by SK Benton
"Coby, I want our best vid experts to form a team. Bring the surveillance vids from Luigi Bagatelle's quarters, from Commander Gunnarson's home and from his mother's detention apartment. I want every bit of data scraped. Go deep; try to see if anything had been overwritten. This is too much of a coincidence. We cannot have anything disrupting the celebrations we are soon to have, welcoming the Artusians. This is an important moment in human history and I won't have it ruined."
Johnson waved Worthington off with his hand and spun back around on his chair. Once he heard the door shut, he turned back around and pulled out his private phone. Putting the small device in his ear he said, "Operation Outback."
"Yes sir, how can I help you?" answered the voice on the other end of the transmission.
"I need SSCC status reports sent to my personal console," he demanded.
"Of course, sir," said the voice. "But I can tell you that we are still at least two years out from a complete retrofit. There is too much to complete while working in clandestine fashion. If we could simply be open with our tasks and material manifests it could help to massively decrease the estimated time of completion."
"I am attempting to circumvent the Senate in order to make that happen, but until then you must ramp up production. I cannot stress how critical this is. I also need a report on the gene-lock that is in development. It is for the safety of all involved."
Johnson was a dictator, but he still had to deal with certain elements of the government, including the bicameral legislature. And even though he had forged some alliances in the military, for the most part Naval leadership didn't trust him. The gene-lock was simply another one of his personal safety guarantees. The retrofitted hook drives would not activate without his personal living presence on the Capital Barge.
"Very well, sir. We'll do what we can to increase productivity. While we are speaking, I still haven't received my guarantee notification that my family will be included in the New Exodus. Should I be expecting that soon?"
"Yes, yes, of course. I shall personally make sure of it. I'll expect the status report on my personal console before day's end," Johnson said tersely, before hanging up without even bidding a good day to the other end of the call. He then pulled out his other ear piece, using it to call in the captain of his security detail.
"Chairman - here as you requested," said the large, muscular man of Old-Earth African extraction, dressed in a black business suit, as he entered into Johnson's office roughly thirty seconds after the call had been made for his presence.
"Yes, I need for you to take care of something," said Johnson, looking as though he had something on his mind. Jotting some information down on a piece of paper, he handed it to the captain.
"Tonight."
"Even the children?"
"All of them."
"Very well, sir. As you command," said the security officer as he departed the chairman's office.
Johnson turned to a framed photo on his desk. It was an image of he and his son, Ryder, who was still listed as missing in action on Old-Earth. After all those months he still held out hope that his boy would make it back home. Mere seconds later his personal console made a beeping sound, indicating a data feed. It was the SSCC status report from the call he had made earlier Scanning over the report he saw that fleet completion would be perilously close to the visitors' arrival, and if previous communications with the Vrol had done anything, it had proved that they had absolutely no morals, patience nor a desire to wait until his New Exodus was ready and had departed. They would arrive and simply bring death for Azul, Luna, Sienna and Vera.
I do dislike deleting good servants, but he should have learned - never ask for anything.
###
Outside, approximately a half kilometer from the Chairman's offices, Lt. Commander Alicia Vasquez sat alone in a café near the central plaza in New Sydney, sipping her cappuccino as she watched hundreds of people walk by, all going about their daily activities. She was running the razor's edge, maintaining an underground network of military operatives who were completely against the unconstitutional activities of Len Johnson (and his manada de boludos, as she called them), while performing her required military duties at the same time. Dipping a biscotti into her hot, caramel-colored beverage, she scarcely noticed as three individuals suddenly appeared in the empty chairs at her table. Then, nearly gasping, she was stopped, as Luigi Bagatelle put his hand over her mouth and a finger to his pursed lips.
"Alicia. Shhh - no one can see us. You have to continue to act as if you are alone. Here, hold this," he said, as he put a comm device in her hand. She immediately heard his voice in her head, which startled her at first, but Vasquez was a very sharp woman who immediately put two and two together, especially as she was staring at not only Bagatelle, but also at Lt. Jennifer Escalante and the fugitive Max Gunnarsson.
