The Ninth: Invasion

by Benjamin Schramm

  “I’ll drink to that,” Doug said, grabbing a bottle.

  “Oh no you won’t.” Mr. Springate quickly snatched the bottle away.

  Cain patted Rhea on the back as the troopers chuckled.

  “Master Hooten!” a loud voice thundered through the room. “This is security force three, eight, eight gamma. We urge you and your fellow troopers to come out in a peaceful fashion with your hands above your heads.”

  “Looks like they found us sooner rather than later,” Ronald said.

  “Marie, status report,” Tyra whispered as the troopers ducked away from the windows.

  “I did the best I could; got you nine side arms,” Marie said, sliding the guns along the floor to the squad leader.

  Tyra looked over the unimpressive weapons and passed them to the best shots.

  “Cain, you got a plan to get us out of here?” she asked.

  “Me? I did my part getting you here.”

  “This is your home. Don’t you know a way out?”

  “Of course I do, but it’s not like I had to worry about snipers as a kid. Never thought about having to avoid weapons fire. I could get you anywhere you want to go, but they’ll be able to pick us off before we get there.”

  “Not necessarily,” Romero said, crawling into the room in a practiced manner. This clearly wasn’t the first time security forces had surrounded the bar.

  “What are you thinking?” Cain asked.

  “Let’s just say I didn’t pick this place for the view. There is a main transit way out front. I bribed a buddy of mine at the transit bureau to hold the container. If you guys can get to it, my buddy can get you anywhere you want to go.”

  “I’m sorry for the trouble we’ve caused you,” Rhea said.

  “Don’t worry about it, little lady. A friend of Cain’s is a friend of mine. Sorry I took a swing at you.”

  “He might not look it, but Romero is eating this stuff up,” Cain said with a grin. “He always loved the getaways.”

  “Sounds like we have a plan. Where is the container?” Ronald asked.

  “Just out front. Shouldn’t be hard getting to it. The security forces won’t think twice about it.” Romero gestured for the troopers to follow.

  “Why not? Isn’t the container a bit obvious?” Hiroko asked.

  “Sure is, but without my friend down at the transit bureau it would be useless to you guys. No local controls. Doesn’t matter if you had the best hacker in the Commonwealth, you still couldn’t get it to move an inch without the bureau’s say so. The security forces know that and won’t think twice about the container,” Romero said with a grin.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re speaking from experience?” Dante asked.

  Romero chuckled as he guided them through the bar to the front door.

  “This is your final warning, Master Hooten. We have been authorized to use any force necessary to bring you in,” the amplified voice of the security forces thundered through the bar.

  “Follow my lead,” Cain said.

  He calmly opened the front door and stepped out into a spotlight. Raising his hands high above his head, he started walking forward. The troopers with weapons concealed them before following suit. Calmly walking out of the bar, they spotted the container off to their left. Slowly, Cain walked away from the bar, not showing any signs of resistance. The spotlight made it hard to count, but there had to have been at least four-dozen soldiers pointing their rifles at the troopers. They were arranged in three long rows, one row on either side of the street blocking off the approach of locals, and one directly across from the bar.

  As Romero had said, the security forces were completely ignoring the container. Cain discretely looked over the troopers, judging the distance they had to travel. After three more slow steps, he bolted for the container. By the time the security forces opened fire, the troopers were safely inside. The container was surprisingly large and was already half full of fruits, vegetables and miscellaneous crates. The troopers with side arms whipped them out and laid down suppression fire. The security forces backed away from the container as the troopers intentionally missed. Brent noticed civilians in the nearby houses moving away from their windows, trying to hide as the troopers and security forces exchanged fire. A monitor at the far end of the container sparked to life. A slender figure in a plain uniform with a nametag appeared.

  “Wow, you guys are noisy. Where to?” the figure asked.

  “Well, Cain?” Tyra asked.

  “Take us to Control,” Cain said to the monitor.

  Something caught Brent’s attention. In one of the houses, he could make out a woman fighting to get closer to the window while her husband held her back.

  “Wait a minute!” he shouted.

  “What’s wrong?” Cain asked.

  “Weren’t there kids playing when we first went into the bar?” he asked urgently.

  “Maybe. What’s that got to do with anything?” Ronald asked.

  Brent searched the container, checking the crates.

  “We don’t have time for this, sir!” Dante called out, as several bolts of energy streaked by.

  Finally, he found what he was searching for. One of the crates had a loosened lid. As he raised the lid, several huddled kids started to scream.

  “What are they doing in here?” Tyra shouted.

  “They must have hid in here when the security forces arrived,” Cain said covering his ears. They probably didn’t think about the container any more than the security forces did.”

  Brent tried to calm them down, but he only scared them more. Taking a step back, he slowly and gracefully bowed to them like the tripod. A hush fell over the children as they watched the elaborate gesture.

  “No one is going to hurt you,” he said as gently as he could.

  “So we’ve got some extra passengers,” Erin said. “Shouldn’t we be getting out of here?”

