The Chess Pieces

by Joshua Landeros

“I don’t need you. That time has passed, and you’d better accept it.”

  She shoved past him, leaving him there in the doorway. Gabby’s rage had sent her into a different world, now feeling lightheaded and her throat dry. Alex and her cadets didn’t turn to face her as she took to the stairs. The silence in the shop ensured her that they’d heard every word. The back of her skull pulsated with a life of its own as she ascended, and she wasted no time leaving entirely.

  Will stood alone in the room, merely bowing his head before kneeling to gather the scattered tools.

  ***

  Location: Undisclosed

  The three men entered the room. The dim red lighting left quite a bit of darkness. In the middle of the room was a large table with a patient on it. The patient on the table was no human. In fact, the three men weren’t quite sure what it was. Captain Howarth ignored everything else in the room and approached the operation platform.

  Venloran and Kearney instead went over to the group of surgeons standing close to the wall. The large team all bowed as their Chancellor came to them.

  “Glad you made it, sir,” the lead surgeon greeted.

  “Dr. Thorton, my pleasure. Why this lighting?” the Chancellor asked.

  “His eyes need to adjust slowly. Could take the better part of the day.”

  “And how is he?”

  “Vitals are holding strong and his plasma power core is fully functional. When he’s ready, he can move as he likes.”

  The discussion was interrupted by the sound of crying.

  Everyone in the room looked to see Captain Howarth standing over the monstrous metal giant. He put his head down on the armor plates that were meant to be its chest.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry,” Howarth whispered.

  In an eerie fashion and without warning, one of the titan’s arms raised up. Everyone watched intently. The only person who didn’t seem to notice the movement was Howarth himself. The metallic arm rose and then allowed its hand to gently rest itself on the man’s cheek. Howarth stopped his mourning and looked into the eyes of the creature.

  Sure enough, within pockets of darkness, he saw familiar human eyes.

  Chapter 13 - See You at the Gates

  October 13, 2065 - Lungi International Airport, Sierra Leone

  Inside the cockpit, the two pilots had an incredible view of Lungi. From behind the glass they could still hear the occasional growl of gunfire. At the very least, their bodies could relax, even if their minds could not. The older pilot slid his intercom headpiece down to his neck, shutting it off for a moment. There was no way to enjoy the view of the ocean with the battered runway before them. The night’s pelting of artillery had blown several small craters into the tarmac, but it would have to do.

  “I wonder how much longer they’re gonna have us sit here like this. Fucking sun is coming up, and we’re the only plane stuck out here.”

  “It’s been three hours roughly, sir,” commented the younger copilot. “From what I hear, we’re getting it back under control.”

  The older one cracked his neck. “We were stationed here under the pretense it was a safe zone. I’m an airman and yet I’ve spent the last few hours knee deep in the shit.”

  “Comes with the territory, don’t you think, sir?”

  “We all have to acknowledge there will always be a time when that C.O. you respected the most pisses on your head and acts as if you’re none the wiser.”

  “Well, if it makes any difference to you our cargo is headed back home. Think we’ll get some extra R and R?”

  “We have to get out of this hell hole first.”

  ***

  The city may have been thousands of miles from any he knew, but the sky was the same. Not even the faint passing of black smoke could ruin that painting of orange and purple. The captain looked up at it with anger, that brilliant view the only thing keeping him from ripping the hair out of his scalp. There had been some ruckus in the holding area last night, and with all the fighting, he’d been far too busy to check in. It was a direct slander of their professionalism and worse, an undermining of the Chancellor’s orders.

  The C-17 Globemaster III was ready and waiting. The captain stood on the tarmac in front of the open bay door alongside Unit 37. She stood there as silent as he did, arms behind her back in an orderly manner. Mari turned her head in the opposite direction just an inch or two, prompting the captain to do so as well. About damn time.

