Ironside & Aegis- Origins

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Ironside & Aegis- Origins Page 13

by David Bruno


  “I love you too, Vanessa. No texting while you drive. I prefer no phone calls, either.”

  Vanessa rolled her eyes, having heard this a thousand times before. “Yes, Daddy.” She kissed her dad on the cheek and buckled into her sensible ten-year-old Toyota. With one last wave and a honk of the horn, Vanessa disappeared into the distance.

  This was a big year for Vanessa. The third year of college was a bit of a transitional time. Most of her general-education classes were completed, and Vanessa was to get deep into her biology studies. Her future depended on the next two years. Yet all she thought of on the drive to school was her brother. Would he have attended the same state school? Would he also have studied biology? Maybe he would have joined the military. Or would he have signed up with the Agency? She hoped not. Those Agency guys, especially the guy she’d used to call Uncle Jeff, were creepy. She was glad for them to be out of her and her father’s lives.

  On the back burner were her powers. She hadn’t been practicing. In fact, weeks often went by between her superpowered exercises. It just didn’t seem important. Her future and classes were her top priority. That didn’t stop her from carrying a sling and steel shot in her purse though. It was her way of defending herself should she have to. The school couldn’t take away her piece of cloth and shot, could they? She was no victim and was determined to go “Old Testament” on any attacker foolish enough to test her resolve.

  *****

  WEEKS LATER AT THE UNIVERSITY

  The apartment door flew open. It was Vanessa’s roommate, Jill. She was a petite woman with hair dyed jet black. They had been roommates since freshman year and had become friends—though she was not yet a good-enough friend to know Vanessa’s secret.

  “Do you hear that commotion outside?”

  Vanessa was wearing her headphones with her head buried in her books and didn’t hear everything Jill said. She wasn’t much for the social scene at school and kept to herself.

  “There’s a riot out there!”

  Seeing the panic on Jill’s face, Vanessa removed her headphones. “Did you say a riot?”

  “Apparently, the school invited some speaker. He’s giving a talk in the auditorium now. I guess some people don’t like what he’s saying and are protesting. They have him trapped in the auditorium. It’s getting ugly. Let’s go check it out,” she squealed. “Please? Sounds like fun.”

  “That’s your idea of fun? What could he have said to start a riot?” asked Vanessa.

  “I don’t really know. Apparently, these people have been trying to get him uninvited to the university since they learned of it. All I know is he has superpowers and can fly. He’s going to give a demonstration which, as we all know, is against the law. He also talks about using powers responsibly and such. Nothing bad as far as I’ve heard, except he uses powers in public. Let’s go!”

  Jill had Vanessa’s undivided attention with the discussion about superpowers. “Superpowers? Someone is actually publicly talking about their own powers? He flies?”

  “Yes. Let’s go!”

  “Umm, I know it’s illegal, but why protest? Don’t these people have anything better to do?”

  “They say it isn’t fair for some to have powers and not everyone. They’re really upset. They’re demanding the government arrest him, steal his genes, and give his powers to everyone.”

  “That’s absurd! Everyone can’t have superpowers.” Vanessa imagined a world with everyone powered in some way. It would be chaos, people selecting powers off some kind of menu. Many people simply couldn’t handle the responsibility—some couldn’t handle them today when a relative few have them.

  “I just researched him on my phone. Apparently, he ‘came out’ publicly with his powers a couple months ago. He doesn’t even wear a mask. Seems nobody is happy about it. His wife and kids are here with him. They’re all trapped in the riot.” Jill scanned the article on her phone, her eyes moving left and right. “It’s a wonder that his type was invited to speak at all.”

  Vanessa sat up at attention, listening attentively to her roommate. She and Jill hadn’t discussed superpowers often. What did she mean by “his type?” What would Jill think if she learned Vanessa had powers of her own? Not only did this guy have powers, he talked about using them responsibly. But to these protesters, he must be punished. Vanessa suspected that the protesters thought they were simply doing their civic duty, as they saw it, to squash any ideas that they determined should be banned.

