Enlisted

by Nathan Pedde

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Des sauntered into his uncle’s townhouse. He took off his dripping wet jacket and shoes and went into the kitchen. Des was slightly shocked to see Sheemo sitting at the kitchen table.

  “You’re home?” Des said.

  “Yes… Why wouldn’t I be?” Sheemo replied.

  “Cause you’re never home. It seems like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

  “I’m home to eat something, then I need to go back to a project I’m working on,” Sheemo said.

  Des nodded, striding toward the fridge.

  “What happened to your face?” Sheemo asked, staring at him while holding a bite of food on his fork.

  “I made Susan angry at me, so I went over to her house to apologize, and I saw a bunch of thugs going to mug her, so I stepped in to stop them. Got punched in the face as a result,” Des said.

  Des sat at the table. The fridge was forgotten.

  “That’s not like you?” Sheemo replied, eyes narrowed. “You tend to shy away from conflict.”

  “Sometimes it’s time to put your big-boy-pants-on and face the problems head-on instead of ignoring it-”

  “Like your grades at school?”

  “Yeah… I’m working on it. I have a couple of big tests and midterms coming up, so I’m hoping to push my grade back the other way.”

  “That’s good. And about the military academy-”

  “I know. It’s for the best. I’m trying to get in,” Des interrupted before Sheemo could give him a spiel.

  “Really? I thought you were dead set against it?”

  “I am. I don’t like it at all, but it’s the better choice in the matter.”

  “Better to become an officer, than be conscripted as a marine,” Sheemo agreed.

  “That’s uncles point. If I can excel, I can choose where I want to serve. Keep out of the Marines.”

  Sheemo’s phone flashed, and Sheemo picked it up.

  “What’s that?” Des said. “Text message from a girl?”

  “No. News article,” Sheemo said.

  “Oh, news.”

  “Looks like there was a major battle,” Sheemo said, eyes fixed on the phone.

  “That’s not good,” Des replied.

  “Not all bad. According to this article, we took heavy losses, but the Earth Sphere Republic suffered a major defeat. They pulled out of the Trojan's and seventy percent of their ships at the battle were destroyed or lost.”

  “That’s good right?” Des said.

  “Yes. Hopefully it isn’t too little too late.”

  Des stood up. “I better eat something so I can get some studying done.”

  “I’ve got to get back. I’ll see you later.”

  Sheemo left the dirty dish on the table, hurrying out of the townhouse.

  Des pulled out his phone. He scrolled through the windows and got to Susan’s contact button. Des thought maybe he should call her. But he was unsure what to do.

  His phone rang. Des jumped slightly as it buzzed in his hand.

  It was Susan. Des took a deep breath and answered it.

  “Hi, Susan,” Des said.

  “Susan isn’t here,” an older male voice replied. “It’s the ‘mystery man.’ The one from earlier.”

  Des clenched his jaw in a sudden flash of anger. He immediately thought of Cryslis.

  “What do you want?” Des said.

  “I’ve finally decided what I’m going to do to you,” the Mysterious Man said. “Ryder, or is it Des? I’m not quite sure who the real you are. I want you to know I know who you are, what you are, who your friends are, who your family is. I’m unraveling your little cell, piece by piece and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

  “Keep him talking,” Cryslis called over the Neuronet. “I’ll record your entire conversation.”

  Des took a deep breath and unclenched his fist. “Where’s Susan?”

  “She’s fine,” the Mysterious Man said. “She’ll stay fine. She’s asleep.”

  “What have you…” Des began.

  “Shut it,” the Mysterious Man said. “Don’t you dare accuse me of hurting her. I would never do such a thing. Being a grown adult, she had a bottle of wine and passed out drunk. I think the stress of seeing a kid she’s practically raising turn to a life of ‘crime.’ I think it stressed her out.”

  “I don’t believe you…”

  “I don’t care what you believe, little pup.”

  “What do you want? Why call me? To gloat? Is your ego that low?” Des asked.

