Voice of a Crimson Angel [Part I]_Persecution

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Voice of a Crimson Angel [Part I]_Persecution Page 3

by Joshua Landeros


  Zaneta yelled along with the rest of them. Even Eli joined her. She felt people pushing at her back, but she was damned if she would give up her spot at the front.

  “Break it up, people! Head on home!” came a voice through a speaker.

  Forcing their way through the audience were UNR soldiers. Their leader shoved Eli to the ground to get to the speaker, Zaneta helping him up.

  “You have no right to silence us!” the speaker yelled. “It’s our right to voice our opinions!”

  “If said speech is meant to obstruct the assimilation effort, then we have orders to intervene. From where I’m standing, you crossed the shit line.”

  The speaker had a shocked look on his face, moving the soldiers to laugh.

  “So, what’ll it be?”

  Before he could answer, there was a loud yell from the center of the gathered crowd:

  “Fuck off, dogs!”

  The soldier turned to face the audience, the group now parting to reveal a solitary figure who hadn’t budged. He recognized it immediately: you little shit. The young man was cocking an arm back, and in that throwing arm he had a brick. The UNR soldier did not budge.

  The teenager got ready to hurl his weapon, but a strong hand grabbed his wrist. Try as he might, he could no longer move his arm. Instead, he felt his arm being pulled back slowly. The boy hollered as he could no longer stand. Behind him was a soldier in a coat and armor. The cyborg kept along till there was a snap of bone, and in that one sound, the crowd went running in all directions.

  Zaneta and Eli ran a distance, but she didn’t go far before taking cover behind a tree in the plaza before the church. Eli tugged on her shoulder.

  “Zaneta, let’s go!” he urged.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t hear him, she simply ignored him. With everyone gone, it was only the four UNR vehicles in front of the cathedral now. That and one cyborg and the one would-be rebel who was tossed to the pavement. The solider who’d challenged the speaker now stood over him, a beaming smile on his face.

  “Looks like you’re gonna be late for dinner, buddy.”

  “Zaneta!” Eli persisted.

  It took all her restraint to rush back out into the plaza, but she ultimately ran away with her friend.

  ***

  Elsa City, Texas

  Zaneta came home to a quiet street, parking her Kia Stinger next to her mother’s truck. She fetched her bags from her trunk and then moved to the front door. The old house looked the same, though she noted the rose bushes were half dead. It was plain to see under the porch light.

  Zaneta took a deep breath before inserting her key and then opened the door. Even from the darkness of the living room, she could see the light coming from the hall. This time there was no running.

  She got to the source of the light, the telescreen broadcasting an episode of The Essential Globe. Her mother was seated on the couch with tired and glazed eyes. A half-gone bottle of cabernet was on the small table beside her.

  “You know I bought you that car assuming you’d be responsible,” Julissa said as she looked at the telescreen. “I wanted to believe that.”

  “Mom, I’m sorry. Me and Eli met up with some friends in Travis County. We can have dinner tomorrow. I’ll even cook.”

  Julissa scoffed, “Travis County, huh?”

  Zaneta didn’t respond to the question. She only waited. Her mother stood from her spot on the couch, and Zaneta felt anger when seeing the woman stumble slightly.

  “Enough bullshit, Zaneta!” she said. “I saw your ass at that rally on the news! Ducking and running like everyone else! What the hell would you have done if someone had started shooting?!”

  “Take care of myself. I’ve had enough training at Weslaco. Hell, I’d do a lot more than run if you let me carry a piece.”

  Julissa only grew angrier, standing close to her daughter. The smell of the wine was all the stronger now.

  “And I never will! You’re getting mixed up in shit you can’t even understand!”

  “I understand a whole lot. In a week I’ll have graduated, and you won’t have to worry about what I do. Simple as that.”

  “Is that all graduation means to you? Gettin’ into all the trouble you want without having to listen to me trying to steer you away from all this shit? What happened to the little girl who used to write poems and funny little stories for her classmates?”