  “What do you want us to do, go out there and free that guy and his family? Don’t you think we should stay here where it’s safe and let the police do their job?” she asked with a shrug.

  Jill had a perplexed look on her face. She didn’t know what they should do when they got to the riot. It just seemed like the happening place to be. “Umm, maybe. It might be fun to watch from a distance. I never met anyone with superpowers. Let’s go.”

  *****

  The young women decided to check out the scene and walked to the auditorium. It was much as Jill had said. The noise and commotion grew as they approached. People of all kinds crowded the grounds and chanted in the streets and on sidewalks. As early evening set in, protesters, most wearing masks or handkerchiefs over their faces, set up small bonfires to illuminate the area. Stones and Molotov cocktails rained on the streets and toward the auditorium. The smell of burning scrap wood filled the area. Protest signs bobbed up and down as the chants grew louder and louder. They read FASCISTS DON’T SHARE POWERS, FREE POWERS FOR ALL OR NONE AT ALL, INEQUALITY OF POWERS IS HATE. Litter was strewn in all directions and the intensity of the protesters grew with each passing minute.

  As the roommates approached, it became clear that there were two sides in this display. The wild protesters whom they first encountered were far and away the largest group. A small contingent of counterprotesters held ground next to the entrance of the auditorium. They were standing guard in quiet protest with no signs, no chanting, and no incendiaries.

  “Oh, my, Jill. This is crazy. Do you see those signs? Who would say stuff like that?” She pointed to the signs, most of which looked to have been professionally printed. She shook her head with confusion. “What gives them the right to throw things and hide their identities like cowards? I wonder if the speaker and his family are still inside? The police don’t seem to be doing much about the situation.”

  Jill nodded, only half listening, instead drawn to the spectacle.

  “Their signs read about fascism, but they don’t realize that by not allowing someone else to speak, they are acting like fascists. I guess the irony escapes them. Maybe we should leave,” advised Vanessa. She worried that the situation had become a powder keg and didn’t want to be there when the match was lit.

  “No way! It’s just now getting good. Go if you want, but I’m staying.” Jill was captivated by the scene. Vanessa patted her purse to feel the steel shot inside and be certain she hadn’t left it in the apartment.

  The campus and local town police had set up a perimeter to keep the protest contained but did nothing to stop it. Two factions were clearly divided. Conflict was imminent. Vanessa and Jill approached the quieter group alongside the building.

  “What’s going on here?” Vanessa asked a young man who was trembling and refused to take his eyes off the protesters. He had mud splattered on his face and shirt, courtesy of the protesters.

  “These people won’t let the guy talk. He’s trapped inside. They said if he comes outside, they’ll kill him for the good of the country and the people. I don’t like that he’s out in the public and advocating use of his powers. But I agree with him that everyone can’t have superpowers. The police won’t do anything about it. When did it come to this, that we can’t have meaningful discussions even if we disagree?” The three of them ducked as a paper cup full of mud zoomed past them, showering them with filth.

  Vanessa and Jill, now splattered in mud themselves, took in the words of the young man. Regardless of beliefs, he was right. When
only one side can be heard, there is no more education, only propaganda and censorship.

  “Vanessa, you’re right, we should’ve stayed home. This feels like a gross overreaction. Think they are professional protesters? Many don’t even look like… ” In the dark, a stone smashed into the side of Jill’s head before she finished her thought, sending her to the ground. She screamed in pain as she held her head. Blood gushed from her wound, immediately soaking her hand through her fingers. The young man removed his outer shirt and used it to apply pressure to Jill’s head.

  Vanessa crouched down and held her friend as she freaked out. “Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! We need to get you to a hospital!” She looked for a way out.

  “It’s no use,” said the young man. “The protesters have us surrounded.” The police had witnessed the assault and chose to remain idle. “What are the police waiting for?!” he shouted.

