Blackshade was uninterested in the wild claims of self-important internet warriors. He was more worried about what the protest was shaping up to become. Religious leaders from many different groups had vowed to be at the protest with as many of their followers as they could muster. Christians, Jews, Christians, Scientologists, Atheists, Satanists, Hindus, Islam, Neopaganism, Wiccans, Pastafarianism, as well as many other religious groups were scheduled to attend, as well as many special interest groups, and internet icons. All had their agendas to push during the protest, and all of them were intent on being the loudest voice in the crowd. The fact that they were going to protest their anti or pro-Omega stance wasn’t what bothered Blackshade. The fact that people wanted to protest didn’t bother anyone in the Unification Foundation. Citizens of Candaerica were always allowed to peacefully protest any cause or subject that they chose. It was a right that had carried over from the American constitution when the countries combined, and it was one of the main reasons people of both nations had been so agreeable with the merger. As far as Blackshade was concerned, the right to protest was one of the smartest things the founding fathers of America’s constitution had written into the document. It allowed the common citizens to unite and give voice to their group concerns. It allowed them to rise up, without revolting, and tell their leaders what their grievances were. It gave them the feeling that when they came together as a group, they could accomplish big things and created a patriotic bond between members of the protest. It was a wonderful tool regular citizens could use to vent their frustrations and have a cathartic release that would allow them to return to their regular lives shortly after. Most of all though, it was also a wonderful method of control.
It was so rare that protesting actually accomplished anything, that when it did, the event became a national holiday. Martin Luther King Jr’s peaceful protests accomplished a lot, but only because of his leadership and dedication to his cause, did it finally influence anyone in power. The people that had protested the merger of America and Canada never had a chance of success. The people in power at the time had their hearts and minds set on the merger, and short of a revolution, nothing was going to stop it. It was just a matter of time to convince a large enough majority of each country’s citizens, through propaganda, celebrity endorsements, and intuitive advertising, to vote the way they wanted them to. It was a practice the American government had perfected over the decades and had become incredibly skilled at by the time the merger became a possibility.
So, like the protests that took place during the merger, the coming protests of the Omegas had about the same chance of actually influencing the government. Because of this, no one in power was worried about a policy change. What everyone was worried about was so many different religious groups congregating in the same location at the same time, while passionately spewing their rhetoric. Throw in a few niche groups looking to make a name for themselves and a smattering of internet glory hounds, and it was a recipe for disaster. The potential powder keg had everyone on edge, not to mention that everyone working inside the Foundation knew about the traitors at the Roswell camp. Everyone was watching their neighbor nervously, which caused about a dozen anonymous reports to be called in daily, accusing someone inside the Foundation of being a traitor. Blackshade and Soearth had been exempt from the reports, which had all been proven false so far, but they both knew that it was only a matter of time before the people inside the Foundation were at each other’s throats. Senate and congress leaders were pulling their party sides away from each other, and old grudges were being dredged up from the past in order to justify their distrust. In Blackshade’s opinion, it was all getting a little ridiculous. It was also making getting any work done a very slow process. The level of paranoia had gotten so bad, that one group working with another required copious amounts of proof and legal documents, holding one side accountable should the information be false, and the other side completely innocent. As far as Blackshade was concerned, he and Soearth were on their own.
As it was, Blackshade felt they were as prepared for the protests as they possibly could be. Extra military guards were called in to quell any violence. New drones were shipped into the Foundation and were already encircling the building. The Chaos Algorithm was updated, in order to make the pattern even more difficult to detect, and the entirety of the police force was on call throughout the city to offer counseling and safe spaces for anyone needing a time out. Internet ads and propaganda condemning violence during the protest were in circulation, and those that had connections with the religious leaders and internet icons were pulling those strings in order to push the non-violent agenda. By the time the day came, everyone knew that violence would not be tolerated. It wasn’t an ironclad guarantee that there wouldn’t be violence, but it was as good as it was going to get.
