by K. L. Lewis
“Amy, this is DeMarcus,” Shen answered. “He’ll be staying with us. As you’re big brother.”
“Big brother?” Amy yelled. “Why can’t I be a big sister?”
“Maybe because we’re older than you?” Yue sniped.
“Shut up, Yue!” Amy glared at DeMarcus, spooking him with a growl before running into the halls and up the stairs, followed by a loud door slam. Yikes.
“Oh dear,” said Jiao.
DeMarcus scratched his head. “What’d I do?”
“Nothing,” Yue answered. “She’s just a little brat.”
“Yue,” Shen scolded.
“What? She is!”
Shen shook his head. “What a fine mother you’ll be.”
Yue shrugged and mocked his words behind his back as he went into the fridge, pulling out some bread, lettuce, and turkey. “So, ya hungry, DeMarcus?” Shen asked. “Come on and make yourself home. It’s as much yours as it is ours!”
DeMarcus stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten in a while, and was eager for a bite. He took a sandwich, and looked up the stairs into Amy’s room. “Is she gonna be alright?”
“I’ll check on her,” said Jiao, walking upstairs. “She can be a little spoiled.”
“A little?” Yue sassed.
A serene voice spoke from the dining room. “She’s just temperamental.”
DeMarcus looked in the room at a girl with the same face as Yue, but was older, with long hair like Jiao’s, and a long, fluffy black and white tail. Her eyes were glued on her tablet, trading a glance with DeMarcus as he approached her. “Yes?” she asked, startling DeMarcus.
“Oh, nothing,” DeMarcus responded. “Just…wanted to know what you were writing.”
The girl smiled. “It’s my calculus homework.”
“Oh, okay.” DeMarcus took another bite of his sandwich, getting closer as the girl went back to writing. “So what’s your name?”
“Jun,” she answered, still writing.
Unsure what else to say, DeMarcus stimulated a conversation. “You find calculus hard?”
She hardly looked at him. “Not really.”
DeMarcus winced a bit, feeling he was irritating her, and slowly retreated into the hallway. “Okay, well…I’ll talk to you later?”
She smiled. “That’s fine.”
She didn’t look irritated, but DeMarcus couldn’t tell. He jumped a bit when he heard someone behind him. “She’s like that,” said Yue, leaning on the wall.
“Hope I didn’t make her mad,” DeMarcus worried.
“Of course not. She’s the nicest out of us, though you still don’t want to test her.”
The doorbell rang. “Who’s that?” Shen asked.
“I’ll get it,” said Jun, heading for the door. She dialed on the keypad and checked on the monitor to the outside: James, Tyrone, and a little girl with cream skin, brown fur, and black hair. Jun opened the door and welcomed them. “It’s the Iyrons!”
Tyrone came in and joined Yue and DeMarcus. “DeMarcus! How ya been, man?”
“You two already know each other?” Jun asked.
“Yeah, I met him at the hospital with Yue,” said Tyrone.
James stepped in. “So, where’s Shen and Jiao?”
Shen leaned out from the kitchen. “Over here.” he waved. “Jiao’s dealing with Amy right now. I’ve looked over possible militant groups responsible for that attack a few days ago but had no luck. It’s terrifying to see them just attack random populations like that.”
“Yeah, I wanted to discuss that with you.” James said, walking with Shen walked into an office near the front door. “There’s rumors of Themiskyra and Serali having operatives in city ruins. Not too sure about them being around. Rooting out these militants gets more difficult every day.”
Shen shrugged. “I wouldn’t be shocked about Serali. Themiskyra, though, that’s surprising. Wonder what they want?”
“I figured I’d ask you,” James said as door closed, their voices muffled by the walls.
The little parahuman girl walked up to Yue. “Where’s Amy?” she asked before looking at DeMarcus. “And who’s he?”
“Bianca, didn’t we tell you? This is DeMarcus,” said Tyrone.
“And Amy’s moping in her room if you wanna see her,” said Yue, jerking a thumb upstairs.
