“Rehabilitated?” Patrick asked, rubbing his swollen forehead.
The captain made a twisting gesture with his hands around an invisible neck. “Wring the life force out of you and beat you into submissive compliance so you can plod through your remaining useful service life before being shipped to a garbage unit.”
“Oh.” Patrick nodded; Manda and David gulped. “And you want us to buy our families back, so you can get rich and keep your jobs?” Patrick summarized, in a state of disbelief.
David and Manda nodded eagerly. At least the man can understand our proposition. It’s a start, thought David. Ignoring the confrontational tone, David said concisely, “I’m the one who sent the signal via subject Arc’s—I mean Tara’s—bracelet of commitment.”
“Her name is Tara. What’s an ‘arc’?”
“Stop asking dumb questions, please.” David responded in exasperation, and then for the sake of unity, he explained, “Her hair glows like a moon. The scientists nickname all slaves. Did I correctly deduce that you’d be able to pay and negotiate?”
Manda looked directly at the captain. “QC will agree to hold off on locking David up if we can implement this plan and save the good name of Nnect?”
Doc Gus, obviously wanting to see this scenario play out said as he leaned on the wall with open, inviting hands. “Profit and gain for all involved.”
David finished, “So, I repeat to you, my strange neighbors, how much can you afford to buy your families for?”
“This should be rather interesting. The search for truth is ever expanding into new realms.” Doc Gus had his electronic writing device out, and he was frantically inscribing on it. Glancing from one reaction to the next, he seemed to be profiling all present, with the look of a giddy scientist making a new discovery.
“Pay for my wife and my friends?” Patrick rose, and his fists slammed down on the table. “What kind of diabolic creatures are you people?”
“Demons are fairy tales made up by those too weak to face reality,” David lectured. “Stay on topic.”
“Are you even human? Why would I pay for a person? Ever? You…” Patrick leaned over the table and slapped David with the back of his hand. “You snatched my wife out of my life. And she isn’t even here.” David staggered but held his ground. Patrick’s clenched fist came down again. Bam. “You let another company steal our people from you. Now you call us to fix your mess.” David could see the man’s military background coming through his aggressive body language.
“Do you have unresolved issues from your past? No need to bang your fists and throw a tantrum when you state the obvious,” David said sarcastically, a proverbial slap back in Patrick’s face.
This infuriated Patrick, who let loose with a shout, “We should kill you like you did Mark and our companions.” He pointed toward the dead men on the floor by the shuttle. Breathing heavy, he paused, at a loss for words.
To his dismay, Paul said, “Manda and David cannot pay, because our nation didn’t agree with us stealing the ship and coming here. We have no financial backing for our little, desperate venture of faith. And even if we could pay, our currency wouldn’t parallel with yours.”
Patrick, David, and Captain Jonathan were all on their feet yelling at this point. The emotions in the room rose to a new pinnacle of intensity.
“Such retorts.” Doc Gus calmly sat at the end of the table, licked his writing device, peered from his hooded robe, and recorded, still delighted by the strange circumstances.
And then it happened. An eruption. Patrick kicked aside the conference table with its floating projector screen and attempted to grab the stun rifle leaning against David’s seat—but not fast enough. Captain Jonathan whisked out his firearm, and the room went still as he waved it in Patrick’s face.
“Go for it, stocastard. I dare you, batchless one. Touch it, son. I don’t even want to kill you now. I’m taking you alive. You’ll be learned something from this mess!”
Motioning very slowly, David said, “Hold still, Captain. Bargain for something of worth.”
Paul raised his eyebrows, and David noticed a look of sadness in his eyes. He spoke. “David, I get that from your perspective, it seems like a good plan, but it’ll never work. We don’t have the ability to pay what you want. We don’t have communications open with our people now that we are here.” He patiently reiterated. “Even if we did, we don’t have the same currency as you. Also, our government, the one I work for, would never sanction such a large resource transfer with no guarantee. You see, if Tri-Coalition was going to pay every time Xchange kidnapped someone, then we’d not be able to afford our own well-being or the defense of our coastline. We’d open ourselves up to be taken over by the Corporate States.”