On the day of the protest, Blackshade was very nervous. He knew it was just the jitters, but he also knew he was a little twitchy due to what happened in Roswell on the day of the resurrection. He had debated donning his armor and 2057, but decided against it. He wanted to be out there, amongst the protesters, answering questions and quelling fears about the Omegas. If he was in his armor and had his weapon at his side, it would make him less approachable, and might even heighten the animosity toward the Omegas. Instead, he decided to wear a pair of shorts, an Army Air Corp t-shirt, and the robe the Omegas had given him. As he swung the robe abound his shoulders, the alien material conformed itself to his body and coated him in its fabric. He couldn’t help but smile as the material wrapped around his feet, almost completely cocooning him inside of it. Only his head was left exposed, and even that he could cover with the hood if he wished. For the time being, he left it down. He wanted everyone to be able to see him, and he felt that by doing so, it made him more approachable.
The protestors had been arriving the past twenty hours or so, according to his Intel and had busied themselves arranging their predesignated protesting zones. Picket signs, t-shirts with clever slogans and hashtags brightly emblazoned on them were their uniform of the day. Big goofy hats, and massive symbols depicting their religion adorned most of their attire. Blackshade had watched them on his displays through the feeds the voyeur drones were providing. The sun hadn’t come up yet, and there must have been twenty thousand people surrounding the Foundation. All traffic had to be re-routed around the area, and the local police were already patrolling amongst the protestors, talking with anyone that would interact with them. So far, there had been minimal interaction between the various groups, and all of it friendly and non-violent. It was a good sign, but it was still very early yet. The same ominous feeling Blackshade had on the day of the resurrection settled over him and did nothing to improve his mood. He offered a prayer to any of the gods in attendance, that they would keep their followers peaceful today. He wasn’t sure if any of them even existed, or would listen to someone like him if they did, but he figured it was worth a shot. As he watched the protestors set up their podiums for grand speeches planned later in the day, he heard Soearth approach.
“Are you still planning to go out there? To talk with them? Do you really think they’ll listen to you, Bill?” Soearth asked him skeptically.
Blackshade frowned, but didn’t take his eyes off the displays. They had had this argument a few times already, ever since he told his friend of his intentions. Needless to say, Soearth did not think it was a good plan. “Yes, Soearth, you know I do. I think if anyone can get through to them, it’s the Ambassador to the Omegas.” he answered distractedly, he was determined to not get angry about this.
Soearth didn’t relent, “Your intentions are noble, I’ll grant you that, but ultimately pointless.” Soearth told him for the fiftieth time, “These are religious people. Some delusionally so. Bill, they believe in an invisible, omnipotent creature that lets kids die of cancer, horrible dictators to enslave and slaughter their own people, and parents to abuse and sexually exploit their own children. Then try to convince everyone that this s
ame God that allows all of this to happen actually cares and loves everyone. These are not intelligent people, Bill. They’re sheep, Denisovans, and logical debate is not their strong suit.”
Blackshade nodded, as he continued to watch the displays, “Yes, I know. They’re also led by people that have a legal record long enough for them to run for congress, and the moral compass of a honey badger. I know all of this, but as I’ve told you, I need to try. As the Ambassador to the Omegas, it’s my job to try. If I can only reach a few of them, it’ll be worth it. Logical or not, if I can get just a few of them to question their negative opinion of the Omegas, it’ll be worth the risk.”
Soearth shook his head, “Then at least take your weapon with you. If not your gun, then a knife, hell I’ll go get you some coma-tabs if that’s what it takes, just don’t go out there unarmed. You’re underestimating the risk you’re taking and the potential evil of the religious loons!”
