“Will my grandma will be used as a bargaining chip against me?”
“We can update the the agreement if you wish. Soon you work to get paid rather than keep her alive.”
Iboee and Abdul came back the following morning to escort Warrens down to where the negotiations for peace were to be held. Warrens and Gladys were already dressed by the time the other two arrived.
“Personal escorts. Y’know, some people pay really good money for this,” Gladys said.
Outside the main gate, a trail of black limousines rolled through and up the driveway. Servants flooded to the cars, releasing the tuxedoed warlords and their colonels in full military regalia and decorations.
“Okafor, peace be upon you,” Diallo said with a wide grin. In the flash of a smile, it seemed that all the horrors, all the tortures, all the hatred instilled from one side to the other vanished.
“Diallo, peace be upon you,” Okafor replied as the two warlords embraced one another. “I am glad that you have called for this peace conference. This destructive war has gone on long enough, it is time that Africa heals.”
“I agree. Once Akiloye arrives, we can discuss our terms.”
“I am curious Diallo. What is the superweapon that you claim to possess?” Okafor asked.
“Ah, It is right here,” Diallo said as he pulled the orb out of his pocket. Diallo noticed Iboee and Warrens walking down the stairs. “And here is the man who mastered this great weapon for me. Solomon, may I present to you Mr. Warrens, my new technology adviser.”
Okafor forced himself to smile as he held his hand out to Warrens. Okafor was a man of pride forced to heel thanks to Warrens’ machinations. The resentment in his eyes couldn’t be concealed, and Diallo introducing Warrens was like rubbing salt in the wound.
“And this is Mr. Warrens’ grandmother, Gladys,” Diallo said as he turned Okafor to introduce her. Okafor’s eyes flashed in understanding of Warrens’ compliance and he bit back a silent curse that he didn’t think to steal Warrens for himself.
A rumble like thunder echoed in the distance. Everyone’s heads looked around in a daze of confusion until reality settled in.
“JACKSON!” Gladys shrieked as she lunged forward, snatched the orb out of Diallo’s hand and pressed it into Warrens’ chest. The metal stretched outward, enveloping Warrens into some kind of cocoon.
Explosions burst on all sides of the Presidential Palace as man and tank descended upon the compound. Bullets flew in all directions as Diallo’s Continental Guard charged out to rebuff the invaders, while the South African Liberation Front sought to destroy both of his rivals in a tsunami of soldiers. Thousands of SALF soldiers spilled in, while the artillery and tanks laid siege upon the palace.
The metal hardened into armor around Warrens’ skin. He looked around him and saw the alabaster walls blown out and shards of glass everywhere. In front of him Okafor and Diallo lay dead. Iboee was face down and covered in dust. Down in front of him, one hand still on his shin, the other holding the cracked Coeus computer. Warrens saw his grandmother lying motionless on the floor. Her eyes were closed and she had the look of peace on her face.
Warrens unleashed a guttural howl of anguish, one that chilled even the souls of the hardened soldiers who were invading the palace. He’d failed his role as his grandmother’s protector, and allowed these monsters to take her from him. What’s worse is that this war was so close to being over, so close to being finished, yet one last monster sought out to prolong the bloodletting and seize the mantle of ruler for himself.
“If death is all you want, then that is what I will give you!” Warrens cried as he felt himself take over every machine with a microchip. He could see through the drones and tanks, and hear the voices of soldiers relaying their positions through their comm devices. Every machine around him became an extension of his consciousness, as though they were integrated into the fabric of his being.
“Time to kill all communications-” Warrens was cut off as he felt his body become wracked with pain. Electricity surged across every vein while he was encased within the armor.
As he looked around, he realized in horror that it was Iboee wielding an electric stun blaster.
Warrens found no means of escape from the continuous circuit. He let his concentration go, which caused the metal to shift back into an orb and his pocket computer to fall on the floor. Warrens collapsed, helpless against the electrocutor.
Iboee bent down, picked up the orb and stared at it as though he was entranced.
