Floor 21- Dark Angel

by Jason Luthor

  Cynthia shrugs. “How can you?”

  “I’m going to go to the source of the trouble.”

  Jackie’s Recording 11

  John’s voice bursts into my ear as I’m rocketing toward Central Primary. “Kid, Yousef’s Vertwing is just touching down. You going in swinging?”

  “Yeah. He lied to me.”

  “Just watch yourself. There’s a lot of innocents, government worker types. They don’t have anything to do with that business.”

  I nod, my helmet zooming in on the sight of Yousef’s transport touching down on the single landing platform that was built onto Central Primary’s rooftop. “Civilians first. Always.”

  “Go get ‘em, champ.”

  The fire from my thrusters explode as I see Yousef getting out with two guards on either side. I slam onto the platform, hitting the ground running and grabbing the attention of the soldiers flanking him. The first rushes at me, but I duck under his arms and lift my fist up with the type of uppercut that sends him flying backward. The second soldier raises his gun and starts firing, but my thrusters flare and I slide by the stream of gunfire. I rush right up to him, grabbing him by the arm and turning him over my shoulder so that he goes slamming into the pavement.

  Then it’s me and Yousef.

  His eyes go wide when he sees me, but my fist’s swinging at him the second he tries to say something. The second my fist’s flying at him, I see that golden glow coming off of his back, and his head slides just enough that my fist misses and punches a hole through the side of the Vertwing. My other hand is immediately swinging for his stomach, but he twists, rolling to the ground and turning into a sweeping kick aimed for my legs. I remember that from our sparring match at Fort Silence, and I won’t fall for the same trick twice. Instead, I jump skyward, my body twisting toward him and my jetpack roaring to life. My acceleration multiplies in a second, and I see him grit his teeth as he turns aside, my fist crashing into the floor where he was just a second before. The shockwave ripples across the rooftop, and I see him go tumbling head over heels along the floor, my legs propelling me toward him in an instant. My fists cross toward his jaw and swing at his stomach, but even if he looks stressed, he manages to deflect everything I throw at him before he finally catches me by the arm and screams, “Are you trying to kill me!?”

  “Maybe!” I shout as I throw my head into his, my helmet cracking open his nose and sending him tumbling black. I see blood dripping along the ground as he catches his footing, that golden light circling around the pupil of his left eye. “That was for Mike.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?!”

  “You, ordering your men to take medical supplies from people living in Central!”

  He tosses his hand to the side and sends more blood splattering along the ground. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Like hell you don’t,” I say as I start marching toward him. He just stands there, his arms at his side as I’m clenching my fists. “I’m not going to hold back just because you don’t want to fight.”

  “Then you’ll be punching an innocent man, because I didn’t order anyone to take medical supplies. At least tell me what we’re fighting about before we do this.”

  I’m standing inches from him and a half foot taller in my armor, my eyes burning in the air as I glare at him. “Your men raided the medical depot at the Green Zone, harassed people, and broke Mike’s face apart because they didn’t know the meaning of excessive force. You’re going to stand here and say you had nothing to do with that?” I bring my fist down at him, and he dips underneath me, my body flying past him before I feel him leaping at my back. His arms are around my waist and, unbelievably, lifting me. He turns me so that we’re falling to the ground, a second from slamming into the concrete, but then my thrusters fire off in just a half second burst. It’s all I need. He screams as the fire douses him, though that Pocket Space field of his absorbs a lot of the heat. He’s still on fire though, rolling along the ground to put out the flames while I flip onto my feet and turn back to face him. The second I do, he’s already back on his legs, his palm wide open and pointed toward me. Inside his palm, there’s this glowing charge, like energy collecting between his fingertips. His face is tensed up, sweat dripping down his cheeks and blood streaking along his jaw as he stares at me with this . . . rage. He screams, and I get this weird, sinking feeling in my stomach when the golden light in his fingers reaches its peak. Then, at the last second, he points his palm to the side of the building, just in time for a burst of golden light to explode from his hand. My eyes follow the blast as it literally scorches its way past the landing platform and blows the side of Central’s roof off, stone and wood bursting into the air and raining onto the ground below.

  For a second, I stare at the destroyed edge of the roof, actually staring into a hole that now looks down into a room beneath us, before looking back at him. He’s standing there, breathing hard, with his golden arm still pointed at me and his free hand gripped around it near the elbow. I just watch him panting, trying to keep control of him, before I finally say, “You never told me you could do that.”

  “Why would I need to, Jackie? Since when do I have to use this against people? And since when would I feel compelled to use it against you?”

  I suck in a breath as I stare at him from across the rooftop. “What happened at the medical depot, Yousef?”

  His arms drop to his sides. “I don’t know. Jackie, I cannot personally oversee the operations of tens of thousands of soldiers. Do you understand that? There is a chain of command and most things that happen, I never hear about them.” His breathing finally settles down as he wipes at his face. “Tell me, exactly, what my soldiers told you.”

  My eyes go past him for a second, into the city, while I think back on what they said. “They said they needed medical supplies. That it had been authorized . . .” I shake my head. “That it had been authorized by the War Council.”