  “Stop pretending that you care. Just stop.”

  “I don’t care? I don’t care?!”

  “No, you don’t!” Zaneta snapped back. “The only time you need to worry about me is the weekends and with Damien, you couldn’t even manage that!”

  All the fury left Julissa’s face. Her expression was one of disbelief, and she couldn’t respond. Zaneta’s glare dug into her before walking down the gloomy hallway. Julissa watched her go. She even listened to her footsteps going up the stairs. The last sound she heard from her daughter that night was the slam of her door. Nothing more. Julissa returned to the couch, still with that lost look in her eyes.

  Chapter 3 - Ultimatum

  August 9, 2050 - Villahermosa, Mexico

  Pamela King, Unit 6-76, walked into the auditorium of the Esperanza Iris Theatre. Beside her was President Camacho, followed by more men and women in suits. The seats looked untouched besides the dust, but up ahead was the real attention drawer.

  “This will be our only real problem, sir,” she reported as she turned to face them. However, none of them were staring at her anymore. They were all gawking at the ruined stage.

  Above it in the ceiling was a huge hole, and the chunks of debris had buried the mainstage. None drew any closer to the sight, but none could look away from it. A few of the ones in the back looked like they wanted to pass out. They should have seen this place when it was covered in bodies, she mused. How she restrained herself, she didn’t know, but she was glad she had. Even the president appeared as if he was on the verge of tears.

  “I used to come here as a boy,” he muttered, “what now?”

  “Sir, an enemy unit was firing on one of our platoons with artillery. We stopped them, but not before they fired on a scouting squad atop the theater. Our apologies, sir.”

  Pam watched President Camacho place a hand on the seat closest to him. She always wore a dark green, brimless, hat on her dark hair and at sight she had an amusing thought. Should I remove my hat like it’s some funeral?

  “Those idiots. Those damn idiots,” he muttered. Pam saw him looking at the wires that dangled from the wound in the building.

  “With the Holy Guardians expelled from the city, we can start rebuilding as soon as you give the word. As our Chancellor promised, construction crews can be here in less than a week.”

  “Right, of course,” the president nodded.

  “Any date in mind?” Pam inquired, but the politician was still gazing at the mess. With her arms folded behind her back, she approached patiently. That didn’t stop her eyes from piercing into him.

  All heads turned as another person entered the theater. Pam was surprised to see it was Unit 23 approaching. The bureaucrats saw the sword and armor and automatically parted to let her through. It was a humorous sight for Pam since 23 was shorter than most of them, including herself. Pam was glad to see her soldier did not walk past any of them without greeting them, and she even remembered to bow at the sight of President Camacho.

  “Sorry to intrude, sir. I just needed to speak with my commanding officer,” she said politely.

  “Yes, go on. We’ll stay here until she returns,” he replied.

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll send in a squad to keep you company.”

  The two cyborgs walked outside, 6-76 enjoying the bright sun above and cool breeze. From her coat, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and immediately lit one. She offered one to her fellow soldier, but Unit 23 wasn’t eyeing the offer at all.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, Pam, but it’s urgent. I wasn’t sure what to do,” she said. 6-76 noted a sense of f
ear in her voice.

  “Anything to get out of being chaperoned. So, what has you so rattled? Should I notify President Camacho?”

  “I think we should keep it to ourselves till we assess the situation,” Valerie said. “We should hurry. I’ll explain on the way.”

  “And we’re heading where?”

  “Yumka.”

  Pam could’ve sworn she felt the sun get just a little bit hotter on her dark skin. She was already sensing she was in for a hell of a day.

  ***

  Yumka Zoo was located within the city limits, and by way of Humvee, the duo arrived quickly. This had been the gem of Prime Minister Esteban back when he was among the land of the living. It had taken years to clean up, but once completed it had been a worldwide tourist destination. Now dead animals were just about everywhere. Walking through the field of grass was a tour through a butcher shop. The foliage was bathed in the blood of all sorts of creatures lying dead. The first few had enormous bullet holes in them, a large elephant having gone down on the banks of the human-made watering hole.