  “Sticks and stones buddy. I’ve called you to let you know a little secret. Besides to mock you a bit.”

  “And what’s that?” Des said.

  “I know who the saboteur is,” the Mysterious Man said. “And I have evidence that’ll prove it.”

  “Why don’t you help a guy out and give me a hint?” Des said. “Allow us to finish this so life can go back to normal.”

  The man laughed. “What’s the fun in that?”

  “Then why tell me anything at all?”

  “Because on top of having evidence that proves who the real attacker is. I also have evidence that’ll prove the saboteur is your older brother.”

  Des clenched his fist and slammed it onto the table.

  “Leave him out of this,” Des said.

  “No. You involved him. It’s on your head.”

  Des took a deep breath. Getting angry wasn’t going to help anything. “I’m still confused on why you called me?”

  “Because I want to play a game,” the Mysterious Man said.

  “A game? I may be young, but I’m not a child.”

  “The game is simple. Find out who the real saboteur is, it’s one person. You have forty-eight hours. Do that, and I’ll destroy the false evidence about your brother. I will also send you all the information you need to send the real saboteur to prison for a very long time.”

  “And if I don’t want to play?”

  “This isn’t a game you can get out of, kid,” the Mysterious Man said. “Either I’m sending a file of the saboteur to you so you can be a hero. Or the file will go to the cops, which will be full of incriminating evidence of your brother. Up to you.”

  Des was silent for a moment. He knew he needed to say something, but only insults came to his mind.

  “One more thing,” the Mysterious Man continued. “Congrats on not getting poisoned. I’m glad my shot missed, or else I would have had to wait to play the game, and no good would come from that. Not with what the saboteur is planning.”

  The Mysterious Man hung up, and silence filled the air. The phone slipped from his fingers to flop onto the table. He collapsed to the chair and sat, his head in his hands.

  “What do I do now?” Des asked Cryslis.

  “I need to think,” Cryslis said. “Study for now. I’ll contact you in a bit.”

  Elsie listened to the conversation between Des and the Mysterious Man. Fear rose through her spine as he made his threats and offered to play the game. She had to keep her emotions under control. Even when Sheemo walked into the warehouse Cooley and herself occupied. The warehouse turned research lab for Sheemo to get the scanner system to work better.

  She wore her disguise and some street clothes. Cooley, or Paul, hovered over Sheemo. Elsie felt Cooley’s impatience by his gruff movements, but his face remained passive.

  Sheemo listened in a headset while turning knobs on a big fancy computer. It looked like a play toy kids threw together and then called it a computer. It appeared more make-believe than real.

  “This is the scanner?” Elsie asked.

  “Yes,” Sheemo replied. “It is.”

  Cooley turned to Elsie. “Don’t mock it.”

  “I’m not mocking it,” Elsie said. “It—”

  “I didn’t have access to a big enough 3D printer to print out an extravagant looking case for all the fancy hardware inside of it,” Sheemo said.

  “But the previous version of it looked cool,” Elsie sa
id.

  “Yes,” Sheemo said. “But I have made this one much better with more sophisticated hardware. It doesn’t fit in the old chassis. Not if I wanted to include the cooling system.”

  Elsie bit her lip as she studied the equipment. She opened her mouth to make another quip. Before she could, Sheemo interrupted her.

  “I’m hunting for signals right now. And I need some quiet while I do it.”

  Elsie closed her mouth and glared at Sheemo. He ignored her, listening to his ugly computer. Cooley motioned Elsie over to one side. She followed him.

  “What’s up?” Elsie asked.

  “I’m giving Sheemo some time to breathe and think without us standing over his shoulder,” Cooley said.

  “I see. Could you’ve figured out to do that? I mean, is it new technology?”

  “The hardware isn’t new. It relies on the same quantum tech everything around here does.”

  “Then what’s so special about it?” Elsie asked.

  “It’s the configuration of the hardware, the software of the program and the use of it,” Cooley said.

  “Could you have done it?” Elsie asked.

