The patroller took out a piece of paper and a pen, and asked, “What is your business here in Bata Taun?”
“Uh, we’re hoping to get out of the wastes, looking for a better life in the Canadian-Japanese Union territories,” he replied in a musical, mellow voice.
“Hmmm,” mumbled the patroller, writing down what he heard. “I shall have to ask you a few questions. I assume you are the caretaker of those children?” the patroller asked, pointing to the two smaller figures.
“Yes. I am.”
“Very good. Name? Include any surname and your given name, please.”
“Jim.”
“Jim?”
“Jim.”
“Your last name, sir?”
“Uhhh …”
“I see. Sir,” said the patroller, marking an X on the last name place, “I’ll assume you’re male. Nationality?”
“Well, none, Sir; but previously, American.”
“Uh-huh. Date of birth?”
“Uhhh….”
“I see. Sir, do you know your age?”
“No. 20-something.”
“I’ll put down 26. Size?”
“Uh, I would say 6 feet.”
“I would say that too,” the patroller agreed, scribbling it down.
“Weight?”
Jim appeared to look over himself in the darkness. “I would say 200 pounds.”
“And none of that fat!” the patroller remarked, “Occupation?”
“Musician.
“Okay. Religion?”
“Well, Sir. I don’t know.”
“I’d recommend Buddhism rather than that new Windmill God…”
“I’m sorry,” Jim cut in, “I would like to talk, but I would really rather like to get in.”
“Oh, yes, ahem. Race?”
“Can’t you tell?”
“Can’t see anything in this night.”
“African.”
“What’s that?”
“Black.”
“Ah. Well…Hey, are you one of those griot guys?”
“Technically, I guess.”
“Well, I believe that’s everything. Oh, one more thing. Superpowers?”
“I’d rather …”
“It’s mandatory.”
Jim sighed deeply, “I have the ability to conjure up other realities into our existence.”
“Oh? How?”
“If it doesn’t need to be answered, I’d rather not say.”
“Oh, right. Just curious. Okay, that’s everything: give me the size, weight, sex, names and any other preliminaries about your kids. I’ll assume they’re the same as you in all others.”
“Well, first thing, they’re not Black, they’re Caucasian.”
“Hmm, what’s that? From where in Asia?”
“White,” corrected Jim.
“Ah.”
“Their names are Mic and Red.”
After the other preliminaries were done, the gate patroller said, “Welcome to Bata Taun. Anything you would like to state?”
Jim glanced up at the 40-foot tall samurai wolf with tentacles. The thing stomped back and forth on patrol on parrot feet.
“Yes,” remarked Jim. “How do you make those beasts?”
“They prefer to be called warriors, sir. I heard from her,” the gate patroller pointed to his giant comrade, “that her kind are grown in vats genetically modified with all the bloodthirstiness of Canadians combined with wolf, octopus, parrot, and superpower genes, then they’re shipped off to the training ground to be trained as samurai and hone their superpower abilities, namely the laser-eye-mouth thing.”
“Wow!” cried Jim. “Ever seen him do it?”
“No, and it’s a her,” said the patroller to Jim. “And a word of advice, Sir. Them inside can smell someone who’s been out in the waste. I suggest you take a wash.”
“Thank you.”
The giant samurai let all three of them into the town of Bata Taun.
Two
Bata Taun, Canadian-Japanese Union territories, south side immigrant district. Four weeks later.
A woman in a hijab with a veil and many coverings knocked on Jim’s door. The door opened. Red stared up at the ebony Black woman who was large and muscled. She knelt down to him and greeted, “Hello there, little one. Can you go get your father for me? I would like to speak with him.”
Red nodded, saying, “Come on in.”
The woman walked into the messy apartment. It was cramped and had not a lot of furniture in it, merely five wooden chairs in all of the living room. Half-eaten food and broken things littered the place. In a corner, Mic was reading a book given to him by Jim. It was written by the warrior-poet Philip Jose Farmer. Mic glanced up from it, nodded at the lady, and went back to reading the book.