Blackshade’s frown deepened. He knew Soearth had a low opinion of religious groups. He was an atheist and had a good reason to be one. His sister had been a religious woman since before he had been born. Soearth had told him the story about how he watched first hand, as the religious group used and abused her all in the name of the god that they worshipped. In the end, the leaders of her particular religion were arrested on the charge of human trafficking and sex trade. During the highly publicized trial, one of the religious leaders gave a command for his flock to commit suicide. It was a veiled command, hidden in a message he gave during an interview. Hundreds of young girls, boys, and non-binaries heard the command and followed it obediently. Soearth’s sister had been one of the first ones to follow the order, slitting her wrists in her bedroom moments after watching the interview. Soearth had been the one to find her body, and had given up on gods and religion ever since. He had also developed a healthy hatred for anyone that claimed to be a holy person, and for such an intelligent and peace loving man, he didn’t try to hide it. So Blackshade could understand why he was having so much trouble separating duty and personal beliefs in this situation. That didn’t stop Blackshade from being irritated with having to have this same argument yet again.
“We’ve been over that too. You know I won’t bring a weapon with me. These people can’t see me as a threat, or worse, be afraid of me.” Blackshade explained to him with wavering patience, “If I have my armor on, they will see it as me being afraid to be around them. They will be less likely to engage with me in an open and friendly manner, and the presence of the Ambassador for the Omegas in armor might be the spark that ignites a riot. If I have my weapon on me, they could find it intimidating and will shut down or panic at the sight of it. Like you’ve said, some of these people are weak-minded Denisovans that will shrink away from anything they’re told to be afraid of. Their leaders will use the fact that I’m armed or armored to distract and argue against me. I can’t give them that fodder. If I’m to have any chance to convince these people that the Omegas are good for humanity, I have to appear at ease around them.”
Soearth sighed and lowered his head, “You don’t know how closed-minded these people are, Bill. They don’t listen. They don’t think like you and I. They just echo what their leaders tell them, even if they don’t understand a word of it. Usually because they don’t understand it. It’s how many of them validate their existence!” he told him, his voice full of disgust as he continued, “Oh! God has a plan for me’ or, ‘God works in mysterious ways!’ or, ‘God knows what he’s doing!’” he told him, making air quotes, “They are not rational people! They’re sheep, desperate to believe in something greater than themselves, and that the greater being has actually taken an interest in them!”
Blackshade laughed at his friend’s mocking tone, “Well, I hope that you’re right. Because a stupid person will be a lot easier to convince than a smart and calculating one.” he told him, trying to lighten the mood, “And if they’re really looking for something greater than themselves to believe in, and that has taken an active interest in them, then they don’t have to look any further than the Omegas. I’ll definitely make that point during my interactions with the protestors.”
He had hoped that would end the argument, but he could tell by the look on Soearth’s face that he still hadn’t convinced the man. He sighed, “Listen, Soearth, after what the Omegas did to my body, what can they really do to me? Small arms fire was ineffectual for the most part, so their protesting signs or small knives will have no effect. And I’m not so weak that I can’t defend myself if I need to, and I’ll hardly be alone. The drones will be a whisper away, and if they detect any violent activity, they’ll swoop in and put everyone to sleep with coma-tabs before they can so much as take two steps. There’s nothing to worry about; it’s going to be OK.”
It was Soearth’s turn to frown. The words, ‘Stubborn fool’ raced across his forehead. Blackshade had to swallow a chuckle when he saw it. He thought that Soearth and Zahera would get along just fine if they ever met. They both seemed to think he was a child that needed their protection. Blackshade held up a hand before Soearth could reply, “Listen, I know you’re worried, so I had the tech guys do me a favor.” he told him, bringing up an input screen. The table that the inputs had been installed on was waist high, consisted of two joysticks, a heads-up display, and numerous buttons to execute different commands. The input board was directly connected to a set of drones that surrounded the Foundation. “I was able to get about twenty of the drones linked to this console. You’ll be able to monitor everything from here, and if anything happens, you’ll have almost two-dozen drones at your command to help me subdue the protestors. You’ll be my guardian angel, irony intended.” he explained.
