Super World

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Super World Page 45

by Lawrence Ambrose


  "Neat. They need teachers here."

  Something was building in Jamie's head, and she wasn't sure she liked it, but then Mort had told her to trust her instincts.

  "Rick."

  He turned back to her from the window, a cautious edge to his smile. "Now you're going to tell me you really were a 300 pound male truck driver in your former life?"

  "Nothing quite that mundane. No, I was going to ask how you feel about your country. I know you said it's going to hell..."

  "I was one of those dumb hicks who still believed in God and country. I put my life on the line for that in Iraq..." He released a deep breath that almost was a growl. "But as I said, that's all in the past now."

  "You no longer care about your country?"

  "Of course I do. I love my country. And if I thought I could have done something to stem the tide..."

  "What if you still could?"

  He stared at her. "What are you talking about, Jamie?"

  Now she moved past him and took her turn gazing down at the town and the Terry Redlin countryside below. She needed to think this through before saying more, instincts or no.

  "You never told me why you came here," he said to her back. "I'm starting to get the feeling it wasn't finding a new life in paradise."

  "If I ask you to keep something between us, can I trust you to keep your word?"

  "On my life. Even if I can't die."

  "Well, I'm asking."

  "All right. You have my word."

  Jamie took in a deep breath and turned back to him. She was about to do the very thing she'd ordered her people not to do. But maybe those were the perks of being a superior officer?

  "You're right that I didn't come here to be in paradise," she said. "I came here to take this place down."

  Rick's grin developed a crooked edge. "You're going to take down heaven?"

  "My boss called it 'storming the gates of heaven'."

  Rick leaned back on his table, crossing his arms across his chiseled chest, staring at her. "Are you being serious?"

  "Yes." She almost added: Unfortunately.

  "Didn't you just say you taught biology and math in high school?"

  "I was a high school teacher before the Super Virus. After that, I ended up working for DARE in its Interdiction and Enforcement Division."

  The way Rick's mouth was hanging open, Jamie suspected his jaw might be unhinged.

  "While investigating the missing people, we discovered that certain members of the Last Days church, including Brian Loving, have the ability to open gateways to unknown destinations. My team and I entered through one of those gateways."

  "You're a government agent."

  "Yes."

  "I thought only the faithful and pure of heart were allowed to come here."

  "Does that describe you? You don't seem exactly holier than thou."

  "Can't say anyone ever described me that way," he chuckled. "But I guess I was good enough for the local Last Days priest to send through."

  "I guess my people and I were, too."

  Rick issued a gravelly chuckle and shook his head. "So the United States Government is invading Heaven. Typical hubris."

  "This isn't Heaven. It's fake – an illusion. We're in a virtual reality program."

  "You think this is fake?" He held up his hands. "My palms are sweating, just as they always do when I'm around a girl I'm attracted to."

  "No disrespect to your sweaty palms, but it's fake because in reality you die if you wrap a rope around your neck and hang all day."

  Rick's mouth curled in distaste. "Yeah, that was ugly. But a successful suicide or murder is even uglier. The fact that we can't die here doesn't mean it's fake."

  "You know the Object was an alien artifact?"

  "Sure. Everyone knows that."

  "Well, there's another alien artifact – a gigantic space ship – parked outside Mars. Or it was. NASA spotted it and I saw it for myself, up close and personal."

  "No kidding. The aliens are here?"

  "Right here." She tapped the windowsill. "We're standing in the virtual world they created."

  "You know that for a fact?"

  "Um, no. It's our leading theory at the moment."

  "Why do you think they're doing this? Why makes us super-powerful and then kidnap us?"

  "We're not sure. We think there may be a faction in their society that opposes this program. This wasn't publicized, but there was a warning in the Object, telling us that the new powers were intended to oppose the alien agenda."

  "This is crazy."

  "Crazier than churches popping up out of nowhere recruiting people to enter paradise? That's just a coincidence? And whatever happened to having to die before going to heaven? I don't know about you, but that's what I learned in Sunday school."