  “Forget it,” the figure on the monitor spoke. “I’ll help you get away, but I’m not going to get in trouble for kidnapping. Especially not kids.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Tyra said to the monitor. “We don’t plan on taking them with us.”

  As the others fired on the security forces, Brent helped the kids out of the crate.

  “That’s a wonderful sentiment,” Erin pressed, “but how do you propose we get them out of here without filling them full of holes?”

  “I hate to ask this of you, but Angela, could you increase the fear of the security forces?” Brent asked.

  “I’d love to, but right now there isn’t a lick of fear in them.” She shrugged. “They’re pretty sure of themselves.”

  “Probably think we are cornered,” Doug said with a sigh.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Brent said with a smirk. “I’ll light the fire; you pour on the gas.”

  The troopers looked at him, wondering what he had in mind. Brent kneeled next to the oldest looking girl. The others were huddled behind her.

  “Your mom lives in that building over there, doesn’t she?” he asked.

  “How’d you know?” the girl asked, obviously scared.

  “I saw your mother. She is worried about you and wants you to come home. Would you like to go see her?”

  The girl nodded and sniffled.

  “Okay, then I have a favor to ask of you and your friends.”

  “A favor?” one of the young boys asked.

  “That’s right. We need to scare the men shooting at us just a little bit so they’ll stop shooting. When they hold their fire, I promise I’ll get you home, okay?”

  “So, what do you want us to do?” the girl asked.

  “I want you all to scream as loud as you can. Can you do that for me?”

  “I’m a really good screamer!” the youngest girl said with pride.

  “Excellent. When I give you the signal, I want you all to scream.”

  The children nodded to him.

  “Get ready, Angela. I don’t know if this will work,�
�� Brent said, taking a step toward the open door of the container.

  The security forces were really pouring it on. Hundreds of bolts of energy zipped by as they attacked the container. Brent pointed at the children and they started screaming bloody murder. He shot a hopeful glance at Angela. She shook her head. It wasn’t enough. The security forces weren’t frightened by the screams of the children. Drawing in a deep breath, he hoped he could use the same trick twice.

  “Hold your fire!” Brent shouted as loud as he was able.

  His throat ached as he tried to shout in the same fearsome voice he used on sergeant Romani. The bolts of light flying past the container came to an abrupt end. A look of intense concentration filled Angela’s face. Brent reached out his hand to the children. The lead girl hesitantly took it and pulled the other children with her. Penny and Mr. Springate lifted the youngest and chased after them. Brent headed toward the house, keeping his attention firmly locked on it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see several soldiers shaking in panic. Before he reached the door, it swung open. The woman he had seen earlier eyed him in terror as she reached for the children. Brent and the others hurried the children into the house. The woman stared at them with a mixture of horror and gratitude.

  “I can’t hold them much longer,” Angela shouted, in obvious pain.

  Penny and Mr. Springate were already sprinting back toward the container. Brent ran with all the speed he could muster back toward the container. The security forces weren’t trembling as strongly as before. He noticed one soldier aiming his rifle straight at him. Brent dived for the container as he watched the soldier pull the trigger. The other security forces stopped shaking and opened fire as well. Skidding along the ground, Brent watched the torrent of energy pulses flash past the open side of the container.

  “Control. Now!” Cain shouted at the monitor.

  The open side of the container sealed. The container lurched as it took off at full speed, sending a couple of troopers falling into the bags of produce. As the adrenaline faded, a surging pain flooded Brent’s senses.

  “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen!” the figure on the monitor prattled on. “That easily tops the best 3P.”

  “Would you shut up?” Cain said, tossing an over ripe bit of fruit at the monitor.

  “Brent, are you okay?” Cassandra asked.

  “Quickly!” Hiroko pushed Owen over. “He’s clutching his leg.”

  The smell of burning flesh assaulted his nose. As Owen moved Brent’s hands away, an arc of smoldering skin could be seen through a long hole in his pant leg.

  “Looks like he barely avoided a direct hit on his left leg,” Owen said, checking over the wound. “Another inch to the right and he’d have lost the whole leg.”

  “Can you do anything?” Cassandra asked in a panic.

  “Don’t worry. It probably hurts like you couldn’t believe, but he’ll live. Hiroko, hand me my bag. I’ve got some pain killers in there; the good stuff.” Owen winked at him.

  He watched as Owen took care of the wound. It was all Brent could do not the scream out in pain as Owen stitched up the loose flaps of skin. He couldn’t believe it was the same Owen who had nearly fainted at the sight of Hiroko’s blood back during the exams.

  “Now it’s best to keep pressure off the leg while it heals,” Owen said, finishing up. “Not that he has much choice, I’d imagine putting pressure on it will hurt beyond what even he can take. Someone will need to help him around.”

  Cassandra nodded as she helped Brent up.

  “How are you doing, Angela?” he asked as he leaned on Cassandra.

  “I’ve had better days. You got anything for a splitting headache, Owen?”

  “I have just the thing.” Owen searched through his bag before tossing Angela a small bottle. “Be careful though. That headache is your body’s way of telling you to lay off the Weaver abilities for a while.”

