The Never Army

by Hodges, T. Ellery

  Oddly, Hayden had looked as surprised as they were, but after a moment a light bulb of understanding seem to come on. “Oh . . . ohhh! Yes! Yes, we have!”

  He turned to give Jonathan what could only be described as a shit eating grin.

  Jonathan, seeming to have connected some dots, slowly closed his eyes and sighed. “Ahhh . . . hell.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  “WELL, DO WE get to see these things or what?” Leah asked.

  “I agree, we should do that. Mr. Clean, you want to pull up the latest designs please?” Hayden said, still smiling at Jonathan, who refused to make eye contact with the man.

  The monitor brought up a three-dimensional schematic. It rotated slowly to allow viewers to see from every angle.

  “Oh,” Paige said. “That . . . that looks like a . . . a . . .”

  “A superhero costume,” Jonathan interjected, bitterly. “It looks like a damn superhero costume.”

  Hayden’s enthusiasm was hard to ignore as everyone gazed up at his creation for the first time. Eventually, he began to pick up on the awkward—praise-less—silence. He cleared his throat. “It’s not just an elegant design. We incorporated far more armor into the suits than any strap-on tactical gear could have offered. Also, it’s designed so that there’s less obstruction to movement,” Hayden said. “Your basic batman suit minus the cape. Instead of a cowl, I swapped in full head gear that integrates the HUD visors we’ve already been developing.”

  “Why does this look so familiar,” Collin said. “Did you . . . did you rip off the Snake Eyes outfit from G.I. Joe?”

  Hayden started to shake his head, then looked up at the rotating design once again, and frowned. “Oh, I suppose it may have had some unconscious creative influence.”

  “Derivative,” Collin whispered.

  “We were being as utilitarian as possible. But there are different designs for each individual in our forces. I took all of Jonathan’s input into account.”

  “Jonathan’s input?” Heyer asked. “You requested this?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “That is not even a remotely accurate description of how this happened.”

  “Well, it’s not completely utilitarian. Unless these designs across the chest and back serve a purpose,” Paige said, pointing to the only part of the full body suit that wasn’t black. Intersecting white lines in the design of the various implants. The one on screen was a match for the most common male implant. Which looked a lot like Jonathan’s but lacked the line that crossed his chest horizontally. Yet it didn’t appear to be a generic fit; it looked as though it were meant for a man twice the size of anyone in the room.

  “This prototype is fitted to Beo. He likes his hammers; the weapon harness is customized to make it less cumbersome and balance the weight when he is on the move. Also incorporates the heavier one-sided shoulder plate,” Hayden said.

  “Hayden, you . . . you sound like a runway announcer,” Paige said.

  A moment later a much smaller design appeared. “Mito prefers his katars. Turned out he was also a dead shot with throwing blades, but he had no use for the skill against the Ferox until Mr. Clean was able to give him molecular edged blades.”

  Looking at the suit, it was easy to see that a small-sheathed blade had been placed in any location that wouldn’t hinder movement.

  “I see you didn’t go with a yellow utility belt,” Anthony put in, indicating that the suit appeared to have compartments for flash grenades and various other items at the waist. “But are those air vents?”

  “Ahh,” Hayden said excitedly. “They are, on the back, neck, shoulder, and outer thigh.”

  “What, is it a breathability thing?’ Paige asked.

  “No, it’s actually a last hope defense mechanism. The Borealis material holding all the armor in place has its own sort of . . . nervous system. If the suit detects a breach, like that of Feroxian teeth biting through a gap in the armor, the suit has a bladder that releases.”

  “So, it pees itself?” Collin asked.

  “The bladder holds concentrated Ferox repellent,” Hayden said. “It’s a last resort defense mechanism. We assume that a shot of the stuff is a harsh surprise, but will only buy a few seconds until the Ferox realizes it isn’t harmful. Eventually it’ll plug its nose and get back to biting.”

  Hayden kept going through a few more prototypes, and finally brought up the last four.