“Now I shall become ruler of Africa!” Iboee screamed in his mesmerized state. The metal unfurled and draped Iboee head to toe. The metal hardened into an armor, and an evil cackle echoed inside. He reached down for the Coeus computer and slapped it into the forearm.
“Thank you Mista Wahhens for helping me become ruler of Africa,” Iboee said as he drew a pistol and aimed it at Warrens.
“You foul little imp,” Warrens snarled. “That armor is mine!”
Droplets flowed from the armor towards Warrens. They pooled on his arm, reforming a gauntlet.
Iboee fired his blaster, but the droplets ripped through the blaster bolt, and made it evaporate in the air. He looked at Warrens in horror as the last of the great metal floated onto him.
Warrens held out his arm towards Iboee. A gun barrel took shape and molded around his hand.
“This is for my grandma,” Warrens said as he fired at Iboee. A red mist sprayed from the back of his head and the imp collapsed.
“Now, let’s knock out the rest of these bastards,” He growled. A circuit board-like pattern emerged from his armor, metallic veins etched across his body.
Soldiers on both sides of Warrens opened fire, and their bullets bounced off of his metallic body. He lunged for the soldiers in front of him and struck as hard as he could. The sickening crack from their caved-in skulls made Warrens’ stomach lurch, but he seized their rifles and integrated them into his armor.
Warrens marched into the fray and executed every soldier that stood in his path. He would grant no mercy to these battle-crazed veterans unless they laid down their arms. Warrens collected more rifles, until he was firing from rifles on his arms and shoulders.
Warrens walked through the breach in the wall where the SALF soldiers had stormed the palace, only to find the entire city of Cairo aflame in violence. Akiloye was making one final bid for a United Africa under his rule.
An envoy of metal was rolling right for the palace with the fervor of conquerors. Diallo’s soldiers surrendered en masse no doubt hearing of their leader’s death, but Akiloye’s forced executed all without discretion. Many units picked their guns back up and resumed fighting with a resolve that annihilation be their only option.
Warrens had a gut feeling that Akiloye was in the midst of this envoy, as well as his chance to end the war once and for all. Helicopters hummed in the distance, all forces converging on the palace.
He felt the tanks all around him. He sensed the signals from satellites overhead, armed with missiles that would rain armageddon from the skies. Through his will, the metal was taking control of everything, turning Warrens into a mobile war machine.
Warrens saw through the cameras of more drones that were closing in. He could feel in the prickling of his skin that he had control of the tanks too. He could see in the eyes of the soldiers that they hadn’t realized any of this yet.
Warrens willed the tanks guns to turn around. They were a fully mechanized force, one that Akiloye spent many credits acquiring on the black markets.
“Fire!” Warrens screamed, and his two tanks unleashed their firepower at the oncoming envoy. The armor in front absorbed the brunt, exploding into a mass of fire. He could hear the unit reloading for another volley while the helicopters were closing in.
Through the drones Warrens saw that helicopters were closing in, but he willed the missiles to be launched and end that aerial assault.
The tanks in front of him unleashed another volley against Akiloye
’s envoy. This time, his soldiers fired back with anti-tank missiles. Both tanks exploded and rained fire down on Warrens. The searing heat threatened him out of his armor, but he pressed on.
A gun speeder leaped over the ledge, and the machine gun spewed bullets like a dragon. The bullets failed to penetrate Warrens’ armor, but each impact felt like a savage blow from Mac McGee. Warrens fired back and killed the gunner. He charged the speeder, but the driver abandoned their game of chicken. Warrens grabbed ahold of the machine gun and tried to rip it off.
“Too bad this thing doesn’t give me super strength,” Warrens groaned. He willed his arm into a blade, sheared off the bolts and attached the machine gun to his shoulder.
The helicopters fired their machine guns at Warrens, but four smoking missiles sent the helicopters to the scrap heap when they rained down as giant fireballs from the sky.
Warrens knew that he had control of the satellites since he could see himself from space. At a thought the missiles were activated, and the envoy was targeted by the laser guidance systems.
He walked to where the remains of his tanks were and stood before them. Soldiers charged up a sandy hill, while he fired against them the machine gun mounted on his shoulder.