  “You heard the man; no more special tricks for you,” Cain said, with obvious concern in his voice.

  Angela stared at him in surprise and slowly started to blush.

  “So what’s this ‘control’ we’re headed to?” Tyra asked.

  “It’s just like it sounds,” Cain said. “It’s the central command facility for all of Core Industries. If the corporation were a human body, Control would be the brain. My father, along with every other person in charge of things, lives there.”

  “Won’t it be heavily defended?” Rhea asked.

  “Of course. Trying to get in through the front doors would be committing suicide.”

  “But we’re not going in through the front doors, are we?” Dante asked with a grin.

  “As Brent is now painfully aware, no one seems to give these containers any thought.” Cain chuckled as Cassandra frowned at him. “You’d think a corporation wouldn’t put so much blind faith in the transit bureau. When we get through this, I’ll have to talk to my father about the flaw in our security network.”

  “Won’t they realize where we are headed and try to stop us?” Tyra asked.

  “I don’t think you understand exactly how large the container network is. It’s a planetary network consisting of hundreds of thousands of containers moving around almost constantly. Without assistance from the transit bureau, finding us would be like looking up at the night sky and searching for a random planet.”

  “But you can’t see planets with the naked eye, right?” Doug asked.

  “I think that was the point he was making,” Marie said with a chuckle.

  “Plus, you won’t rat us out, will you?” Cain asked the monitor.

  “Frankly, I’d love to turn you over right here and now,” the figure on the monitor said in annoyance, “but Romero only paid me half of what he promised. I get the other half when you arrive safely at your destination.”

  “They grow up so fast.” Cain mockingly wiped at a fake tear. “One day they are rigging card games, the next they are corrupting officials. Where does the time go?”

  “Enough fooling around,” Tyra said frostily. “I trust you can get us to your father once we reach Control?”

  “You can count on me,” Cain said with a nod.

  “Angela is out of commission,” Humphrey mumbled, “and Brent’s not going to be doing any acrobatics for a while. I hope somebody else is ready to pull a miracle out of their hat.”

  The troopers waited anxiously in the container as it quickly moved through the city. Several small lights lining the ceiling were the only sources of illumination. There were no windows, and the door had sealed completely shut so there was no way to be sure where they were going. With an abrupt lurch in the direction opposite the one they’d been traveling, the container came to a stop. Several troopers were thrown against the far wall. Apparently, the containers hadn’t been designed with the comfort of passengers in mind. The armed troopers aimed their side arms at the door as it hissed and slid open.

  The troopers quickly filed out of the container. It struck Brent as odd that there weren’t any other containers around. In fact, the entire area was devoid of personnel. There wasn’t a single soldier or dockworker to be seen. Cain quickly led the squad down the hallways of Control. As they moved deeper in, Brent became alarmed as they failed to run into anyone. If this place really was the nerve center of Core Industries as Cain said, shouldn’t there have been more people?

  “Is it just me, or is this place understaffed?” Dante asked.

  “So, it’s not just me?” Brent asked.

  “It’s odd,” Cain said, rubbing his chin. “We should have run into someone by now, or at least had to avoid a patrol. It’s almost as if . . .”

  “This was a trap?” a deep voice asked from behind them.

  Turning, the squad found dozens of soldiers pouring out of side passageways. Brent could hear the clacking of boots all around them. The squad of troopers was completely surrounded by security forces. An old looking, fat man stepped out from behind an archway after the security forces were
in place. He had a pig like nose that flared when he took breath.

  “It’s good to see you again, Master Hooten,” the man said with a smile that shouted victory. “It’s been too long.”

  “Is that your father?” Angela whispered.

  “Don’t be silly. My father would never let himself get that fat.”

  She raised an eyebrow, as she looked Cain over with his plump waistline.

  “I don’t have to worry about press conferences,” he said with a wink.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to get here,” the fat man said. “I had assumed Alden’s son would make it here much sooner. Plus, your squad moves dreadfully slow. We’ve been waiting . . .”

  “For us to get far enough away from the container that we can’t use it to escape,” Dante interrupted the fat man.

  “I hate it when people finish my sentences for me!” the fat man shouted.

  Suddenly, a tall man casually walked through a hallway some distance behind the fat man. The tall man glanced in their direction but continued walking right past them. A moment later, the same man walked back the other way. Pausing in the middle of the hallway, the tall man turned and headed toward the mass of soldiers and troopers.

  “Good evening, Director Cartier,” the man said in a cheerful voice, seemingly ignorant of the armed men. “Have you heard the news?”

  “What are you doing here?” Cartier was flustered beyond words. “I thought . . . shouldn’t you be . . . when did . . . what news?”

  “Well, apparently someone sent the PSF after a small group sheltering someone who had a family connection to the ITU.”

  “What?” Cartier asked in a stupor.

  “The PSF opened fire on the fugitives as they were caught fleeing the scene. Now, here’s where it gets interesting. They planned on using a container, of all things, to get away. Imagine that. Anyway, before they departed, the fugitives apparently found some children had stowed away in their getaway container. I can only imagine what kind of shock that had to have been.”