“We don’t negotiate with capitalistic, monopolistic, satanic terrorist demons,” Patrick gasped vehemently. He almost blurted out something more, but his father beckoned him to stop.
Paul continued, “Those visiting the missionary establishment knew the risks involved—well, the adults did. No one ever thought that the government of Xchange was so out of touch with basic human rights that an invasion would occur during our sacred holiday. No one imagined kids would be kidnapped and grandparents taken. So you see, we would not be able to pay in resources or Xchange units—what do you call your currency?”
“Freedoms,” Manda said flatly.
“We were hoping to sneak in and get them out, but our people are not even here.” He continued sadly, “Or at least negotiate and speak to the humanity in each of your hearts. Beg for their release, or trade ourselves for them.”
“So I was correct—these spineless invaders are also useless,” declared Captain Jonathan, with a finality that worried David. “I am sorry, David, but Nnect will not recoup its freedom margin without those funds you were hoping for. Two for twenty will never work as a trade. In addition, this missionary freak has a cross brand on his ex-military back. Even harder to break. Time to call the CEO and clean this mess up. Maybe he’ll contrive a solution to fix your mess.”
The captain yanked his pocket communicator out and looked down at the glassy black device. He tapped his finger and then placed his eye in front of the computer screen on the handheld; he needed to log in to his device to send the secure transmission to his office. A cavity of remorse filled David. It was over. He might as well walk to Orns and sell himself to save the CEO the trouble.
As the captain looked down, just briefly, his eyes strayed from his prisoners. As quick as a snake, Patrick’s strong right foot shot out and kicked the captain’s wrist, sending the gun flying across the room. Jonathan, wrist broken, responded by jumping across the table at Patrick, but without his right hand, he was useless. They tussled, rolling onto the ground, each seeking an upper hand. Finally, Patrick wrapped a leg around him, blocking his windpipe and forcing him into submission. The red-faced captain pounded his fist against the leg to no avail, and then he passed out and lay still on the ground.
Patrick held the gun out at the others, but Manda, David, and Doc Gus were not fighting. “Dad, we need to use the neck cuff on him. This one is set against us. It’s the only way.”
“Who gave you that?” Paul looked distressed at the mention of this device. “Why’d you bring the neck cuff? It was never to be used. Tara lobbied against its creation!”
“I hid the device in your belt pouch, Dad. Briant gave it to me. Long story, and he owed me a favor.
“How many times have I told you not to mess with that pig.”
“Give it to me.”
“You shouldn’t do this.” But the collar came out reluctantly. Some sort of moral dilemma, it seemed to David. The device was a black webbed collar with a silver metal weave interlaced throughout. It snapped in place around the captain’s neck.
“God forgive me for ever using one of these,” Paul said, crossing himself on the heart, as it clicked and beeped twice.
“No point in killing us, Patrick.” David sat down as the enemy rolled Capta
in Jonathan on his side. He was mentally defeated from the failures heaping up on him today. “I’m as good as fired.”
“What is with your obsession with being fired? A job is not a life.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night,” David answered. He wasn’t looking forward to rehab. Or Orns. David shuddered at the thought. He was too overwhelmed from the last two days to realize the gravity of his situation now that the enemy held the power. He had a blurred comprehension of all that was taking place around him, as if it were happening to someone else. “No point in killing us,” he repeated. “Doc Gus here has taken a vow to observe, counsel, and record. He isn’t allowed to interfere. Some sort of religious duty.”
“Are you a priest?” Paul asked with curiosity.
“Yes, he is. A good one too. A monk of great honor,” Manda explained.
David added, “And I’m as good as sold to another company.”
“We both are,” Manda said as they all turned to her.