Suddenly, the sound of a bottle smashing was heard from the other room. Then, Jim’s muffled voice: “Red! How many times do I have to tell you! Don’t come in here when I’m …”
“I’m sorry that I scared you. Look. A lady came to see you,” came the calm, muffled words of Red.
“Alright. Alright. I’ll see her.”
Jim walked in. The woman looked over his frame: his skin was a mild-light colour of brown. It could be seen that he was very muscular, though he looked a little gaunt. His face was very handsome yet unshaven. Jim’s hair was bizarrely cut. He wore white pants and a light, sleeveless, multi-colored coat with no shirt on. A candy bar was placed in one pocket of his many-hued coat.
He sat down, rearranging his chair.
“Hello,” he greeted. “You, ah, are a proselytizer? If that’s so, I have nothing against the fine religion of Islam, but I don’t particularly …”
“I am not a proselytizer,” said the woman. “Allow me to introduce myself – Maryam. If I may ask, what was going on in that room?”
Jim rearranged himself on his seat, blushing a little. “Sometimes, I get drunk and get into profound rages. I know, it’s bad.” He weirdly talked about it like it was normal, “I hate it. I always go to another room to be alone when it happens. I am never around these kids when I’m in that state.”
Maryam straightened and looked at him, saying, “You must be in the late stages of one right now.”
“Yes, but I’m sociable.” This made it easy to understand why he was talking about his drinking so casually.
“Are you the father of those two?” She looked at Red who watched her and Jim, and Mic, who was still focusing on his book.
Jim mumbled, nodding, “Yeah, I’m their caretaker. Found them homeless and orphaned in the British refugee camps. Chose to take them in. I’m teaching them. I’m a musician.”
“Yes. I think I’ve gone to one restaurant where you performed.”
“Yes, I’ve done a few gigs now.”
Maryam hunched over and stared more closely at Jim. “Jim, the reason I’ve come here is to offer a proposition to you. I understand that you have a superpower. I think you can put it to good use. I’m with a group, you see. We’re having a meeting at Ray’s bookstore soon. Would you like to come with me?”
Jim glanced up at Maryam, he didn’t like the veil and the coverings which made all facial emotion impossible to see.
“Red? Mic? You have any plans?” asked Jim.
“No,” replied Red.
“I can read my book anywhere, here or there,” answered Mic.
“Good. We’re going off to the bookstore.”
***
Ray’s bookstore was the only bookstore in town. Jim had found that out quickly. After the fallout, the paper and publishing industry had been hit hard, allowing for more independent people with a simple printing press to get by. Thus, this was how Jim was acquainted with the works of Philip Jose Farmer, the warrior-poet.
While Maryam knocked at the door, Jim looked at the tacky, tattered, and outdated architectural front of the bookstore, packed into the same building as many other shops. Jim, with his two kids beside him, wondered, “Why the hell am I here?”
The man stood aside and motioned the four in, saying, “Ah, Maryam, come in. And you must be Jim and his boys! Come in.”
They entered the under-supplied store and walked behind the front desk and into a back room. There, in this back room, were two others around a tea table, drinking massive amounts of tea and coffee beside the piles of unshelved books.
One was a Korean man, handsome, kind-looking, and wearing a bouncer’s striped shirt. He was sitting on a sofa.
The other stood behind the sofa, shaking her arms and hips in a little energetic dance. She was a young, tired looking, brown woman, who danced with a weird bounce with a seemingly unlimited amount of energy.
Maryam moved to a chair and seated herself, while the man from the door went to the table and poured her some coffee.
Maryam glanced at Jim and said, “Sit down, sit down, you’re welcome here. Don’t stand there looking embarrassed.”
Jim sat down on another chair, while Red and Mic climbed onto the sofa.
“I believe introductions are in order. I’m Maryam, as you know. I work at the town hall as a clerk, that’s how we found you. This is…”
The Korean man picked up the talk, explaining, “Hi. I’m Yi. I work as a bouncer for the bar down the street. I was brought here by my parents. The Canadian-Japanese Union needed workers here.”
