by Rod Porter
“That man I saw on the surface,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “is not the man I married.”
Jackson picked up his head from the sink and looked at her plainly, wiping some of the bile from his lips. “Leave it alone, Stephanie. Not right now.”
“If not now, when?” she said. “I remember your injuries when you were first brought here, Jackson. You’re some kind of mercenary, aren’t you?”
Jackson chuckled and drew some breaths.
“What, were you a mercenary? A nomad? What?”
“Leave it alone, Stephanie.”
“I need to know, Jacks-”
“No!” Jackson pounded his hand into the counter. He looked into her eyes. If only she could understand that his heart was broken, that he had never been so sad in all his life as he was at this moment. Just then, he realized that he was still clutching the dead bandit’s dog tags in his hand. There was a streak of blood across them. The Wolves…
Jackson collapsed to the floor in tears. He pressed his back up against the kitchen wall and began to sob. Stephanie stood in the corridor and let him have his moment of grief.
“I used to be a soldier,” Jackson began painfully. He looked straight ahead at the wall, as if it were showing a video of the events he was recalling. “Those men I killed today were my friends. I haven’t seen them for years.”
Stephanie came over and sat by her husband on the floor. Recognizing how difficult it was for him to speak, she placed her hand on top of his, attempting to provide support. Still in a trance, he continued.
“The Wolves were a task force of special ops soldiers put together some years ago by the Unconformed. Their mission was to scour the wastes for treacherous colonies, with orders to raid and destroy any they found.” Jackson could tell that Stephanie wanted to ask something, but she was going to let him finish. He knew that the mention of the Unconformed had unsettled her. She had made no secret to him of her hatred for the resistance and the pain they had caused her.
“At first, the Wolves were a great success. Efficient, deadly, and thorough on a scale like you would not believe. After months of successful operations, they came to discover what was, at the time, considered the greatest of all treacherous colonies. This particular settlement served as a weapons depot for an alien post. The intelligence was solid, but there were concerns that the target was too far away from headquarters. Dropping a small force like the Wolves that deep in enemy territory was considered too dangerous by some. But the Wolves convinced the powers that be.” Jackson hesitated. His conscience stung as he remembered that he had been the powers that be. “Somehow, after a few days, the Unconformed lost all contact with the Wolves. A search team was sent out, but they never came up with any sign of the squad. They were deemed killed in action. That squad of seven men that attacked us today was what was left over from the Wolves.”
“I don’t understand,” said Stephanie. “How is this related to you?”
“I created the Wolves,” Jackson managed to say. “I made the decision to green-light their last mission, and I made the decision to terminate the search and pronounce them dead. I abandoned them to the wastes for nearly three years. And now, the soldiers I was supposed to bring home, the boys I was supposed to keep safe, I’ve killed.”
Stephanie’s heart began to pound.
“You created them? But that would mean that you were-”
“With the resistance,” Jackson regretfully finished her sentence. “I was-” He could not finish. He did not want her to hate him.
“Why would you do such a thing? Create a…a hit squad to go out and kill innocent people?”
“Treacherous colonies are not what we were led to believe. When people who have never been in one hear about treacherous colonies, they hear about how human slaves are auctioned off to the invaders. The treacherous colonies and their people are depicted as vicious traitors who will stop at nothing to help the aliens bring down humanity. To those of us who don’t know any better, there is nothing or no one that deserves a slow, painful death more than a treacherous.”
They looked at one another for a moment. “But we were wrong. It’s the aliens that want people to view places like Hivestown as central hubs for evil.”
“How could you?”
“Don’t you see what happened today? The angels didn’t come to protect us. They let that situation play out. Left us to die. Stephanie, you have to understand, I’ve witnessed the invaders’ brutality first hand. We are nothing to them, and once those who defy them are wiped out, they’ll come for you people. They’re smart. They recognize the need for humanity to divide and do their work for them.” He paused. “How many treacherous do you think those Wolves have killed? And now I’ve killed them. The aliens have us killing each other.”
“That’s not true. They saved us. They provide for us.”
“This isn’t real, Stephanie. This house; that sky and sun outside. None of it is real. It’s all a hologram, an illusion. The real world is what we experienced today on the surface. I was the leader of the Unconformed before I came here. You people found me washed ashore after a mission that went bad. I created the resistance.”
Stephanie’s hand pulled away from his.
“Your family’s pain, and the pain that you carry around with you, came upon you by soldiers who were carrying out my orders. Everyone’s blood is on my hands. And now even the Wolves.”
There was a knock at the front door. Both of them ignored it.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
The knocking continued accompanied by multiple voices announcing themselves as agents of the Hivestown Bureau of Investigation. Jackson did not want the door to be opened. He wanted time alone with his wife. A lot had been thrown at them both today, and he wanted to know where they went from here. With all his heart and soul he still loved her, but he wondered if that was enough. Eventually, Stephanie rose to her feet. To Jackson, her actions gave him all the answer he needed, as she slowly opened the door.
“Good evening, ma’am. We are looking for your husband.”