Bianca ran up to Amy’s room while Jun returned to her homework, leaving the other three children alone. Yue lead Tyrone and DeMarcus into the living room, where she and Tyrone sat on the brown and red couch as the TV flashed on. Not wishing to ruin such lavish looking furniture, DeMarcus sat on the floor, earning puzzled looks from Yue and Tyrone. “So,” Yue began, “what did your grandpa say about the Sinic Republics?”
“Didn’t your family use to live there?” Tyrone asked.
“I only went for visits, and didn’t see much. And when hell broke loose there years ago, we’ve been visiting even less.”
“Well, he says it’s nice,” said Tyrone. “Though he didn’t get to bring souvenirs after finishing rec-work there.”
“Must’ve took him for-ev-er to get that done,” said Yue.
“Well, it does take years restoring parts of the ruins,” said DeMarcus. “My mom used to help out with things like logistics and defense…well, before…never mind.” He couldn’t bear remembering the last time he saw her. Every time he did, his eyes narrowed and his hands balled into a fist, remembering what brought him here in the first place.
He saw Yue’s worrying gaze, and she shifted the conversation. “Um…well, I’d definitely hate to live in those ruins. Might be cool to explore tho.”
“With those militants around? No thanks,” said DeMarcus. “I’d rather be here.”
“How’re you liking it here so far?” Tyrone asked.
DeMarcus looked around the room. A nice cozy couch, large living room, and cleaning drones hovering around the place. “It seems nice.”
“It seems nice?” Yue repeated. “You seem afraid to touch anything but the floor.”
“I just got here. I never lived like this. Never had a sister either.”
“How’d your family live?”
DeMarcus rocked back and forth. “At first I stayed in Houston while my mom did rec-work. Attacks were a bit more frequent down there. Other than that, we packed light and stayed in the Iuvian Terraports, and since my mom didn’t like anything too fragile or expensive, we really only used what we needed.”
“You talk a lot about your mother. How was she?” Yue asked.
DeMarcus tucked his legs to his chest and buried his face in his knees. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
Yue head sunk to her shoulders. “I’m…guessing your other parent wasn’t around much?”
“My dad’s been busy in the Iuvian colonies since I was four. He sent video messages, but that was it.”
“Okay…” Yue’s pitch rose as if she were sorry for bringing all this up, and she shifted to Tyrone. “So, I heard Rafeal’s dad bought him some new threads. You know he’s gonna be flashing that all around school.”
“Who’s Rafeal?” DeMarcus asked.
“A jackass who’s full of himself. I’d say avoid him, but unfortunately he likes attention.”
“Uh-huh,” DeMarcus pictured Rafeal to be one of those bullies picking on other kids he saw on Terranet shows. His tail tapped the floor in wonder of what would happen if they clashed, and his mother’s advice came to mind: if you can’t avoid it, defend yourself and never fight fair. The more he thought of her, the more he missed her. But there was no telling what his new family expected of him in that same situation. “I’ll just hope for the best then.”
“Good luck,” said Tyrone. “Hopefully you won’t need it with me. He knows to back the hell off, unless he wants the Iyrons on his ass.”
“Please, just knock him down and hope his cronies don’t jump in,” said Yue, making DeMarcus chuckle.
The three continued the day watching shows on the Terranet, skipping the commercials from
Pewter Tech and Coalesce Industries that came on before bringing up the Magna-rink at the mall. DeMarcus got excited upon hearing that, wanting to ask them what Magnaskating was like until a travel commercial of the British Isles came on.
“Man would I love to travel out of the country and see the world,” said Yue.
“The Sinic Republics aren’t enough, huh?” Tyrone joked.
“No offense, but going to the Republics just to visit our grandpa’s grave isn’t exactly my idea of ‘traveling.’”
Tyrone shrugged. “It’s out of the country.”
“And into another one I’ve already been too. How about someplace new?”
Tyrone looked at DeMarcus. “What about you? I bet with your dad in the Iuvia, you guys have traveled all around or even to space.”
“I’ve been a NAFer my whole life,” DeMarcus responded. “Everything my mom dealt with was here. The Sinic Republics don’t seem so bad though.”
“Trust me, it’ll get to you after a while,” said Yue.