  “They’re waiting for us to die,” muttered Vanessa as she balled up her hands and scowled. “I’ve had enough of this.” She pulled her sling and a handful of steel shot from her purse. As she stood up, the crowd began to taunt her.

  “Go home!” shouted one protester. “Your hate has no place in today’s world! One way! One world! Powers for all!”

  Vanessa cautiously approached the protesters. “Who threw the rock and hurt my friend?” she asked. There was no response, only blank stares. She asked louder, “Are you deaf as well as stupid? I said, ‘Who threw the rock?!’”

  A gangly white man with dreadlocks and a tie-dyed shirt stepped forward. He pulled the handkerchief down from his mouth to reveal his face. “I did. What’re you gonna do about it, bitch?” he taunted.

  At that moment, Vanessa noticed another rock heading her way out of the corner of her eye. At the speed of a synapse, a shield instinctively appeared from her left forearm and blocked the rock. It fell harmlessly to the ground.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes, you piece of garbage.” More rocks hurled toward Vanessa. She was on her own shielding herself to the best of her ability. Nobody came to her defense. A stray rock slipped through her defenses and smashed into her leg, momentarily buckling her knee. She worked back onto her feet. This is getting out of hand. The police just stand there watching. It’s up to me. She quickly loaded her sling.

  With superhuman dexterity, Vanessa unleashed a barrage of small steel shot toward those she saw throw the rocks. She didn’t want to kill anybody. They just needed to back off. With expert precision, she landed her shots at the center of mass of four protesters. Each was stunned, grabbing at their chests and wailing in agony, perhaps exaggerating for the law-enforcement onlookers. But they were alive and the assault of rocks had ended.

  Vanessa observed her achievement, a first for her. She had singlehandedly quelled the assault and breathed a gentle sigh. She turned to go back to Jill, who was now under the care of an EMT who had dared work through the crowd to help. Some on both sides stared in quiet awe at Vanessa’s demonstration of powers and dexterity. Her secret was out. Oh, my God. What have I done?

  Then, someone grabbed her arms and hands from behind and cuffed her.

  “You’re coming with us, freak,” said the town policeman as he took Vanessa into custody.

  “What for? You saw what they did to my friend and the hail of rocks they threw at us. I ended it.”

  “All I saw was you assault peaceful protesters with your superpowers. We don’t like freaks around here using their powers and breaking the law. You’re under arrest and going to jail.” He read Vanessa her Miranda rights and loaded her into his cruiser. She stared back at the crowd and then at her roommate, who immediately looked away from her.

  *****

  Vanessa posed for her mugshots. Her pretty face and blonde hair were soiled from the events of the evening. The lighting created strategic shadows to give her a sinister expression in the photo. Her blue eyes focused on the camera as she bit her lip, trying to hold back tears. The police moved unusually fast in processing her. All of her personal belongings were in police custody, including her mobile phone and the remaining shot and sling. It was almost as if they were looking for someone to make an example of. Clearly, that someone was Vanessa.

  “We’re going to allow you to make one phone call. I suggest you call your parents.”

  “You’re all heart. I’ll make the call, but please tell me, is Jill okay?” she inquired.

  “You mean the girl who wouldn’t have been hurt had you restrained yourself? Yeah, she’s okay. In the hospital with a mild concussion, a little upset that she roomed with a freak and didn’t know it. She’ll be fine though.”

  Vanessa huffed a breath in frustration. “How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t start it? The protesters threw rocks first. I reacted to stop the attack on my friend.”

  “That’s not what my officers say. They were keeping an eye on things and say you started the fight. Call your parents,” the officer directed.

  Vanessa called her father on the precinct phone. “Dad. Something bad happened.” Her voice shook as she spoke.

  “Are you okay?” Max replied, his heart beating through his chest.

  “I’m in jail. I tried to protect people and the police say I started it. But I didn’t. Honest. Those people hurt Jill and I tried to make them back off. Can you be here? I need you, Daddy.” Tears streamed down Vanessa’s face as the gravity of her situation finally sank in.