She looked back at Jackson, who was still on the floor in the kitchen, emotionally destroyed. He needed comfort and reassurance that he was still a good man and that he still had a loving, supportive wife. But she could not bring herself to surrender to what he needed. She was too hurt and betrayed. She had told him early on of her hatred for the Unconformed, and he had shared her bed anyway, even married her. She was carrying the child of the founder of the group of men who had taken her family from her.
“Ma’am, if your husband is here, you need to tell us. We just want to ask him some questions.”
Jackson saw the struggle in Stephanie’s eyes. He desperately hoped that he still had a wife and that she still loved him and wanted to be with him. If not, then he would not even care that the Bureau would have him in custody. What was the point of going on and being free if the woman he loved no longer loved him? To his horror, she stepped back and let the agents enter the house. There were six of them, all armed with shotguns. They were taking no chances with a man as dangerous as Jackson.
“Sir, we need you to come with us,” said the lead agent.
They brought him to his feet and put him in handcuffs. All the while, Stephanie watched the scene unfold, with devastation in her eyes and a pain in her stomach. He told her once more that he was sorry and that he loved her, right before the agents dragged him out the front door. As soon as they were gone, Stephanie fell to the floor in anguish.
“Jackson,” she said, crying. “My Jackson. How could you do this to us?”
Outside the house, Jackson did not put up any kind of a fight. His entire body was limp. He did not care what was going to happen to him. When the agents shoved him in the back of their car, all he could think about was that he had destroyed his one and only chance to be happy.
“You’re not under arrest, Mr. Wright. I want you to understand that.”
Jackson had been taken to a small interroga
tion room at the Bureau’s headquarters. Still in restraints, he sat in front of an agent who was flanked by two armed guards.
“Nor are you being charged with any crime,” the agent continued. “But there are some questions that you will need to answer for me. Can you do that?”
Jackson had not said a word since he had been put in the back of the agency vehicle. What was the point of talking? Stephanie had allowed the authorities to storm their home without a second thought; he had killed his own men; and on top of it all, who knew how many innocent people they had killed under his orders? The whole situation was a fiasco. For the first time in his life, Jackson wondered if he would be better off dead. The agent in front of him kept saying that he was there to help, that he just wanted to know the truth, but Jackson was not in a talkative mood. Little did the agent realize that, if Jackson desired, he could pick his restraints easily, disarm the guards, and blast his way out of the headquarters in a matter of seconds. But what would be the point? He had no home. Not Jade, not Hivestown, not anywhere. Most likely, everyone back in Jade thought he was dead anyway.
“Mr. Wright.” Jackson still was not completely used to the fictitious last name he had provided Hivestown. “You killed seven men earlier today, by the accounts of the witnesses and our one surviving agent. And you killed them very efficiently, which would suggest that you are trained in combat tactics.”
Silence. The agent continued.
“I am curious as to whether or not you are combat-trained and, if so, where you received this training.” Jackson didn’t even blink. He just continued to look down at the table in a daze.
“From what I’m told, you had some pretty serious injuries when you were first brought to Hivestown. Would you care to explain to me the nature of those injuries?” Nothing. “You see, I think that you were a mercenary of some sort, which is not any kind of crime, so I don’t want you to be nervous. I think you’re a hero,” the agent lied. Jackson was from Jade, and he knew bullshit when he heard it. “You saved eight civilians today.”
Billy watched the interview behind the one-way glass with three of his superiors from the Bureau. Thanks to Jackson, all Billy had sustained from the altercation with the Wolves was a gunshot wound to the side, and the bullet had just barely grazed him.
“He’s not the enemy.”
“We’ll be the judge of that, Agent Collins,” reprimanded one of Billy’s superiors. “He may have saved your life, but-”
“And the lives of eight civilians, sir,” agent Billy Collins interrupted.
“He may have saved your life, Collins,” the senior agent continued, irritated at having to repeat himself, “but make no mistake, this is the most dangerous man this town has ever seen. He is trained in combat tactics, and he is intelligent and educated.”
“You act like this is some back-alley township. He poses no threat, sir. I guarantee it,” Billy said.
“Then it is a good thing that I outrank your guarantee.”
They looked back through the mirror. The interrogator looked back at them and shook his head. Jackson was not going to give them anything. Not this way. They might have to change tactics.
“He’s not going to give us anything,” the interrogator informed the Bureau’s high-ranking officials when he entered the back observation room. “I think it’s time we requested to search through the angels’ databanks. Maybe even release his photograph to them.”
Billy could not believe what he was hearing. He had always believed in the Bureau creed to keep the people of Hivestown safe, but this was ridiculous. They were treating this man like some kind of threat. He had just saved innocent citizens and a government agent! He should be a hero.
“Are you sure that’s the best thing to do?” one of the agents questioned.
“Believe me,” the interrogator responded. “This guy is some kind of soldier, maybe even Unconformed. I guarantee you that the angels will have something on him. Just imagine how grateful they’ll be if he is someone they are looking for? Where did you say the scout team had found him again?”
“He was washed up on the shores,” Billy offered. “Shot to hell.”
