Horsemen United: Horsemen Origins Books 1-5
Page 17
Warrens tried to close his eyes and sleep, but he couldn’t shake the images of the maimed from his vision. This was what building weapons had gotten him. Companies like Beckwell Defense may not have made weapons for warlords such as the three, but he couldn't stem the flow into the secondhand markets. He realized that he had a new mission: to root out the cancer that infected Africa’s heart. He had to do what the Core wouldn’t. He had to eliminate all three African warlords and allow the Core a chance to install a more peaceful leader.
Warrens felt the familiar vibration in his pocket from the mysterious orb. He knew deep in the marrow of his bones that this was the weapon which would end Africa’s civil war. How this would be done, he had no idea.
After countless hours on the gilded train, the bell whistled, and the train started to slow.
“Ah! The next factory! Come Mista Wahhens, you can build me some real guns here!” Iboee said as he flashed his impish grin.
The guards escorted Warrens and Gladys to a small saffron house. It was a grimy building where the concrete walls were painted a nauseating yellow. Those same walls glowed as the sun set behind them. Warrens notice the sand around the house, which to him meant they must be on the edge of the desert.
“Ah, New Nubia! Homeland to Enai Karakhoum our greatest King!” Iboee screamed with the glee of a child. “Now we reclaim it for Diallo.” Iboee waved to the Southeast where a warehouse belched smoke into the sky. The guards unlocked the door to the yellow house and led each member of the Warrens family into a holding cell.
“I will go check an’ see if they is ready for you Mista Wahhens,” Iboee said, his words full of needles. He turned and left the two guards inside to watch over Warrens and his grandmother.
A wall of bars separated the two of them. Warrens slumped as he walked burdened with shame over to his grandmother. “Grandma, I am so sorry about all of this,” He whispered.
His grandmother walked over, put her hands through the iron bars and cupped his face. “Jackson, none of this is your fault,” she said as she gently stroked his cheek.
“Yes it is. If I keep working for them...thousands…millions will die,” Warrens choked out as tears streamed down his face.
“You my dear boy, are the Da Vinci of our time. You will come up with something to save us. I know you will. I have total faith.”
“What do you think Dad would do in this situation?”
“He’d bide his time and wait for the right moment. Bud was very patient, just like you need to be. Your time will come Jackson.” Gladys sounded frail, but her voice became steel whenever she praised Warrens or his father.
Iboee waltzed into the house. “They say they be ready for you in the morning Mista Wahhens.”
“What about a lab where I can work?” Warrens asked.
“What’s wrong with here?”
“Well, I don’t have a bench, tools, my workbook-”
“Oh, that alright. We brought your notebook here,” Iboee said as one of the guards held up Warrens’ notebook. A chill scattered up his spine. Iboee and his men now had access to his notes on the weapon. If they had discovered how to wield it…
“Iké read through these notes. Why you record so little?” Iboee asked.
“I suppose I-”
“Don’t matter. What I need to know is can you make more of dat weapon?”
“I gave you instructions Iboee.”
“You gave me a list of materials. Now we need assembly instructions.”
“I’ll need to test for proper assembly. If you give me a lab-”
“All this testing! Test this! Test that! Why you need to keep testing?”
“Because it’s unstable! The vibration is something I can’t replicate unless I do more research! If I’m to rebuild this weapon for you Iboee, I need to know everything about it, not just what it’s made of.”
Iboee stared hard at the notebook. “What is your theory?”
“What do you mean? I -”
Iboee pulled out a pistol, cocked it and held it to Gladys’ forehead. “What do you think make it vibrate? Unless you think I’m stupid.”
“No! Never Iboee! I wonder...I wonder if it’s fourth dimensional metal.”
“Hmm...interesting. How do you know this?”
“I’m not certain, but I remember hearing about this concept in a physics of metal lecture. To be certain, I need access to a computer.”
Iboee thought for a moment. “Iké go with you. He watch all you search.”
“Fine. Done,” Warrens nodded. He may have made a deal with the devil, but he needed to know what he was dealing with.
“Good. First thing in the morning then,” Iboee said as he holstered his pistol inside his jacket. He and the guards left the small house in solemn silence. Warrens looked to Gladys, who was still rife with gloom as she took a seat on the metal bench.
“Go, get some sleep. Don’t worry about me Jackson, I’ll be fine,” Gladys said. Her voice was flat and empty. Warrens held his head down in shame and mourned for all those soon to be lost at his hand. He pulled the orb from his pocket. He noticed the lock on his cell door. He walked up to the door and willed for the orb to transform into a key.
The orb didn’t change its shape.
Warrens willed even harder and gave his full concentration. The orb remained stagnate in his hands.
“Guess even you have your limits,” He said to the orb as he walked back to his bench. He felt his eyelids grow heavy from the day. He was far more tired than he realized. He lied down on the bench and tried to sleep.
Iboee opened the rusty door the next morning with his usual escorts. “Iké, take Mista Wahhens to the computer. Let him do his research.”
“What about breakfast?” Warrens asked.