  “I want to know everything that happened. I’m on my way.” Max jumped to his feet, grabbed his keys, and sped away to liberate his daughter.

  Vanessa was placed in a jail cell until Max arrived. By her estimation there should have been a hundred protesters there instead of her. She waited… and cried.

  *****

  Max burst into the police station. “Where’s my daughter?” he demanded.

  “Sir, sit down right now,” ordered the captain as he stood at attention. “Who do you think you are?”

  “I’m Max Hastings, and my daughter is incarcerated here under false pretenses. I want her out, now!” He wagged his finger at the officer’s face.

  “Your daughter was caught red-handed using a deadly weapon and freakish powers to attack peaceful protesters. She stays here! Sit down and shut your mouth so we can process her.”

  Max was not accustomed to being talked to in this manner by anyone other than Dr. Doe. He wondered if he needed to contact the Agency to have them send their goons in to make an example out of this police force. But a clearer head prevailed and he switched his focus to getting Vanessa out of there.

  Max sat down quietly at the captain’s desk. “Alright, what do I need to do to get her out of here?”

  Before the captain could answer, his phone rang. “Let me get this.” He picked up the phone. “Yeah.”

  Max observed the call. Clearly the person on the other line was in charge. The captain did not speak other than an occasional “uh-huh” or “I see.” Max keenly observed the captain’s behavior to the muffled voice on the phone and knew he was being scolded. While at the CIA, he had learned how to read people in certain situations. The captain occasionally glanced at Max during his tongue-lashing.

  After a couple agonizing minutes, the conversation ran its course. “Yes, sir. Will do. Thank you, sir.” He hung up the phone and stared at Max for a moment before speaking. “I don’t know who you are, Max. But you know people. You need to keep your daughter on the right side of things. Understand? She’s free to go.”

  “Just like that?” Max asked with equal amounts of surprise and relief.

  “Just like that. Oh, one more thing. Dr. Doe sends his regards.”

  Max blanched. He was, of course, overjoyed that his daughter was free. But he wondered what this unsolicited favor from the Agency would cost him.

  Within a few minutes, Vanessa and her dad were in his car heading to the hospital to check on Jill.

  “Dad, I didn’t start that fight. You should have seen it. Those protesters were like rabid animals. The
y looked brainwashed. I don’t think most were even students at school.”

  Max looked at his daughter. It was worse than she knew. He suspected a link between the Agency and the protest. Dr. Doe’s involvement confirmed it. The Agency and other groups like them had controlled portions of the media for decades, and it wasn’t much of a leap to think they could have organized such an event. How else could Dr. Doe have known what happened to Vanessa and stepped in to “save” her?

  This kind of mind control was just one element of their agenda to soften up the population to think the way they wanted, hoping that when the time came to switch over to their governance, there would be little to no resistance left. Judging by what Vanessa had seen, Max thought they might just be successful.

  Vanessa reached for her cell phone and saw she had a voicemail. “Huh, I have a message. I wonder who that could be.” She put the message on speakerphone. It was the dean.

  “Miss Hastings, the university has been made aware of your antics this evening. We have to admit we were surprised since you have been a model student. Your actions are why we don’t usually invite people to speak who espouse those ideas or have powers. We thought it would be a learning experience. They will no longer be invited to our university. You are being expelled due to your use of a deadly weapon and special powers. No need to call me back. Just do not attend classes tomorrow or you will be forcibly removed and taken into custody. You will not be refunded your unused tuition for this semester.”

  Vanessa saved the message and hung up the phone. She stared at her father in shock. “I can’t believe this. What can I do?” Just like that, her once-promising future was in doubt.

  Max knew this was the work of the Agency. On the one hand, they had freed Vanessa. But they needed to be sure she didn’t agitate again. Thus, she needed to be expelled. If Max’s instinct was correct, the Agency would make it impossible for her to get into any other schools. As far as the Agency was concerned, her education was over.

 

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