Son of Sedonia

44

Enemies


“ABOUT FOUR DAYS,” said the chief engineer. Four days? Jogun could hardly believe it. The tanks in the fusion plant were over twenty stories high...and there were hundreds of them. The City must have been running week-to-week on shipments from Themis. How could they let things get this bad? All his life he’d watched the City glowing silently beyond the Border. The exact same brilliance each and every night. Powerful. Ever-lasting. It had looked as if it were made by God to light Heaven and Earth. ‘Like us and the suns, nothing lasts forever.’

He had tried to look hard and calculating during his tour of the plant, but fear churned in his gut. The place was huge...huge and crazy complicated. The container-lined walls reached up forty stories to the domed ceiling, and groups of big, round ‘reactor chambers’ sat in the center of the floor. The engineer rattled on about deuter-something-reactions this and neutron-something-damage that. Jogun hated feeling so stupid. His Themis programming as a Crawler tech had been so specific, limiting him to geology, lunar physics, and basic maintenance. If only Matteo was here...he’d have all this stuff on lock.

“If four days is what we got, then that’s what we work with,” Jogun said, “Just gotta be careful where we use it. The teams’ll be in place by midday tomorrow, so we gotta get movin’ on prep for the main push.” He looked up at the tanks as though he were deep in thought. Really, he just meant to hide the fear. He had enough of his own to deal with, no sense in spreading it around.

“And after, sir? How do you plan to occupy a modern MegaCity without power?” asked the engineer. Good question, a*shole. The answer in his heart told him that they would just leave. With their enemy crippled, they would go back to Rasalla and live in peace. But the hunger in his soldiers’ eyes told him the truth. Same as Matteo, they had wanted the City and its treasures for their whole lives. They’d never leave willingly.

“Oh, we got power. All that the Righteous need. The Power of God, my friend,” Jogun said, loud enough for his T99 escorts to hear. It didn’t feel right coming out of his mouth. Shouts from the entrance bounced through the warehouse, along with the sounds of rattling ammo belts and thumping footsteps. Jogun tensed as his men turned on the noise with their rifles ready. They stood in front of him.

Just a group of T99 runners. They were smiling...laughing. Jogun’s men lowered their weapons as the runners trotted to a stop.

“Oki...” Jogun said, “Man, you gotta stop haulin’ ass into places unannounced!”

“Jo—!” Oki panted as he tried to talk, “Whe—We got ‘im!”

Cold goosebumps rippled down Jogun’s neck, shoulders, arms, and back. Matteo?

“Whoa, calm down man, got who?” Jogun asked, trying to keep calm himself.

“K-Kabbard! Sergeant motherf*ckin’ Kabbard, the Robo-Pig Himself! Got him trussed up in a bodega down the street!” said Oki. Jogun sank a little. Then, from a dark place deep inside, the rage eclipsed everything.

“Show me.”

Jogun had to use his Augs to keep up with the young Nine. The ape-like soldier bounded ahead through the technological maze of Outer Ring streets and alleys, calling out the news to anybody nearby. By the time they reached the ruined shopping center, they had gathered an army.

The crowd parted in the ground-floor mall plaza to allow the Healer and his men to pass. Jogun ignored the whispers as he walked uncomfortably through ashen burns and dried blood on the concrete. His fingers twitched as he imagined wrapping them around Kabbard’s throat. But the man had to answer a question first.

Armed T99 Black Hoods stood in front of a glass doorway with sign above it reading ‘Utopi-Mart.’ The guards stood aside as the door slid open for Oki and Jogun. A chirping electronic chime greeted them.

Oki led him past the freshly emptied shelves to the back storeroom. They had turned its reinforced concrete walls and cold laminated floors into a cell. Bodies of EXOs and SCPD lined the edges of the room, facing Black Hoods in the center as they were tended by the Blue Ladies. All were wounded. Some had died. The EXOs’ legs were bare, tugging at Jogun’s memory. Outside, he’d seen, but not noticed, several Nines with shiny new Augs on their legs. He flexed his own, feeling the new familiarity of the servos’ soft hum.

Then there he was. Sergeant Kabbard...or at least some withered shell of him. He sat flat-legged in the corner with two reddish black lumps of stained, twisted fabric at his knees. Arms tied behind his back. A wrinkled old Blue Lady knelt beside him, dabbing the wounds. Kabbard’s head drooped forward, his tightly groomed hair matted and stained. Something foul dripped from it to his soaked suit pants. They pissed on him. The urge to choke, let alone touch this broken creature dimmed a little. Still, the question burned. Jogun dismissed the Blue Ladies with a wave, then a bow. Spoke once they’d gone.

“Douse him,” Jogun said. One of the Black Hoods picked up a metal bucket of water and flung the contents at Kabbard. The man jerked back and coughed. Shook his head. Jogun stood over him, clutching a pistol.

