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Underground

Page 3

by P. S. Power


  The damage had caused his powers to stop working. For about three weeks. That had allowed him to be taken to a hospital in Germany, from where he’d managed to escape, back to the states. The trick there had been finding a soldier who wanted to go home, AWOL, who had been willing to do what Carlton told him to. Even if it meant making wishes like a little kid, once a day. The man had been a moron, thankfully. Otherwise Carl wouldn’t have gotten away from him as soon as the plane landed.

  Twice after that, Carl had been taken by different groups and forced to serve as their personal magic lamp. Being flexible, more so than anyone would have thought possible, had helped him in at least one of those cases. To that end he stretched each night, ran each morning he could and tried to surround himself with good people who didn’t want to abuse his abilities.

  “Leading me here. To the Underground.” It wasn’t nirvana, but no one had tried to enslave him. They didn’t even insist that it was his civic duty to use his abilities for the greater good. It was, but not one person there had asked him to do that kind of thing.

  It wasn’t lost on him that some of the others there were in more or less the same place he was in life. Dan was an incredible person, for instance. Most would have suggested that the young lady, C. C. was the one who was the most splendid that way, but Daniel could do almost anything. Simply asking him to get something done was enough.

  If Carlton went to his door and asked for a cake, the man would make it happen. If he asked for a cake to be delivered in twenty minutes, it would still be done. Possibly with running involved, but it would happen. They could also have asked for endless streams of cash, put the man in front of a computer and that would work as well.

  The trick there was that the man didn’t get to have his own life. At least if he wasn’t around people who tried to make that happen for him. Young Pam saw to that for him, more or less. Carlton had seen her, on more than one occasion, nearly getting into fights over people trying to use one of the others for their abilities.

  Including himself.

  He understood what would happen if they were delivered to the wrong people, of course. More than the others did, he thought. He wasn’t certain if Dan had ever been taken prisoner for his abilities, of course. They weren’t flashy, so perhaps not. Hopefully that was the case. If you didn’t have to be a slave, then it was better not to be one.

  He had to walk to the door to touch the light pad there. It wasn’t a switch, strictly speaking, since it was clear, at least to him, that they all lived inside of Complex. The man, who looked a bit like a biker, in both style of dress and grooming, was holding all of them inside his physical body when they entered the space they were in.

  That his body was also human in shape and form and in there with the rest of them simply indicated the fifth dimensional nature of the man’s abilities. Not that it bothered Carl that much. If he had it right, they lived in his spleen, though he wasn’t perfectly certain on that score. Also, and thankfully, while the energy he felt was a bit disorienting, nothing around him looked like the inside of a body. That made it easier to handle.

  The space was different though. Compact and warped. Probably meaning that they weren’t really where they thought they were, under Portland, at all.

  Laying back on a bed that was part of Complex himself, with real blankets and pillows, he tried to let himself drift off to sleep. It was, as near as anything ever could be, a safe place for him. That didn’t prevent the dreams from coming.

  He hadn’t been abused in the war, in particular. Except that almost every day, he and his team had gone out, with him handcuffed to a chain in the floor of the MRAP, with Renner using powers that were coming from a wish he’d made while touching Carl. Then the man would kill and murder, never stopping until entire areas were cleared of opposition forces. Hundreds at the very least, died most days. Sometimes more than that. Most of them weren’t fighting age men, either.

  A thing that still haunted him, almost every time he closed his eyes.

  “It wasn’t you. You didn’t do it.” Which was true. Except, of course, that it had been him.

  It made his nights fitful. Still, he got enough rest, since his days weren’t really filled to the brim with exciting things to do. Soon, he decided, he was going to have to find a way to be useful there. His powers were enough for that, if he could trust anyone to help him with that. He granted wishes, he didn’t get to make them himself.

  Really, he was a tool, not a leader. He needed to find someone with a good heart, who would do the right thing with his abilities, instead of just using them to hurt others. The only issue there was that he was afraid to try it.

  The people around him were nice enough, most of the time. Clover felt responsible for everything, which meant he wasn’t going to turn evil anytime soon. Pam was a bit rough around the edges and prickly, but managed to watch out for her people pretty well. Pod, Martha in her human form, was good, but too easily led by others, he thought. C. C. was actually fine that way. Dan could work as well, though it would be tricky.

  He could ask Dan to make specific, very useful wishes, that would benefit the whole community. The only problem there was that, at any time, Dan could be subverted by anyone willing and able to talk to him. It left a gap in the structure, if the person controlling Carl’s power was able to be manipulated that easily.

  It was a risk with everyone. Even normal, ethical men and women could fail to do the right thing if the prize for doing it was high enough. He’d learned that one from his dad. Worse, in that case, his father had actually believed that turning his one son over to the Army was the correct course of action. The patriotic one.

  They were probably still looking for him, he knew. After all, having control of him meant that they could have a non-Infected soldier with class five or six killing abilities on command. Carl didn’t even have to be awake for it to work, just close by. Even that was kind of generous, since he needed to be no more than a mile away from the effect zone of the wish. So, if someone wanted a car made of energy, he pretty much needed to be riding in it with them. Otherwise it would vanish at the edge of his abilities range.