“Sounds suspiciously like a blown military op to me,” said the interrogator.
Billy doubted whether the men he shared the room with were half as brave and forthright as the man they were condemning in the other. They had no code, and Jackson clearly did, as evidenced by his silence. Jackson’s behavior was inspiring to Billy, as was the valor he had shown on the surface. There was something very magnetic about him.
MOMENTUM
Everything was going according to plan. Troy had taken a huge gamble spreading out the Unconformed’s resources by sending teams out to other countries, but it appeared to be bearing fruit. Excellent progress was being made with the African tribes. The nine tribes were known throughout the region as the Xhosa-Zulu, and their ferocity and valor was legendary. Some of the stories that Troy had heard made him question whether he and the soldiers he commanded had half the courage and resourcefulness of the Xhosa-Zulu. The particular Xhosa-Zulu tribe that had shot them down and provided them with shelter was known as the Ones. It had been pure luck that they had a few English speakers. It had also been good fortune that their leader, Ayira, was an intelligent woman of vision and practicality.
Troy had spent many long nights having discussions with Ayira while her interpreter translated. A strong bond formed between the two leaders. Just as Ayira had assured Troy, the remaining eight tribes had mostly been won over by his people’s ability to fly and their claimed number of troops. While the tribes did have concerns and reasonable doubt that a resistance force with such formidable numbers actually existed back in America, there was no doubting that Troy and his people were legitimate. It had taken some weeks of negotiation, but the Xhosa-Zulu eventually voted unanimously to unite under one banner with the American resistance. The Xhosa-Zulu were tired of war, but not in the same sense as Troy and his people.
It saddened Troy to know that these African regions had known nothing but decades of war and hardship well before the aliens ever invaded, even before the nuclear wars began. Famine and genocide had torn the region apart and caused such despair that, for a time, parts of Africa had been happy when the aliens had invaded. Their intrusion had united the Africans in a way that otherwise would have been impossible. Just maybe, Ayira had said to Troy one evening, if they could defeat the aliens, Africa could begin a long generation of unified peace and prosperity. Troy made a mental note always to be in good favor with Ayira. She was an extraordinary woman. The leaders of the other tribes were less extraordinary. The majority of them just wanted power. Troy liked to think he cared as much about his own people as Ayira did hers.
In all this time, nothing had attacked the crash site. Colonel Cartwright had reported that their rations and supplies were holding, and that they had finally established communications with command headquarters back in Jade. Rufus had done it! He had successfully linked them, from an audio sense at least, across the ocean. The reports from Jade were very positive. Troy’s latest broadcast had attracted throngs of recruits from all over the former United States. The Unconformed’s numbers were swelling all across the board. Not only that, but tremendous progress was being made at the flight academy. The pilots were coming along nicely and would be combat-ready in due time. Now that they had an air force and were expanding their reach and influence abroad, as well as back home, reconnaissance teams were scouting locations all over the country to find their next alien target. Troy and the rest of his troops had been infuriated by the sour taste the island offensive had left in their mouths. Their next assault would be monumental. The plague would not know what hit them.
Once Rufus had finished his work at the crash site, the Xhosa-Zulu transported him, Colonel Cartwright, and the battalion to their village. Using the proper equipment, Rufus built a makeshift command center in one of the village huts. The Africans were as amazed as the rest of Jade had been with Rufus
’s technical genius. In a matter of weeks Rufus had managed to link the Xhosa-Zulu mainframe to the one in resistance headquarters in Jade. The first human intercontinental neural network was officially operational, at least in its early stages.
Reports from the other parties that had gone to other countries were positive, for the most part. None of the teams had run into the kind of problems that Troy’s had, but not all of them had found signs of resistance fighters, either. Russia, Japan, China, Mexico, India, and Britain turned out to be the only countries the Unconformed had visited that had significant resistance bodies. The Xhosa-Zulu were a huge find with their artillery, most specifically the anti-aircraft guns, but all of the other resistance bodies had their own strengths and were a formidable opponent to the aliens in their respective homelands.
It turned out that the techies Rufus had trained and sent with the other carriers had retained his teachings well, because they were able to mimic his efforts and create technical command centers in these countries as well. It was a good thing Rufus had agreed to construct a detailed manual before they had begun their journey. Troy was filled with pride at the efficiency with which his people had carried out their assignments. The palpable sense of hope he had produced as the new General was so electric that it could now be felt across the oceans themselves. While all the resistance bodies had responded warmly to the Unconformed, Troy knew that was not enough. They also had to ally themselves with the other nationalities. It was not enough that the Xhosa-Zulu would unite with the Unconformed. They would have to unite with the Russians, and the Russians with them. The Indians would have to unite with the Japanese, and the Japanese with them. Everyone needed to ally with everyone else. Their enemy was too numerous and too powerful to be defeated by anything less than a global force. If these countries could put aside their potential differences and fight together, others would follow. Troy decided that he needed a banner for the global resistance. He had some troops spend time with some Xhosa-Zulu members. Together they would come up with a flag-not just for the first human resistance, but the very first flag of the Planet Earth.