  One clearly meant for Jonathan, as it had the additional horizontal line that ran across the chest and was built to accommodate both Excali-bar and Doomsday. The three that followed this came as a surprise. A suit intended for the Alpha Slayer and sized to accommodate Grant Morgan’s frame appeared on the display.

  Hayden, seeing everyone’s expression, hastily explained that Mr. Clean was able to whip out these designs quickly. “I just figured it was better to have it and not need it then need it and not . . .”

  Reading the room, mostly Jonathan and Paige’s expressions, he stopped explaining. “. . . Moving on.”

  When the next design came up there was even more silence. Though this time it was as though the group was resisting the urge to fall on the ground laughing.

  “While I appreciate your efforts, I’ll not have any need of this,” Heyer said matter-of-factly.

  “If the helmet is down, you can still wear your hat.”

  Heyer returned a blank stare.

  “Right,” Hayden said. “And last . . .”

  The final design was equally unexpected to all of them, but Leah saw Jonathan’s jaw tightening as he looked up at the display.

  “You made one for the female implant?” Jonathan asked.

  “Hayden instructed me to use Leah’s specifications,” Mr. Clean said.

  He hid his thoughts well, at least to everyone else, but Leah could see just how much thinking was going on beneath the surface.

  “Why?” Jonathan asked, and whether he intended it or not, an edge had entered his voice.

  “Um, well, someone was gonna have to try it on,” Hayden said. “Of the three women on the war council, I thought Leah was the least likely to hit me.”

  Sydney, Paige, and Leah considered this explanation; they all sort of nodded to themselves as though each had independently arrive at the same unspoken conclusion: yeah, probably was his safest bet.

  As the suit’s hologram slowly rotated above the circle, Leah watched Jonathan. He looked away, not just from the design but from her. It was almost as though he feared she would be searching his face for something.

  Collin drew everyone’s attention back to the armor. “What is that on the upper arm, it’s been on all the designs?”

  Mr. Clean zoomed in to focus the display just below the shoulder on one of the prototypes. It was an addition that clearly served only an aesthetic function. Three letters above a set of six striped chevrons, all embroidered in silver.

  “T. N. A.?” Anthony asked carefully.

  Hayden must have felt the weight of all the eyes turning on him. Probably a little heavier from Paige and Leah. “This, whatever we are, it needed a name. I thought, you know . . . The Never Army.”

  Collin grimaced, smacking his lips as he considered what he wanted to say. “Hayden . . . you know that TNA means something else right?”

  Hayden rolled his palms up and bowed his head. “I am aware of the unfortunate association.”

  “. . . and?” Paige asked.

  “And I came to the conclusion there was exactly zero chance of a Ferox making that observation,” Hayden said.

  Collin shrugged. “I guess it’s . . . better than the Tibblers.”

  When no one spoke for a long while, Leah placed a supportive hand on Hayden’s shoulder. “I like it, Hayden. You’ve done something amazing.”

  “Thank you! Finally!” Hayden said.

  “And, you know . . . maybe we can make the initials smaller.”

  Paige chuckled as though she couldn’t stop herself, “Yeah, because you know . . . not everyone lik
es big TNA.”

  Heyer looked about the group with a strange sort of disbelief on his face. “I really do not know how it is that all this childish bickering seems to perpetually produce actual solutions.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  NOV 02, 2005 | 8 PM | HANGMAN’S TREE

  “STAY WIT’ ya if ya want,” Beo said.

  Hayden shook his head, not that he wasn’t grateful for the offer. “I’ve no idea how long I’ll be at this. Not even sure exactly what I hope to learn here.”

  Beo nodded. “Maybe I’ll stick aroun’ jus a bit, make sure he behave.”

  “You aren’t activated,” Hayden said. “What difference would it make if he did try something?”

  “Well, he don’ know dat,” Beo said. “But he know I’m da’ one who tagged ‘im las’ night.”

  Lights the Sun was the fourth Ferox that had been taken prisoner in the last week. Despite its being locked in a cage of true Borealis steel and constantly monitored by Mr. Clean, Hayden shivered as he met those white eyes. The Ferox didn’t hold still, paced back and forth within its confines—its stare never leaving Hayden as he approached.