  As the two walked on, the bodies became unsightly. Antelopes had been cleaved, most right around the spine. A giraffe was slumped against a tree, its entrails spilling out at its feet. They were walking toward the center of the main exhibit, a place where animals had roamed free for decades. Under that dazzling sun, the crimson pools sparkled.

  “And you’re sure he’s contained?” said Pam as she puffed away. She was livid, but with her it was usually hard to tell.

  “Yes, he is,” Valerie said.

  “Okay, the story we’re going to run with is that the Holy Guardians, angry at their defeat, laid waste to targets that couldn’t fight back. We’ll need to talk with the rest of the platoon to work out the details.”

  “Pam, what are we going to do about him?”

  There were close enough now that they could see a group of super soldiers arranged in a circle in the grass.

  “I’ll make my diagnosis and proceed from there,” Pam replied coldly.

  The circle was composed of half a dozen cyborgs, all with the same look on their face. Never thought I’d see a cyborg with the ‘oh shit’ look on their face. Bit of a keepsake. Pam was impressed that she could find humor in the situation, even if it were a minute crumb. Ptolemy turned to face the two females, the others keeping their eyes on the monster in the radius of the formation.

  “Has he attacked any of you?” Pam asked as she stepped a short distance from everyone else.

  She could tell Ptolemy wanted to look back at him.

  “No, ma’am. Trying to talk to him hasn’t worked either, and now…I don’t know. We’ve been keeping back.”

  “Okay, good, good,” Pam said. Valerie saw what was going on in the circle and felt a chill. She’d never seen anything like it. Quite frankly, Pam was tired of all the shock.

  “All right, here I go.”

  Ptolemy and Val watched as their commanding officer approach the unholy apparition that sickened even UNR super soldiers. Valerie knew better. Ptolemy couldn’t help himself.

  “Do you want backup?” he asked.

  Pam stopped in her tracks and looked back at her subordinate.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” he hastily said.

  Placing her hands in her coat pockets and exhaling smoke through her nostrils, Pam stepped into the circle. Sitting on the bloody grass like a child was the person of interest.

  “Tyler, care to talk?”

  Tyler did not hear her. He kept at his work. The cyborg scraped his sword gently across the metal of his arm, starting from his elbow up to his fingertips. What little flesh remained came off and fell in the piles of scraps in his laps. His entire left arm almost up to his shoulder had been freed of skin and muscle.

  “Tyler!”

  The soldier heard this but reacted slowly, as if he wasn’t sure. He gazed at Pam, neither alarmed or seemingly in shock. He went back to his task.

  “Ma’am,” he said quietly.

  “We have to talk, soldier.”

  “About them?”

  Pam stood right over him, eclipsing him in her shadow.

  “Yes, them.”

  “They weren’t real, so what does it matter?” he said casually.

  “You sure about that? I got enough of them on the bottom of my boots to say otherwise.”

  The grazing along his arm was growing faster. His grip on the hilt of his sword tightened. He took a deep breath.

  “They laughed at me. They told me I was dead. I…I hated it, ma’am.”

  “You look alive to me, Tyler.”

  The soldier ground his teeth.

  “I’m not so sure,” he said as they looked at the metallic arm he’d exposed. Blood and all, it still glimmered like a jewel. Ptolemy rested his hand on the hilt of his saber.

  “Come on, let’s get you fixed up,” Pam coaxed. She held out her hand as Tyler stared at his lap. The pieces of himself looked back at him. He was so confused, and his head banged. They’re not laughing at me. They’re not laughing at me. Tyler looked up at his commander, but he didn’t see her inviting smile. All he saw was the face of death itself. Death had finally come to claim his soul. Whether to heaven or hell, he did not know, but he knew one thing for certain: Pat’s waiting for me!

