Reverence

by Joshua Landeros

  April 14, 2065 – Chancellor Venloran’s Office- UNR Headquarters

  “What’s this meeting about, Chancellor?” asked Kane.

  Seated next to him was Major Johnson. Venloran sat at his desk with a tired look on his face. He ignored the question and looked at Kearney. His assistant nodded and produced a photograph from a portfolio he held in his arms. The photo was placed on the desk so Avery and Kane could look at it.

  Kane could only mutter one thing, “Son of a bitch.”

  The photo was a UNR Academy snapshot of a trainee in his school uniform. The student was Jacob Neeson.

  “Are you sure, Venloran?” the Major asked.

  “The PSID secured a few blood samples from the Clinchco warehouse. They confirmed it was Jacob Neeson.”

  “He was relieved of duty at a training academy in Iowa years ago. I thought he joined the rest of his family after Neeson left the country,” Major Johnson remarked.

  “Yes,” Venloran confirmed, “and under our watch, he has somehow come back. I wouldn’t doubt Robert himself is behind all of this.”

  “The return of the Crimson Angels?” suggested Johnson.

  “They lack the insignia, you forget that,” the Chancellor said in answer.

  “They could be biding their time, Venloran. They know if they rear their heads we’ll stomp them out.”

  “Not with Halsey still locked away, no way in hell. They died off years ago,” Venloran refuted.

  Kane scoffed.

  “In 2051 the Crimson Angels almost succeeded in assassinating you with a bomb. If it hadn’t been for that botched early detonation, your role as Chancellor would’ve ended that day. Halsey avoided execution after they were rounded up, but I will tell you now what I told you then: it would've been wise to have kept tabs on Neeson. His son was never a confirmed member of the Crimson Angels, but it seems I was right to assume so.”

  “The doctor was a renounced public figure and a close friend. At the time, I didn’t see the need, but now I see the error in that,” Venloran admitted.

  Kearney took Kane’s remark as slander.

  “Chancellor, the next thing the Commander will say is that you should've placed Neeson in a camp. Tact is something you don’t seem to understand, Kane.”

  The Chancellor pulled out his lighter and lit a cigarette. The arguing became distant to his ears, and he found himself in the middle of recollection.

  ***

  September 13, 2050 Chancellor’s Office, UNR Headquarters

  Chancellor Venloran sat at his desk looking through the piles of paperwork. There was a knock on his door. Kearney looked up from his work as well. From the video monitor on his desk, he could see it was Dr. Neeson and Unit 21.

  “Come in, my friends, come in,” he greeted them.

  The two men entered the room. Dr. Neeson, healthy for his age, was in his prime. Unit 21 was as menacing as ever, and he bowed upon entering.

  “Honorable Chancellor,” he said diligently.

  “At ease, soldier, at ease,” Venloran said, “I hear everything went well in Japan.”

  “Yes, Carl, just as you expected. Unit 21 and Unit 18 quickly disposed of the threat. The Prime Minister says he’s indebted to you for their service.”

  The cyborg remained motionless and without expression, although deep inside joy and pride escalated from the success of the mission.

  “The payments will be here accordingly,” concurred Kearney as he checked a computer, “and the international news stations love it. Prime Minister Takarada wishes to thank you by video link.”

  “Put him through,” Venloran nodded.

  Kearney picked up the remote and activated the enormous telescreen on the wall to the left of the Chancellor’s desk. Venloran turned his chair slightly to face the monitor. The telescreen switched on at Kearney’s command, everyone turning their attention to it. After a brief image of a blank screen, the Prime Minister appeared.

  “Hello, Chancellor Venloran. I wanted to thank you in person, but my schedule is running tight these days.”

  “It’s quite all right, Prime Minister, and besides, we are living in a new age. Is it not right to exploit the luxuries we’ve created?”

  The Prime Minister laughed, nodding in agreement.

  “How right. I must commend you for your expedient action. I know the business at hand wasn’t the prettiest, but our cooperation was my pleasure.”

  “Thank you, my friend. I look forward to further business ventures in the future.”