  “If I had enough time and if I had an idea of what the end goal was,” Cooley said. “It’s the problem with this machine. I don’t fully understand the end game of it. I’ve been studying it all week, and I’m still discovering little things about it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s been designed to find communication signals from around the individual scanner location, and it can tell various information about the signal.”

  “Like who sent it? Where? when?” Elsie asked.

  “A little more complicated, but that’s the idea.”

  Sheemo pulled back out from the computer. “It doesn’t say who unless the signal has a name attached. Like a cell phone. But it assigns a unique code to each signal. It can flag when and where the signal reappears.”

  “What’s the end game?” Elsie asked.

  Sheemo blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “What’s this machines ultimate goal?” Cooley asked. “I discovered the machine can tell the difference in body temperature and you can tell who someone is from miles away.”

  Sheemo shuffled slightly in his seat. “That’s an experiment. This is a tool for law enforcement officers to help them solve crimes. The technology for each of these pieces aren’t new but imagine a device that can be used to identify a criminal from miles away. Imagine the possibilities of its use.”

  Cooley and Elsie looked at each other.

  “This isn’t good,” Elsie said, shaking her head. “Imagine if the enemy has the same thing?”

  “Are you successful?” Cooley asked.

  “Kinda,” Sheemo shrugged. “Come take a look at this.”

  Cooley and Elsie ambled over to the screen. On display was a list and placement of the start and finish of each signal.

  “These are the signals in question,” Sheemo said. “You can see the list has expanded greatly from the stuff I found for Ryder before.”

  “Some type of scrambler?” Cooley asked.

  “A very sophisticated one,” Sheemo said, nodding. “And actually, it might be multiple layers of scramblers. They’re protecting their tracks very well.”

  There was information they could use there, but she had no idea what. She needed to figure it out.

  What am I missing? Elsie thought.

  The meeting ended soon after. Cooley and Elsie left the warehouse, which left Sheemo to work by himself.

  Elsie sat in the passenger seat of Cooley’s recently purchased hover-car. The large hover-van was easy to spot, while the hover-car was easier to hide in the sea of vehicles. Cooley drove the narrow road, weaving his way through alleys and little streets.

  “Is everything all right?” Elsie asked, the hairs on her arms prickling.

  Something isn’t right, she thought.

  “We’re being followed,” Cooley said. “It has to be a Drone.”

  “Someone far away," Elsie said.

  “Message Cryslis. Get her to go to the warehouse.”

  Elsie thought of Cryslis and was quickly connected to the Neuronet.

  “Yes, Elsie,” Cryslis called.

  Elsie quickly updated Cryslis on the status of Sheemo and what was going on with them and the drone.

  “Lose the drone,” Cryslis ordered. “I’m on my way to the warehouse to check on Sheemo. I’ll be in my disguise.”

  Elsie turned to Cooley, relaying the conversation.

  “What’s the plan?” Elsie asked.

  Cooley steered left. “I need to lose this thing or capture it.”

  “What are our assets?”

  “In the trunk is a pin shooter.”

  “That should work,” Elsie said. “If I can get to the trunk.”

  “Try the glove box,” Cooley said.

  Elsie opened the glove box. She grabbed the object. However, it didn’t look like a standard pin shooter.

  “Is that a gun?” Elsie asked.

  “It’s not a gun,” Cooley said, smirking. “That would be illegal. It’s a stun gun.”

  Elsie looked up from the glove box. They were flying down a darkened alley when a large dumpster dived out in front of the car.

  “Sweet Jupiter…” Elsie yelled.

  The car smashed into the dumpster, bouncing off and smacked into the nearby building wall with a crunch. The dumpster flew away from the car to smash into a building on the opposite side of the alley. The vehicle crashed into the pavement, the hover-lifters failing.

  Elsie eyes swam. Her seat belt kept her still. Her head and her shoulders ached. Cooley lay limp on top of the steering wheel. His head had created a dent in the plastic glass but didn’t go through.

