SAIF
“Tom, you are strong,” Saif said. “Not just your manifestation, but you.”
The seeds had rooted well, and the vines kept the wrong thought from entering the boy’s thought stream, having a steady, constricting grip on them.
“Lift me. Slow and steady,” Saif said.
An invisible force grabbed and pushed him upwards, from underneath. As if he was standing on a platform.
“Rachel! Look at me,” Saif said. “I am flying. Well, technically.”
Rachel smiled from the side of the field. “Yes, I see.”
“The power behind his mind. He could hurl me through the ceiling if I had not restricted him. Did I tell you about his memories? He grabbed a fully decked combat suit and slammed it into a wall. With his manifestation alone. As if he had Beth’s strength, but he is able to apply it from a distance,” Saif said. “I think he needs to be tested properly. Real battle. He is coming with us on the campaign.”
But Rachel seemed occupied, distant even. Not interested in the lesson. He thought about diving into her mind and seeing what bothered her, but decided not to. She was loyal, she would know if he went in there. She trusted him to respect her and so he did. Maybe it was just a phase. They had been through quite a few of those through the years they had been together. This was nothing new.
“Down,” Saif said, putting words behind the thoughts he injected into Tom’s stream.
His boots touched the floor and his weight was put on them again.
With water fueled into his manifestation, Saif dove into Tom’s mind again. It looked alright. No traces of those morbid thoughts again. The vines swept them away from the stream, away from being put into the kid’s consciousness. Stable and ready.
The Russians and Americans had grown suspicious towards him lately. Too many dreadnoughts and Space Cities were constructed for their liking. It was time to put his foot down, hard. Teach them a lesson and put someone else in their control. Those shit countries, too many simpletons, who he was unable to control and affect effectively. Something more hands-on had to be done on them. Tom was ready. A Russian Space City was not far away from here and would be the first step on their campaign to Earth.
“Alright, it is time. I have a mission for us,” Saif said. “Pack your bags. We are going on a field trip.”
Who would have thought the day Russia and America would be the tightest of allies? Weird. Unnatural, even.
“We are going on that campaign, you have been talking about. I can see the anticipation in your eyes,” Rachel said. “How exciting.”
“There is this rumor that Putin the 21th is visiting a Russian Space City not far from here,” Saif said. “He is the oldest of the current living clones.”
The Russian dictatorship. Saif liked the concept behind a dictatorship. It provided quick and distinct decisions, especially effective during times of war. But, why they kept cloning that ancient man, Vladimir Putin, was beyond him. The cloning process itself, for every new generation of clones, there was a distinct loss of intelligence. Everyone after Putin the 11th were essentially simpletons, thus Saif was unable to control their minds. Maybe it was deliberate from their side. These Russians kept surprising him.
Rachel looked concerned, he observed.
“What is the matter, darling?” Saif asked.
She hesitated. “I… I just want this to be over with. All of this.” She raised her arms to the sides. “War and conflict. So we take Earth, use it as bait and then slice the hand of the aliens as they reach for it, as you said. Will it be over after that?”
She doubted the cause. This was the first time she had ever expressed anything remotely close to this. What had happened? How could her view have changed over night? Had he been too occupied by himself to miss her transformation?
“I am bored of it all,” Rachel said. “It has been months since something exciting happened. When Milo and Beth escaped, that was exciting. I thought war would have been more of that and less of this.”
“Waiting is the most important part. Patience, my dear Rachel. We don’t want to make any rash decision,” Saif said.
Ahh. That made sense. If she had wanted to be left alone and not be involved in the conflict, she could have stayed back in one of their fancier Space Cities. But she being bored was within her normal routine.
“They burnt my mind, you know that right? You fixed me. It was not too pleasant. Maybe they should have burnt yours instead?” Saif said. “I am kidding. When the war begins for real. The real war. You will be far from being bored and your manifestation will be in great need. This campaign will be glorious. Tom will fling around those thick skulled Russians, since most of them are simpletons and I cannot reliably control them.”
Rachel kissed him. “Yes. Let’s do that!”