  Sergeant Mangham and a squad of soldiers were approaching fast, two prisoners in front of them. Still, the captain wasn’t pleased in the least. Mari could see why—the two prisoners looked battered and broken. One of them walked with a gimp, an evident amount of pain in his femur. The cyborg could see through the ruse of his silence, the way his jaw was clenched so tightly. The other one drew her attention even more. It appeared as if he had but one eye to glare at her with. The bandage covering his left eye appeared fresh and sloppily applied. Upon spotting the cyborg, he lowered his head.

  “Don’t tell me that’s the best you got, Mangham!!”

  “Sorry, sir, but the others probably wouldn’t even make the flight. It’s these two or wait for the roaches to lose their second wind. We could gather more then, if you wish.”

  “No, we are all already far behind schedule.”

  “Securing the runways and port were no easy tasks, Captain,” Mari reminded.

  “A lot of us haven’t had shuteye for almost forty-eight hours,” Mangham chimed in.

  “That doesn’t reduce my orders to dog shit. Every soldier was to hold off till my command!”

  “Most likely cherries, sir. Probably just spooked at how hard the opposition came back.”

  Mangham was surprised at how earnestly 37 was fighting against the captain’s reprimand. It wasn’t any soldier’s place to debate a matter such as this, ever. Perhaps it was the lingering aftershocks of Carson’s death. In any case, the captain turned to look at the cyborg now.

  “Oh, yes, the last noble push! It makes no difference! By afternoon, this city will be back under local government control. I’ve already ensured this to President Johal,” he said, then looked at the prisoners. The one-eyed bastard was definitely a sight and he grabbed him by his chin, inspecting him like a dented trophy. To his amazement, he proved resilient, shaking his head free of his grip. Well, not finished quite yet. Mari could have smiled. The captain only looked over the prisoner a second longer, apparently satisfied.

  “Maybe there’s hope after all. Load ’em up!!”

  The soldiers went to it, though the captain stopped Mangham with a hand on her shoulder.

  “However, I will be busting asses when it’s all said and done. Go back to your post, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Once more, it was just the captain and the cyborg. She began her walk up the ramp.

  “Hurry on back, soldier. Otherwise, you’ll miss out on all the fun.”

  Mari stopped short of fully entering the plane, but she did not face him.

  “Generous of you, though I am to be shacked up with the filth.”

  “Don’t give me that. You will always be one of mine.”

  Mari had a strange feeling, an uproar inside her, but she only placed a hand next to the controls.

  “In all likelihood, I will recognize none of your faces upon my return.”

  The captain said nothing as the propellers started up, a fierce wind following. He stood and watched the rear bay door completely shut before realizing he needed to return to his own post.

  Though the only thing separating Mari from the rats was but one door; sacks were still placed over their heads. The troops rushed through their work to get back to the battle, but they still paid mind to every precaution. A complete set of restraints for both the wrist and ankles were included, these being magnetically attached to the chair. Movement was, in a word, impossible. Sergeant Leroy and the others saluted Unit 37 before departing, and she returned a rigid show of respect. Once they were
gone, she slumped down into her chair. She decided the only thing to do was retire to sleep mode.

  ***

  Mari sat there on her bed, feeling more terrified than she had in her entire life. Her stomach was in knots and, quite honestly, she could have vomited. In her tidy school uniform and Mary Janes, she had no desire to be in any more trouble. She wanted to hide herself, even more so as she heard the sound of those familiar footsteps. Even with her blinds completely shut, their beaten state allowed the sun to shine its way in. Without even looking up, Mari could feel her mother’s presence in the doorway. Silently, the woman stepped closer, stopping a few feet short of the bed.

  “You can sit there and not say a word, but Sister Carmen told me everything. She even let me read it.”

  With some force, she slammed a single paper onto Mari’s small desk. It gave the child a jolt, but she still remained silent. Atop the wide ruled paper was a neatly written assignment title, overlooking two chunky paragraphs: Five Reasons I Love God.

  “Did you think it was funny, those disgusting things you wrote?!”

  Mari’s mouth moved to utter words, but nothing was let forth.