The constantly moving girl spoke up, “Hello! Hello! Hello! I am Ms Blank. I am not working right now and currently living at Maryam’s place.”
The man at the door then told his story, “I’m Ray Burroughs. I entered the U.S. military but was kicked out for heart problems. Started this bookshop here then.”
“Oh, you were in the U.S. forces too?” spoke Jim, “I was in the Army…Airborne, but was invalidated by a broken ankle and injured back. I, uh, hiked it out in the fallout wastes deserts with those two for a while,” Jim pointed at his kids, “I’m Jim, but you probably already know that.”
Maryam sighed, then said, “Well, Jim, the reason we are all here is because we are trying to get a team up and running.”
“You said something about superpowers?” asked Red.
“Yes, a superpowered team!” cried Maryam.
“So what are all your superpowers?” asked Mic, casually glancing up from his book.
Jim was about to tell Mic not to talk about superpowers so lightly, but was stopped in surprise and amazement when Maryam took off her veil, revealing that her jaw was without flesh and was only bare bone. Maryam spoke, but without moving the fleshless jaw-bone. “You want to know our superpowers. Well, I guess it’s alright. First, I’m psychic. A telepath and…” From the folds of her robes, she drew out a handgun, aimed it at her hand, and fired. The bullet bounced off her skin. “Have levels of invulnerability.” She pointed with the gun to her fleshless jawbone. “I don’t wear this veil for religious reasons.”
Yi began to smile brightly and slowly started transforming into metal. His arms folded into his skin, until he was fully encased as a huge metal coil. The coil turned back into Yi. He laughed, “I can change into a giant, animated coil.”
Ms. Blank stopped dancing and wiggling. She became very calm, focusing on Maryam’s hand. The hand suddenly caught on fire and Maryam quickly blew it out. Being invulnerable, the hand was unscathed.
Ms. Black smiled, “I can conjure up fire but only when I’m calm. The thing is…” She started suddenly, violently, dancing again. “It soon becomes uncontrollable, so I have to always be in a state of high feeling or emotion.”
“Ah, I see, that’s why you’re constantly jumping and moving around. Must be fun,” said Jim.
“Fun!?” Ms Blank shouted, leaping in a single bound over Yi and the kids on the sofa and picking up Jim by the coat. She was in the highest pitches of fury and frenzy, “You think I enjoy this?! Always having to make a big deal out of everything! To have to leap with joy every time you get out of bed?! To have to be in the greatest of romantic passion about someone who you just have a little crush on?! To have a paper cut become one of the most unbearable tragedies?! Never to relax?!” Ms. Black stopped shaking in fury a tiny bit, “Peaceful.” Her muscles rested a little, “Indifferent.” She became less angry, “In perfect serenity.” Her body suddenly caught on fire! Yet it burned out when she yelled, “That’s something I can never have!!!”
Burroughs placed his hand on her shoulder, “Alright, Ms. Blank, calm down.”
“Calm down?! Calm down?! That’s the one thing I should never do!”
Burroughs sighed, “You know what I mean, don’t take it out on Mr. Jim here.”
Ms. Blank dropped Jim back on the chair.
Jim checked himself for burns and asked, “And your superpowers, Ray Burroughs?”
“Super strength.”
“Super strength?”
“Super strength.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Red cut into the flow, stating, “That’s kind of lame.”
Burroughs smiled and shrugged, “It’s lame, but practical.”
JIm scanned the room, looking upon every one of the superpowered people one by one. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “And what are you guys exactly going to team up for?”
Yi laughed, “But Jim, you haven’t told us your superpower yet.”
Maryam, who had put back on her veil, held up her hand at Yi, explaining, “I think he would like to keep that to himself. I’ll tell you about it afterwards. I found your file while going through the stacks and took an interest in you, Jim. To answer your question, Jim, come with me.”