  There were other things they could do with it, of course. If someone wished for it, they could just have food teleported in from anyplace that had it. After a while the wish would end, but as long as the food was real, it would stay in place. If you wished for something to just appear, it would, but wasn’t real in any way. It just seemed like it. They could do the same with money from bank vaults or even just loose change and lost bills. Have the things moved to a room there, inside the Underground and no one would ever be the wiser as to what had happened. It very nearly wasn’t even stealing, since the people didn’t know where it was already.

  Well, legally it was, but that had to be a darned sight better than having Pam-Pam out turning tricks or whatever she had to do for the cash she brought home to them each day. She told them it was mugging people, using her power, which, thankfully, was actually possible. Even if not that likely. Otherwise it would be harder for him to sleep at night.

  When he finally drifted off, things were a bit restless. Not horribly so, since the bed was soft and the room was cool enough. It was difficult for him to sleep if he was too warm, since the padding on his torso tended to leave him feeling warm. Especially if he was running an active wish at the moment. They did that sometimes, used his powers but mainly just to keep things interesting. So far, when people had wanted to wish on him, they’d all actually asked first. At least the ones in their little group. A few others there had just tried to grab him and wish away.

  Mainly for things that weren’t going to last. Wishing for money or unlimited wishes didn’t really work. You had to be more clever than that. They could have cash though, if he could find the right person to work with. Someone who would listen to him and do the right thing.

  Really, that would probably be Pam. The girl was a bit young for such responsibility, but she was responsible. Clover was a good pers
on, and tough, but his mode tended to leave him being a little bit tender hearted.

  If Carl were going to hand over the keys to do almost anything, they had to go to a person who wasn’t going to be manipulated in the wrong way. That decided, he managed to get a few more hours of sleep, then got up, stretched again, showered, shaved and dressed in a nice suit that had been provided for him. Somehow. It wasn’t the kind of thing that you’d find in a thrift shop, but might have been located at a department store at one point.

  It was brown, and seemed fine enough that he wouldn’t have had an issue wearing it into court. Certainly, it wasn’t Armani, but anyone wearing that into a U.S. courtroom was a fool. It would scream of wealth, but such riches almost always came at the cost of ethics. At least for lawyers.

  All of the rooms had their own bathing facilities attached, which was nice. The idea that he was inside Complex when he relieved himself was a bit troubling, but most of the time he didn’t think about it. After all, it probably was taken care of in some energy efficient fashion, instead of the other man being polluted in his normal body. How it worked, Carl didn’t know.

  Really, he was good with that.

  Ready for the day, he walked into the living area. That was in the center of the six rooms they had. There was no kitchen attached, forcing them to leave the rooms each day, if they didn’t want to starve. That or bring in packaged things to keep them going. His guess was that had been done on purpose, since some of the people there were kind of standoffish. That wasn’t mentally healthy for anyone, even if their first mode forced that kind of thing on them.

  When he got there, Dan was already up, waiting for Pam. He didn’t get a choice in the matter. Carefully, thinking of what to say first, Carl smiled at the fellow.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  The words got a nod.

  “Yep. Very well. Not that I had a choice that way. I’d already slept through most of the afternoon yesterday, so, you know, I’m rested now.” It was said with good humor, at least.

  Even if the man had a right to be bitter about things like that.

  Then, that kind of thing didn’t really help. No one cared how you felt, really. They just wanted to use you. That was most people, anyway. Even the good ones sort of had that going on, he knew.

  After a moment, he nodded.

  “I was thinking of something, last night. My powers…” He shrugged. “If they’re used correctly, we can do a lot more with them. I was thinking that I’d get Pam to help me with that. Do you have any thoughts there? Someone else who might do better?”

  The man responded a bit, his eyes narrowing, focus rippling across his very being. After a moment, there was a slow nod.

  “She’s a good person to work with. There are a few here who might be better for that, but you don’t know them as well, which is a factor. I’m a poor choice that way, of course. Nero might work, or Mindy. They have their own jobs to see to, so that might get in the way.”

  Carlton nodded, then, almost feeling afraid to speak again. He’d been trying to make conversation, but it was clear that his relatively innocent question had triggered the man into using his powers.

  A thing that he was probably doing ten or twenty times a day without realizing it. Then, as long as he kept the topic to conversational things that might not be too bad. It wasn’t fair, but at least he wasn’t sending the poor guy off to do hours of work that he didn’t want to. That idea got him to think for a moment, his mouth twisting over to the side.

  “Hey, does it help if we phrase things in a particular way for you? I mean, as far as not making it an order or what have you?”

  That got a shrug.

  “Not really. Some things are less forceful than others, which helps. I mean, if you politely ask me to do something, please, I still have to do it. If you bark an order at me, I’ll do it faster though. The best that can be done is to remind me to be interested in what I’m doing and to be happy. Feel content, that kind of thing. It’s nicer to do mind numbing things if they’re fascinating and not boring at all.” He grinned a bit then, as if that were a huge secret.

