Reverence

by Joshua Landeros

  “I’m sure Adolf Hitler thought the same thing, as have many, many, others.”

  “We have triumphed, Neeson. It is my greatest pity that you refuse to join in the celebration and move forward into the future.”

  ***

  Valerie entered her quarters, getting ready to clean her swords. The weapons were about to receive plenty of duties, and she wanted the prisoners to admire her in a way. As she took off her jacket, she heard something hit the carpet, small but of decent weight. Valerie scanned the floor, finding a sparkling, gold ring. Did Will give this to me?

  She picked it up, admiring the small diamond on it as well. Valerie tried to focus on the assignment at hand but found her thoughts drifting further and further away. The ring was absolutely amazing, and as she analyzed it, she discovered two names etched along its side: Bryan and Valerie, with a heart engraved between the two. She found herself trembling, once again uncontrollably. But this time she felt happy. Her mind settled on thoughts of warm grainy sand, with brief gusts of soothing wind, all watched over by a dazzling sun.

  ***

  On November 21, 2051, Julissa and Zaneta Marconi were hung for murder, acts of terrorism, treason, and crimes against the UNR. The evanescence of these nightmares is the only way out. I will no longer feel any pain at all. No tension, no flaws, no delayed reactions. I will be everlasting perfection.

  Will walked into the cold room, put down his sword, and lay on the seat. Dr. Krenzler walked in behind him, with Myers carrying the injection gun. He looked down at Will, patting him on the shoulder.

  “You are a hero,” he said, looking at Myers as if to assert the fact, “and you will always be remembered as one.”

  “A dose of velocicide, sir?” Will asked, plainly.

  “Yes, Unit 21. This will remove any doubt from you.”

  Will was relieved and shut his eyes. He smiled and laid his head back. This was his moment of greatest glory. He thought about how after this moment nothing around him would be familiar. Everything would be new to him, subjects to ponder and analyze. This excited him, the prospect of the unknown. Not like the kind that had plagued him and made him question his faith in the Chancellor at all. Why did I do all this? Risk so much for people I can hardly recollect? Those were sins he wished he’d never had the horrors of discovering. What did those illusions offer besides pain? His mind wandered, taking in the fantasies one last time before completely abandoning them.

  ***

  S.S.C. Unit 21 saw the distraught and angry look on his Chancellor’s face. Neeson disobeyed direct orders and opened the doors to the main office. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kearney shrink off to the back. Venloran stood at attention. Guests without a proper appointment, what a rather uninteresting situation, Will mused. His Chancellor gave no orders, so he patiently waited.

  Two women walked in, greeting Dr. Neeson briefly. He heard “thank-you’s” being exchanged before their attention was turned his way. Both of them held strange stares that seemed to go on for days.

  One of them was a fair peach-skinned woman, probably in her late thirties. Her long, black hair reached her shoulders, and her brown eyes reminded him of his own. The other was younger, a young adult with similar skin tone to his, although a smidge lighter. She was almost the same height of the older woman, and though the lines of age distinguished them, they were mirror images of each other. The younger one had brown eyes as well, but he noticed something else. Both women’s eyes began to gleam and turn red. Tears came as they both rushed up and hugged him.

  The older woman looked up at him now and kissed him roughly. He smelled a sweet fragrance on her, making it unbearably pleasant. Her tender lips felt heavenly. Still, something felt out of place. After several seconds, she stopped and looked up at his stoic face. Will was taken aback by it all, completely silent.

  “Will? What’s wrong with you?” she asked painfully. She fought to keep herself from sobbing. Venloran attempted to speak:

  “I know this is a hard time for you, Mrs. Marconi, and I’d be happy to arrange another day for such an obviously delicate situation. This tragedy is one that requires your continued patience –”

  “Will, what about us? How can you just leave us?” the woman implored. The younger one continued to cry at her side.

  “Our own children?”

  Will only stared back in confusion and it was then that Julissa understood.

  “You should be patient ma’am. As I said in the letter, your husband suffered heavy brain damage. He’s lucky to be with us and is one of the honored few who have dedicated their lives to the UNR’s constant defense.”