  Hayden considered Beo’s offer as he took Mr. Clean’s latest creation from his pocket. It looked like a hearing aid, but was actually a necessity for anyone without an implant to have any sort of communication with a majority of Hangman’s Tree’s inhabitants. Most didn’t speak English, and shortly after Mr. Clean developed a translator, Hayden asked if Mr. Clean might be able to make it work between him and a Ferox.

  “So, uh, Mr. Clean,” Hayden said. “How is he going to understand me?”

  “I’m blocking any noise from entering the cage. This has helped keep the prisoners more docile. When you’d like to begin, I’ll translate to the best of my ability,” Mr. Clean said. “Inside, the Ferox will only hear what I translate.”

  “Okay then,” Hayden said. “Let’s see how this goes.”

  He came as close to the cage as he dared, and Lights the Sun began to pace in smaller circles, its eyes completely focused on him now that Beo was standing back.

  “Um, hello there,” Hayden said.

  Hayden couldn’t hear the translation within the cage, but Lights the Sun paused as though listening to a voice. It didn’t understand where the sound was coming from but appeared to comprehend the words. The creature only took a moment to make the connection between Hayden’s mouth moving and the voice speaking to it.

  When the creature’s mouth started moving, Hayden had a similar experience, a short delay before words could be heard through the earpiece.

  “You’re not a challenger,” the Ferox said.

  While he knew it was Mr. Clean doing the speaking, the AI seemed to make the decision that the Ferox should sound more aggressive. The AI may have been going for horror movie monster, but Hayden thought the voice sounded like Swamp Thing.

  “Mr. Clean, why are you using that voice?”

  “The Ferox is using a threatening tone intended to intimidate you,” Mr. Clean said. “I didn’t want any subtext to be lost in translation.”

  Hayden’s lips quirked as he considered. “Hey wait, did you do the same thing on his end?”

  “Yes, though my grasp of Feroxian is far less thorough, I think I captured your meek uncertainty quite well,” Mr. Clean said. “I imitated the vocal abilities of one of their younglings deferring to an adult warrior.”

  Hayden grimaced, then tried to force a patient smile onto his face. “Okay, good to know. Moving forward, could we maybe not let the Ferox know I’m terrified of it? Perhaps use a standard Red’s voice.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “I’ll do my best,” Mr. Clean said.

  Hayden straightened up and stood tall, trying to hide his fear moving forward as he looked the monster in the eye. However, even as he forced himself to stand his ground he thought: Dear God, even with superpowers how did Jonathan ever find the nerve to walk up and punch one of these things?

  In fact, holding its gaze was so unsettling, he decided to use the old trick of staring at the space between its eyes and hope it couldn’t tell the difference. “I’d like to introduce myself, my name is Hayden, what may I call you?”

  The Ferox looked at him with a confusion, almost something akin to disbelief.

  “Your own people gave you this name?” the Ferox said. “So low amongst your kind are you?

  Hayden frowned. Jonathan had warned when he asked to try this just how difficult it could be to have a discussion with a Ferox even if it was willing. He’d thought his friend might have been exaggerating. It was quickly becoming apparent that he may have actually understated the matter.

  “Mr. Clean,” Hayden said with a sigh. “What did you tell him my name was?”

  “Well, Hayden is originally derived from Heathen,” Mr. Clean said. “The Ferox species has an equivalent term but it is an adjective one of their kind would not wish to be described with—”

  “Oh, for the love of . . .”

  Hayden trailed off. This was off to a bad start, but he felt like it had to be worth it if he could just iron out the kinks. He wanted to believe that, if they could just have a conversation, there had to be a way to reach some sort of understanding. He took a moment to think. “Mr. Clean, do the Ferox have a word for ambassador?”

  “Yes, I can successfully translate the term’s meaning,” Mr. Clean said.

  “Good, tell him the first attempt to translate was a mistake, moving forward, he can just call me ambassador.”