  In the flash of a second, Tyler leaped to his feet and swung at Pam. She wasn’t even a foot away. There was no way the strike would miss its target. That day, for the first time, those super soldiers saw what happened to a cyborg when slashed by a neoartium blade. Contrary to what many of them had previously believed, a super soldier was cut apart just as easily as a normal human.

  Pam still stood, perfectly calm as if nothing had occurred. In her hand was her sword, while Tyler’s was on the grass, along with his right hand. She took no further action. Taraja and Cullen were on him, restraining him no matter how hard he struggled. Pam observed for a little longer before addressing Ptolemy.

  “Call in a med chopper,” she commanded.

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  She next looked at Valerie.

  “I want that cover story memorized within the hour, 23! Make sure everyone knows!”

  “On it, ma’am!”

  Pam threw the cigarette butt to the ground. The first thing on her mind was fetching her handkerchief to wipe her saber clean. Go easy on him, Aliss.

  ***

  August 10, 2050 – Venloran’s Office, UNR Headquarters

  Chancellor Venloran looked at the telescreen across from his desk. On it was live footage of a UNR super soldier restrained on an operating table. Dr. Krenzler was inspecting him. Watching the video, Venloran felt strange realizing the procedure was taking place within this very building. One of his prized warriors had fallen, and not to an enemy but themselves. Now came the critical moment.

  Seated in front of him was Dr. Robert Neeson, and standing beside him was Aliss Howard. All of them were watching the footage. No matter how long they waited, Tyler remained where he was.

  “He appears to have improved,” commented Neeson.

  Kearney was studying the hard copies of Tyler’s case file. In it were images hard to look at. Snapshots of the incident that had nearly reduced him to pulp the year before.

  “Unit 10-5-62 is a tough one. I’ll give him that,” he said as he read on, “but it looks like he hit his limit.”

  “Tyler suffered brain damage, but he was competent enough to agree to the process,” Neeson replied. “We need to give him time.”

  “I despise giving up on a soldier, Robert, but there’s been an escalation in his condition,” Venloran said.

  “So, we give him small dosages until we can clear this up,” the doctor recommended. “We have more than enough units in the field to take his place.”

  Kearney seemed satisfied with this, but Venloran wasn’t. Aliss stopped analyzing the telescreen now. He sensed it was time.

  “3-05, what’s your diagnosis?” Venloran asked.

  “Sir, from what I’ve re
ad Tyler Noels was already in bad shape before the procedure. It’s been thirteen months since then, and he’s only worsened. Field reports from 6-76 confirm this. I believe there is a low probability he will return to optimal functionality.”

  Venloran sighed, bringing both his elbows off his desk as he sat back in his chair.

  “Unit 10-5-62 will be neutralized. We’ll send him to a salvage center,” he stated.

  Aliss didn’t bat an eye and Kearney placed the files on the Chancellor’s desk. The doctor couldn’t hide what he was feeling, prompting Venloran to speak on it.

  “Is there a problem, Robert?”

  The Chancellor said this with genuine concern, but Neeson chose his words carefully all the same.

  “I think it’s a waste, but I understand time is of the essence.”

  “Agreed, this meeting is adjourned. I’d like to thank you both for your proposals.”

  Robert shook Venloran’s hand as Aliss bowed. The two left the Chancellor and his assistant to themselves. They headed for the elevator, but Robert paused, causing Aliss to do so as well.

  “If you could hold on a moment, 3-05.”

  “Absolutely, sir.”

  Neeson was thinking of Tyler at that very moment. He was in the same building, and he was being put to death. And here I stand, letting them do it.

  “Probabilities aside, if we took our time Unit 10-5-62 could have been saved. Not for certain, but the possibility was there. Did you not want to take the chance?”

  Aliss was quick with his response. “We are at war, sir. That is our function, and he failed his duty. He was also a potential threat. For me the decision was clear.”

  Robert nodded, letting a few soldiers walk past before he spoke again.

  “Let me ask you this, then. Do you disapprove of my decision? It was I, after all, who filed for his procedure in the first place.”

 

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