"Ali, my god, you are safe. I've been worried about you. Just whisper what you want to say - we will hear you," Bagatelle thought out to his lover and former second in command. At first she blasted out a jumbled mess of thoughts, but they reflected back to her, causing her to try and clear her mind.
"Sir, where have you been? I was interrogated for seven hours when you went missing, but of course I told them nothing - because I had no idea where you went!" she murmured back angrily while holding her cappuccino cup up to her lips in order to mask her speaking from view.
"I am so sorry. Remember all of the details I gave you on what happened in Machu Picchu? Well, they're back. Jennie returned with that old wizard fellow and spirited me out of my confinement. He said it would be best that you knew nothing."
"He was correct," she whispered, "I knew nothing so I couldn't tell them anything. They even tried to painfully extract engrams, and that failed. Since then they have left me alone. But where have you been? And… hello, Lieutenant Escalante. You are looking well, as would be expected. And am I to assume that this is Commander Gunnarsson?"
Both Jennie and Max nodded and smiled, as Max addressed her.
"Greetings, Lt. Commander. Please look around and not at us, as if we are not here. First, I must apologize for using such a public place, but G insisted we make contact with you."
"And I am Lt. Gunnarsson now, Lt. Commander. Max and I are married," added Jennie.
"No… way. Really?" she asked as she glared at Bagatelle, who had obviously never popped the question. As she looked at him, all while trying to appear that she was not looking at anything at all she noticed that he looked fantastic - much better than he had for a number of years.
"Ali, can you take a transport to a more remote location, perhaps where there is no surveillance? We need to show you some things and can't have you popping out of view," Bagatelle thought over the comm.
"Sure. Once my duty shift is over I am off for the weekend. I was actually planning on surfing at New Bondi. We can meet there in four hours. How does that sound?"
She detected laughter in her mind, and looking around, noticed that she had not gained the attention of anyone. Getting up, she didn't even look back as she went to return to her duty station, which was in an office near the plaza. Then, sneaking a peak back, she saw no one occupying the chairs at her table. They were gone as quickly and quietly as they had arrived.
###
Four hours later, Vasquez was paddling out between sets. The waves were a meter overhead and consistent, with an offshore wind that helped them to hold their shape, accentuated by a strong northerly current that tended to increase their length. Getting out past the breaks, she sat on her board and watched for the next set to start rolling in. There were a number of other surfers in the water, but she was furthest out, as she liked to paddle hard and take the wave as early as possible. Even in the 29th century, surfing was a competitive sport.
A good-sized wave started to form as she turned towards the shore, paddling like mad. Her board was two and three-quarters meters long, qualifying it as a longboard and enabling her to roll into waves much earlier than t
he youngsters who were on short boards, closer to the shore. The wave was smooth and built up nicely as she started to catch its momentum. As soon as she got forward thrust she popped up and dropped in, perfectly placing herself in the pocket. Then, to her surprise, the wave grew in size, becoming over three meters high at the face and forming a perfect tube that she expertly guided herself into. Stoked that such an awe-inspiring wave had formed, she was just as amazed when she found herself standing, motionless, without her board, in a large cavern. There was artificial lighting; no water and her momentum had completely halted.
"Welcome, Ali. Sorry we had to do things that way, but we saw that there was a lapse in satellite surveillance, so we snagged you," said Bagatelle as he brought Alicia a towel.
"Um, yeah, that was kinda weird, and you blew what was probably the best wave I've ever caught in my life," she replied sardonically. "So, where are we?"
"In a cave!" loudly exclaimed a very animated Draagh, who was busy off in a corner of the new installation.
"That much is obvious. So, is that the wizard fellow you were talking about?" she asked Bagatelle.
"Yes. Draagh, this is Lt. Commander Alicia Vasquez. Ali, this is Draagh. He's… um… immortal. And he's a mage and can do really amazing things. And we are in a subterranean cavern on Vera right now. This will be our base of operations while we assemble our forces to fight the Vrol."