  “As do I, Chancellor. May ‘The Expansion’ continue to go well. Sayonara.”

  “Sayonara, Prime Minister.”

  The signal and image winked out, leaving Venloran and the others to themselves.

  “What a time we live in,” Neeson commented.

  Venloran sat back in his chair, something he rarely did.

  “It’s all coming together, Robert.”

  “I just have a few questions, Carl. Unit 21 has been on dozens of missions since the beginning. Where will he be sent now?”

  “I’ll have to consult Kane and Johnson on that one. Wherever The Expansion deems him most needed.”

  “Don't you think this cyborg deserves some R&R?”

  “R&R?” Venloran said, as his smile slacked, “not during this crucial moment. We have the momentum with more locals helping us fight the dissidents overseas. We need every soldier who’s able to fight out there fighting.”

  The doctor looked overly disappointed, and as Venloran began to notice, nervous as well.

  “Do you have something you wish to share with me, Robert?”

  “Yes, I do actually.”

  The cyborg lowered his head.

  “Shall I leave, Honorable sir?”

  “Do so, please,” instructed the Chancellor, but Dr. Neeson cut in.

  “No, stay. This concerns you as well.”

  “Oh, does it now?” said Venloran, leaning forward.

  “It regards someone you both know quite well. And I have taken the liberty of arranging for our guest to meet with us today.”

  Now Venloran was growing impatient, going as far as to stand up out of his seat.

  “Robert, what the hell are you saying? I don't have any appointments set up today.”

  Neeson went to the door, clicking in the clearance code after sliding his I.D. card.

  “Sorry, Carl, but it had to be done.”

  Venloran could not have been more shocked to see the faces of the people that walked in. What have you done, Robert?!

  ***

  3:06 A.M. April 15, 2065 - Amherst, Virginia

  Gabby drove the 18-wheeler down the sparsely populated freeway, dressed in a flannel and jeans. Her long hair was wrapped in a bun and tucked under a beanie, her attempt at casual. Seated in the passenger seat was Unit 21. He wore a drab jumpsuit and a hat, neither of which suited him. They’d been driving silently for hours now since leaving their base of operations, but the destination was now only minutes away.

  Ever since the incident, Gabby hadn’t been able to get a word out of either the cyborg or her brother Jacob unless it was business related. She felt a wave of adrenaline surge from her spine down to her gloved fingertips as he spoke now:

  “Your bravery is impressive.”

  “Save your breath. After your showboating the other day no one else wanted to be alone on a mission with you.”

  “Really? An army full of cowards won’t do, now will it?”

  “Enough of your bullshit. Tell me something useful like why you picked this place.”

  “I told your friend Alex to do a little digging for me, and he found Sanctuary’s Pass to be a sizable GPO. They serve just under one hundred hospitals, and are just starting up. I’m hoping this will make the warehouse a soft target.”

  “And you aren’t worried about them recognizing you?”

  “You’ve seen the news. My capture still hasn’t been disclosed to the public. That will work in my favor tonight. I’m more concerned ab
out them recognizing you.”

  Gabby made the turnoff. In roughly a minute Sanctuary’s Pass would be on their right. She felt Will’s eyes digging into her.

  “I have instructions to remain in the truck while you get what we need. Father said this should take you ten minutes. Once that time is up, I’m supposed to leave, with or without you.”

  “That would be disastrous.”

  “I guess you could call this our critical moment then, Will.”

  “Right you are. There’s a lot riding on this. I need this information badly, so don’t worry about me.”

  Gabby looked over at Will, but he was focused on the gate, manned by a single guard. There was no more time for discussion. Time to dive in. She brought the truck to a halt, and the guard walked over to the driver’s side. He wore a smile and had a steaming coffee in-hand.

  “Pick up or delivery?”

  “I think a little bit of both,” Gabby answered as she handed the guard a stack of papers and her I.D. On it was the name Patrice Hess. After a little reading, the guard sipped his coffee and handed both items back to her.

  “All right, go on in, ma’am.”

