by Alex Siegel
Ethel nodded sadly. "I've dealt with racism most of my life. I'll manage."
"Yes, ma'am. Where are Neal and the other legionnaires?"
"Flying on my jet to Chicago."
"What's going on?" Todd said. "Perry told us something about a war. It sounded crazy. The whole Society is there? Aaron is the acting legate?"
"Yes, and as soon as we rescue Roy, we'll go back. Hopefully, that won't take too long. I really shouldn't be here at all. Follow me." Ethel waved to the rest of her party and headed towards the door. "We have to change. The costume closet should have outfits in our sizes."
* * *
Aaron was studying a map displayed on one of Perry's giant computer screens. The map showed the Chicago metropolitan area, and red dots marked where military units were active. They were scattered in a more or less uniform manner. So far, the Army had followed the orders of the President faithfully. The expected generals were giving the expected commands. Soldiers were imposing martial law and quelling the chaos that had gripped the city. There was no evident focus on the Rosemont Tower Hotel. Nothing appeared amiss.
Aaron wasn't fooled. All those red dots could converge on the hotel in under an hour if the order were given. The enemy was clearly trying to lull him into a false confidence until the military deployment was complete. They would show their hand when they were ready to attack. Aaron would've done the same.
"How is the electronic warfare going?" he asked.
"Great, sir," Perry said. "The Army is all tied up in knots. We actually have units deploying in St. Louis. All their surveillance is blocked. I'm worried we're being too obvious. They must realize they're being sabotaged by now."
"True, but that doesn't mean you should let up. Tie them up in double-knots. Time is our ally. The longer we delay this fight, the better. Ideally, we can keep the Army off our backs until the twins finish the project."
"Then what happens?"
Aaron shrugged. "That's the million dollar question. The twins and Wesley know, but they're not telling, and I have a feeling I might not like the answer."
Jack's voice came through overhead speakers. "Commander, we have a security problem."
Aaron looked up. "What?"
"Long-range cameras have detected spies in the area."
"Show me on Perry's monitors."
One of the big displays switched to a live surveillance feed. The image showed two men crouched behind some bushes. They were armed with rifles and were looking through binoculars. White camouflage covered their bodies from head to toe, and in the visible spectrum, they were difficult to see against the snowy background. False-color infrared and ultraviolet overlays made them stand out clearly.
Aaron recognized the location as the parking lot of a neighboring office building. The spies were about a half-mile away.
"We blinded all the reconnaissance drones and satellites," Perry said. "Those systems are riddled with computer viruses. I guess the enemy is resorting to human eyeballs."
Aaron nodded. "Jack, how many are out there?"
"I've detected six so far, sir," Jack said. "I'll continue to search."
"Thanks. That's great work."
Perry gave Aaron a curious look. Aaron realized he had just complimented a machine.
He turned to Charles and said, "I feel like getting some fresh air and exercise. I need to work off some stress."
Charles shook his head. "Bad idea, sir. A legate doesn't engage in risky assignments by himself. He's too important."
"You'll be with me."
"I'm an old man."
"Who can make himself invisible," Aaron said.
"That's not enough protection for a man of your stature. You need a proper bodyguard."
"I'm just an acting legate."
"Acting or not," Charles said, "many people are depending on you for leadership. You have a pivotal role in what's to come. You can't risk your life on a minor assignment. Send a squad of legionnaires out. They enjoy getting shot at."
Aaron frowned. "Having an advisor isn't as much fun as I thought it would be."
"Actually, I'm starting to enjoy it. I get to state my opinion without being accountable for the consequences."
Aaron gave Charles a hard look.
Aaron considered who he wanted to send off to capture the spies. Smythe and Odelia were still greeting people in the lobby. Sheryl couldn't handle it on her own. Aaron would have to use legionnaires from another team in the division. Fortunately, he had that authority.
"Jack," he said, "is Yule here yet?"
