by J. N. Chaney
“He’s recruiting?” Ricky asked, putting the puzzle pieces together.
“Looks like it,” I said.
“Times being what they are, we are accepting applicants of all ages,” Captain Harold said, looking to a group of chairs where a young boy no older than fourteen sat, as well as another table, where an old man with a bald head looked back at him.
I realized it was Lou, the same religious nut I had spoken to the day before.
“We need your help to protect this compound,” Captain Harold went on. “Everyone needs to do their part at this time. We will give you the training and equipment you need to protect yourself and your loved ones.”
“We get to carry blasters?” a rough voice asked from the opposite end of the cafeteria.
I couldn’t see who was speaking, but I recognized the question. Anyone joining up just so he or she could carry a blaster was probably joining for all the wrong reasons.
“After you’re trained to handle a firearm, you will be allowed to carry one, yes,” Captain Harold addressed the question. “I know this may be uncomfortable for a few of you, but I’d like you to stand up and join me right now if you are willing to do your part. We need to start recruiting immediately and now is as good a time as ever.”
An uncomfortable pause fell on the room. It reminded me of when I was a kid, and I would go to church to witness an altar call. The preacher would invite everyone up to the front who needed prayer or to receive a free gift. This felt a lot like that.
“You’ll be compensated, of course, once we have a system to do so,” Captain Harold coaxed. “Retroactive pay included.”
“Well, I’m in,” the hard voice said from the other side of the room. The man finally stood up so I could get a look at him. He was a big fellow. Years at the gym coupled with an unhealthy diet gave him round muscles covered by a layer of fat. He wasn’t exactly tall, maybe six foot, or just under. He made his way to where Captain Harold and his pair of suits stood.
“Glad to have you.” Captain Harold nodded down at him. “You’re making the right choice.’
“Asking about carrying weapons and then joining after the promise of payment,” Boss Creed said under his breath. “All the wrong reasons, if you ask me.”
I was thinking the same thing, but I kept my mouth shut and sipped on my coffee. I had enough to worry about, and there was no way I was going to join.
“Is that it?” Captain Harold looked around the silent cafeteria. Anger began to lace his words. “Everyone needs to do their part. We need more officers to secure and make our camp safe from who knows what’s out there. Stand up, become the patriot your people need you to be.”
A short woman from the far end made her way over to Captain Harold, then a middle-aged man with glasses, and finally, that same young boy Captain Harold had looked at before, stood up.
“Yes, you’re making the right decision.” Captain Harold encouraged them all to come to him. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“Jackson, no!” A woman stood up next to the young boy who was making his way over to Captain Harold. “You go when you’re older if you still feel like it’s the right thing to do, but not now.”
“It’s my choice,” the boy said in a shaky voice.
He was tall for his age and lanky. Awkward as boys are supposed to be at that pubescent age. His hair was orangish-red, with a sprinkle of freckles tossed against his fair skin.
“That’s right, welcome,” Captain Harold said, encouraging the boy.
The boy’s mother wasn’t about to give up. She followed her son all the way to Captain Harold, nearly screaming as she went. “Jackson, no. We lost your father in the crash. I’m not going to lose you, too! You’re too young.”
“I’m going to join, Mom.” Jackson had tears in his eyes. His voice cracked. “I’m going to join for Dad.”
The two suits on either side of Captain Harold moved to intercept the mother.
Blocked by the suits, she looked up at Captains Harold, hoping the man would agree with her. “Please, please, Captain Harold. He’s only thirteen. I know he looks older, but he’s just tall for his age. Please, he’s too young. He can help the colony in other ways. He can run food and water or build the wall or whatever else needs to be done. But he doesn’t need to be around blasters or in harm’s way. Please don’t take my only child from me. He’s all I have left.”
The way the woman begged even tugged at my cold heart-strings, and that was saying something. I looked along with everyone else to see what Captain Harold would say.
The captain looked down at the woman before stepping down from his chair.
I could still see the exchange between the two as everyone else in the cafeteria remained seated. He placed a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“What’s your name?” Captain Harold asked her.
“My—my name?” the woman asked.
“That’s right,” he said. “What’s your name?”
“Martha, but why does that—”
“Martha,” Captain Harold interrupted her. “Your son is doing the right thing. I know you can’t see that because he’s your son and you want to look out for him, but he’s doing the right thing here. In fact, you should join too. You can be with him every step of the way. Doesn’t that sound good? You and your boy can both help the colony together.”
Martha’s face went from tears of sadness to confusion and then anger. “You’re not going to take him from me,” Martha screamed. “This trip has taken enough from my family. You’re not taking my son!”
Captain Harold took a step back as Martha lunged at him. The pair of suits grabbed her, wrestling her to the ground as she continued to scream for her son.
People were beginning to feel uncomfortable. They quickly rose from their seats, some backing away.
I had to admit, even I didn’t know how to feel. The kid was too young in my book to serve in any official capacity as a suit. If we were about to be overrun by some alien threat, then that was something else, but there were plenty of adults left who could pick up arms and defend the group. Far as I could see, we were a long way from recruiting kids to do the heavy lifting.
