by P. S. Power
Kyle, who was sitting at a decent looking wooden desk, picked up a file and waved it a bit.
"We have everything here. So that won't be a real problem. Our lawyers are coming now, along with a news crew, so that should keep anything too bad from happening." He didn't speak about how, if it wasn't enough that Ben would be off to prison. Jail at least, until things could be cleared up.
It was not a thing he was looking forward to, personally.
Lissa gasped however, as the idea hit her.
"No! I can't take that!"
It was a bit selfish sounding, but oddly enough Mags nodded, agreeing with the chair bound woman.
"No shit. This is the first time in years that my head hasn't felt like someone was trying to force it open from the inside. I can take it again, if I have to, but letting some innocent man be taken for no reason, just to punish me..." She seemed to get that wasn't the real situation, but her face went hard anyway. There was more knife clutching then.
In the light Ben could see that it was a steak knife, like what the others had used in the dining hall. Sharpened however, so all the serration along the edge was gone. The handle was real wood and matched the others there however, so he was willing to bet that was where it had originally come from.
Micha was a lot more silent and stood back, leaving the grown up portion of the day's events to Kyle and Glenda. She did not seem happy with the possible fallout of the whole thing, so nodded, looking at the women.
"We may not get a choice. In that case, we need you to be on perfect behavior, Ben. Be polite and monk-like the whole time." She seemed worried on that score, which was fair enough.
Ben was as well.
"That... Pretty much won't be happening." He didn't have time to explain how he felt, but Kyle simply took a deep breath, then nodded.
"Understood. I don't have anything better for you yet. Hold on and let's see if we can work this out first? Right now we need to get some people out of here. Glenda, will you and Ali see about that? Carlos, I need to go over our secondary plans with you, just in case."
It seemed that he and the psychic crew, or most of it, were being dismissed.
The idea that he should just run away came to mind about then. It wasn't from himself either, but coming, with a good bit of focus behind it, from Carlos. As Ben got further from the man, that thought got louder. It was either that Ben ran then, or killed himself, before the police could set that up for him. Thankfully Carlos didn't think either was really needed, since Kyle and Glenda would have things in hand.
It was a thing to keep in mind though, if he were taken. Dying wasn't the option he wanted, but if you were going to be killed anyway, there might well be less painful ways to go. The thing there was that he didn't really know how to do any of them. A gun in the mouth, or slashing his wrists. That only worked if he had the right tools for the job however. Hanging might be an option, but it probably wouldn't be that much fun. None of them would be.
The angst, worry and fear coming off of him were so strong that Micha finally broke down and touched his arm.
"No. There has to be another way. We just need to... Think first. We've all been responding so far. We don't have time for much else, but..."
That was the real problem, and Ben knew it too. If things weren't being set up to force them to do the wrong things, then it wouldn't be a problem. They were, as far as he knew, a totally above board project. So far. One day that would end, suddenly and hard, but until that point, the Cymeds were a harmless bunch of cranks. Not anyone that should be pushed into destruction.
Kent had to get his arrests in though, so that he could rest assured his career path would grow, or whatever he thought he was doing. As far as Ben had ever heard, you didn't get paid more for being a top cop. Maybe if you were the Captain or whatever, but not just for being famous or having a lot of arrests.
So it wasn't about that. Just prestige in his own little fucked up federal agent world.
Though, that was something. It was the police that were coming in, not the feds. Kent had to be part of a big operation in order to be placed under with them for so long. He wasn't a local cop. That very idea was just insane.
Ben felt more than a little bit upset, and started to shake, knowing that people were coming for him. Understanding that it might end up with him dying. He tried to hide his fear, since the others all had to leave first. Then, he decided, that crying and possibly getting sick was in order. The whole thing was going to be hard for Lissa and Mags, too. Micha as well.
The trick there was a lot different than what Ben had figured would happen. For some reason he'd thought of gray clad people running off on foot, into the night. They might have done so using far greater than human speed as well. Instead...
They chartered two busses. Nice ones. They were taking everyone away for a night in a hotel, about fifty miles away. It wasn't fleeing from the police, since as luck would have it, they hadn't bothered to come yet. Not even a courtesy call, to suggest they have their papers in order. That was a mistake on the part of the government though, since the laws hadn't really been written to consider the fact that some people might be able to read minds, or predict what was going to happen.
Everyone loaded up quickly, with Lissa, Micha and Clark on one bus, and Mags being on the other. The woman had even given up her little knife, of her own free will. Mainly because she kind of figured that she was going to have some massive problems when things hit her again. All of their psychics had been given sedatives however, to help keep them calm. The only one that didn't get that kind of thing was him.
As they drove out of the front gate, on the south side, the electric motors purring gently, everything hit him again. All the thoughts and feelings that had been silent for him before that. People being worked up didn't help, since it was an awful lot like he'd suddenly become fifty new people. Each of them scrambling to get things done, at one time. There was no way for him to track them all, which worked for Ben. He just needed to focus on the ones around him. The people that were actually worried about him.