"Room 1183, sir," Jack replied.
"Great! I wanted to say hello to him anyway."
Aaron walked out of his office. Wesley was still with the twins in the aperture assembly area. He was clearly providing moral support as they hurried through the final stages of the project. His protection team was off to the side and out of the way. Scientists were running around and fussing with the complex, high-tech equipment.
"Wesley," Aaron said, "I need your help for a bit. We're going to take some prisoners, and we need to get the truth out of them. That's your specialty."
"Sure," Wesley said cheerfully.
Aaron was surprised. The Child of Destiny wasn't usually so agreeable.
"Wonderful. Help me gather up some equipment, and then we'll head down."
* * *
Aaron knocked on the door of room 1183. A moment later it opened, and the commander of Los Angeles looked out.
Yule had such freakish eyes, seeing them was always a shock. They were three times larger than normal, yellow, and had vertical slit pupils. They made him look like a giant, mutant cat. Otherwise, he appeared to be a normal man. His brown hair was neatly combed. His face was cleanly shaved.
He immediately gave Aaron a manly hug. "Aaron! I was hoping I'd run into you! It's been far too long."
The last time they had seen each other in person was the convention last winter. Odelia had shuttled back and forth between Los Angeles and Chicago since then, but the commanders had remained home.
Yule looked to Aaron's left. "Charles? Is that really you?"
Charles shook Yule's hand. "I'm Aaron's advisor now. Mind if we come in?"
Yule stepped aside. Aaron and Charles entered, followed by Wesley, Yvonne, Guthrum, and Norbert. The latter was pushing a shopping cart loaded with body armor and weapons. The hotel room felt crowded.
Yule looked at Wesley. "Why is a child here?"
"I guess you've never met him," Aaron said. "This is the Voice of Truth."
Yule's face went slack, and his giant eyes grew even wider. "Good Lord..."
"Nice to meet you." Wesley offered his hand. "Your eyes are cool."
Yule shook it tentatively.
He recovered his composure and turned back to Aaron. "I heard a wild rumor that you were promoted."
"Only until the real legate comes back," Aaron said.
"Where is she? I trust she's all right."
"She's off trying to rescue the kidnapped President."
Yule furrowed his brow. "Shouldn't she be here? My team was trying to finish an ugly mission, and we came. We dropped everything and rushed to Chicago even though it was a terrible time to leave. I don't understand why the President deserves personal attention from the leader of our division. Doesn't he have the Secret Service? If it were really that important, she could've sent somebody else to save him."
Aaron smiled. "The truth is a little embarrassing, so don't spread it around, but you in particular will appreciate it. Ethel and Roy Haley are in love."
For a second time, Yule appeared stunned. Gradually, he began to smile. "That is the most deliciously ironic thing I've ever heard. She gave that huge speech about the dangers of love during the convention. She even split up you and Marina. God must be laughing His ass off."
"I'm sure. While she's away, I'm in charge, and I need you to do something for me."
"Anything, sir. Should I call you 'sir'?"
"That would be appropriate.
" Aaron walked across the hotel room and looked out the window. "Come here."
Yule joined him at the window.
Aaron pointed at a neighboring building. "Do you see those men hiding in the bushes over there? I can't see them, but your amazing eyes should be able to."
Yule's giant eyeballs stared. When he blinked, Aaron could hear his eyelids smack together.
"Yes," Yule said. "Clear as day."
"Great. I want you and your team to capture those spies for me. Bring them into the hotel for interrogation. But be discreet. Other spies are watching, and we don't want them to realize their comrades have been snatched. I brought some equipment in case you didn't have enough of your own." Aaron pointed at the shopping cart full of weapons.
"Sending a team from Southern California out in this weather seems a bit cruel. I was just getting warm again in this wonderful hotel. It's a frozen version of Hell out there. But we'll do it, sir."
Aaron smiled. "Welcome to Chicago. I'm glad you're here."