“AKILOYE!” Warrens howled into the wind.
The envoy came to a stop, and a man stepped out from one of the speeders. He was a tall, muscular man wearing a maroon beret. His eyes burned with the same intensity as what Warrens saw in Diallo and Okafor, except his eyes burned with pride over taking Cairo once and for all.
“You must be Jackson Warrens. The man who stopped my forces in the South. Africa’s deadliest son,” Akiloye said.
“The Core authorities are on their way. Surrender to them, or I will knock out you and your entire army!” Warrens screamed from the top of the hill.
A smile spread across Akiloye’s lips. He let loose a hideous cackle, which erupted into all of the men on the ground howling in a chorus of laughter. “How does one man defeat me?” He asked.
Warrens already knew the answer as he felt himself let go of a missile through the satellite.
Warrens dropped the machine gun, leaped down to the ground and willed the armor to recede. He stood face to face with the final dictator who sought to bring a continent under his bloodthirsty rule.
“This for all those you’ve hurt,” Warrens said as he raised his fists. He unleashed all of his fury into a right hook which drove Akiloye into the ground. He stood up, blood flowing from his lip and raised his fists against Warrens.
Akiloye swung wildly, while Warrens let loose his anger and rage, each strike a defiant blow for all of the people of Africa whose lives had been ruined in this reckless war.
Akiloye’s soldiers fired upon Warrens, but he willed the armor back on, which protected him from the bullets. His final blow landed against the side of Akiloye’s skull, a sickening crack that echoed across the battlefield. The last dictator collapsed to the ground, a gaze of shock buried in his eyes. Warrens turned to face a stunned army, all guns fixed on him.
Just as Akiloye’s forces were about to retaliate, a missile from above rained down and brought ruin to the entire envoy. Hundreds of men were caught in the ensuing blast, and the scorching heat threatened to roast Warrens alive. The army was broken, and another missile rained from above to finish the job. Two more missiles streaked across the sky and decimated the Presidential Palace, reducing one of the most opulent symbols of African Monarchial rule to dust.
Warrens could hear that Core soldiers on their way, the violence too much for them to ignore any longer.
As the dust settled, Warrens gazed upon the wasteland all around him. Scores of vehicles were now fused and twisted metal. Sand was burned to glass, the dust of a palace blew across the desert.
Hundreds of Core soldiers swarmed the remnants of the battlefield. They looked around in disbelief at Warrens, the only man standing. They screamed for him to surrender, and threatened to shoot if he didn’t.
“Can’t let them have the metal. It’s too powerful. Nobody should have this weapon, not even me,” Warrens said to himself.
The Core soldiers continued to threaten him to surrender.
“The metal...exists in all states at once. Then...that must mean…” Warrens raised his hands in surrender. The Core soldiers watched his every move with their sights trained on him. As the soldiers watched, the metal armor Warrens was encased in oxidized and rusted away, the remnants of the deadly weapon scattered in the wind.
For four long days, the Core didn’t know what they were going to charge Jackson Warrens with. Because of his involvement, the entire political infrastructure of Africa was in disarray, and the Core was forced to get involved in peacekeeping efforts to keep the area stable. The continent was no longer unified under one banner, the violence wrought by the civil war created hundreds of new governments in the continental dissolution. The Core wasn’t pleased with having to deal with all of these new governments.
The clear offense was Warrens “hacking” into Defense satellites, as well as the murder of hundreds of “civilians” despite the fact that they were armed to the teeth. For the time being, Warrens was placed in isolation until the authorities could figure out what to do with him.
Outside a freighter ship descended to the facility that held Warrens. A man carried a briefcase, one who was able to navigate the maze and bureaucracy of the military prison system. He was escorted to Warrens’ holding cell and left alone with the indomitable boxer.
Warrens stood face to face with a man in a gray suit and a black tie neither of which seemed to fight quite right.
“I’ll be damned, the infamous son of Bud Warrens,” the man said. “My name is Colonel John C. Henry. Glad to see that you put that little care package of ours to use Mr. Warrens. Took my computer guy months to rig up that device you smashed,” He said.