“Leave her alone!” someone yelled.
“Get off of her!” Someone else in the cafeteria threw a coffee cup at one of the suits.
Jackson saw the whole thing through horrified eyes.
Boss Creed was already on the move. The large man shouldered his way through the crowd. Ricky and I followed. I took one step then another, not really having a plan of what I was going to do but knowing that I needed to do something if no one else would.
It was hard to see exactly what was happening between the pair of suits and Martha on the ground. What I did see was one of the suits put a foot into the back of her neck while the other tried to secure her hands behind her back with a pair of magnetized cuffs.
Boss Creed was there a moment later, grabbing the suit with his boot in the back of Martha’s head. He lifted the suit completely off the ground and threw him across the room like a rag doll.
Captain Harold was speaking into an earpiece. My guess was he was requesting backup. His right hand rested on the butt of his blaster.
The other suit working on Martha’s hands succeeded in securing her with a pair of magnetized cuffs. He reached for his stun baton. The stun baton extended with crackling blue sparks erupting from the end.
Boss Creed was built for brute strength, not necessarily speed. He blocked the first swing of the baton then fell victim as the baton came back and struck him across the left side of his arm.
CRACK!
An electric current ran through Boss Creed’s body. It was enough to take the large man down to his knees. The suit Boss Creed threw across the room recovered. He came back with his own stun baton. Another pair of suits entered the cafeteria at a run. They also reached for their stun batons.
Boss Creed was regaining his feet when the two suits around him swung their batons down on him again. His body spa
smed. He fell to the ground.
I knew I couldn’t just stand here and watch. I think Ricky knew the same thing.
“Okay, okay, he’s had enough,” Ricky said, placing a hand on one of the suits’ shoulders.
Bad idea.
I honestly don’t think the suit even thought about what he was doing. He just reacted to someone grabbing him. He reached back with his stun baton and caught Ricky in the middle of the stomach.
Ricky went down in a heap.
There was so much jostling and yelling going on, I couldn’t hear what Captain Harold was saying. I think he was shouting to both sides of the conflict to stand down. It was a little bit too late for that.
“You need to get out of here before things get worse,” I told the suit who had cracked Ricky. I had my hands at my side as non-threatening as I could be.
By now, the other pair of suits that entered the cafeteria was on crowd control. They pushed the mob of colonists back away from the conflict.
“Is that a threat?” the suit in front of me asked.
“That’s whatever you take it as,” I said, shaking my head.
It was probably adrenaline, maybe too much testosterone that made the suit in front of me lunge forward with his baton. Either way, I wasn’t going to stand there and get stunned.
9
The suit in front of me lunged with a straightforward jab. The baton crackled with blue electricity as I sidestepped the attack. I moved to my right, allowing his forward motion to carry him a step farther.
I turned sideways, striking out with my right hand. I used the blade of my palm, pinky forward to smash into his neck. I really didn’t mean to hit him that hard. He dropped the stun baton, falling to his knees. He grabbed at his throat with both hands.
“You’ll be alright. Just give it some ti—”
The suit Boss Creed had thrown rushed forward. This one was a bit smarter and came at me with an overhead swing.
I telegraphed the blow, grabbing his hand holding the weapon as it descended on me from above. I held the weapon at bay with my left hand, using my right to send two bone-crushing hooks into the space below his left arm where the armor came together.
After the strike landed to his left side, I ripped the baton out of his temporarily weakened grip. We looked at one another.
“No, do—”
I tased him.
He fell to the ground spasming.
“Watch out!” someone in the crowd yelled.
I turned in time just as the two new suits who arrived late to the party rushed me together. One was a short man with a wide belly, the other, a woman who couldn’t be out of her early twenties.
I dropped the stun baton I was holding, choosing to trust my own hand-to-hand combat skills instead of using a weapon I wasn’t used to. They were running at me. I raced to meet them.
I took two large steps, building momentum, then leaped into the air, bringing my right knee up with me. My knee cracked the underside of the male suit’s chin with all the weight of my body behind it.
He went down like a sack of beets, and I landed on top of him. I looked over to the woman who was charging with him. She had stopped moving and was looking at me stunned along with everyone else.
She dropped her baton and took a step backward.
Smart girl, I thought. That’s the most sense any suit has shown in here today.
“That’s enough, Dean Slade,” Captain Harold said. He pushed the barrel of his blaster against the back of my head. “Get up.”
I went through my options. I could give up here or press the fight. There was a chance I could spin faster than he could pull the trigger and knock the blaster out of his hand.
“You are clearly very highly trained,” Captain Harold stated. “You have assaulted multiple Civil Authority Officers. I would be within my rights to kill you where you stand. You pose too much of a threat to the colony. Turn around slowly. If you try anything, I will kill you.”
I lifted my hands into the air and obeyed. Something he said tickled the back of my mind. I turned to look at him.
Captain Harold took a step back to create separation between himself and me. He held his weapon in a two-grip stance, eyes trained on mine, finger on the trigger.