-
The main fleet consisted of fifty-seven dreadnoughts, a lot of smaller ships like gunships and corvettes in different configurations for various purposes. And several Asian spearheads and their larger ship class, the tridents. A formidable fleet, indeed. Putin the 21th would be stupid to even lock their weapons on them.
The Synapse was the freshest dreadnought out of the assembly yard; the biggest and the most technological wonder that mankind has ever seen. Saif felt his own pride as he entered its bridge, Rachel and Tom followed closely behind him. His empire awaited him, he just needed to grab it.
Admiral Harris sat in the Captain’s seat, Saif stopped behind him and watched the crew officers work inside the bridge. Admiral Harris old personnel, together they worked efficiently and seamlessly. Their thought streams were seeded deep, no amount of space battle would shake them out of his control in the near future.
They arrived.
Saif had anticipated that the Russian controlled Space City would be like the other Space Cities. But no. Three separate Cities connected by elevator tubes created this triangular structure. It looked weak and inefficient. If one City or elevator tube was damaged, the shockwave risked damaging the others. It must be the latest Putin’s mad decision, no educated architect or Navy man would commit to this design.
Saif put a hand on Admiral Harris’ shoulder. “Comm link? Response?”
“Patching in,” the Admiral said.
The speakers surged, before the Russian accented voice came through. “Proud men and women. Your warships cannot pass this line.” A line was drawn across their star chart. “Or it will mean war. You are allowed to send a representative and an entourage for discussions. Putin the 22th sends his regards,” the Russian controllant said.
“22th? The rivalry for the leadership must be fierce,” Saif said. “Alright, Admiral, park the fleet by the line. I will take a shuttle and a small detachment of men. You know the drill, don’t open fire when I am inside. Even if they start shooting. I will need to be out first, but also think about all that hardware. I want it intact.”
Saif had thought about cloning himself. But that had been before he had discovered Rachel. The loss in intelligence for every new cloned generation was too much. The growing stupidity, would his manifestation even pass over to each clone? The clone would not have been the same person as him. It was fortunate that he had found Rachel instead. It solved the longevity problem. Time and patience were on his side, and it would be that way until the end of the universe.
The shuttle ride across was short and simple. A pilot held the controls, Saif sat behind him with Rachel and Tom on his side. A detachment of combat suits stood ready in the back of the shuttle. To bring even more mainfestees was stupid. This was enough and the combat suits were merely for show. The Russians, especially the Putin clone, would lock their eyes on the combat suit’s weapons and think less about Saif himself. Putin the 22th would surely be a simpleton, thus impossible to control, but that made him predictable.
Saif held hands with Rachel. She smiled at him and looked excited, as if their previous conversation had made a difference in her mood. This would be good for her and their relationship.
Their shuttle was accepted through and into a dock. The shuttle rocked slightly as the docking clamps gripped it, locking their shuttle down with both mechanical and magnetic force. Engines fell into silence.
Saif stood up. “Tom, I don’t want their people too close to us. Nudge them a little bit away from us. Just to keep the way cleared, but don’t fling them away just yet. We will let them sweat for a bit first.”
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“Yes, sir.” Tom breathed out, raising his hands to wait height.
Tom was ready for this. Saif made sure that the seeds in the boy’s mind were rooted deep and the vines displayed no signs of degradation. He could not have the boy go rogue on him.
With Rachel on one side and Tom on the other, and the detachment of combat suits in a ring around them, Saif exited the shuttle; an Emperor striding on new land that was ripe for the taking.
Of course there would be a crowd. But, the size of it and their loud yelling surprised him. Degenerates. Russian soldiers in aged combat suits stood in front of the giant crowd, holding it back. The sheer amount of people felt too much. Had the entire City’s population come to watch him enter? No. They must have a population problem. Simpletons, Saif sighed and shook his head.
“Follow us,” the Russian guard said.
Saif nodded. “Of course.”
The crowd parted easily, thanks to Tom, and the guard leading them through.
Infrastructure and the general design of the City was strikingly similar to Europe13, except for one regard. Everything looked aged and poorly maintained. Why had Putin let this happen?