  The woman turned toward Venloran, approaching his desk.

  “You said he was in a coma! I want to know why he was not sent home! You can’t just take him away!”

  “Please, try to understand. When one like your husband is brought back after being so close to the brink of death, the mental effects are devastating. His rehabilitation into normal society will be lengthy, if at all attainable. My only intention is to keep him and others like him as productive members of society. Your husband still fights for his country, and for his family.”

  “And for you, right Chancellor? Please, don’t treat me like a fool and feed me that shit.”

  The woman retrieved papers from her purse and slammed them down onto Venloran’s desk. The Chancellor instantly looked through them, losing all interest in his unexpected guests. Will stood there looking rather lost.

  “Where did you get these?” he asked without looking at them both.

  “I gave those to her. Some time ago,” Neeson answered.

  “I don’t know who the hell you are to play God, but you seem to have forgotten you can’t just do this sort of thing. We’re taking my husband home where he belongs.”

  “My apologies, Mrs. Marconi, but you cannot do that. You will continue to receive monthly compensation, and we will keep you notified of any developments in his condition.”

  Will noticed a few UNR guards enter the room. Julissa’s sorrow was building into a rage. She lashed at the Chancellor, delivering a right cross directly to his mouth. The sound of it resonated through the room and left everyone speechless. Kearney’s mouth almost dropped open but Venloran miraculously stayed docile. The soldiers went for their batons, but the Chancellor’s raised hand stopped this.

  “Men, escort these two women off the premises. Have a good day, ma’am. I wish you happiness.”

  The lady was carried off yelling and cursing, her anger comparable to that of a rabid animal. In the blur of her rage however, Will still saw those running tears. As she drifted farther down the hall, and out of sight, Will’s acute hearing heard the roars of her anger fall apart into wails of sorrow. The words No, No, no, went on and on, even as he was the only one hearing it. The younger woman hugged him tightly once more. She’d been quiet throughout this whole ordeal, even as her mother was pulled out of the room violently. In spite of her thin appearance, her hold on him was like a vice. He did not attempt to hold her back, merely regarded her as if she were lost. Despite this, she spoke ever so softly.

  “I’ll always love you,” Zaneta said quietly, “All of us. We’ll always love you, Daddy.”

  Will heard those words and felt his arms unconsciously wrap around his child. He hugged her back and even though he did not grasp it all. He drew security from their embrace.

  The soldier behind Zaneta pulled her off gently, and she rose to leave willingly. She locked her dark brown eyes with Will’s one last time before the doors shut behind them.

  “Get him out of here.”

  Will saw a soldier cuff Dr. Neeson’s hands behind his back, preparing to escort the doctor out of the room as well. “We can’t go on like this, Carl! People won’t stand for it!”

  Venloran looked down at the papers again, shifting through them. He paid no mind to the blood seeping from his lower lip.

  “No, Doctor, it’s you who doesn’t understand.”

  Sudde
nly it was disturbingly quiet in the room. Kearney remained off in the corner, not saying a word. Will wasn’t sure what to do himself. His Chancellor approached him.

  “I’m sorry you had to experience that, Unit 21,” he said somberly, “throughout life, you’ll see those who are not willing to accept sacrifice for victory. They fear change, and will even fight to prevent ones such as us, from doing the needed work.”

  “I believe I understand, sir.”

  “Beings like you and I are the keystone to utopia, the very real guardians of our society. Always remember that.”

  ***

  Unit 21 cringed in his sleep. The files within his CPU cross-referenced with this hallucination. Julissa and Zaneta Marconi. His wife and daughter. For such a long time he’d wondered what their voices were like, their physique, their smell, the small details that the database had left out because they were irrelevant. He still had little information on his son, in fact he had no idea what he even looked like. He remembered how tightly they’d embraced him. How sweet Julissa’s lips had been against his own. The thing that startled him the most, though, was those tears.