The night was long, but DeMarcus enjoyed his time with his new friends and family. Eventually the three grew tired, and DeMarcus dozed off to sleep while Yue and Tyrone slumped on the cushions and armrest. “Tyrone!” James called, sprouting the three awake.
Tyrone lifted off the couch and followed his dad and sister outside. “I’ll catch you guys at school tomorrow,” he said to the woozy Yue and DeMarcus.
DeMarcus slumped back to sleep while Yue rose from the couch. A few minutes passed and DeMarcus felt someone lift him up and carry him upstairs. His head wobbled as he peeked at their face, catching a blurry view of a fawn-faced girl smiling at his wobbling head. Yue? Jun? He couldn’t tell who as his head rested on their shoulder, and he found himself sink in the air on a soft, warm cloud that enveloped him before a kiss landed on his forehead.
And the last thing he heard as he fell into a deep sleep was, “Good night, little brother.”
CHAPTER 10 – REPORT
The roads cratered and fractured, buildings crumbling to the ground as crews and bulldozers cleared them away—that was the Eastern City District in a nutshell, years of rec-work ruined in moments from the recent attack. Soldiers and police were added to the scene, standing guard by at the corners and rooftops with their drones and Shephounds at the heel. Next to the Tavilla Terraport, it was one of the most heavily militarized parts of the city, and one of the most avoided for fear of militants popping up, all of it just a few blocks away from the Rula Megaplaza at the edge of Downtown.
The district was supposed to be a new civil center for people to live, with rec-work crews clearing the land for future stores and restaurants. Only two buildings stood fully intact within the district: the Coalesce Emergency Clinic and a lone mini mart just a block away, its back facing away from the mountains of collapsed buildings and hills of rubble that made most of the city’s North and Eastern Ruins at the district’s edge.
All the better as far as Fara Torres was concerned. With everyone distracted, she and Lian, a pale, brown-haired parahuman as thin as a cornstalk treaded through the waning crowds in dark red and blue collared jackets. With wigs and face masks hiding them from vigilant eyes, they walked easy among the people without fear of being stopped, crossing a block where an NAF and an Iuvian soldier stood guard with a Shephound drone.
But the eyes of the soldiers drew caution from Fara as the Iuvian soldier stood out and warned them. “Careful. The militants responsible are still around.”
“I’ve heard,” Fara said. “It’s a shame how many people got caught in this mess.”
“Best we can do is hope we catch those responsible,” said the NAF soldier. “Either that or call the Global Union for support, but I’m not expecting that anytime soon.”
They shared a chuckle, and Fara and Lian continued to the next block. “Well, we won’t hold you up,” said Lian.
Those soldiers were none the wiser as Fara and Lian entered the mini mart, trading glances at a blonde human woman stocking the aisles near the window, her eyes as cold as theirs. Approaching the parahuman cashier, they flashed their OmniMorphs on their wrists, each showing five yellow bars joining at the center into the shape of the letter “A.” The cashier scanned their OmniMorphs, identifying them as A-1 and A-2.
The blonde woman near the window made a glance outside before giving Fara and the cashier a nod. “All clear,” she said.
The cashier pressed a bell-shaped button beside the register, and the floor in front of the counter sank underground in a slope as Fara and Lian went down and removed their disguises in their descent. The passage was littered with scattered pebbles and wires snaking through the craggy corridors—an old run-down headquarters taken long ago from those wacky Fronties that hardly anyone in the city knew of. Dozens of militants and scientists scrambled in the halls ahead, each one standing in salute as Fara and Lian passed by and separated at the intersection. Fara paused and huffed a chuckle as a few of her militants escorted a special captive—one of their pursuers, a human woman cuffed up and seething with rage at the engineers and scientists in another room studying her suit.
The captive wasn’t from the HDF, but she was just as much a danger. Well, not anymore, and Fara breathed easy knowing that the secret of their hideout died with their captive.
But just when she thought all was well, her eyes jumped at another pursuer, this one uncuffed as she followed behind the escorts and ordered them to take the captive to a cell. Then the pursuer took off her helmet, revealing herself as a pale human with short, umber-brown hair before turning and saluting Fara. “Sub-Lieutenant Iya Kalir from the Africa-Bloc, ma’am,” she said.