  She thanked him before directing the truck inside the premises. Once the truck was backed up into a loading area, Will got out without a word. Gabby was a little pissed at that, and now looked at her watch: 3:10.

  From the driver’s seat, Gabby watched the rear-view mirror with a sick feeling of helplessness. She was unable to hear anything, and she could see very little to boot. She turned on the radio to take the tension off, picking a station at random. Blasting out of the speakers was a furious guitar and thrumming drums. Gabby was ashamed to admit she had been legitimately startled by the song. Relax...two other security guards passed by. She assumed it was a routine perimeter check, as they were talking nonchalantly. They saw her seated in the truck and waved.

  Gabby waved back. Goddamn it. The two guards started walking over. She rolled down her window as they approached.

  “I didn’t know there were Iron Maiden fans as young as you.”

  “My dad got me hooked years ago.”

  “I don’t blame him. Dickinson knew how to get your blood pumping.”

  Gabby began to relax. Bruce Dickinson, that’s right. I know the band after all. Thanks, Alex.

  “Yeah, ‘Remember Tomorrow’ is fucking timeless,” she said, the older security guard nodding in agreement. Just as he was about to say more, his partner tapped his shoulder.

  “What is it, Bryce?”

  Bryce, the younger of the two, was looking over at the loading area. Something over there caught his attention.

  “Never seen that guy before, Ricky.”

  “No? You sure?”

  “Positive, sir.”

  “I call bullshit. Looks like Sully, but let’s take a look.”

  The older guard looked at Gabby and let out a disappointed sigh.

  “I’ll be back in a sec,” Ricky said with a warm smile.

  “Sure, just don’t keep me waiting.”

  Gabby watched as they walked off to the loading area. Soon they were out of sight. Shit…She looked at her watch again. 3:13.In seven minutes she was supposed to get out quick.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” she whispered. Ten minutes couldn’t possibly be enough time, but her father had been absolutely sure. She realized the song was drawing to its climax, as the clock hit 3:15. Enough of this. Gabby exited the truck and headed into the warehouse, gun at the ready. In her pocket was a clip. Loaded in the gun were EMP rounds.

  Upon entering, she saw several warehouse workers lying on the floor. The two guards lay on top of another in a makeshift pile, their guns not even drawn. Upon closer inspection, Gabby realized thankfully that all of these people were still breathing.

  She stepped quietly down the hall. This was not a horror scene. The people were alive, the lights were not flickering, and the floor wasn’t covered in blood and gore. But the cyborg was nowhere to be seen. As she walked further, she began to think it was time to go. One of the doors opened three rooms down, to her left. She pointed the gun at the open doorway as she froze. Out came the cyborg, who sat two 42 x 56 boxes down gently before going back inside and bringing out three more of the same size.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in the vehicle?” the cyborg questioned, “I see you’re one who has a problem following orders.”

  Gabby felt as if her brother or father was present.

  “Shut the hell up,” she said casually, refusing to let the cyborg belittle her, “why did you…”

  “Incapacitate everyone? The younger one wanted to make a call, possibly for backup. I couldn’t be too sure, so I took the direct route.”

  “Your inability to hold a conversation is a real problem,” she said.

  “Hardly my concern. Let’s load up.”

  Gabby didn’t bother to add to the conversation any longer, and the two loaded the boxes into the truck. During the long drive back to base, Gabby turned the radio all the way up. Whether Will realized it was a ploy to avoid talking, or not, she didn’t much care. Rob Halford’s voice, accompanied by the piano and guitar, was full of hurt as he sang ‘Here Come the Tears.’ Looking back, she should’ve changed the song, but something inside told her not to.

  Chapter 19 - Loyalty

  April 15, 2065 - UNR Headquarters

  Halsey couldn’t remember seeing this soldier before, even with that armor. That was feasible, seeing as this one was obviously female, and he couldn’t picture a female in the usual get-up assigned to the cyborgs. Usually if he had been asleep upon a soldier’s entering, he was far more likely to turn away from them on his stained and dirty mattress. Observing her blonde and black hair, however, he felt the need to speak first.

