by Marc Mulero
Sabin folded his arms and looked at Eugene with a smile. “No problem, boss,” Sabin said.
“Cherris,” Blague locked eyes, “I need you to inform the people of what I just explained. More details will come once I feel we are more secure.”
“Of course,” Cherris said, “Just one question though. How did you stumble upon all of this knowledge?”
Blague paused for a moment before answering, “My past is colorful, as I’m sure you’ve realized. But that is definitely a story for another day.”
Chapter 4
Lito and Jeck sat in one of the lavish hotel-like rooms within the mansion. The room was empty, except for two chairs in opposite corners, Lito’s gadgets, and Jeck’s shackles. Lito worked on his remote explosive traps that were to be placed on the pathway to the mansion, starting at the breach point. He had goggles on that served as both magnifiers and protection against the sparks from welding flames. He bobbed his head to music, but he didn’t have headphones on. His black and green mohawk bounced with him. Jeck stared at Lito very curiously.
♫ Keep staring at me, yeah yeah, keep staring at me… and I’m… gonna… kill ‘em kill ‘em. Keep staring at me… and I’m gonna kill ‘em kill ‘em♫.
After about one hour of Lito working in his own world and Jeck staring, Jeck finally broke the silence.
“Lito is it?” Jeck sneered. Lito’s head stopped bobbing. “This may end badly for your group. The Hiezers do not forgive nor do they take lightly attempted takeovers,” Jeck said.
Lito put down his contraption, lifted his goggles, stood up, and lifted his chair above his head with one lean arm. He walked over to Jeck’s corner and slammed the chair down with its back facing Jeck. He plopped down, folded his arms on the base of the chair, and stared. Jeck looked somewhat horrified. Lito had tanned skin, a shaved face, and a short mohawk. Although those traits reflected his character, it was his eyes that startled newcomers. His eyes were bright purple and one of his pupils was permanently dilated; it was quite a jarring characteristic.
“Ya know, Jeck, I’ve dealt with the Hiezers before, where I came from.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jeck antagonized, “Where’s that?”
“Bulchevin,” Lito said with his eyes wide in his strong accent.
Bulchevin was an exiled continent that split off from the country of Brazil after the Global Quake; this added to Lito’s strange character as he didn’t speak a work of Portuguese.
“Hah,” Jeck yacked, “is that supposed to frighten me? I’ve visited the exiled continent that equates to half of Brazil. It’s no more or less scummy than Senation.”
“Maybe on the surface,” Lito said, while he pulled Jeck by his hairline to meet his purple eyes. “I’ve worked in the mines for years at a time, navigating the bright Cryos-lit areas and pitch black rows, with an eye patch on, searching for your precious Ayelan. I must say, Mr. Jeck Stone, I would still be doing that happily if one of your guards hadn’t murdered my familia off of a hunch.”
Jeck tried to remain calm. “Lito, you know this world isn’t as stable as it once was. Though the class system is strict, we do not condone murder. What happened to your family is guard brutality, an issue the Hiezers are working to eliminate.”
“Too late, cabron,” Lito swiped a jagged elbow to Jeck’s temple.
Jeck was dazed, trying to maintain his focus. “You know, Lito, violence only leads to more violence. Are you going to contribute to an endless cycle? Is that your purpose now?” Jeck said while holding his head.
“Maybe I wouldn’t have gone down this path if my mother and brother weren’t tased, dragged off to your laboratories, and killed by the guards. Those orders came from high up. No way it was guard brutality. For all I know, it mighta been you who gave the order.” Lito pulled Jeck up off his seat by his robe’s collar.
“I’m surprised your leader would select such a hothead for a commander,” Jeck struggled to say as the grip was slightly choking him.
Lito smiled, “You should see our leader’s temper, makes me look like a tame pequena bunny.”
“If that’s so, I shouldn’t be worried. Your little group has no hope,” Jeck said with malice in his voice.
Lito winked and kicked Jeck’s chair back, “Now you can sit on the floor for the next few hours.”
Jeck rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say, boss.”