  “Cooley,” Elsie said. “Cooley, you alive.”

  Elsie reached over and touched Cooley’s neck. She felt a pulse.

  “Cryslis,” Elsie rasped, her throat dry. “I’m under attack. Cooley is down. The car is damaged. Acknowledge.”

  “Busy at the moment,” Cryslis said. “Two attackers at the warehouse. Where’s Des when you need him?”

  “You told him to go study,” Elsie said.

  “I know. I know. Stay sharp. I’ll be there soon.”

  Elsie heard the Neuronet line disconnect. She opened the glove box, pulling out the stun gun. It felt heavy in her hands. In the darkened alley, two figures walked in front of the car, while a third walked behind. They wore long dark clothing, holding stun batons in their hands. The dark stick-like objects sparked with electricity.

  Elsie disconnected her seat belt and pushed open the door. She used the car door as a shield as she aimed the stun gun at the figure on the right approaching from the front.

  “Stop right there,” Elsie screamed.

  “Hold on girly,” a person said from behind. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Elsie turned and aimed the stun gun at the lone figure behind her.

  “Bite my ass,” Elsie said.

  “Fine,” the person said. “Have it your way.” The figure placed one hand to his ear. “All units. Attack.”

  Elsie fired her gun. The twin stun projectiles struck true. Bolts of electric shock ran up the person, and the body dropped to the ground with a metallic crunch.

  “A stun gun,” the person said, this time from the figure who approached from the front, “only has one shot, and you wasted it. There are still two of me.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Elsie said.

  The two figures charged at Elsie. Their feet clanked on the concrete of the alleyway.

  Elsie dropped the stun gun onto the seat of the car. She ran away from the car and the figures back toward the downed figure. Elsie grabbed the stun baton from the figure. She looked down at the face, except there wasn’t one. Smooth metal of a robot stared back at her.

  “That’s not good,” Elsie said.

  She held the two batons in front of her, forgetting all her fencing tra
ining. The two figures charge closer to Elsie. Their metal faces shown in the low light of the alley. They charged at Elsie, raising their batons in unison.

  Elsie moved without thinking. She ducked under the two batons of the robots. She struck out with a baton as she passed. The surge of electricity sparked, connected with the robot. The robot fell to one knee. Voltage shorted parts of it out.

  The first robot jumped over Elsie to land behind her. She dodged and ducked the multiple attacks. Her baton blocked strike after strike. A quick jab of her baton managed to hit the chassis of the first robot, sparks flew from the baton, and it fell to the ground.

  The second robot struck at her with its baton. The metal rod hit her shoulder. Electricity surged through her. Elsie fell to her knees and rolled away from the robot. Her eyes lost focus. The second robot stood up from its kneeling position.

  “Get up, Elsie,” Elsie urged herself.

  Elsie pried herself off the ground to her knees. The robot stood over her, reversing its stun baton to strike it down at her head. Elsie cringed. Two small metal pins hit the chassis of the robot. The pins surged with electricity, and the robot fell backward.

  Cooley stood on the roof of the car. The stun gun was in his hands. Elsie felt nauseated. She almost died. She breathed deeply to keep the vomit down.

  “It’s okay,” Cooley said, running toward her.

  Elsie noticed fresh blood on his forehead along with an angry bruise.

  “But the gun was empty,” Elsie stammered.

  “A gun can be reloaded if you have more ammo,” Cooley said.

  Elsie nodded.

  “Cryslis,” Cooley called. “Three targets down. Robotic… No. We used stun guns and stun batons… No hope for recovery… Is Sheemo alright? Good. Affirmative.”

  Sirens rang out in the distance. “It looks like station security will be here in a moment.”

  He paused for a long moment before he continued. “Roger that. We’ll recover the bodies. See what we can learn from them.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The next morning, Des got up early, heading out to his drop point. Wearing his Ryder disguise and the military academy uniform, he strode to the military academy. Des grumbled at the early morning; however, he was getting used to it.