  “I wasn’t aware they made ‘em like you,” he said, “but the fact that you are in my lowly presence and not Will, tells me something is amiss. Where has he been?”

  Valerie folded her arms, wanting more than ever to rid her world of decrepit beings such as the man before her.

  “You speak of Unit 21 with such familiarity. That’s why I am here,” she said sternly. Halsey felt an aura of dread as she stepped very close, kneeling down to his level until she was directly in his face.

  “Listen, you are no less than scum, and you are obligated to answer my questions, no matter their nature.”

  “How else would I respond?” replied Halsey.

  “Good, so why is that he bothered spending so much time with you?”

  “I don’t know myself. Perhaps he knows something I don’t,” Halsey said.

  “Did you use to work together back before you ended up here?” Val asked. It was clear this man had an attachment of some kind to Unit 21, but he was shaking his head.

  “I never knew the man. But I knew people close to him,” he said in a nearly inaudible whisper.

  “You’ve been held here as long as he’s been stationed here. How is that possible?”

  Halsey’s face looked fazed on the exterior. Inside, it was ever worse. Who is this cyborg? Whoever she was she seemed to have a link of some sort to Will. It was the only reason she’d be here.

  “You believe you know Unit 21 and me inside and out, but I know the little about him that matters more than anything.”

  Halsey hesitated. It was the only reason she was here, indeed. All he’d known for so long was despair and pain. He had met people here on a few occasions and had always watched them die. One thought had always bothered him: when would it be me? So far, it never had. He hated not knowing what went on beyond these cell walls. This cyborg was a possible path. But to where? Life or death? Yes, he could have told the cyborg every detail he had kept inside since this began. The problem was her loyalty. If he put more trust in her than he should and she leaked it to the Chancellor, he would most certainly, be put to death. Was this opportunity worth the risk? He was brought back to Earth by her voice.

  “Tell me what you know,” she said to him quietly, “please, h
elp me.”

  Halsey winced in front of her, the pain and turmoil he felt. There was only one thing he could say to her.

  “Sorry, but I can’t. Not now.”

  The cyborg’s face was unmistakably angry, but she said nothing. Halsey had never been this frightened or felt so close to death than he did now. The strange women stood up, her body relaxed. She cleared some hair out of her face.

  “I understand.”

  Valerie landed a backhand on the man’s face, exerting a little more force than she meant to. He was knocked to the floor, blood in his spit. She turned and left without another word. He waited till the door shut before checking his molars. Indeed, one had been knocked loose. But more was on his mind than the blow he’d just received. Halsey lay back down on his bed, wishing the decision he’d just made would not lead him somewhere he didn’t want to go. Still, he couldn’t escape the feeling this new cyborg was in just as much turmoil as he was.

  ***

  Before even reaching the door, Unit 23 could hear the sounds of Luis’ intense training. Inside, Unit 18 hacked down about twenty training dummies with one of his swords. The steel mannequins were sliced and diced effortlessly. The super soldier saw a face in each one of the mannequins, faces recognized during the investigation the other day. He would never be satisfied, but feeling their bones snap between his fingers would be pure ecstasy.

  As shards of metal nicked the walls, Luis was voracious, caught up in the roar of the moment, and loving every second. Luis reserved the targets he designated as the Neeson family for last, savoring these kills with anticipation.

  He stabbed the old man through the heart first and foremost, before moving on to his kin. Next to go was the son, who he decided was fit to be bisected. Luis brought the sword down on his collarbone, cutting him in two diagonally, much like one would cut a slice of bread. Last but not least, was the daughter. After watching him murder her beloved family, he relished seeing her expression most. It would be stupendous. Always needing to top himself, Luis made a simple decision. She would be decapitated. One cleave of his sword and it was done.

  Luis watched the metallic head roll across the floor. The only thing lingering on his mind was his dissatisfaction. The order he realized, that’s what was bothering him. It seemed optimal, but honestly, he hadn’t given it all that much thought till now. The more he did, the more he focused on the fact that he would need to be more creative. It was the only way. He sheathed his sword, and decided to work out in the weight room.