Fara squinted. “Africa? That’s a hell of a journey just for a transfer to my operating group.”
Iya chuckled. “Well, we caught wind of some infiltrators heading across the Atlantic and put in some of our own to keep an eye out. Sorry if we warned you too late.”
Fara passed her on her way through the hall as Iya followed along. “It couldn’t be helped,” Fara said. “We’re lucky most of us made it out before they hit.”
“So, what’s the deal with this ‘research’ I’m hearing about?” Iya asked. “It’s even caught Monuma’s attention.”
“Something High Command thinks will help deal with the HDF. Thankfully, the Fronties haven’t caught on, but there’s no telling for how long with the other groups gunning after us. Speaking of which…”
Fara stopped at the laboratory doors where a group of scientists jotted notes in their tablets, examining the vials and petri dishes of a rust-red fluid under microscopes and simulations. The militants guarding the entrance saluted Fara as she and Iya walked in and greeted the round-eared parahuman woman. “Afternoon, Dr. Koss. How’s the research?”
“Afternoon, Captain,” Koss addressed. “We lost a few notes, but not a huge loss. Our findings suggest that this stuff acts more like a weapon than an enhancement strain. Not sure how we’re actually supposed to use it.”
“Captain,” interrupted a voice from the door. Fara turned to her second-in-command, a blonde, sturdy parahuman named Lucas, whose bushy white tail and sharp ears stood straight as he saluted Fara. “Urgent contact from High Command in the Comm Room.”
“On my way.” Fara and Iya followed him through the halls and into to the Comm Room, where the black, blue, and blood-red flags with their A-shaped insignia draped over the green and white HDF symbols on the walls.
Lucas and Iya stood erect at the entrance doors while Fara stood on a large silver pedestal at the center of the room. An arch rose to her neck, projecting five ghost-white heads in front of her. Banners rotated around their necks, with their codenames in order: Zinc, Iridium, Lithium, and Copper, with the leader, a woman codenamed Cobalt, at the center.
Fara saluted as Cobalt’s head lit up and spoke with a calm, distorted voice. “Good afternoon, Captain Torres. Glad to see most of your operating group survived that skirmish.”
“About that,” Fara began, “We ha
d some equipment problems along the way. Our cloaks gave out after a few minutes—would have made our escape easier if they lasted longer. And we used so much ammo we only have enough material to make non-lethal STN rounds for now.”
Zinc’s head lit as a woman’s soft voice spoke. “It’s best you limit yourselves to STN rounds, given your location. We don’t want any civilian casualties. What about the research?”
“We still have the notes, but we lost some good men and women in the process,” Fara responded.
“Yes, it’s unfortunate,” spoke a man’s deep voice from Copper. “Let’s hope their sacrifice was worth it. The good news is that new recruits and reinforcements from training are arriving to your location as we speak. However, we have another urgent matter for you to deal with.”
The heads spread apart as a map of the NAF popped up with red X marks dotting areas of the Great Lake Region. “The aftermath of that skirmish compromised several of our facilities in the NAF, leaving us to reorganize Northern Zone of the NA-Bloc,” spoke a woman’s voice from Lithium. “That currently leaves you the only leading commander of the Unit 48 region. But this incident also placed the HDF in a bind.”
The map highlighted the coordinates, Latitude 41, Longitude -87, and popped up an image of a pale, brown haired human in a business suit. “While the HDF struggle to rebuild, we want to avoid giving them any opportunities. We received intel that a front organization of theirs is backing this man, Representative Jack Allers, who has been known to associate and push for policies that benefit the HDF.”
“Several assault teams that survived the assault have been deployed at the Illina capital, Chicago, to scout around,” said Cobalt. “There’s word of him holding an announcement sometime this month there, and with you nearby we’d like you to take command to send a ‘message’ to the Representative.”
A sharp smile stretched on Fara’s face. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
“We’ll do what we can to limit security there,” spoke the male voice from Iridium. “But no matter what, the authorities will be in search of you afterwards. Commence the op, then go into hiding. We’ll ensure your return. Upon completion of the op, you will standby for relocation.”