* * *
Aaron was standing in the basement. Giant hunks of equipment rattled and hummed all around. Pipes were everywhere, and some were big enough to crawl through. The lighting was intentionally disorienting. The basement was a labyrinth, and any unlucky soul who made the wrong turn would stumble into a trap. The staff of the hotel knew which areas were safe and which were forbidden.
Charles, Wesley, and the protection team were with Aaron. They were waiting for the arrival of the prisoners.
Aaron was using the quiet time to think and plan. "We have a logistical problem," he stated.
"Oh?" Charles said.
"Most of the legionnaires didn't come properly equipped for a fight. The airlines are annoyingly picky about keeping weapons off of planes." Aaron furrowed his brow. "We'll have to steal equipment from the Army to supply our own troops."
"Sounds like a fine idea. More for us, less for them."
"The devil is in the details. Once we start making aggressive moves, the enemy will be forced to respond, and the shit storm will begin. I want to have a complete battle plan in mind first. It's like a chess game. Every piece has to participate in the overall strategy, and right now, I'm not sure what that strategy should be. I'm not even sure if it's my job to come up with the strategy."
Wesley was looking at Aaron. The boy's sparkling blue eyes had a mysterious appearance in the dim light.
"Can you give me a hint?" Aaron said.
"When Marina gets here," Wesley said, "we're going to have a special meeting, and you'll get some answers. Things will change."
"I'm not sure I like the sound of that."
Wesley winked.
Aaron heard a mechanical rumble. The garage door leading into the basement was opening. A sudden blast of bright sunlight made him squint, and freezing air made him shiver. If anything, the weather outside was only getting worse.
A blue van drove into the garage and parked in front of Aaron. The garage door closed.
Yule and three of his legionnaires climbed out of the van. All of them were dressed in white camouflage cloaks draped over black and gray body armor.
"Any trouble?" Aaron said.
"No, sir," Yule said. "They never saw us coming."
Two prisoners were retrieved from the back of the van. Coils of ropes secured their arms and legs. They were also wearing white camouflage, but it was integrated into their body armor. The prisoners had been stripped of their weapons and equipment.
They were placed on the concrete floor. Yule removed cloth gags from their mouths.
Wesley came forward. Yule's legionnaires stared at him with wide eyes. Obviously, they had never met the Voice of Truth before.
"Who are you?" Wesley asked the prisoners in his delightfully musical voice.
He locked gazes with one of the soldiers. The man's muscles clenched as if he were being electrocuted. His face began to twitch.
"Sergeant Scott Skinner."
"What were you doing out there?" Wesley said.
Skinner was squirming. He was clearly struggling to keep his mouth shut, but he had no chance against Wesley's titanic gift.
"Observing the Rosemont Tower Hotel."
"Why?"
"Orders," Skinner said.
"What were those orders exactly?" Wesley said.
"To observe and report any suspicious activity."
"Report to who?"
Skinner's whole body was shaking with the effort to resist. A urine stain formed on his crotch.
"I don't know," Skinner said.
"I want a better answer than that." Wesley stared at him.
"We were issued Red Eye radios. All communication is anonymous. When we make our reports, we don't know who we're talking to."
Aaron looked at Yule and said, "Did you bring their equipment?"
"Of course," Yule said.
He went into the van and came back out carrying two black garbage bags. They clanked when he moved. He emptied the bags onto the floor.
Aaron sorted through the pile, and most of it was standard gear. He found a red device that looked like an old-fashioned walkie-talkie. The speaker and microphone were obvious, and the only buttons were for power and transmission.
Aaron took it over to Skinner and said, "How do you use this? I don't see a frequency selector."
The soldier clenched his jaw.
"Answer the question," Wesley said.
Skinner moaned with anguish. "Get out of my head, you little fucker!"
"Answer the question," Wesley repeated in a firm tone.