  A brief pause followed as the Ferox listened.

  “I am Lights the Sun,” the Ferox said. “But, I am not one who speaks for the tribe.”

  Hayden licked his lips. He turned back to Beo. “Only took five minutes to exchange names, how hard could this be?”

  “So, Lights the Sun,” Hayden said. “I was wondering if you would take a moment and speak to me about your lord and savior, the prophet.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  NOV 04, 2005 | 8 PM | HANGMAN’S TREE

  “HAYDEN,” JONATHAN SAID. “You’ve been quiet tonight?”

  They were in the donut room again, and Hayden looked up and saw their eyes on him. There was no reason to pretend he hadn’t been distracted.

  The war council was meeting daily, and usually late into the night. Their earlier meetings had mostly been spent understanding the details of the plan their shadows had helped Jonathan come up with in The Never. That was also before they had learned of Malkier’s WX gas. What Jonathan had tried to tell them during that very first meeting was far more clear now. Their original plan was broken again; he needed their help to fix it.

  Thing was, tonight, Hayden’s thoughts weren’t focused on how to counter the gas. He’d had a thought, knew it was important, but couldn’t see how to use it.

  “You all know, I’ve been spending as much time as I can talking to Lights the Sun. Trying to understand his species,” Hayden said.

  He already saw looks from most of the table.

  They weren’t unwarranted. He had been the more vocal about finding a diplomatic type of solution to the Ferox than any of the others. The truth was, he wasn’t fully comfortable contributing to the extinction of an entire species of conscious beings. That wasn’t to say that anyone at the table was, but none wanted to rehash the morality of it again.

  None would have accused him of being naïve, but the discussion always ended the same. Assigning good and evil was a useless philosophical discussion—it didn’t change their situation. Earth had to protect itself from an aggressor. No amount of sympathy they might muster for their enemy’s desperation was going to make them risk the planet.

  “I do not think the Ferox are intrinsically evil,” Hayden said. “But Malkier—”

  “Hayden?” Anthony interjected. “All due respect, if this is a moral meditation and not something actionable, let’s not.”

  “No, it’s . . .” Hayden sighed. “I think I’m coming to understand something about t
he Ferox through Lights the Sun. I don’t think they follow the prophet out of faith.”

  He got a few unsure looks.

  “Hayden, they literally call him the prophet,” Sydney said. “They believe he is their gods made flesh.”

  “He is one of their gods made flesh,” Hayden said. “They just don’t understand that the Borealis were never gods.”

  “What difference does it make?” Anthony asked.

  “They’re just being pragmatic,” Hayden said. “There is no spirituality to it.”

  Most of the table looked at him blankly.

  “Okay, when I tell you I believe Jesus could perform miracles, that he was the son of God, it’s an act of faith. I wasn’t there, I never saw, never witnessed the things for myself,” Hayden said.

  “Lights the Sun doesn’t have to push back against any doubt. He has seen the prophet firsthand. I ask him how he knows the prophet speaks for their gods and he tells me of how Malkier brought ancient religious artifacts of their creators back to life after having been dormant for centuries. He tells me how the prophet opens portals to the battle ground where they find their challengers. He’s seen the prophet astral project, speak to all the tribes at once all over the entire Feroxian Plane.

  “But, Lights the Sun doesn’t use the words I am using. He just sees Malkier using the power of his gods to accomplish things he can hardly begin to understand. Lights the Sun doesn’t need faith to believe, he literally has no better explanation.”

  Collin shrugged. “He’s got a point, for a Ferox it might be a greater leap of faith to conceive that the prophet isn’t a god.”

  “How is that a weakness though?” Leah said.

  “If Malkier were actually a god,” Hayden said, “it wouldn’t be a weakness, because no one could create doubt in his people.”

  “Doubt,” Sydney asked.

  Hayden shrugged. “If their belief is based on what they witness, if there is no act of faith binding them to it, then . . . how much will it take to put doubt into them? To show the Ferox that Malkier isn’t a god?”