Lito took his chair back to his corner of the room, picked up his contraption, and began bobbing his head again.
Briggs inspected his sling as he perused the second floor in search for Blague's room, nearly matching the height of each door he passed. As he approached the last room in the corner, he noticed that the door was left slightly open. Briggs took a moment to notice the massive crowd a floor below him, creating the commotion of a small stadium as they settled. He turned back and awkwardly pushed the door open with his good arm, not being used to leading with his left. He saw Blague sitting Indian style on top of a sleek, black marble desk. His muscular arms were folded and his green eyes pierced right through Briggs, almost as if he were in a trance. Briggs waved his good arm to see if he could snap Blague out of it. Blague shook his head, his pushed-back hair followed on a second delay.
"Hi Briggs," Blague said holding his head with one hand. Briggs saluted by pounding his chest once. "Can you believe this?" Blague pointed to the gold swiveled wall with his knife. "I believe the idea of status is powerful, but it also serves as a slap in the face for those so far below even the thought of it."
"I agree with you, but the Sin followers are settling in just fine, as if they won the lottery. I know your focus is on the Hiezer's despicable regime, but take a look at the good you did toda-"
"We, Briggs," Blague interrupted, "The good we did today.” Blague stood up and put one hand on Briggs’ good shoulder. “I would be nothing if not for the strong group that we're developing."
"Thanks boss, glad to be a part of the team. My boy is getting anxious. Especially after seeing me wounded. He has dreams of fighting with us." Briggs paused for a few seconds, with worry expressed in his features. "I'm proud, Blague, but fearful of when that day might come."
"Haha," Blague laughed, "he's not even a teenager yet. If we're lucky, we have many years to watch him grow first." Briggs looked down and scratched his head, still worried. Blague punched his good arm, causing Briggs to stumble half a step and look up with confusion. "That thing is a rock. How did a measly little bullet pierce it?"
Briggs laughed, "I feel like a little bitch right now. The doc said I have to sit with the civilians for a month until the wound heals."
"You're a beast. I give it a week before you're on the front lines with me again," Blague said. He looked at his silver watch with a large blue face. "Ok, Briggs, I have ten minutes before I check in with Sabin and Eugene for a rotation update. Do you have the status update regarding Senation's reaction?"
"Yes," Briggs’ face turned serious. "Let me start by saying one of our contacts went dark. I don't think he was killed, because he went dark right before we blew the wreckage. It seems too coincidental. My hunch is that we were infiltrated."
"That's troubling," Blague said while thinking about the next course of action. "I'm going to send Lesh to track the person down. Which of the contacts went dark?"
"Nemura," Briggs said. "That snake,"
Blague looked down and shook his head. "I swear that evil looking smile of his was almost too obvious." Blague continued looking at the floor, "My feeling is that there's more to his crossover than we know right now. I'll have Lesh get to the bottom of this, even if torture is necessary. Nemura singlehandedly disrupted the integrity of our group. The civilians no longer feel safe. And it will probably take far too long to recover such a delicacy." Blague paced back and forth, spewing all of his thoughts. "Ok, continue with the report."
"The contacts are beginning to rally supporters, civilians and fighters alike. They're not having an easy time though. Senation seems to be divided since the explosi
on," Briggs responded.
"Of course," Blague said as he hoisted himself back on top of the desk and resumed his seated position. "Senation isn't starved, so the thought that life could get worse is still a viable fear. The Sins as a whole still have something to lose. It's somewhat brilliant planning on the Hiezers’ part. It has historically kept uprisings miniscule,” Blague said as he recalled the Hiezer’s swift silencing of past rebellions. “They generally fizzle out within weeks. Our advantage lies with former professionals and educated citizens that existed at higher social ranks prior to being shipped into exile. Those people know that the world was never fair and that there's a difference between unfair and crippled," he concluded, staring intensely at Briggs.
Briggs nodded without hesitation, "Agreed. So how can we provide safe passage to the incoming followers?"