  “You don’t fool me, Marisol. Another child, I could see doing something like this, but you’re more than smart enough to know the lord loathes blasphemy. It is the worst sin you can commit! Not only that, the sisters also told me you never pray with the other children, not once since you’ve been there.”

  She stepped closer, looming over Mari. A small woman though she was, in the eyes of a child she was still a giant.

  “I need you to say something, mija, right now!”

  The little girl dug her fingers into her blanket.

  “I heard Papa talking about it all the time. He said there was no Devil, no God—’

  Before she could carry on a second more, she felt an explosion of pain against her face. It stung worse than any pain the girl had ever felt, tears instantly welling up. She looked up now to see her mother’s arm still raised. Surprisingly, she too was crying.

  “And look where that got him, Marisol! Look at what kind of man he is!”

  She knelt and embraced her daughter. Mari strangely found herself doing the same. She couldn’t explain it, but it was some profound compulsion that needed satisfaction. It took her a few seconds, but she wrapped her arms around her mother. The source of her fear and respect was also somehow her greatest comfort.

  “I am sorry, Marisol, but I want to see you at the gates more than anything else in this world. I can’t stand the thought of not seeing any of my children there.”

  ***

  Naval Air Station Pensacola, Florida

  Aliss watched from the Humvee as the C-17 Globemaster III began to descend on to the runway. It did so seamlessly. God fucking damn this shit. All around him were a good ten other Humvees and Bison heading for the plane at maximum speed. Less than an hour since we lost communication with them. Just a glitch in the tech. Everything’s fine. At about twelve meters, everyone came to a halt, and instantaneously Aliss leaped out of the vehicle. Every other vehicle had surrounded the plane as seventy troops, cyborg and man alike, rushed the aircraft. Within a minute, they had it completely encircled. Upon landing, the rear bay door began to open ominously.

  Aliss hated to admit it, especially in the afternoon sun, but this was set up to be a horror show. The soldiers beside him with their guns pointed at the bay door knew it too. The only thing missing was the cover of night. If 37 let loose with a barrage of bullets, there was no stopping a number of troops from being killed before she was brought down. This was inevitable. Still, everyone held steadfast.

  “Unit 37, I know you can hear me!” Aliss yelled. “What’s going on in there?! Is anyone hurt?”

  They all stood there not hearing a peep. Not a soul walked out of the plane, leaving everyone on edge. Aliss, no weapons drawn, walked ahead and right up to the foot of the ramp door. Many were amazed at his bravery but none drew closer with him.

  “This is Head Commander Aliss Howard, S.S.C. Unit 3-05. The party I’ve brought with me may have startled you, and for that I apologize. Can’t blame us for getting spooked when no one in that plane has responded to us.”

  The only response Aliss got was the passing wind.

  “Answer me, 37! Don’t make me come get you myself!”

  Fuck it. Aliss went up the ramp, and instantly he heard several dozen boots come following behind him. Straight-up fight or a simple talk, the soldier wanted action now. Arriving in the passenger area, however, he was left breathless. To leave the legend 3-05 breathless was a feat in itself, but it had been done.

  The only people left here were the two prisoners, still alive and with the sacks over their heads. They shook with fear as Aliss shook with rage. Even as he heard a soldier confirm to him that the two pilots were simply unconscious and not seriously injured, he trembled with unrivaled, inconceivable, rage. The soldiers under his command would tear the plane apart in search of her. In search of our dear 37. But you’re not here, and I know it.

  Aliss left the plane as the UNR soldiers did their work. He was the only one looking toward the ocean far away. Already, aircraft were zooming overhead to comb the waters but he knew it was too late. At least for now. One last trick up your sleeve; I’m impressed. You’ve managed to embarrass me. Aliss rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. You’ve only delayed our meeting.

  Chapter 14 - Mercy

  October 14, 2065 - Fort Hosbon, Ontario, Canada

  Goddamn this cold. Alex was ashamed to admit he hadn’t left the Garage in a few weeks now. His workshop had everything he needed, so going outside regularly never really came up. Today, though, was special. Behind him was Jacob, and Patrick, who was carrying a hefty suitcase.