On the good side, he wasn't totally alone that way. Several other people were being picked on as well, and most of them actually had more reason for it.
One of the women standing there looked mildly bemused when she glanced over at Ben. She was fit looking, but not muscle bound or big that way. Tall, for a lady, and about fifty or so, from the way her face looked. There were some lines, but they weren't bad or anything. When she saw him looking back, she smiled.
"I got a speeding ticket about twenty years ago. I swear I paid it, but they're going to be saying otherwise? I can't really pull out the receipt now, so I'll probably have to pay it again? The statute of limitations was removed on failure to pay the state, so that won't work as an excuse. They don't have a warrant however. You?" She seemed curious. It was a slightly nervous thing however. Then, for her, it would be no more than a night or two in a holding cell. At the very most.
"Genetics lottery? I'm a clone. They're probably going to use that to falsely claim I was wanted on child trafficking, even though those charges were always false. Damning though. They killed my dad, before they cleared him of it, so they didn't take anything off the books."
Those words got a bit of a strange look, and a nod. Ben didn't bother going into all of it however. Odds were she'd get to hear it all again after just a little bit.
All the supposed bad people were right up front, to make it easy for the people coming to find them. There were three others. Two of them were there for being late on child support payments, but again, both of those were old claims. The last man just shook his head when asked about it.
"I don't know."
Except that he did. He was there undercover, for the FBI. They were planning to use this bit of harassment to solidify his position inside the Cymed operation. Not that it would work. Even if no one had known about him before, they would as soon as Ben could talk to someone about it. It was just the people to be punished for b
eing there, Kyle and for some reason, Glenda. Why she hadn't left... Well, that would be down to her position there. She was kind of in charge of some aspects of things, after all.
They got to wait for a very long time, since midnight came and went without the police showing up. Ben would have figured that they were going to just not show, except that a vision of it happening flashed before his eyes. There were bright flashing lights, and several vehicles in his head. Nearly twenty of them. The men that got out were all just in regular uniforms. Not even unpowered body armor. They didn't pull guns either, just... Clipboards.
That was hard for him to understand, but about half a minute after he'd seen it inside his head, it played out again, for real this time.
Almost as if by magic, three regular cars that hadn't been in the vision came in right behind the police. Kyle leaned over, and whispered to Glenda. The man in charge, Kyle, was still totally unreadable, but he picked up from Glenda what was said. That the people in the regular cars were the lawyers. Their people, come to help prevent horrible things.
In fact, one of the vehicles, a nice silvery blue one that was big enough to be expensive, pulled up right in front of the line of trouble makers. The man that got out was wearing a nice suit, all in what seemed to be gray, possibly with a light silver sheen, and had deep black hair that was cut in a tidy and professional style. He even had an old fashion document case, like a lawyer or business man from an old VR. That was black and made of a material that was supposed to seem like leather. Not that anyone used that for things any longer. There were better options after all than the skin of a dead animal. Most constructed polymers were stronger, lighter and some could be made to look like nearly anything you wanted.
This man had a strange look to him however. Young, seeming to be about thirty or so, and very fit, but in a different manner than most of the people around him. As he walked up there was a bit of uncertainty in his steps, and while his voice was very youthful sounding the words didn't match up with it. Inside... He felt old. Older than Glenda did, for all he looked like he could have stepped off of a virt display. Nothing about him seemed right either. His face was smiling, but his eyes took in everything, for instance.
There was no speaking from him, other than saying hello to everyone and then whispering about things with Kyle over to one side for a bit while the police stormed up. Regular cops, dressed in their daily work clothes.
As one of them, backed by about ten others came over, hands on their side arms, or stunners, the strange seeming lawyer moved in front of them all, like he was planning to protect them with his body.
"Officers! So nice of you to come and visit. The warrant you have has already been overturned. Being that it was sought on false premise, I'm certain you can all understand why. This facility is checked regularly and is running by legal pharma standards." He looked like he was about to say something else, when the man in front grumbled at him. He had more than one piece of paper on his clip board.
That part was interesting to see. The man had real paper with him, that had writing on it. That wasn't impossible of course, since it was still used occasionally, but it pretty much had to be some kind of legal thing that required it in a case like this one. Otherwise it would be on a pad.
"We'll check that. Who are you?"
"Winston Mills. Of Gurney, Lancaster and Mills. My associates and myself were made aware of false claims being brought against these people, in an attempt to deprive them of their right to practice the religion of their choice? Since they go out of their way to be open and allow nearly constant investigation, that came as something of a surprise to us, as you might imagine. Now, I understand you also are attempting to make up charges against some of them, for that same purpose? There will be a law suit over this. Just so you understand the situation at hand. Shall we get to that now?"