"Cautiously, in small orderly groups," Blague said as he continued plotting. "We also have to screen any newcomers and keep them temporarily divided from our existing group."
"By all means, my men and I will work to screen as quickly as possible. I expect the contacts to start rolling past the breach within a few days. We have a lot of work to do," Briggs said.
Blague nodded, "Thanks for your report. We'll catch up soon. Please feel free to take this room for you and your son. I'll be transferring one floor up, closer to Jeck."
Briggs saluted once again. Blague hopped off the desk, sheathed his knife, and walked out of the room.
Sabin planted himself on a ledge sitting atop the roof of the mansion that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. He stroked Mars’ thick black and grey coat as the wind blew their hair and fur back. Fighters were patrolling the surrounding areas from the roof.
Despite all the filth behind us in Senation, this view is quite unbelievable. Receiving the call from Blague is what I truly needed. Life as a Templos was growing bland. My purpose in this world couldn’t be to supply Hiezer guards with specialty food from my hunting expeditions. Sitting like a lame duck for all those years. The monotony of following orders, thinking that it could be worse. What did I let seep into my brain? How could I have grown so soft and narrow-minded? I mean yeah, I manage somehow to always find some fun along the way, but at least I have a purpose now: to fight with an old friend for a just cause. Being in the lower tiers of social class becomes painstakingly rigid over time. Once the fear subsides, that becomes clear. I'm grateful for all Blague did for me in his previous life and all he will do in this one.
Just as Sabin turned to Mars to pet him, Mars' ears became alert. Sabin turned back to look at the ocean. He saw a cargo ship come into sight. That's when it hit him.
If we were to be attacked, it would be by boat through this route.
"Sabin," Blague called out, "where's Eu?"
"He passed out in his room on floor two," Sabin said as he pet his wolf.
"That's not like him," Blague said while walking up to Sabin.
"He gave me his report ten minutes ago. All is clear on all angles. Although, something just hit me, I just envisioned an attack by boat, through that cargo route," Sabin pointed. "As sad as it makes me to suggest this, maybe we should have Lito trap the shorefront side as well."
Blague stared for a moment, "That's an excellent idea. Let's even take it a step further and set up one scout on the far end of the rocks to get a jump on any suspicious ships. Assign three fighters to rotate shifts."
"Alright, Blague," Sabin said as the wind blew his half cape, "will do."
Blague nodded and walked off. Sabin turned back to soak in the view while petting Mars.
"You’re always so pessimistic," a woman said as she smiled and mussed Eugene's dirty blonde hair.
"Jen," Eugene sighed, "can you please take at least one thing seriously? If we're not careful, we’re going to be shipped off."
Strands of Jen's long blonde hair fell over her face. Her smile was contagious and whenever she did decide to shoot one off, her eyes became squinted. Eugene loved that about her. Her genuine character was infatuating. Eugene laid back on his comfortable tan colored couch and put his hands behind his head.
Jen leaned over and gave him a kiss. She then got up and headed towards the door. “See you later, babe,” Jen said in an upbeat tone. Before closing the door behind her, she looked back to Eugene, “They have no choice but to recognize that the job I want to do will benefit them much more than the job they want me to do.” Eugene stared at her with a look of worry and sighed. She decided to give him a big smile before she stepped out.
Eugene rubbed his brow and looked down. A flash of lightning whizzed by his face and startled him. “What the hell was that?”
He looked up, shocked at what he thought he just saw. In the blink of an eye, a powerful gust of wind slapped him across the face. All of a sudden he was no longer indoors. The faint sound of screaming echoed all around him. Through the muffled noise, he heard Jen screaming as if she was miles behind him. He turned around to see Jen grasping desperately onto his arm.
Her eyes welled up with tears. “I'm sorry, babe,” she said, defeated and distraught, “You were right, I should have listened to you.”
A Hiezer guard marched over toward them. “Get back on line immediately,” the guard said in a militant tone, directing his attention to Jen.