Soearth looked surprised as he examined the control panel, “When did you do this?” he asked. The word, ‘Wow’ now emblazoned on his forehead.
“A few days ago, after our first argument on the subject. I figured you would be difficult on the day of the protest, and it turns out I was right. I thought this would help alleviate your concerns.” he told his friend with a smile.
Soearth sat down at the table and tried out the controls. After a few practice runs and some experimenting with the controls, a small smile appeared on Soearth’s face. The words, ‘This is impressive’ ran across his forehead, letting Blackshade know his friend would be more comfortable with the situation now. He would be too, now that he thought about it. He would be a bold faced liar if he said he wasn’t a ball of nerves right now, but if there was one thing being a Commander had taught him, it was that you never let your troops, or your friends, see that you’re afraid. In situations like this, people like Soearth drew strength and courage from strong examples, and it was a role he enjoyed performing, even if he did feel like he might puke at any moment. Soearth was enthralled with the controls, so Blackshade made his way toward the exit. He hit the input to summon a transference cube and waited.
“Bill. Be careful out there. Those people, just… don’t turn your back on them, ok? They’re not rational.” Soearth told him from the table.
A tone indicated that the transference cube had arrived. “Don’t worry, Soearth. I’ll be fine.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
As Blackshade walked outside, he was immediately bombarded by booing and chants of, “TRAITOR” and “MURDERER”. There were digital pictures being held up of him in Roswell, shooting the extremists that had attacked them. The pictures were in super high definition, and his face had been obviously tampered with to make him look like a snarling devil. If it wasn’t for the context, he thought it would have been a really impressive depiction of him. Since it was being used to call him a murderer however, he was not impressed. The group of people that were waving the pictures at him, screaming threats, and vowing righteous vengeance were only about a dozen or so strong. They had the look of over-privileged college kids, and he noticed the only thing keeping them from
attacking him were a few thin red ropes that marked off the “Do Not Cross” boundary. No guards, or drones were present to stop them in that particular location. He knew exactly what he was dealing with once he noticed that; Internet Warriors. As he approached them, it took all he had to swallow his disgust and not immediately lash out at them. Much as he expected, when he approached them, their screaming and threats stopped and half of them slunk away; two of them actually ran. By the time he had walked the forty yards to their location, the dozen had become three. One of them was so petrified, the only reason he hadn’t run was because he was frozen in terror. Blackshade decided to focus on the two remaining young men. They were both clearly scared, the man to his right was looking away and seemed to be struggling with what he should do. On his forehead, Blackshade could see the words, ‘Run’ and then ‘Make dad proud’. Blackshade could tell that the guy was barely an adult now that he got a closer look at him. He guessed he was eighteen years old with blotchy brown skin, a nose and eyebrow piercing, and half of his head shaved down to the scalp, with the other half of his hair long and flowing over his right eye. It looked unnaturally straight, and Blackshade recalled one of his Air Soldiers telling him that the kids ironed their hair to make it look like that. It was fashionable, or something. Blackshade thought it made the guy look like a simpering fool. His clothes were well made and looked almost new. The pants he wore were designer and must have cost a few hundred credits. Judging by the young man’s appearance, he didn’t have a job, so Blackshade assumed his parents or guardians were paying his bills, which was common for young, entitled college students. The man to his left was similarly dressed but far better muscled than his cohort. He wore a flat billed, blue and gold cap that had green sequins outlining it. A light electrical current flowed along the sequins that created a small electrical snapping sounds every once in a while. The hat had “Bad-azz” written in Old English across the front, and the letters were also outlined with the electricity. This young man had olive skin that momentarily reminded him of Zahera, but his eyes were blue and slanted, giving away his Asian heritage. His shirt had more Old English writing on it that announced he was part of some nonsense fraternity, leading Blackshade to believe he was dealing with a meat-head, and his crony. Inwardly, he sighed, and he put on his most congenial smile and engaged the two Denisovans.
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