“When you work, you eat. Dat is the deal,” Iboee replied with a chill in his voice.
Iké escorted Warrens to an office with a computer inside. The office reeked of oil and had jet-colored streaks all over the walls. To Warrens, this was home.
He sat down at the computer as it prepared for his search query. Iké slapped Warrens’ notebook down in front of him, along with a pen, then took a defiant stance behind him. As the computer loaded, Warrens reached into his pocket, pulled out the orb and placed it on the desk. The computer’s projection shimmered and became unstable.
“What did you do?” Iké asked.
“I...uh...nothing. Shouldn’t these computers be…” Warrens gazed at the orb. He opened up his notebook and took out his pen.
Experimentation Log Day 10
Substance is electromagnetic. Interferes with electronics. That means it interacts with electronics. I wonder if I could rig something up where the computer and the substance can ‘speak’ to one another.
“Cut it out!” Iké hissed. He grabbed the orb and pulled it away. The computer screen immediately stopped flickering.
“Where you gonna search?” Iké asked.
“There’s a place which holds a massive database of scientific discoveries and other black market data. Known as ‘The Grid.’ Is that alright?”
Iké cracked his knuckles. “Yeah, it alright.” Iké was about the same size as Warrens, so his intimidation ploy wouldn’t work on the boxer.
Warrens researched and read one scientific paper after another regarding metals and physics until he found one which dived in depth about the theory of metals and substances from the fourth dimension. He got out his pen and scribbled in his notebook.
Incredible! According to the description here, this metal is constantly vibrating because it exists in multiple dimensions at once! It also vibrates due to the fact that fourth dimensional metal is apparently in all states of existence at once. That means the metal will take the form of everything it has ever been throughout its entire span of existence. It also states in here that the fourth dimension removes all “effort” from the equation, which explains how I can “think” an item into existence. The only thing I’m not finding is how I can create-
“It’s like energy. Can’t be created or destroyed. It just...exists,” Warrens whispered to himself.
“What?” Iké asked.
“Oh, nothin’ just solving a problem out loud,” Warrens replied. He kept a cool front, but inside he was collapsing. If Iboee found out that the orb couldn’t be replicated...Warrens would be executed on the spot. He needed something, anything to save his hide.
Warrens looked to a nearby cord on the desk. It was a standard plug, one used for the most antique machines. Cords meant communication, and he’d already discovered that the orb could interact with computers. He took the cord into his hand.
“Iké, may I?” Warrens asked as he motioned for the orb.
Iké looked confused, but he held the sphere up to Warrens. He touched the sphere with his finger, and a dock formed before his eyes. He plugged the cord into the sphere, and waited to see if the screen would change. The screen flickered for a moment, but then a window flashed open. Thousands of lines of code spilled down the window, a waterfall of instructions being uploaded to the device.
“What did you do?!” Iké screamed.
“It’s...uploading data,” Warrens replied.
“Make it stop!” Iké screamed as he ripped the cord out of the sphere. The screen froze in place. Warrens looked at the screen up close, the coding language as foreign to him as the thousands of indigenous languages across Africa. He took his pen to his notepad.
Confirmed: the device can communicate with computers. It’s...programmable.
Iké seized Warrens by the arm and dragged him out of the office. Warrens was so transfixed by what had happened, he barely noticed Iké dragging him. As Iké dragged Warrens through the complex, the orb melted through his fingers.
“Damn it!” Iké snarled as he tried to pick up the sphere. His fingers couldn’t grasp the metal in its liquefied state. “What is wrong with dis?!” He screamed.
Warrens reached down and touched the metal. It hardened back into the orb, which allowed him to grab and carry it. Iké rolled his eyes in frustration as he dragged Warrens back to his holding cell. In his haste, Iké threw Warrens into his cell, and slammed the iron gate shut without confiscating the notebook or the orb. He stormed off to find Iboee.
“What happened?” Gladys asked.
“I discovered a way to fix everything grandma. We’ll be outta the ring in not time. Baloo out there was too dumb to take these away, and I know what I need to experiment with this little devil,” He said as he held up the orb.
The door squealed as it opened, like a stuck pig. Iboee, Iké and the second guard stood in the doorway, shadows that displaced the sun. “Bring him,” Iboee ordered to Iké.
Iké waltzed in, opened the door and dragged Warrens out. Any sense of fair treatment to Warrens before this point had been lost. There was a new anger rooted in his captor’s movements. They led Warrens to a warehouse stockpiled with weapons, armor and other vestiges of the Unification Wars.
Inside the warehouse there were benches, a welding station, a mobile fabricator, even an eyewash station. The warehouse was grimy. The oil smeared walls combined with poor lighting gave the warehouse a sinister feel. One lone ceiling fan spun lazily, and did nothing to alleviate the stifling heat.
“We...treat you quite well wouldn’t you say Mista Wahhens?” Iboee asked.
“Sure. You threaten my grandma hourly, kill anyone who offends you, you-”
“I asked about you Wahhens,” Iboee said with his impish grin.
“I suppose I’d say that I’ve been treated fairly,” He replied.