  Rick shuffled up from his kitchen table and crossed the room to a large bottle of brown liquid perched on the windowsill.

  "You want some sun tea?"

  "Sure. Thanks."

  He poured them both a tall glass.

  "Are you with me, Rick?"

  "I have to admit I was hoping to be with you. Maybe you'd be the mother of my children." He handed her a glass of tea. "I wasn't thinking about joining an anti-Heaven revolution."

  "People can have children here?"

  "Hell, yes. Several of the women here are pregnant. So how does someone fake that – or giving birth and raising a child?"

  "I have no idea. They probably have technology beyond anything we can even dream about."

  "And you want to take them down."

  "We have to try, don't we? We can't just do nothing while some alien race screws with us."

  Her host turned the glass in his hand, reflecting shards of sunlight from the windows onto the walls.

  "We could really use your help, Rick," she said. "Your country could use your help."

  "Do you have any proof you are who you say you are?"

  "I have an Interdiction and Enforcement team with me." She thought of something. "Also the man himself, Brian Loving. He's the one who brought us in, though he wasn't supposed to come with us."

  "Brian Loving is here?"

  "Yes. Down in the town with my people. We're supposed to meet in" – she checked her wrist, but her watch was missing – "an hour or so. They'll verify what I'm telling you."

  Rick paced back and forth, seeming to follow the slats of light on the bare wood floor. After a while he joined her by the front windows and peered out into the waning daylight.

  "You know, Jamie, I was kind of looking forward to living forever."

  "I know. But it's not real, Rick."

  "Who are you to say what's real?"

  Jamie set her glass of tea down on the kitchen table. It was looking like she'd made a mistake, that Rick Lambert wasn't willing to renounce a future he obviously craved. She had a feeling that would apply to most if not everyone here. Not that she could see how Rick or anyone else could help the mission even if they accepted the truth.

  "I believe you're who you say you are," he said quietly. "And I know you believe you're right. The thing is, even if you are, what could we do about it? And are you really sure we should? Maybe it's an illusion or we're on another planet or something, but the people here – this life we're all building together – it is real, isn't it?"

  "I don't know. I only know that the Object's message clearly told us we would be dealing with a hostile force and that we were modified in order to fight it. So that's what I'm going to do."

  "Well, good luck. And I will keep my promise about not telling anyone."

  "Thank you." She shook his outstretched hand. "Good luck to you, too."

  Jamie walked back down to town disappointed in herself. One charming, good-looking guy, and she felt compelled to spill her guts. She was the commander of an elite commando unit, not some dingbat girl.

  Still, what did I lose by telling him? If he kept his word, no one would be the wiser. If he didn't...what harm, exactly, would th
at do?

  A massive crowd had gathered outside THE SAINTLY SPIRITS a couple of blocks into town. Work on the various construction projects along Main Street had ceased, and judging from the number of people wearing tool belts in the crowd whatever was going on inside the tavern had dragged them and everyone else away from work.

  Her team was waiting there, too, huddled together on the fringes of the gathering. Tildie gave her a happy wave and the others seemed relieved to see her.

  "What's going on?" she asked.

  "It's Brian Loving," said Tildie. "Culler had the bright idea of stopping at the bar and seeing if we could get a drink. The bartender was okay with one free drink, but he insisted on us introducing ourselves. When Loving told them his name –"

  "The dork just about shot his wad," said Belinda. "The word spread, and pretty soon everyone in the whole damn town started showing up."

  "We tried to drag him out of there," said Jake, "but he said he was comfortable where he was. We decided not to make a scene. I'll bet that piece of shit is ratting us out right now, turning the whole fucking town against us."

  "At least we gotta couple free beers and sandwiches out of the deal," said Horner. "Who cares if he flaps his mouth about us. What are they gonna do? Send some angels to arrest us?"

  "Maybe they could stone us or something," said Tildie. "You did notice, Unincredible Hulk, that we don't have any super powers? They could totally kick our asses if they wanted to."