  He’d killed so many, in battle after battle, and many times, witnessed men crying for their lives to be spared. It was a product of raw emotion at its most prominent, whether it be out of tragedy, physical pain, or unrivaled fear. He’d always brushed tears aside as mere impairments of being human. Perhaps, in reality, they were. He realized just how much agony had been weathered down upon those tormented souls, he felt so much pain. Pain like he’d never known.

  Myers strapped down the cyborg’s left arm as Krenzler loaded up the injection gun. The assistant secured the legs before finally moving onto the right arm. He was tired today and couldn’t wait to get home. As he briefly looked up at the monitors, he felt a shiver run down his spine, cold and lingering. He turned and looked at Unit 21, whose eyes were open and glossy.

  “S.S.C. Unit 21, shut down,” Myers said, but he could feel his own voice crack. The face of the being strapped down on that table, so placid and still, suddenly gave way to one of sheer insanity. An animalistic yell erupted from his mouth. Krenzler’s face paled.

  “Myers, secure the unit!!”

  Myers backed away though, a cold sweat on his face. At that moment, Krenzler knew hell was upon them, and its fury would not be brief. Will used his free arm to rip the restraints off the other, and within a few seconds had freed his legs. Will for once was not being rational. In fact, he did not give himself a single second to ponder his actions. He acted solely out of his own despair and the need to let it flush outward.

  He turned toward Myers, who reached for the distress button nearest him at the computer monitor close to the table. Myers was only two feet away from it, and the cyborg several. Krenzler knew it didn’t matter. In a blaze of motion, he’d struck Myers’ neck with his arm as if it were a hefty log. The result wasn’t too different. His neck jerked inhumanly, with a snap of vertebrae so painful to the ears, it was as if the doctor could feel it himself. The man’s body crumpled to the floor. The cyborg’s arm lashed out again, but his time with an alarming grip on the doctor’s throat. Krenzler felt his feet being lifted off the floor. He stared into the cold lifeless brown eyes of the being before him.

  “Don’t, don’t–”

  Will didn’t snap the man’s neck. Instead, he hurled him up into the telescreens in the ceiling, causing an explosion of sparks before the man fell twelve feet down to the familiar cold floor. The cyborg lowered himself to the floor on one knee to pick up the injection gun. He studied the tool before crushing it in his hands. He walked over to his sheath and fastened it to his belt before turning to leave. Just as he did, he heard bits of glass shuffling, followed by a weak groan. Will walked over to the mess of shattered glass, to see a still breathing Krenzler.

  He could tell the man’s legs were useless, his spine probably damaged. He would not recover, but death would not come quickly either. Krenzler’s face was wide-eyed with pain, but his mouth uttered not a sound. Among the field of razor-like shards, his wrinkled hands bled non-stop. Will stared at the man before standing over him. In that rush of rage, he now felt despair, nearly regret. Alas, there was no turning back. Krenzler had known the inhumanity of what he’d done thousands of times. He placed a boot on the man’s face and applied more than enough pressure. As Will walked away, he left bloody footprints behind.

  Chapter 24 - Internal Siege

  April 17, 2065- UNR Headquarters

  Val instantly slipped the ring into her pocket, afraid it would be Kane staring at her in the doorway. As she stood up though, she was relieved to see her comrade.

  “Luis, what is it?”

  “Unit 23,” he said calmly, “we have a situation and an interesting one at that. You’ve been selected to secure the Chancellor during this emergency.”

  Val already knew before asking. It was like a sick intuition that stabbed her again and again. She ignored the pain.

  “How bad is it?” she asked.

  “About as bad as we anticipated.”

  He studied the sullen look on her beautiful face, his own not showing any bit of emotion.

  “Are you in or not?”

  “To the end. What about you?”

  “I’m supposed to be going in with the first wave.”

  She noticed he wasn’t wearing his intercom piece.

  “But you’re not.”

  “No, I’m heading to Weapons Department II for a special operation. After the Chancellor is safe report there as well. We’ve got quite a bit of work to do in a short amount of time.”

  Valerie slid her swords back into their sheaths.