"It identifies the user with a retinal scan. Then you just talk."
Aaron looked more closely at the device. He found a small lens surrounded by a ring of red LEDs. It was clearly the retinal scanner.
"How do you pick who to talk to?" he asked.
"You don't," Skinner said. "The radio only connects to an approved operator."
"And who is that? Who do you report to?"
"I don't know. He's just a voice."
"That's annoying," Aaron said. "How do you know you're talking to the right person?"
"Red Eye only connects to the right person. That's the point. I can trust who I'm talking to without knowing who it is."
Aaron understood the elegantly simple system. Soldiers could make reports and receive orders without ever putting their comrades or commanders at risk. If the radio fell into enemy hands, it was useless.
"Are there any other security measures?" he said.
"I think it uses my voice print to double-check my identity," Skinner said.
"Lovely."
Wesley put the same questions to the other captive and got the same answers. There was no question he was telling the truth. It was physically impossible to lie to Wesley.
Finally, everybody stepped away.
"Well," Aaron said, "at least we confirmed the Army is interested in this hotel. I'll take this gadget up to my headquarters." He held up the Red Eye radio. "Maybe my hacker can do something useful with it."
"What do you want to do with the prisoners, sir?" Yule said.
Aaron looked at the two soldiers.
"I'm hungry," Yvonne said.
He turned to the female member of Wesley's protection team. Her face was so flushed, he could see the blood vessels pulsing under her skin. Her muscles bulged like overinflated water balloons. She was constantly swinging her hands or shuffling her feet with excess energy.
"You want to eat now?" he said in horror.
She nodded. "If we're going to have a fight, I need to be at peak strength."
He looked at the two soldiers lying on the floor. "Wesley, what's your opinion?"
"They're fated to die tonight," Wesley said. "We might as well feed them to Yvonne."
Aaron winced. "That's an ugly thing for a child to say. Go ahead, Yvonne, but you have to clean up afterwards. I don't want your disgusting leftovers in my basement. Norbert knows where the cleaning supplies are."
Norbert had a tight jaw. He was
clearly having second thoughts about working with Yvonne as part of the protection team.
She walked over to the soldiers and put her hands on their necks. The men immediately twisted their bodies into contorted positions. She could grow roots out of her palms and into the flesh of her enemies. As Aaron watched, her victims shriveled like fruit left in the sun. Their eyeballs were sucked back into their skulls. He heard a crunching noise as even the bones were digested. Her muscles swelled as nutrient rich fluids rushed into them.
The flow reversed, and Yvonne began to dump waste into the bodies. A material that looked like burnt stew trickled out of their misshapen mouths. It stank like rotten fish.
One of Yule's legionnaires threw up. Aaron shook his head. More mess to clean up.
"Come on," he told Charles. "I have to show this radio to Perry. Maybe he can hack it somehow."
The two of them walked away.
* * *
General Walker looked down on a scene of chaos in the command bunker. Every console operator was working frantically. The Gray Spear Society had disrupted the operation far more effectively than he had thought possible. Communication links were down all over. Convoys were headed in the wrong directions. Viruses were running amok in supposedly secure military computer networks. Critical supplies had gone missing. The operators had lost contact with pretty much every asset in the air or in space. Drones were dropping out of the sky because they couldn't be instructed to land and refuel properly.
The Red Eye radios were helping, but they had to be hand-delivered to key officers in the field. The ice and snow on the streets were making that slow process even slower. It wouldn't be done until after nightfall.
This disruption was more than just an inconvenience. It was putting the whole timetable at risk.
Walker turned to Erika. She was lying on her bed, and her four male slaves were bathing her with their tongues as if they were big cats. She was just wearing panties, but her near nudity didn't seem to embarrass her.
"What do you want to do?" Walker said. "It's going to take at least several more hours to untangle this mess. Our deployment is in total disarray. If we want to attack tonight, we may have to use a much smaller force than originally planned."