“If he wants it back, I can fix it,” Warrens replied.
“Nah. Destabilizing a continental government, ending a three way civil war and eliminating three despots in one shot. I’d say you put it to good use,” John said.
“Why are you here?” Warrens asked.
“Well Mr. Warrens I’m creating a team and I’m in need of a mechanic...”
---The End---
5
“Fire in the hole!” The Foreman screamed. They leaned down, plugged their ears and opened their mouths so their eardrums wouldn’t burst as the explosion rocked the entire mine. The debris fell like a heavy rain, men filled in the gap and hammered away at the rich vein of coal with their pickaxes as though they sought revenge against the body of a fallen god.
Lee sighed as he heaved at the coal vein in front of him. “Stay strong and do your time,” He whispered to himself in the English common tongue.
“Did I ever tell you boys about the origins of Ophridia?” Deng asked.
“Nobody wants to hear that stupid story again Deng,” Zao said.
Lee turned. “Aww c’mon Zao. Let Deng tell it, makes the workday go faster.”
“Thank you Lee,” Deng replied. “They say that before the Beijing astronomers found this little gem here, Ophridia was actually a serpent deity named Ophie who slithered through the ground on this planet. Wrangled and murdered by his celestial father, Ophie’s remains became the coal we dig from the soil.”
“Beautiful story Deng, really,” Bai said. “What about the fact that above ground all we see is black rock, while down here we find all this coal? Doesn’t that mean there was life down here at one point?”
“Yeah, the great serpent Ophie!” Deng said. Lee laughed at his infectious smile. Deng wiped the sweat from his bald scalp.
“What I mean is, if there was life here before, where is it now?” Bai asked.
“Ask the Botanist here. At least, he was back on Earth,” Zao said.
All of the men looked at Lee for his input on the conversation. His face grew flush and he gave a grin of embarrassment from all of the attention placed on him.
>
“Well a planet this rich in coal would mean that it used to teem with life, but given how barren it is now due to constant cloudcover it would signal a massive die-off of plant and animal life-”
“Ha! Told you Deng!” Bai said.
“But the life on this planet could’ve been the great serpent Ophie,” Lee said with a grin. Deng burst out laughing and slapped Bai on the back.
“Get back to work!” the foreman screamed in the native mandarin tongue. The men lowered their heads and dove back into mining the rich coal vein they’d struck. The remaining hours of their shift were spent in silence until the whistle blew.
“Who’s up for a drink at the Eternal Dragon?” Zao asked.
“I’m in,” Lee said.
“Me too. I gots more stories about the great serpent Ophie,” Deng said.
“Why don’t you let that go?” Zao asked. “We’re a planet full of people the Chinese Governors exported to help with Mother China’s overpopulation problem.” Zao couldn’t contain the bitterness in his voice over being a displaced civilian.
“It’s alright Zao, just keep your head down and work hard. We’re bound to get out of here sometime,” Lee said. “Ai ya! I’m tired. What I wouldn’t give to see the sunlight again.”
Zao turned and flashed a disgusted sneer. “It’s Ophridia, the sun never shines here. It’s as gray as the coal we dig from the ground.” A string of cursing in Mandarin erupted nearby. A miner was being dragged by three guards dressed in scarlet red, the colors of the Emperor Yiu Mei’s Elite soldiers. The man pleaded for his life, while the guards only seemed interested in beating him with their clubs.
“Another victim of Yiu Mei’s ‘Xiongbu,’ his policy of terror to keep us in line,” Bai said.
“Somebody should help him,” Deng said.
“No! There’s nothing we can do! Get in the tavern!” Lee hissed. He didn’t want to watch this poor man get beaten in the streets and knew that onlookers were targeted next.
“Somebody should’ve helped that poor guy,” Deng said as he sat down to a table and ordered a round of rice liquor for the four men. Lee tried to shake the image of the poor man from his head and deep down he knew there was nothing that they could do to help him. Intervention on the man’s behalf would’ve meant death.
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