Sounds like they’ve got great values,” I say with an eye roll. The right thing also needs to make money to be the right thing. “Although I might know someone who can help with that last part if we can’t find her.”
“Most of the Defense Department has the same plan, the largest manhunt in history. Considering how smart Nita is, and how she may well have the help of a few Telepaths, finding her will be a Herculean task. But compared to you, Hercules is a lightweight.”
“You really have no idea where she is?”
“We’re guessing America because she was in ra
dio communication range, but even that’s an assumption. Lord knows what kind of sophisticated walkie-talkie that mind of hers could produce. The truth is, she’s probably underground in a box made of Maceo Steel and there’s no hope of ever getting her out, but if that isn’t the case, you can find her and bring her to justice.”
“I can bring her to justice in either case.”
#
“She surrendered?” Ben asks, incredulous.
“From what I understand there was no white flag but yes, she ceded control of the town and the Manna Fields. All of the Differents there have turned themselves in. The entire time, Robert didn’t stop making light and I’m pretty sure Julia kept pumping Manna, so they should be able to get food aid out to the Metro Areas as soon as they solve the logistics issues. Within a few months everything should be back to normal, at Ultracorps at least,” I tell Ben and Linda.
“And I had just put on a layer of S.P.F. 1000 suntan lotion for the coming nuclear apocalypse. Does this mean it’s cancelled?” Linda asks with a smile. The death of her son turned her sense of humor a little darker. It’s an interesting piece of the puzzle that is the human mind.
“It doesn’t make any sense. Why would she surrender? They hadn’t even threatened a missile strike or anything like that? The military acted exactly as one would expect. Even with the Cognitive Wave Scrambler, Strong-Men and Speedsters alone could put up significant resistance against conventional forces. Who picks a fight and then gives up as soon as the other guy puts his hands up? The whole country knew where this was headed. How could the smartest person alive not be prepared?” Ben demands.
He doesn’t just refuse to believe she was stopped because she so smart, he refuses to believe it because he thinks he is the only person who could possibly foil her plans.
“You can ask her yourself. You’ve been deputized, assuming I have the power to do that, which I probably don’t. We’re going to track Nita down and bring her to justice, and also save her from anyone who might be trying to deliver the wrong kind of justice. It’s not going to be easy, she’s probably locked in a Maceo Steel box somewhere,” I say.