  “The War Council. So, not by me?”

  “No, but . . .”

  “Not, by me. Am I right?”

  My face twists uncomfortably as I frown. “You’re right.”

  “Then let’s please talk to the War Council about this. Do you remember the last time you came for me? At Fort Silence? When I said I’d be arriving here and we could talk more about what’s happening in Central.”

  “Yes.”

  “I literally just touched down, Jackie. You obviously saw that! You knocked my two soldiers out cold.”

  I look behind me, at the two unconscious bodies. “They’ll . . . be alright. Hurt, but alright.”

  “Which is fine. But Jackie, I did not give permission for anyone to take medical supplies from civilians. I don’t even have that authority right now, I put operations under the command of the president and his War Council. But I get it. I understand that everyone here thinks I’m the boogeyman. Someone goes missing, Supreme General Yousef Suliman ordered it from on high. Something goes wrong with the military, obviously Yousef must be hatching his dastardly, maniacal plan to steal medical supplies from innocent civilians despite knowing there is a seven-foot, armor wearing superwoman in the area who can summon weapons from thin air and lift entire military transports over her head. Is that the ingenious scheme I dreamed up?”

  I rub at my metal encased forehead as I pace back and forth. “I don’t know. I don’t know! Okay? But you have to at least see all the trouble keeping soldiers in the city is creating. At least tell me you get that?”

  “I get it.” He throws his arms up in the air. “I get it! I’m starting to see that managing a city is more complicated than just dealing with a military chain of command. I wanted . . .” He’s pacing now too, walking back and forth before he looks back at me. “The War Council and Advisory Council were supposed to balance the other out, with President Branagh acting as the moderating force for good between them.”

  “Well, that’s not what’s happening.”

  “Then let’
s figure it out. Please.”

  I shake my head. “You figure it out, Yousef. You’re scheduled to meet with President Branagh tomorrow. That’s who you need to be talking to. Not me.”

  “That’s it then? You’re just going to leave?”

  I’m already at the edge of the roof, fire exploding from my back as I shout back at him. “I need time to think.”

  Personal Recording of Devleena Kumar 03

  Me and the team arrive at the med depot about a half hour after we’d heard reports that a riot almost started in the area. I start thinking it was a mistake to show up the second we’re on the scene, because a young woman starts barking our way the minute she sees us. “Why the hell are you back to harass us?” she screams. “Do you enjoy torturing us like this?”

  “Hold up, ma’am,” I tell her as I hit the release switch on my helmet. I pull it off so she can see me eye to eye. Well, almost. I’m looking down at her from almost five feet above her while riding around in my armor. I know it must look like I have a shrunken head while seated in my Zero-One. “I don’t know what happened earlier. We don’t work with the soldiers you’ve got around here. We’re a . . .” I try to find the right words. “Calls us a kind of special force.”

  “It still doesn’t change the fact that you work with the same people who bloodied my poor Mike,” she shouts, pointing behind her. There’s a guy whose face looks like it got hammered and a little girl holding some kind of cold pack to his jaw.

  “Our people did that?”

  “You’re going to pretend like you didn’t know?”

  “We really didn’t. We came by because we’re supposed to make sure things are running smoothly between our troops and people living in Central. Well, also because we heard the Dark Angel was here.”

  “What?”

  I shake my head. “I’m really sorry. If I’d known this had turned into such a big deal, that people got hurt, we would have rushed it more. I just thought the Angel would probably keep a handle on it until we got here. We’re all big fans of hers.”

  “You? Why would you, of all people, be fans of hers?”

  The question almost feels like nonsense. “Because . . . she saves lives. Same reason all of us serve in the military. We ride around in these suits, but the things we’ve heard about the Angel . . .” I trail off. “Sorry, I know how stupid that sounds when you obviously just had an incident here.”

  “No. No, it’s fine,” she tells us as she crosses her arms. “But you could at least try to be more like her instead of making our lives miserable.”

  “Look, I don’t know what happened. All I know is that . . .” I point past her to the guy recovering in the chair. “If that happened because of a soldier, then that person shouldn’t be deployed out here. I can take a report and follow up to see what we can do about it.”

  “You say you care now, after thirty of your soldiers just got done trying to steal our medical supplies.”

  “Steal medical supplies? I don’t believe that.”

  “Then how do you think my boyfriend ended up with his face looking like it’s been hit by a transport?”

  I look back at the guy again, and I can’t stop the twisting frown that works across my face. “Please stand back,” I tell her. She hesitates for a second before pulling away, and then the front of my breastplate detaches, folding forward and opening up the chest cavity. The suits are too big to control like smaller suits of armor, so our whole body’s contained in just the chest area, with a neural link that gives us control over the suit. I pull out the neural plug that’s jacked into the base of my skull and step forward, jumping forward and onto the pavement so that I’m standing eye to eye with her. She looks a lot less intimidated once we’re face to face, without me riding around in a ten-foot-tall suit of walking death.

  I reach out my hand to her. “Sergeant Devleena Kumar,” I tell her as we lock hands. “Most people call me Kali.”