Draagh waved at Alicia as he continued working. She thought he looked odd, wearing what was apparently some sort of fishbowl over his head.
"So, I went from the perfect wave in New Bondi to a cave on Vera in the snap of a finger. That's a 48 hour trip in our fastest ships this time of year. Impressive. And the Vrol - that's what you call the Artusians, right?" she asked.
"Yes, that's what we call them. Hello, Alicia. I'm Max. It's nice to meet you and actually speak out loud," Max said as he walked over to where the lt. commander was standing.
"Hello, sir. Or should I even address you by rank. I don't know, I'm confused," she stammered as the lycan commander extended his hand in friendship.
"Max will suffice for the time being, Lt. Commander, as we tend to be informal. But make no mistake; we are leading an off-world contingent that will be critical to fending off the Vrol before they even arrive. Even though Bagatelle has been stripped of rank on this planet, and he has started from scratch on Old-Earth, I still defer to him as a superior officer, though there are certain things in which I most definitely am superior."
"Oh, really. Things… such as?" she asked most sarcastically.
Lt. Commander Alicia Vasquez nearly wet her wetsuit as she watched Max Gunnarsson flap his powerfully impressive wings and lift off the ground. She was about to say something, when Michael and Gabriel both went shooting by, flying madly down the extensive corridors that they had already created. The brothers were again reveling in their competitive natures, but this time getting along quite swimmingly.
"Okaaaay, yeah, things. Right. So, flying men?"
"Max is the son of Mija-El, also known as Saint Michael, the Taxiarch. You know, the commander of Heaven's forces?" said Bagatelle.
"You mean San Miguel Arcángel? The real one? It's… he's real?" she asked.
"I am the real deal, as they say, Alicia. It is a pleasure to meet you," said Michael as he extended his hand. He had appeared as quickly as he had flown by mere moments before.
Looking over Max, she had a look of total dismay, as she tried to understand the gravity of everything.
"Max? An archangel's son? How did that happen?" she gasped.
"Well, my parents obviously had sex, wouldn't you think?" Max asked rhetorically.
"I didn't mean it that way! I mean, angels are real? Wings and all?"
"Do I look real to you?" asked Gabriel, as he entered the chamber, accompanied by Jessica, who had been busy assisting in the organization and layout of the new rooms and corridors.
"What else do I need to know? What if the surveillance cameras train back on my location?"
"Oh, we've taken care of that, my dear, yes we have.
Jennie was catching her fourth wave while disguised as Alicia Vasquez. Draagh had temporarily altered her appearance, making her a perfect clone of her former superior officer. While she knew how to surf, she was not as accomplished as the Lt. Commander. However, Draagh had embedded her katana inside Alicia's surfboard, enabling Jennie to navigate it much more effectively, and even propel it into waves. Numerous youths, waiting closer to shore for waves, were complaining that the old chick was hogging all the waves; Jennie giggled and slashed her board past them on every peaked-out swell she caught.
"Oh, Jennie took your place. No worries, we'll bring her back once we have finished discussing some things with you - and making you an offer," said Bagatelle, "but first things first." He walked over to her, and putting her hands on her slightly angular cheeks, drew her face close to his and gave her a tender kiss.
"Mmmm, my oh my, it's been a long time, G. Are you simply going to poof away again anytime soon?"
"No, dear. I'm truly sorry for what happened before, but it was the only thing I could do. Anyway, we need to discuss genetics. Max is not only the son of an archangel but he is also a lycan."
"A what, huh? Is this the wolf thing you were telling me about, that you didn't put in your report?"
"Yes. Draagh can explain in more detail later on, but I am also lycan, as are you," he said with a look of utmost sincerity.
"I'm a lycan? Sorry, G, I don't feel it. What makes me a lycan? My complexion?" she asked sarcastically. Sarcasm was her strong suit. Dealing with reality was a second trait in which she excelled.