“Where is he?” asked Jogun. Kabbard blinked in the cold, buzzing light of the storeroom and looked up at him. Started laughing. A deep chuckle at first that grew sharper and louder, empty of any real humor.

“You again...” Kabbard said, stopping as he saw the Augmentors. Jogun didn’t move a muscle.

“Everyone out,” said Jogun. The Black Hoods nodded and obeyed. Oki lingered.

“Hey man, you sure you want to—”

“OUT!”

Oki sucked his teeth and walked to the door, kicking an EXO’s bloody stump of a foot on the way. The man yelled in pain as Oki stepped out. Jogun crouched beside the Sergeant.

“Where did you take him?” Jogun asked. Kabbard stared into him. Gray eyes as still as a dead man’s.

“Take who?”

Jogun sucked in a breath and swung the pistol hard, cracking Kabbard across the jaw. Blood spattered the smooth concrete wall.

“WHERE?!”

Kabbard winced, worked his tongue against his inner cheek, then spat a glob of red on the floor at Jogun’s feet. Said nothing. A moan from beside them answered instead. A young EXO stirred on the floor. Burns and char marks covered much of his body. Black blood seeped from both his nose and a gash in his forehead.

“Sir...?” the officer squinted and tried to push his way up. Like some kind of old blind man back in the Temple. Jogun glared at Kabbard.

“Maybe I’ll ask him. ‘Scuse me, officer...” he read the name stitched into the blackened uniform, “‘Vaughn!’ Do you know where this man right here took my baby brother?” Jogun trained his gun barrel on Vaughn’s exposed right knee. Only pitiful moans escaped the officer’s lips. Jogun kept his eyes locked on Kabbard’s.

“Do you. Know where. This man. Took my baby brother...?” Jogun gnashed his teeth together as tears welled in his eyes.

“Wha—?” Vaughn said.

BANG! Vaughn’s kneecap shattered in a spray of bone and blood. The man screamed, then passed out. Kabbard lunged forward, forgetting his own knees. Added his own scream. Jogun slapped him in the face. Fighting down the urge to retch, Jogun pointed the gun at Vaughn’s other leg.

“Where.”

Kabbard panted in ragged gasps through his teeth. He wasn’t laughing anymore. He glared up at Jogun again. Squinted.

“Son of a bitch...I remember you...You’re the Slum-F*ck I put away for murdering Kathy Roland. Mousey little house-wife type. Real pretty. Didn’t deserve to go out like that, but you motherf*ckers,” Kabbard glanced at Vaughn’s leg wound, “You put her down like a dog. And now you want your ‘baby brother.’ Just what in the hell makes you think you deserve something like family?”

It felt like a shotgun blast to the gut. Stitches that closed the long hidden wound ripped apart, spilling the terrible memory inside. The night of the storm. The cold, wet dark of the apartment. Mama dead and bloody on the floor. And him. Dad. The man who was supposed to love and protect them. The man who ordered Mama not to have any more kids, but still raped her when he felt like it. Standing out on the rain-soaked balcony with a baby in his arms. Jogun felt the gun in his hand now as he did then. Heavy. Slippery from sweat. The tug of his finger against the trigger, helpless as his father dropped the baby over the side.

But Matteo...The Gift. His second chance. Even though he didn’t deserve it. That meant it was a gift of grace...not a reward. A gift from God. He would do right by God and protect his gift. Didn’t matter what it cost. He stood, walked over to Vaughn, and pressed the gun barrel to the officer’s forehead. Watched as Kabbard seethed in the corner.

“You son of a bitch...SON OF A BITCH!” Kabbard howled. Jogun lifted the gun and chambered a round. Inhaled sharply as he pushed the barrel harder into Vaughn’s head.

“NO! Stop...” Kabbard said, gathering the will to say it, “F*ck Sato...”

Jogun waited, feeling the terrible moment. Fear of the answer suddenly choked him.

“They’ve probably got him by now. Top floor of the tallest building in the City. Can’t miss it,” said Kabbard. Jogun stood, holstered the pistol, and stormed to the door.

“Probably dead now though,” Kabbard snickered. Jogun paused. Took the gun back out.

“At least...I hope he is,” said Kabbard. Jogun crossed to him in a heartbeat and jammed the pistol barrel into the man’s sneering skull. Kabbard pushed into it.

“Go ahead, go on, DO IT! Do it, you f*cking piece of shit, this is what you are, this is what you do, DO IT!”

The trigger squeaked as Jogun squeezed harder and harder, waiting for the pop.

“You tell Governor Sato, I’ll see him in Hell,” said Kabbard.

In the space of three breaths, Jogun stopped. He jerked the gun to the side and buried three rounds in the wall. Kabbard looked up, confused.

“Maybe that is where you’re goin’,” Jogun said, standing up, “Or maybe that’s where you are.” He holstered the gun. The Black Hoods rushed in, having heard the shots. Jogun turned and pushed through them.

“Prep one of the Scouts,” he said.