  "But apparently they couldn't kill us," said Jamie. "I was talking to a girl at the Visitor Center who said one of the local women tried to hang herself. She hung there for a day – apparently suffering a lot of pain - before someone found her."

  Tildie felt her throat. "God, that sounds awful."

  "On the other hand, think of the potential for kinky sex." Jake dodged an elbow from Belinda. Thomas Mayes let out a low snicker.

  Jamie couldn't help feeling a small note of relief. Brian Loving had just erased any damage she might've done with Rick Lambert.

  "Let's move out of town," she said, "in case they decide to tar and feather us or something."

  She decided to head for familiar if not necessarily friendly ground, back toward Rick Lambert's home. They could watch how things developed in town from that hill.

  Somehow it seemed inevitable when Rick came strolling down the path toward them. He stopped and so did she and her group.

  "Hi," he said, looking them over and getting cool stares from Jake and Greg in return. "Were you coming up to see me?"

  "No," said Jamie. "We just wanted to get out of town – somewhere we could keep an eye on what's happening down there."

  "Looks like quite a ruckus over something."

  "Brian Loving introduced himself at a local bar."

  "Oh. That explains it." Rick's smile contracted as he looked over the others. "This must be your team."

  Jamie swallowed as the others stared at her.

  "Team?" Jake's voice sounded like a rusty saw. A pissed off rusty saw. "You told this civilian dweeb about us?"

  "I..." She shrugged in resignation. "Yeah, I did."

  "After that bullshit about keeping our mouths shut?"

  "I made an executive decision. I got the feeling I could trust him, and we need someone to work with here."

  "You can trust me," said Rick. "And I don't appreciate being called a dweeb."

  "Ah, we hurt his leetle feelings," Horner mock-whimpered. "Too bad we don't have a big hanky for him to cry into!"

  Rick surprised Jamie by laughing. Horner and Culler exchanged looks.

  "You rude sons a bitches are ex-military, right?"

  "How did you know?" Jake asked.

  "Because you're so friendly and so damn cute."

  The two former Marines looked as if they'd been slapped. Then small smiles broke out.

  "Did that pretty boy just call us cute?" Horner said, clasping his face and batting his eyes in shock.

  "I believe John Revolta just did."

  "The angels, in their divine wisdom, made me look this way. What's your excuse?"

  Jake and Greg responded with low chuckles.

  "You served, I take it," said Jake.

  "Third Infantry. I was on the first ride into Baghdad in '03."

  "Second Recon Battalion." Horner tapped his chest. "2008-13."

  "Twenty-fourth MEF," said Jake. "About the same stretch."

  Rick stepped forward and they shook hands with a sharp, manly slapping of flesh. Rick nodded to the others, receiving a big, approving smile from Belinda.

  "I hear you people are planning to invade paradise," he said.

  "Jeez," Jake growled. "Is there anything you didn't tell this grunt, Commander Shepherd?" He said her title as if a demotion was in the works.

  "She didn't tell me the phone number for your mom's brothel."

  "Funny."

  "As I said, I believed I could trust him, and we desperately need some intel."

  "Did you get any?" Jake cocked a skeptical eyebrow at the ex-infantry man.

  "I learned some things."

  Tildie turned to her. "Did you tell him about the aliens?"

  "Yes," Rick answered, "she mentioned something about that, and about this place being an illusion."

  "And you aren't buying that," Belinda stated.

  Rick shrugged. "I'm not sure what to believe." His gaze moved to Jamie. "But I will say this. After some thought, I'm a lot less skeptical than I was."

  "So are you with us?" asked Jake.

  Rick stared past them for a moment – a "thousand yard stare" - his handsome actor's face showing nothing. "I'll get back to you on that. For now, I'll go down there and see what's going on and get back to you later, if you're all right with that."

  "That would be great," said Jamie, ignoring the Mayhem Twins' sour scowls. "Thank you. We'll just be up on the hill, if that's okay."