“Then why do you communicate with the outside world? Why do you give away your position when I do everything in my power to make you as comfortable as I can? Do you not like my gifts?” Iboee asked.
“Iboee, what are you talking about?”
“I talking about the data you uploaded onto that server. Iké saw what you did. You take my kindness and spit on it!”
“I did no such thing! I didn’t know the device would upload data! I didn’t know that it had data to upload!”
“Then why do you think it do this?”
“I have no idea Iboee! That’s what I’ve been wondering! It’s like any file drive, you plug it in and data is uploaded!”
“Still, my security has been breached! You have given the location of my munitions factory away, and you’ve failed to produce the weapon you promised to me.”
“It’s been ten days Iboee!”
“And I thought a genius like you could figure it out in seven. Normally I would kill for such failure, but you still have value Mista Wahhens. I still put you to work. Welcome to your new home!” Iboee said as he held out his arms.
“What?” Warrens gasped.
“Take the weapon from him. We figure it out on our own,” Iboee ordered the guards. Warrens couldn’t believe what was happening. He was going to be forced into slave labor. The room began to spin, and the air became hazy. Warrens shook his head and tried to regain his bearings.
“What about my grandma?” Warrens yelled as his notebook and the device were confiscated.
“You work, she live. Best deal you going to get,” Iboee said, his words laced with ice.
“You can’t do this!” Warrens howled. He struck his captors who were seizing his property. Iké recovered, removed a syringe from his jacket and plunged it Warrens shoulder.
The lumbering mechanic felt his legs grow weak. He collapsed right as his world faded to black.
Even with his indomitable strength, the chains felt heavy on Warrens’ wrists and neck. For the past eighteen months labored in chains and was forced to assemble weapons of mass destruction with his bare hands. He dragged a nuclear core encased in lead from one end of the warehouse to the other while Iké just stood and watched. Warrens glared at the guard but his eyes were covered by sunglasses which protected him from witnessing the cruelty of Warrens’ captivity. His clothes were tattered rags, oil was a permanent fixture to his skin and his skin had been worn raw from the chains.
Once Warrens secured the nuclear core inside of the missile, he approached Iké. His chains only allowed him to make it halfway to the door.
“We’re going to need a motherboard for all of the missiles. A nuclear arsenal isn’t much use if you can’t control where they go,” Warrens said. Even he heard the echo of defeat in his voice.
“I’ll tell the boss,” Iké replied.
The door squeaked open and Iboee walked in. “Oyyy-yaaaayyy!” He screamed as he held his arms up again in triumph. Diallo’s forces must’ve won another battle. Whether he liked it or not, Warrens had shifted the tide of the war into Diallo’s favor.
“Mista Wahhens, yah workin’ hard?” Iboee asked. Iké leaned over and whispered something into his ear. “Yah, we can do that,” Iboee replied. Mista Wahhens, are you ready for another boxing match?”
“Iboee, I’ve been moving missile cores all day, I’m in no shape for-”
“That is why I feed you so good! I don’t feed other workers as good!” Iboee snarled. “You entertain de soldiers! Fight is tonight!”
Warrens stumbled across the floor the following morning. He was tired, bruised, and bloody. A shadow of his glory days. Forced to fight soldiers before they shipped out, Iboee had bets placed on all the fights, which only resulted in the soldiers using Warrens as a punching bag. He didn’t care though. His mind was focused on how he was going to escape, on how he was going to right all the wrongs done by these savages. He didn’t know how, but he had faith.
For three days Warrens’ wounds healed as he built the war machines which fueled Di
allo’s armies. On the fourth day, Iké came in with an envelope.
“Parts you wanted. Hard to get. Don’t screw it up.”
Warrens glared at Iké. Not like it did him any good. He took the envelope, tore it open and spilled the contents on the table. He reached for the instruction manual which described how to solder the motherboard together. However, there was a small computer in the midst of the chips. There was also a note:
Mr. Warrens,
Came across your upload at The Grid. This should help you with your...device and grant you exclusive access. Best of luck setting yourself free.
-A Friend
Warrens’ heart nearly burst through his chest. If he was caught with a small computer such as this one, Iboee would execute him for certain. He crumpled the note and shoved it into his tattered pocket. He took the circuit boards and installed them into the nuclear missiles. He could hardly believe that he was helping Diallo develop a nuclear arsenal, but he had no choice. The Core wouldn’t see things the same way, but he figured that he’d deal with the authorities once they actually got involved.
“Tell Iboee it’s done,” Warrens said. Iké nodded his head and left the Warehouse. Warrens inspected the handheld computer. It didn’t look like much more than a small pane of glass, but he had to believe it would give him a fighting chance. He turned the computer over, and noticed the word “Coeus” inscribed on the back.
The glass screen flashed to life. “Please place thumbprint here,” a humble, robotic voice asked. Warrens looked at his thumb, but did as the computer asked.
“Thank you...Jackson...Warrens. You are now the exclusive wielder of Coy-us,” the device said. “Ready for synchronization.”