  “Those soldiers will be killed without your help.”

  “And rightly so. They’ve dishonored the UNR. Dishonored the Chancellor. They don’t deserve to be in uniform, and our friend will be a testament to their mediocrity. I love the UNR, and I love the Chancellor, but I want them all to see how much they need us. After today, there will be no doubt.”

  Unit 23 thought back to the situation in the training room, that unfamiliar harshness and barbarity she’d had to endure. Her mind was made up. She too left behind her intercom.

  ***

  Cisco stood at attention, but his legs were quaking, knees quivering. His stomach felt unstable, and he could have vomited right there in the Detention Center hallway. The other soldiers around him didn't look at him, and he wondered if the same fear was flowing through them. Many of them didn't seem to be affected at all, although a few had faces that looked rather unsure. This is way too intense.

  He cocked his McMillan Tac-50 sniper rifle, securing the muzzle brake at the tip. In the cold room, he was sweating madly. He was disgusted with his own trepidation because, for what it was worth, he wasn't going to be a part of the first wave.

  The last of the soldiers exited the cells and secured the locks. Hans emerged, joining Cisco in silence. He gave him a reassuring smile, and even without words, the boy felt comforted. Against all that fluttered around in his mind, how his bowels were in shambles, his superior officer gave him the solace he so dearly needed. Cisco knew that this veteran was actually proud to go into battle with the “newbie” and he fed on that. This was what it meant to truly fight, the feeling of unbreakable camaraderie. He was now, more than ever, glad to serve.

  Commander Kane and Major Johnson spoke with Kearney a distance away, out of ear shot. There was so much confusion at the moment, but they all stood ready and waiting for what orders they'd be given. Kane approached them at last.

  “Soldiers, at attention!” he yelled, as the men and women scrambled to get organized. “Surveillance shows S.S.C. Unit 21 heading toward Weapon Department I, below the prison levels. We've lost contact with Unit 18 as well, due to intercom complications.”

  Johnson looked at the soldiers as Kane spoke on. His face betrayed no fear.

  “Regardless of what happens, we will stop Unit 21 in his tracks with a full-on assault. The majority
of you will re-group with the other platoons at Weapons Departments II and III. Mitch, you and two other squads will stay here with me, on the prison levels. We aren't entirely sure of the cyborg's intentions, but we are not taking any chances. Remember, the only way to get a kill shot is in the eyes. Now everybody move!”

  ***

  “Shit, open fire!” yelled the sergeant.

  Ten UNR soldiers unloaded their magazines down the blue-gray hall at a single target, whose nimble sprinting made him an incredibly hard mark to hit. Five others joined in, but the elusive being leaped up and briefly sprinted right along the wall itself. One bold soldier ran ahead of the rest, firing his weapon madly. Bullets blasted holes into the wall as empty shells hit the floor. The cyborg bounded off the wall, directly toward the soldier. His eyes widened in those last few seconds as he tried to get away.

  A single kick from the cyborg smashed the soldier’s sternum in the process. The body flew at the group of UNR men and women and knocked them over into a heap. As they pushed over the still form of the first victim and gathered their weapons, Will landed among them. Before many were back on their feet, he'd drawn his 1840 Cavalry Saber.

  The first swing cleaved into a soldier's neck and blood sprayed everywhere. Another clean swipe slit open the abdomen of another, and she fell to the floor trembling uncontrollably. The super soldier cut down one soldier at the knees, leaving him on the floor to revel in his own horror. Will saw another soldier finally reclaim his gun and take aim. An M240 machine gun no less, a truly powerful firearm. He saved himself the effort.

  As soon as the man opened fire, Will dodged to the left, and the torrent of bullets blew away his fellow soldier. The soldier couldn't stop himself and continued his assault no matter what was in his line of fire. A fire extinguisher exploded as speeding bullets punctured it, and the same thing happened when a soldier felt those bullets penetrating his armor. Will slashed one of the guards at the door in the shoulder and dealt the other was a slash across the chest. With his arm swinging that heavy blade, it cut through with ease.