Saif usually said that every Russian and American were simpletons, but that was an exaggeration, not all of them could be. He just needed enough of them on his side for the plan to work. Mob mentality was a strong concept. Sweetness flooded his mouth. As they were led to the throne chamber, he dove into anyone close and checked their mental statuses. Were they simpletons or not? If not, he seeded them, not enough for complete control of the subjects, but enough so that they would listen when he injected a thought into them.
Putin the 22th was a small boy, who looked even smaller when sitting on his throne. The throne room itself looked way too large to have any practical value, especially inside a Space City, where volume was king. But that was the point, to show how wealthy and in control he was. Saif had used the same strategy when he had disguised himself as Commander Jacob Meyer. But those days were over, now efficiency and practical thinking were far more important. Combat suits lined the throne room’s walls with what could only be called as honor guards that flanked Putin’s throne.
Putin raised a pistol-like weapon. “Hmm. I don’t like the look on you or the rumors about you.”
“What rumors?” Saif said.
“How you mess with people’s heads. With their thoughts,” Putin said, still with the pistol in hand, but not aimed down at them at least.
The seeds continued to root in the new subjects.
“Yeah, unless they are too stupid. Like you,” Saif said. “But don’t take that negatively. It is actually quite ingenious of you to degrade an entire population’s mind capacity. Maybe your predecessor had something in mind. If the choices were made to counter me.”
The Putin boy would not catch the sarcasm.
“Your predecessor, not 21 but Putin the 20th. He was there all those years ago, in that room, where five people saw those probes make first contact with the aliens,” Saif said.
The Putin boy wore a smug expression on his face. “Yes. He told me this rubbish. Don’t you come here and tell me again,” Putin said, raising the pistol towards him. “You are wasting my time.”
“I am try…,” Saif started.
Putin pulled the trigger, the laser beam erupted from the pistol. A split second later the beam halted in mid air before being deflected to the throne room’s wall. Tom had caught it with his manifestation. Tom looked in Saif’s direction and he nodded back. Putin’s pistol crumpled into a ball of metal and the Russian dictator looked confused by what had just happened and what was in his hand.
“Thanks, Tom,” Saif said, turning to the throne. “Putin, that was uncalled for. I would very much like it if I could finish. I am trying a new method. A little more heroic-like, if you would. Before I take everything from you, for the sake of saving humankind, I would like you to know why,” Saif said, Putin’s hands trembled. “Stay your hand. I have gained control of almost ten percent of that crowd out there. They are my new army. So think before you act. Please.”
“You fool! My royal guards are here!” Putin yelled.
Stupid boy.
“Attack!” Putin yelled, brandishing the crumpled pistol in the air.
Putin’s royal guards slammed into Saif’s ring of combat suits. Laser beams, projectile weapons and augmented punches were exchanged. Any stray weapons that went for Saif, Rachel or Tom were all caught in mid air and tossed to the side by Tom.
Saif injected his command into the seeded people in the crowd.
“Kill them!” Putin yelled. “Kill them all!”
Tom went on the offensive and started to break the necks of the royal guards, while there were still inside their combat suits. Saif observed how the guard’s helmets twisted a full lap before their bodies went limp.
There was running and screaming outside the throne room. An angry mob that have had their aggression, thirst for violence and rebellious thoughts turned up beyond normal limits, could take down a dictator. Why did high seated people, like this Putin, always forget about the civilians? There was a sense of naivety with these rulers, they would be unfit to lead in the coming war. A good thing that Saif came around and claimed their lands and people for his empire. Just had to get the simpletons to switch sides.
The royal guards thinned out. But one of the royal guards stepped through the line of combat suits and trained its laser cannon at Saif. Its helmet was torn, but somehow had survived Tom’s neck breaking and the laser scorches that had burnt into its plating.
“How brave of you,” Saif said. “You might think of yourself as the hero, but that is not the case. We are.” Saif waved for Tom to go ahead.
The guard rose into the air, its laser cannon ripped into shreds by the same invisible force.
“We are here to liberate your people from this oppressive ruler. To fold them into my empire. When the war starts, the only safe place left will be under my wings,” Saif said.
The rabid mob stormed into the throne room. Putin being the only one left alive, sat in his throne, held down by Tom’s invisible push.