“Very interesting and true.” Doc Gus was walking about the room. He held up his tablet in front of David and filmed a short recording. “It seems posterity might still learn a bit about life from this whole incident. This story will fit well with my compiled theories on fear and human truth.” Turning to Paul, he said, “What sort of neck band is that, and why are you feeling guilty about putting it on him? And why does your son seem so much more aggressive and uncontrollable than you, Paul? For a peaceful missionary, he sure knows how to fight.”
Satisfied for the moment, Patrick sat down and ate one of the rolls. “I did a stint with the defense army before deciding to try to help others and change the world.”
Paul remarked, “You decided?”
“OK. Well, Tara convinced me to change my ways. She was wrong about peace and war. When you took Tara, I realized that some evils need to be fought with force and not peace.”
Paul knelt beside the sleeping captain, checking the device and vital signs. “The device is a neck cuff. It was a secret government project called ATAK. My office, actually—I am a governor of a city—was responsible for the research. In my youth, we developed weapons that could subdue humans. Riot control, capturing prisoners, and other possible military applications. This nasty device will send a vibrating pulse to the human heart, warning its victim to comply with its captor. If the prisoner refuses to comply with the person who programmed the device, then the pulse signals from the cuff can stun the prisoner. There is also a manual unlocking pin on the neck cuff. We kept it manual so that it wouldn’t go off by accident. Horrible vibrating pain will paralyze a captured person if he touches the control device. It essentially turns a human into an animal.”
“Dad, stop getting all moral about the cuff. This one needs it. Besides, you let it go through the board and stamped it with a humanitarian clause.”
“Humanitarian clause? What is that?” David and the Doc asked simultaneously.
“It is a stamp given by a conglomeration of humanitarian, religious, and government council members that review each invented device and approve its use in society.”
“And what did they decide?” Patrick said.
“Well, the council decided, against my vote, that it was moral to use force at times to hold down humans that might hurt themselves or others. At least I had a clarification clause issued—some devices must only be used temporarily. This was one of the temporary weapons. Because we have the ability to contain out-of-line citizens, there is no need to ever kill them or harm them. So this device has a thirty-six-hour window from when it is activated before it self-destructs. And then it will cease to function forever. Your captain will wake up to three days of servitude.”
“Most interesting indeed,” the monk said. “This will be interesting to watch. We should discuss theory. I would find it mutually beneficial to talk about human rights and your ideas about the conscience and other items I am researching.”
David had never heard Doc Gus speak like this. “Doc, you are not a Lave Labs scientist. Why the interest?”
Doc Gus ignored David and continued, “I’ve heard rumors and read some of the reports from the missionary torture blogs, but it is most intriguing to hear firsthand what you people believe. About being human.”
“Doc Gus, how can you ask such a thing at a time like this?” Manda insisted.
David chimed in, “We have a captured officer who just attempted to send a distress signal to QC and possibly the Nnect CEO’s office. If the message went through, we have about ten minutes before we are swarmed by QC officers. Permanent rehabilitation. They don’t negotiate with terrorists either.”
Just then, the QC captain groaned and woke up. He stumbled to his feet, shaky and in pain, his right arm dangling limply. Intuitively, he found the invasive collar on his neck and attempted to pull it off. “What the bastard stock is this?” Patrick waved a hand with the collar control device and pressed a button. A vibration was sent through the band. The captain roared in pain and fell to his knees.
“My, my, my.” Patrick made the collar vibrate again. “The tides have turned.”
Paul held both hands up, cautioning the enraged, dazed captain. “Sir, don’t attack or do anything stupid.”
Patrick stepped in front of his dad, taunting the captain. “If you hinder us in any way, I can debilitate you with a simple button. Want to see?” He stepped even closer, noses almost touching. “If you attempt to grapple it from me or you touch the command device, you’ll be rendered insensible by the collar. You are officially a dog on a leash.” He laughed bitterly. “How does it feel?” Captain Jonathan struggled with the device, yanking at it and looking in the glass walls.