Eugene, horrified, quickly analyzed his surroundings. He felt the tenseness of this situation as he gazed upon a long, jumbled line of people, all of whom displayed a whirl of varying negative emotions. Some were screaming, some crying, some were silent and just stared blankly in front of them. The chaos made the situation difficult for the Hiezer guards as they struggled to maintain order. Eugene felt the anxiety funneling through him as he shifted his gaze to the end of the line, where his wandering eyes focused on three large machines blocking the entrance to a ship. Pipes on the machines had a neon blue liquid flowing through them. He witnessed a guard pull the next person on line, who was lethargic. The guard grabbed her arm and stuffed it under the machine as an extension of steaming hot metal pressed down upon her. Tears ran down her face as her skin sizzled, but she didn't let out a sound. The guard roughly pulled her arm out and tossed her ahead, where she was assigned her new name and then escorted to the ship. Her new, forced identity was now showcased by the glowing blue mark that branded her arm.
Eugene turned back to the guard directing his attention to Jen, his look intensifying. The guard began advancing with a pistol drawn, his patience wearing thin from herding the soon-to-be exiled citizens. Eugene put himself in between the two of them.
“Take me instead,” Eugene said as he puffed his chest out to try and stop the guard from advancing.
Jen cried louder, “No, Eugene, you can't!” trembling with fear.
The guard was eye level with Eugene, but he was looking at him through a black mask, revealing no identity. The guard raised his voice, “Stand down, give me…” the guard looked down at his device, “Jennifer Parinto, immediately.”
Eugene repeated himself calmly, but sternly, “Take me instead.”
The guard raised his pistol and swung it towards Eugene's face. He caught the swing with one hand and swung a fist with the other. The guard toppled over. Two others noticed the altercation and intervened.
“Assault of a guard is a serious crime. You're both going on the line,” the guard said in a frustrated tone as he adjusted his mask.
Eugene was breathing heavily, thoughts of what to do next rushed into is head, but he knew he was cornered and done with. He looked up, a splash of searing fire latched onto his face, burning his skin. He swung his head frantically as he felt the temperature rapidly rise. He let out a scream, feeling his eyes melting from his sockets. He shook his head, causing the flame to suddenly cool.
Eugene felt the touch of skin, he opened his eyes and looked to his left. Jen was holding his hand tightly, with a look of fear on her face. The machine was directly in front of Eugene’s face now. The guard pulled Jen by her arm. Eugene reached for her but his arms were sudden
ly shackled. He attempted to scream, but no words came out. The guard tossed Jen to the next guard, her arm glowing with the same stamped tattoo as the others.
“Your assigned name is Asura,” the guard read from his device.
Eugene felt nothing as they stamped him.
“Considering your crime happened moments ago, headquarters allowed you to keep your first name so they didn't have to alter the system, which had already been set today. Your last name, however, is now purged. If you so much as introduce yourself with it, you will be punished. Understood?” the guard dictated as he pushed Eugene forward forcefully.
Eugene’s furiously twitching arms made his metal shackles ring, as he resisted further with every step. The ship in front of him became blurry. He froze when he realized a snake was crawling up his shoulder and onto his face. His surroundings went dark, except for the hissing snake twisting its body, readying to bite him between the eyes. Its thin fangs were exposed and its pink mouth was visible. Eugene felt the panic fill his chest as his breath shortened.
His vision suddenly began to clear and the snake faded out of existence. He quickly realized he was on the inside of the boat. Jen was still next to him, holding on for her dear life. The other prisoners were rioting; chaos ensued all around them. A crazed prisoner grabbed for Jen's face with a lustful glare. Eugene turned around and whipped his arm, landing a forceful right hook. Eugene wasn't overly muscular, but he packed a strong punch. The deranged exile flew backward, but quickly recovered and ran back toward Jen, trying to take advantage of the chaos. A huge guard came between them and took them both by the arms and began carrying them off.
“Jen!” Eugene shouted.
Another guard smashed Eugene in the jaw. The guard’s device was blinking red, showing Jen's previous and new name. “This Sin is Asura. Part of the reason for this trip to Senation is for you to learn how to obey authority.”