  Except that with this particular man it might be.

  “Ah. We should get you to write out a list of what you want to do each day then, so that we can at least make sure you can hit things that you want.”

  There was nodding then, as Dan stood suddenly, then ran to his room. He came back ten minutes later, with a neatly printed list, which was handed over to Carlton directly, even though C. C. and Pam had come out. Both of them were dressed, but only C. C. looked well rested and like a shower had been in her recent past.

  The girl, looking too young to be there, smiled and waved at them.

  “Morning! Are we all going to get something to eat?”

  That was on the list, first thing, so Carl nodded.

  “We should do that. After we find out if Clover and Martha are coming with us. I think they’re both still in bed.” He didn’t know that. They could have left for the day already, or be in one of their rooms, talking, for all he knew.

  It was C. C. who moved then, tapping on doors, getting responses that were polite enough. Clover came out, dressed in new clothing, seeming clean when it was his turn. As if he’d already been up for the day.

  Martha on the other hand came to the door, looking exhausted.

  “I transformed last night. Which wasn’t expected. Not restful, either. I’ll cover that later. Could you bring me something, C. C.? I need to sleep more for a bit.”

  The kid nodded, happily enough.

  “Got it. We’ll be right back. You know, in an hour or whatever?” She meant it, even if that wasn’t all that exacting as for a time table. Then, they had meals to go to and not a lot else to get done, day to day. At least for most of them.

  Pam was actually the busy one of the group, having a job of sorts to see to, several times per week. Which, as they all left to find some food that morning, got him to move in alongside the girl. She glared at him a bit, then covered her feelings with a smile.

  “What?” The word was a bit gruff. Then, she did that.

  He sighed, then smiled at her.

  “We can use my powers to bring in food and money, but someone else has to do the work on it. One thing at a time. Do you want to work with me on that? I can tell you how to do it right. I haven’t been, because… Well, I didn’t want to be used against my will.”

  She looked puzzled for a second, but shrugged.

  “Won’t it just vanish, after a day?”

  They were outside, but not screaming about what they were saying. Not that some of the people around them in the Underground wouldn’t be able to hear them anyway. It wasn’t a secret really.

  “If we teleport in shelf stable food, or cash, then it will stay in place when the wish dies. We can’t make food out of nothing, or say, gold bars, but if we just bring them here, that will work.” He’d done it before, so knew that was true. Rather, other people had done it, using him. Captain Renner had worked out how to do things like that, early on. The man hadn’t been a good person, but that didn’t mean he was stupid.

  That wasn’t exactly the same thing as having control over himself.

  Pam didn’t stop walking, but her eyes went wide. Her pale skin had faint dark circles under her eyes, probably meaning she hadn’t slept that well either.

  “Damn. I hadn’t even thought of that. We should try it. After we eat though, if that works for you? I skipped breakfast yesterday.” That had been a bit of a topic the day before. One with screaming involved.

  Dan had brought them donuts, someone, probably Clover, having suggested the idea. Then all of the two dozen had been eaten without being shared. Not that there wasn’t other food available. That was free, too, for the most part. More properly, it was provided for them, which was close to being the same thing, for a person like Carlton who hadn’t been pulling his own weight so far.

  That lack had kind of been weighing on him, for a while now.
/>   Glancing up, he noticed that the ceiling was much brighter than it normally was. If that meant anything, good or bad, he couldn’t tell. The energy from it was stable, like it always was. He’d keep an eye on it, just to make sure it wasn’t a problem for Complex.

  Not that he knew what to do about it if it was an issue.

  The main eating area was very near the center of the space. There was a large kitchen that was set up, where ten people worked each day, providing them with things to eat, out of the common food stores. You didn’t have to eat the food there, and didn’t get a choice about what you were having day to day, but it was generally pretty good, and was, as he’d been thinking, free. There were a few other places that made things to order for you. Most of those places were actually trading their work with you, so you had to pay them for their time.

  The central meals were just given away though. Three times a day.

  Carl nodded.

  “I should come and cook or help serve food part of the time. I mean, I eat here, daily and haven’t really done anything like that. Mainly because I don’t know how.” He felt sheepish about it, but one of the women dishing up bowls of oatmeal, smiled at him.

  Her skin was green. She had a bald head, an insect like exoskeleton and strangely jointed arms that ended in very articulate seeming hard pinchers. She certainly wasn’t having any trouble using a spatula to place pancakes on the trays they were using.

  Her lips were pretty much normal and showed rather standard teeth behind them. Her voice was pretty regular seeming as well. Honestly, while the rest of the package was a bit strange, she had a good face. It was cute and friendly seeming.

  “That would be nice. Most of the men around here don’t bother doing that. Like we’re built in wives or something? We could use help on the serving line if you’re serious. Lunch will start at noon. Get here at about eleven-thirty?” She seemed pretty serious about it, though several of the others behind her, who were mainly women, seemed to be hiding a laugh for some reason.

 

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