“Died a long time ago,” I said with a sardonic grin. “You’re fighting a ghost.”
Captain Harold’s hard eyes betrayed his surprise and confusion. The barrel of his weapon never left my chest, but I thought for a moment I recognized empathy in his expression as if he understood exactly what I was saying.
He’s lost someone, too, I thought, noticing the same, tired expression I’d found on my own face so many times before.
“What is going on here?” Arun’s voice echoed into the silent tent. “Who is responsible for all of this?”
I didn’t turn my back on Captain Harold. There was still a chance he would pull the trigger. If I was going to go out, I wanted it to be with my eyes open and in the chest, not the back.
Whether it was luck or fate that had other plans for me, Captain Harold holstered his weapon. He looked over my shoulder at Arun.
“We were recruiting new Civil Authority Officers for the Orion Colony when a mob mentality broke out.” Captain Harold explained the events as if he was talking about Sunday brunch instead of the circumstances that put half a dozen people on the ground.
I turned as Arun pushed through those gathered with Stacy beside her. Both women wore angry scowls on their faces.
I knelt down next to Ricky’s side as they began to sort things out. Ricky was already coherent. He was on his back looking up at the tent ceiling.
“That was a really strong current,” he said, breathing out deeply. “I feel like those stun batons have to be recalibrated or something. That much charge shouldn’t be legal.”
“Can you stand?” I asked.
“Let’s see,” Ricky said, taking my hand.
I pulled Ricky to his feet. He took two unsteady steps then evened out. Boss Creed was already on his feet. Stacy knelt down and helped Martha out of her cuffs.
Arun and Captain Harold were having a heated debate just above a whisper.
I couldn’t catch much, but I did hear Arun say, “Not here, in private.”
While the suits were getting to their feet, those gathered in the cafeteria began to trickle out now that the fun was over. The large man who had volunteered to become a suit to begin with, came up to me with knowing eyes.
“I know who you are,” he said. “I saw you use that same flying knee move against Victor ‘The Vice’ Crane. Knocked him out in the first round. The stands went crazy. I still remember his teeth flying from his mouth.”
I didn’t say anything. It was pointless to try and lie my way out of this one, not after the show I’d just put on.
“You’re good at dispatching a couple suits who went through a few months of hand-to-hand training. I wonder how you’d do against another gladiator, someone who’s been in the ring himself,” he said.
I understood what he was getting at, although I didn’t recognize him. His large nose and meaty figure didn’t ring any bells. This wasn’t that much of a surprise. There were thousands of gladiators across the globe all working their way up from neighborhood gyms to city fights and state exhibitions.
“Well,” I said, looking straight into his dark eyes. “If you see another gladiator around, I’m not hard to find.”
“Right,” the man smirked before retreating with the suits out of the tent.
“I’m not dumb, Dean,” Ricky said, placing his hands on his hips. “I get now that you used to be a fighter or maybe even a gladiator before you were a mechanic. I want the truth.”
My cover was blown sky high. I might as well be wearing a bright neon sign saying that I was a trained fighter. But who knew? Maybe that would actually be better. Maybe people would stay away from me now.
“I was a gladiator, Rick,” I said, coming clean. “It’s a life I wanted to leave behind, but I gue
ss some parts of you, you just can’t shake. I’m sorry for lying to you. I guess I was lying to myself that I could ever really be rid of this past.”
Ricky’s scowl disappeared after my apology.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. I’ve—I’ve just never heard you apologize to, well, anyone ever before,” he said, cracking a smile.
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m not really sorry for much these days,” I said. “So, we good?”
“I mean, yeah,” Ricky said, lifting his hands to his face and throwing a few wild punches. “Maybe you can show me a few moves sometime soon. Or—”
“You two okay?” Stacy came up to us.
I turned to see Boss Creed being treated by Doctor Allbright. A shallow cut alongside his forehead was letting loose a slow trickle of blood. Martha had been freed and was crying softly alongside some friends who knew her. The suits along with Arun and Jackson were all gone.
“Tased but still standing,” Ricky said.
“I’m good,” I answered Stacy. “What happens now? I mean, with everything that just went down here.”
“Not exactly the best way to start recruiting for the Civil Authority Unit.” Stacy shrugged. “I guess now Arun and Captain Harold have to work out this situation. I don’t mean just what happened here in the tent, but how they’re going to move forward in the future.”
I knew what Stacy was getting at. Arun and Elon genuinely cared about the Transients under their care. Despite my not liking the man, I thought Captain Harold cared for them as well. He just had a different way of showing it.
The captain showed his level of commitment to the colony by doing whatever it took to protect it. This meant recruiting as hard as he could, training his officers and fortifying the position.
I understood all of this. What I disagreed with was his ideology that the end justifies the means.
“You all going to be able to make it to the funeral?” Boss Creed asked. He joined our group with a fresh new scar on his forehead, courtesy of the Heal Aid in Doctor Allbright’s hand.
“I told him he needs to be evaluated for further treatment but…” Doctor Allbright extended her hands to Boss Creed, taking him in up and down as if that were explanation enough.