"You have recessive genes in your system. I also had them, but they are no longer recessive, as they have been activated. Jennie, of course, being my sister, is also lycan."
"Oh, so she knows now. Thank god. I was biting my tongue half the time, wanting to tell her. You were so mean to her on the ship!"
"I couldn't risk anyone finding out we were related. She would have been removed from my command. You know that," he said sadly.
"Yeah, I know, hun. It's ok. So, how did you activate? Is there a switch or something?"
Before she could start her next sentence, she felt a small prick in her arm, looking quickly to see Michael pulling a syringe away.
"There. You should start noticing changes in a few minutes," said the archangel.
"What was that? What did you put in me?" she demanded.
"Oh my dear, it is perfectly fine. It is a serum we made that will enable your body to avail itself of all of the wonders of nature," said Draagh.
"Um, right. Isn't that what Dr. Timo thy Leary said in the 20th century?"
"Who? I am unfamiliar with that name, my dear," answered Draagh, as Bagatelle started to laugh, being fully aware of the Flower Power Generation on Old-Earth. Taking Alicia by the hand, the former rear admiral walked her over to a comfortable seating area and sat with her on a couch.
"Ok, relax, Ali. Close your eyes and smell the air. Listen to the sounds. It is going to become more pronounced, more intense," Bagatelle said calmly, walking her into her new abilities slowly.
They waited for ten minutes and Alicia still had not experienced anything extraordinary. Draagh was perplexed, as she indeed carried the recessive gene. Then, having an idea, he walked over and touched her arm, causing a small amount of blood to painlessly transfer into a capsule held in his other hand. The red liquid flowed from her skin, looking like a beautiful red ribbon. Alicia was amazed as the old mage then conjured an infopanel, complete with a holographic display, and poured the blood sample onto the semi-tangible surface of the infoscreen, which then analyzed her life fluid.
"Ah, here it is. It appears that, although she has the necessary genetics, for some reason her body is not producing the virus necessary for coordination with her genes and the ambient particles, as well as those flowing throughout her blood and lymph system. Luigi, my dear boy, you now have the opportunity to turn
your first lycan," Draagh stated with great authority and delight.
"Huh? Turn? What do you mean?" she asked, startled.
"Um, I have to get my blood into your bloodstream," responded Bagatelle.
"And how are you going to do… ow!"
Alicia yelped in pain as Bagatelle bared his fangs and sunk them into her neck, making sure that the blood from a cut in his mouth entered into the wound. As he pulled away she looked at him, frightened at his appearance. He had temporarily gone to phase 2, in order to increase the size of his canines and facilitate a proper bite.
"Please, don't be alarmed. I always wanted to bite someone, so I am glad you are my first," he said, almost comically as he gradually returned to his day form.
It was then that Alicia almost immediately started to feel differently. She could nearly smell colors and see sounds. Her tactile senses became razor sharp, and turning, she looked at Bagatelle and started run her hands over his face and neck, following up by kissing him furiously.
"I'm really going to enjoy this," she exclaimed breathlessly.
Max, Bagatelle and Draagh then spent the next half hour explaining as much as they could of what had transpired up to that point. They started from the beginning in Machu Picchu, and then gave a brief overview of the Rhönen Dominion. They left out some details, such as the fate of Ryder Johnson, as they felt it better for her to not have any information on the deceased son of the planetary dictator. She was also warned to not get anywhere near platinum, as it would cause discomfort, and that they would be with her on the next full moon series (which was 52 hours long on Azul, the planet having a 26 hour rotational period). Alicia seemed to absorb it all quite well, and was willing to stay on Azul and maintain her network. She was to be the coordination between Max and Draagh's forces and those on Azul. Before they sent her back they gave her another comm device. It was unlike the previous one they had handed to her in the café, as the new device could not been seen by anyone without enhanced genetics, so she could wear it with impunity and be in constant contact with Max, Draagh, Jennie, and most importantly, Bagatelle. Best of all, as she had been turned, she could now merely think into it.