  Already at the open field of grass was Gabby’s platoon. The group’s chattering ceased upon their approach. Their eyes widened upon realizing who was also in their midst. “Holy shit, it’s him,” a voice whispered. “The Wolf.”

  Will was also joining them. It was his first time seeing Gabby’s prized soldiers. He was startled to see all were practically kids. They wore Canadian military uniforms, but he was having trouble taking them seriously.

  Alex stopped in front of the platoon causing everyone behind him to do so as well. The soldiers saluted their superior officers, Jacob and Pat doing so also. Will and Alex did not salute, although for very different reasons.

  “Greetings, everyone, glad you all could make it,” Alex said.

  “Sir, where’s our C.O.?” Kurt asked. He wasn’t exactly thin but still had quite a bit of muscle. He stood close to Noah.

  “Your C.O. is on a recon mission with Captain Halsey. No further questions regarding that. At least for now.”

  “Yes, s—”

  Kurt saw Alex holding up a finger and decided to only nod.

  “What I do have to tell you is great news. Working every goddamn day and night with the help of Bri, in fact more her than myself, we have decided it’s time to unveil our latest project.”

  As Patrick opened the briefcase, Saskia had a look of pride on her face.

  “Bad Ass Bri does it again,” Noah said as Kurt offered a thumbs up.

  Brielle wasn’t particularly fond of being the center of attention, blushing actually. This didn’t stop her from smiling all the same. At last, Patrick got done putting in the last of the codes and opened the case. It was apparently heavy, because it took him a moment to get the right grip on it and lift the object. It was only a few seconds, but Will was nonetheless counting.

  What Pat held in his hands was as big as an M60 and had a similar shape. In contrast, it appeared clunky and at the end of its “barrel” was what looked like a satellite dish.

  “Where’d you dig up the toy? War of the Gargantuas?” Jacob snickered.

  Alex scoffed. From a pocket in his jacket he pulled out a small tablet.

  “Disregarding Jacob’s jokes, this is what you would call an EMP firearm. First of its kind.”
>
  “Hell of an upgrade from your grenade-based ones before,” Will analyzed.

  “Last time you called our bluff,” Alex admitted. “My first attempt was a simple stun technology. This pulse rifle generates a much more concentrated blast. It can hit targets 150 meters away with pinpoint accuracy. The stronger the blast the longer the charge time.”

  “But how effective is it?”

  Everybody gawked at Will’s bluntness.

  “A fifty percent charge is sufficient to shut down a cyborg’s critical systems. Basically, knock them out. At one hundred percent, the charge will burn out the electrical systems of its target. There is little to no chance of a cyborg surviving such a shot.”

  Above them, a Red-Shouldered Hawk had appeared. It peered down at them all as it circled. Patrick saw it coming and raised the pulse rifle. With the shoulder rest doing its job, despite the weight, he was as ready as ever in his standing position.

  “Alex?” he asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “You want your bird bloody or well done?”

  “Bubo was the first of my drones. I’d appreciate it if he’d fly again.”

  “Roger that.”

  Patrick pressed down on the trigger, which was followed by a high-pitched hum. With every second he held it down, the hum grew louder. At the same time, the target was flying overhead as majestic as ever, Pat following his movements.

  “Sorry, Bubo.”

  Patrick released his hold on the trigger. There was no flash of light or loud bang. Instead, the hum began to die down. Bubo suddenly flinched as if an arrow had struck him in the chest. Feathers came floating down as his wings fluttered erratically. Patrick and the others watched as the machine came crashing down in a smoking, sparking heap. It hit the ground in a patch of grass ten meters from the group, twitching only for a moment. Jacob walked over and stomped out any sparse flames. He looked over at Pat and gave him a thumbs up along with a big smile. Patrick returned the gesture. Alex, meanwhile, put a hand on his forehead.

  “You fucking guys…” he muttered.

  “Just over nine seconds for a max charge; not bad, I suppose,” Will noted.