“Stop gloating. It won’t bring Tara back,” Paul reprimanded his son. “I know it’s hard, but keep your humanity about you. Keep your vows to your God. The wicked will receive their just reward. For now, we strive with all our might to do what is right. One day and even one moment at a time. Remember, we only ask for the courage to do what we can and the strength to accept with serenity the rest. And the wisdom to understand the difference.” Patrick seemed to take the advice seriously and nodded reluctantly, looking genuinely sorrowful for his actions and comments. A moment of silence followed.
“Captain, I believe they’re telling the truth. If you resist, they may kill you.” David bent over and picked up the captain’s communicator. “Will you call off the QC raid so that we can try to fix this mess? It would save all of us. If they find you with that collar, you’ll be fired for incompetence.”
“Employee David, quality control comes with risks. I’ll do anything to protect our employees, our utopia, and Mother Nnect. You don’t understand the depths of my loyalty or the momentousness of my personal pledges. Termination, being fired, being humiliated before compromising Xchange.”
“And so you choose slavery before calling off the attack.” A vibration shot through the device and hammered the captain to his knees. Pain twisted from his heart and up his veins and contorted his usual calm composure.
But the captain smiled through it, blood oozing from between his teeth. “Kill me if you must. Comfort was never my path of choice.”
“Please, sir.” As David held out the communicator device, he saw the home screen, previously unlocked by the captain. It showed a picture of a young boy and an older man. The man looked odd; he looked familiar. David looked closer. Yes, it was! The man in the picture was the crazy old man from the Gravetless. The one who’d given him the CEO armband. But who was that boy?
Understanding filled David. He looked in surprise at the captain and then again at the picture. The man and the boy were holding hands in a large field with a lake behind them, arms held high in the air as if they were going to try to fly over the lake. They looked happy; they looked free. David had never seen a lake like this. But that boy. That boy looked familiar. David stared closer, and then he saw it: the birthmark. It was the same birthmark that Captain Jonathan had on his neck. The two were relate
d. The old man’s T-shirt read best grandpa ever. David knew about grandpas from Storyworld.
Things clicked together in his mind. The old man from the Gravetless must be related to CEO Saul, because the armband was so much like the CEO’s. Armbands of power were blood sensitive. Furthermore, based on this picture, it seemed Captain Jonathan was the grandson of the old man. It all connected. No wonder the captain had been personally sent to retrieve his crazy grandfather. Captain Jonathan had been sold to QC by his dad. David remembered the story that CEO Saul had told when David had been given his new assignment. Wow. It was staggering to David how it all connected.
“Well, you guys need to decide on a plan of action before QC arrives.” Doc Gus’s matter-of-fact voice brought David back to reality. Captain Jonathan saw the look of recognition on David’s face.
David had an idea. His grasp of the whole situation transformed in his mind. He didn’t want Grandpa Greg, Steven Slayer, and Crystal Ice to win this battle. “I have nothing more to lose, time to take more risks.” He said to the group. They looked at him for an explanation. “Maybe many risks would equal a right.” Now they looked at him like he was crazy. He was already getting sent to rehab or worse for his failures. Why not do something crazy and bring the traitors down with him? Why not try to help these people and in the process maybe save himself? After all, he did like Tara and Domin a lot better than he liked Greg, Crystal, and Steven. “I’ll help,” David declared, decided, to Paul. “I propose we break into Orns and get your wife out.” He looked to Patrick.
Manda gasped. Breaking into a company was unheard of.
“Why would you help us, and how do you know my daughter-in-law and her companions are there?” Paul questioned David.
“I’ve lost my many hard-earned freedoms. All my savings and my ability to buy myself when I go to rehab for my failures, as I deserve,” David pointed out. “So trust me. Trust me if I say I’m willing to do something crazy to spite some people even if it helps you.”
A Tale Of Doings Page 48