  “Cynthia Silvera,” she tells me. “We might only be alive because of the Angel. She’s always there when we need her. Not a half hour late.”

  I bow my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really know what was happening here. All we heard on our comms was that she’d arrived and was getting into it with some of our boys and girls.”

  “And what would you have done if she was? Would you have shot at her?”

  I freeze as I’m staring at this woman. It’s hard to find what I should say to that. “If we had the order to. If she was a threat.”

  “It’s easy to say that you respect her. The reason why everyone likes her is because she’ll do anything to actually protect people, not hurt them. You could learn a thing or two.”

  “I’m . . . We have duties we need done.”

  “So badly you were okay having soldiers take all of our supplies?”

  My eyes go past her and into the tent. After a second, I look back at her and just shake my head. “No. If we’d gotten here and found out what was going on . . . I would have gotten someone on the line to get things cleared up. Nobody should have come through here trying to take supplies from you without clearing it with you ahead of time.” I raise my hands before she can protest. “Not so that they could come in and take everything, but just so that some kind of arrangement could be worked out. I know you’re not completely against the idea of our troops being able to take care of themselves out in the Deadlands, right?”

  She frowns but nods her head at the same time. “I know what you’re saying. Of course I wouldn’t say anything against that. I’m a nurse. I want everyone taken care of. It’s just how this all happened, how they behaved. They just came out of nowhere . . . Pushed me to the ground, grabbed my sister Mandy . . . and you see what happened to Mike.”

  “On behalf of Fort Silence, I give you my deepest apologies,” I tell her with another bow of my head. “Things have been confusing, with orders coming from the fort and your local War Council. The chain of command isn’t clear right now. I’m not going to say for sure what happened, but I believe it must have been some sort of mix up.” I shake my head even as I’m saying it. “Doesn’t matter. It was a screw up on our part, and it shouldn’t have happened. I know you don’t buy this right now, but I am committed to keeping the people of this city safe. I don’t have the authority to look completely into this incident. There’s a special investigations department for that. But, me and the boys and girls behind me are pretty popular with the troops. We’ll make sure word gets out that these things shouldn’t be happening.”

  She shakes her head and gives me a nod after she finally accepts what I’m saying. “Thank you, Sergeant Kumar. At least it looks like a few of you from Fort Silence aren’t all terrible.”

  Intercepted Broadcast from the Tank 02

  I must remind everyone of all the efforts we, the people of the Deadlands, the Sha’b, have made to create the peace we want. We all know the sacrifices Ned Lancaster made, trying to bring about a peace with Central. We also know why that peace could never exist. Because they wanted us gone. They didn’t want peace with us. They wanted us dead. We know, by the actions of men like Nikola Dravic, who would only accept peace on his own terms. Peace, at the end of a gun. We know through their alliance with Fort Silence and Yousef Suliman, a man who will only be satisfied when we are all dead.

  What good is peace if means abandoning a way of life? What good is security with no freedoms? Are we any better than animals, allowed to roam within our cages but threatened with violence the minute we break free from our restraints? Peace cannot come under these terms. Remember Ned Lancaster, who died fighting for a better peace, sacrificing for a better peace. He chose to ally himself, in the end, with Central. Chose to give his lands to Central.

  Do we hate him for that? Do we despise him? Are we bitter toward him? No. Don’t we now make our homes on the land his son, Ned Whitney Lancaster, fought for and bled for? Don’t we now call the streets he secured the same streets where our people can live free? Now I ask you, has Ned Whitney Lancaster
allied himself with Central, as his father did? No. Because we know that as long as Central is under the influence of the general, there will never be a peace that is permanent. Because we know that Supreme General Yousef Suliman wants us wiped from existence.

  For General Suliman, there can only be one vision for humanity’s future. His vision. A vision of pure humanity. But do not be deceived into thinking that for him, purity means only purity of blood. For him, it means a purity of culture. A purity of culture. One culture, one way of doing things, one way of existing, as outlined by him. He may tolerate your differences while he needs you, but in the end, you will be an obstacle to him. When that time comes, he will have you removed, by any means necessary.

  Personal Recording of the President, Gabriel Branagh 19

  I sigh as I take a look around the small table, into the faces of Colonel Martin, Representative Tan, Captain Jones, and Sergeant Patel. Tommy’s the first to speak up, of course. “Thanks for letting Patel come along. Nobody knows our troops like he does.”

  “It’s no problem, Tommy,” I say with a nod to Patel. “Glad to have you onboard.”

  “I’m ready to help in whatever way possible.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Tommy speaks up again. “So, what’re we going to do about this?”

  “Good question.” I glance around the room. “I think that’s why we’re here. To figure that out.”

  Tan leans into the table, gesturing with his hand. “I can tell you the feeling among residents in the city. Everyone is scared that isn’t well off. If you’re not a council member, a high up military officer, or one of the few people that’s wealthy in the city, then you don’t want to go out onto the streets. I think the situation that happened yesterday at the medical depot justifies those fears.”

  “It does. Unfortunately, we’ve invited the devil onto the dance floor. It’s going to be a lot harder to get rid of Yousef now that he’s had a few weeks to get his claws into the city.”