  "No problem."

  They hiked to the top of the hill and settled down in the grass where she and Rick had admired the view. They couldn't see much around the tavern, but a stream of people approaching from the other end of town spoke of some special event.

  Jamie stretched out on the soft grass, floating on waves of fatigue and hunger. Unlike the others, she hadn't eaten all day, and her empty stomach rumbled bitter recriminations. So strange to feel human again. If it was all an illusion, it was masterful beyond imagination. And to cancel out all their powers? How had they accomplished it? It was half-tempting to think that maybe they were dealing with an all-powerful supernatural being.

  Jamie didn't know she was asleep until approaching footsteps and rustling in the grass around her made her open her eyes. Rick walked up carrying a large cardboard box, and stooped beside her.

  "I thought you might be hungry," he said, handing her a huge sandwich and a tall bottle of some dark drink. "You never ate or drank when your friends did."

  "Thanks. You must've been reading my hungry thoughts."

  The team looked on enviously as she chomped down on the sandwich – a wild berry/leafy green medley that was possibly the best thing she'd ever tasted. Rick passed around the box, and there was something to drink and eat for everybody.

  "What's going on down there?" Jake asked.

  "The word's out that you're DARE agents here to bring this place down," Rick said. "People are either outraged or just think it's laughable. Some want to banish you from Eden, others want to talk to you. Brian was describing you as people so 'caught up in materialistic beliefs they can't see the paradise in front of their noses' – something like that - when I walked up. He's urging compassion and forgiveness."

  "Nice of him," Jay muttered.

  "That boy's smooth with the words, I'll give him that," said Thomas.

  "He's just another goddamn shyster," said Jake. "Just like you."

  "I'm gonna make you regret your big mouth, peckerwood, I promise you that."

  "Any time, asshole, any time."

  Jamie gave Rick a long-suffering look
and resumed consuming her sandwich. The bottled drink tasted like root beer, though with an alcoholic aftertaste. She spilled some on her blouse and church bells clanging below startled her.

  "He must've really got them riled up," said Rick. "Now they're gathering at the church."

  "Will they be showing up here with pitchforks and torches?" Tildie asked.

  "I doubt it." But his smile held a note of uncertainty. "This a pretty peaceful bunch. Not that we don't have disagreements - people arguing over property lines or wages or other stuff."

  "What do you do when that happens?" Jamie asked.

  "We have a sheriff, a couple of deputies, and a city council that deals with conflicts, pretty much how it happens back home. People have left the city in a huff and even come to blows. We caught a thief – a newbie – last week. A lot of people have trouble wrapping their heads around how much it's like home. Though the Last Days literature spelled most of this out, it just isn't how they imagined Heaven would be."

  "Why even bother leaving Earth?" said Belinda.

  "Well, there's the little thing about living forever. And being young again. Also, people don't get sick. It may not seem like a big deal to someone who's already young – they already think they're immortal - but it's a world of difference for someone who's been sick or old. About the only way you get hurt here is if you bring it on yourself."

  Belinda made a skeptical noise. "Not a lot could hurt me back there. I could run thirty miles an hour, lift shit with my mind, and burn up shit I didn't like. I didn't get hungry or thirsty or tired much, either. I was practically a god. Goddess. This place fucking sucks. You're practically back in the Stone Ages."

  Rick chuckled. "I kind of miss being so much stronger, too, though I never had your powers. You people are, what, Class 2? Class 1?"

  "All Class 1," said Jake. "Jamie and my gorilla-like friend here are Apex. Maybe Jay, too, depending how you measure it. We're the elite of the elite, partner." His smirk curdled. "Or we were."

  "Wait a second." Rick was suddenly regarding them with fresh eyes. "Are you the guys I've been hearing about – the elite 'DIE' unit that fought the terrorists in San Francisco when that nuke went off? I was already here, but newcomers have talked about it."

  "Yeah," said Tildie, with a longing sigh. "That was us."

 

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