"We don't do anything until I say we do. First we call in on that search warrant. The rest of you keep your hands in the open. This isn't right."
The man used simple language, and wasn't exactly the smartest person ever. Ben could tell that from what was going on in his head. He also wasn't all that corrupt or anything negative like that. The job had been passed to his people, a favor for the NSA, who'd hinted that they were asking for someone else that had a man inside the compound. The officer, who went by the name of Jim, even though it didn't fit his real self image, didn't know who that was, himself.
In short they were being used as tools, to collect up people. It was clearly harassment, but the Chief had sent them out, so they did what they were supposed to.
Which meant they had to wait twenty minutes for notification to be called in that the warrant had indeed been rescinded. The main one. That was good to hear, but didn't get any of the rest of them off the hook. The thing there was that the ladies didn't have warrants out. There was some old paperwork they needed to take care of, but Winston Mills just gave Jim a look that made it seem like he was about to be spanked when that came up.
"That will be part of the suit we bring." The words from the good looking, but wrong seeming, older man were nearly whispered.
The words instantly got them to the warrants for the back child support payments. After a few minutes, Winston was actually chuckling over that.
"I see. So one of these is for ten dollars and fourteen cents, and the other for thirty-five cents? Also, I can't help but notice that there are no time stamps on these? On either of them? Brick's law requires any claim of child support being in arrears to have a clean trail of notification. I don't see that here. In fact, you can't actually use this to show that these pennies are owed at all." That was a very strange and old term.
Pennies. Those hadn't been used in nearly fifty years. Even that was a guess. Ben had seen some, since his father had a collection of old coinage and even some paper bills. They were worthless, but interesting to look at. Pretty in a way.
It was a strange thing to remember. Ben was standing in a line, waiting for the police to arrest him for the crime of being born. That the child support guys had been dealt with in a way that made the main officer blush, and the tickets handled in the same kind of fashion, left only two people to deal with. Jim wasn't planning to let them go nearly as easily. Not for cause, just because his dick had been trampled by Winston, and he felt small. That wasn't a thing he cared for, so the man was getting ready to fight.
Even if it was stupid.
Not physically, no. That would be illegal, and the man wasn't that big of a moron. What he could do was insist that the last two people be held for forty-eight hours. That wasn't illegal after all, and if there was a bullshit lawsuit for that, well, these Cymed creepers would lose. The cops didn't have to answer for doing their jobs.
To his credit Winston seemed to see it coming, and waved for the people in the other two cars to come forward. Ben had been distracted and figured them for other lawyers. They weren't however. At least they came out with camera gear. The good kind that floated above their heads, the black and white casings saying that they were from channel seven and the YT Network. YT was international, and everyone watched it, since it got content from pretty much everyplace.
"Are you certain you wish to falsely arrest a man for simply being a clone? One of an innocent man that died in custody, on false charges? I'm nearly certain that won't play well in middle America."
There was a hard look from Jim the police officer, and a shake of the head.
"That doesn't matter. The warrant lines up, and we have to take him in. It isn't up to my discretion. You can meet us down at the station. We have some people that want to talk to you, Epson. Come on." The words weren't meant to indicate that Ben move forward toward the man in blue and much as for the other officers to step forward and grab him. They weren't particularly gentle about it, tossing him to the ground and kneeling on the back of his head as they were. It hurt enough that he wanted to squirm out from under them. That wasn't directly their point, he could tell, since they were really just tryin
g to take him in, and use exactly the correct procedures, in case it went to court with news footage.
Since they were taught to use pain control techniques, they did it. Normally they would have just carefully put the cuffs on him while standing.
Then they picked him up, and without much ceremony, tossed him into the back of one of the driverless vehicles. That was normal enough, from what he'd seen in VR. The bad guy always rode in the back. They did let him sit up. Probably because the officers doing it knew that being a clone wasn't that big of a deal. Yes, the DNA records would match up with someone else, but the time markers on the material itself wouldn't.
One of the officers leaned in, as he pushed Ben all the way inside the car.
"Don't worry. This is just the local jail. The butt rape doesn't happen until you go to the state facilities." It came across as a threat, since the man was armed and trained to be assertive with prisoners. It was meant as reassuring banter.
After all, there was no way that Ben was going to be there for more than a day or two.
The fact that he was going to have four hundred other people screaming in his mind wasn't even a consideration, and, if he didn't want to go to an even worse situation, a mental institution, he had to make certain he didn't let on that anything was happening. As the car pulled away, two male officers in the front seat, doing the paperwork, Glenda managed to catch his eye.
She was focused and thinking only one thing.
Hang in there.
That would no doubt help him out. After all, he didn't have any training for that kind of thing. In fact, as far as he could tell, no one did. That thought got him to smile grimly, as one of the men up front awkwardly turned around and glared at him.