Maryam stood up and walked to the back of the room, to the back exit of the store. Jim, as well as everyone else, followed. She opened the door, “You may have heard about this,” said Maryam.
Outside the door, rows upon rows of Canadian-Japanese Union soldiers marched through the street. On one edge of the street was Ray’s bookstore, in the building complex, on the other was a gigantic factory. The battalions of the army cut striking figures between such buildings. They marched line after line, through the great gate of the city where Jim had entered out of the desert waste. The colossal samurai comprised of many creatures, wolf, parrot, squid, and Canadian looked over the troops, swaying her head as they marched along. She yawned when a supply wagon came by, drawn by mutated dog-horses.
“You know about the rumor of the American army marching across the wastes to challenge the western states, uniting the USA from coast to coast once more? It is not a rumor. The army is marching out today,” explained Maryam.
Yi came in, remarking, “The stupid general thinks he can beat the entire invasion outside the town’s walls!”
Ms. Blank called up, yelping, “So that’s why we’re creating a team.”
Burroughs cut her off before the army heard her, adding, “To make sure the town of Bata Taun has a second line of defense.”
Jim looked at them, then at Mic and Red. They had the same facial expression as Jim. Jim said, “You really think the invading America could actually defeat that beast?” pointing to the gigantic, hybrid samurai.
Maryam sighed, “Reports say that the attackers have a renegade samurai like that on their side. The battle is…uncertain.”
Burroughs spoke, “Our superpowers will make us an army unto ourselves.”
Maryam asked, “Will you join us Jim?”
Jim looked at all of them for a long time, then said, “You’re idiots. We should be ashamed of ourselves. Our powers are the thing which made the world how it is. People like you are the cause for the fallout. Read the history. We can’t use this power. It does nothing good. Nothing good. You can’t use it for anything. I’ve seen people who’ve tried.
It didn’t turn out pretty. I’m sorry, but I can’t be a part of this team. It won’t amount to anything, or if it does, it’ll only make things worse.”
All of them were dumbfounded. They stood speechless. Ms Blank was lucky that her shock was strong, because if it hadn’t been, she would have burst into flames.
Jim turned down to talk to his kids, “Come on Red, Mic, we’re going home.”
Red and Mic were sad looking but obeyed, moving out of the room to leave by the front. Jim was accosted by Yi, Burroughs, and Ms Blank to reconsider, to think about what he was saying, and, most of all, to stay.
Yet Jim simply moved on. He walked out of the backroom, through the small bookshelves and opened the door for the two kids. Maryam ran up to catch him and stopped right next to him.
“Jim!” she cried, “You are wrong. Yes, bad things have happened to and by people like us. But you have to be proud of what you are and how you can help the world with all of your abilities and being. At least think about joining us!”
Jim held the door, looked down, then back up at Maryam. “Maybe…I’ll, I’ll think about it.” and left.
At the end of the day. At Jim’s apartment.
Jim looked out of the door, out at the town’s wall trying to see, to hear, to smell, to feel the great battle between two powerful forces out there. Mic came out and stood beside him, leaning against the doorway. Jim sighed, then after a couple of moments, asked, “Mic, what do you think I should do?”
“I don’t know. You’re the wisest of us,” replied Mic. “All I know is that this place will get very mean if the army breaks through the walls and I also don’t want to hide, but I want you to be happy, too, Dad.”
Jim thought. He looked at his adopted son, then stood up, “I’m going out. Tell your brother.” and he left.
Three
The battle did not end well for either side, but the Canadian-Japanese Union army lost. Quickly, by next dawn the American army was marching on to storm the town. There were no soldiers left to man the walls, only a tiny town militia. The militia thought it hopeless. They asked to surrender, but the messenger was met with no mercy; an answer to the plea, with that, the game was set. It was winner take all between the army of America and the town of Bata Taun. By the next day rows on rows of tents of the American camp lay on Bata Taun’s doorstep. The siege began at dawn.
Black Power- The Superhero Anthology Page 5