Saif turned to the mob, made them still by an injected command. “You are under my arms now. You have been oppressed by this tyrant and his clones for far too long. But no more. I have saved you.”
The mob yelled, in battlecries and joy. They wanted Putin ripped into pieces, and they would get it. Saif fel their anger, their violence, their thoughts were so alike.
“Before I leave you to thrive in these cities. I want to be clear to you. The truth. Out there, in space. There are alien invaders that are looking to end us, to end humanity. I need you at my side,” Saif said. “When the war starts and I call, you should be ready. Thrive, build machines of war and of mass destruction. You will be the heroes!”
The mob yelled again.
Saif smiling. “Go!”
Saif released the hold command, the mob went after Putin. The boy dictator could not get away with Tom holding him in place. But once the mob piled over him, Tom let go. Putin yelled in agony underneath the bodies as he desperately fought the mob. Their anger had festered for far too long. Saif just had to shove their fears away and pull their rage and confidence into the light. A small thing, really. It was interesting exactly how little he needed to change to create a rebellion.
Putin and the crowd on top of the boy was pushed backwards, through the back wall and into the room behind, vanishing from the line of sight. Russian screams and curses still echoed through.
Saif turned to Tom, loosening the vines. “Why did you push them away?”
“It was getting too violent,” Tom said, pointing at Rachel. “I didn’t want her to see all that.”
Saif nodded. “Good, lad. But in the end it was not necessary. Rachel is used to it. We are leaving. They have been commanded what to do,” Saif said. “Any simpleton left in these cities will be killed by the mob or feeling compelled by the sheer group pressure to work. Tom, Rachel, with me. It is time to return to the Synapse.”
The walk back to the shuttle was uneventful. Now the crowds parted sooner, the ones that were left, the others were already rampaging through the cities. Culling Putin’s soldiers.
“I don’t understand why he was even here? So close to us,” Rachel said. “It feels like an unnecessary risk. Our fleet is in the open, his sensors must have picked it up.”
“A good point. Those Russian dictators have wanted to unseat me for a long time. They don’t like the challenge. Putin the 22th was too stupid to realize his mistakes. He was here to assemble his own fleet and allies, to attack us at Europe13. What an idiot. And now the titan has fallen,” Saif said. “Putin the 23nd will probably rise to command. Will he try to retaliate or join us? Only the future will tell. We will just have to go from Space City to Space City, Colony to Colony, Planet to Planet, and weed their influence away. Make us their heroes. They will gladly join our cause. That feeling of freedom and rebellion, it is strong. If their seeds and vines degrade, it doesn’t really matter. Because that feeling is so naturally dominant. Our empire will rise, my empire will rise.”
Rachel laughed with him.
Humanity might still be saved. Maybe his efforts will be enough.
“I have recognised some from this crowd, to be able to become manifestees. They will follow us to the next stop,” Saif said. “There is an American controlled planet a bit off from here. I want to stop there first.”
Rachel grabbed Saif’s arm with her free hand, she was already holding hands with Tom. So odd, but Rachel was an odd woman too. Saif didn’t think more on the matter, instead he smiled by his successful campaign.
-
A Russia controlled by its people. How long ago had that been even a remote possibility? Saif was unsure, maybe it had never been. Before the control of Putin and his long line of clones, there had been other dictators, whose names were not worth mentioning. A beautiful thing. A growing Russian rebellion within the Russian minds. Saif was the hero the world needed.
“Good work today, dear,” Rachel said, while soaking his back.
Relaxed by the day’s effort, he sighed. A soapy bath and a back rub would do wonders when the mind had worked hard. It was interesting how tired the body became when the brain did all the work.
“Thank you, but it was a team effort this time. The combination of my manifestation and Tom’s, it works wonder,” Saif said. “There are many critical stops on the path to Earth. Much left to do.”
“Them Russians are the vengeful type,” Rachel said, stopping the sponge. “Ahh, you tense too much. Feel this?” Rachel rubbed on that spot where the shoulder connected to the back, a pain shot through him. “When you are put in stressful situations, you tense your shoulders. Like this.” Rachel displayed how he rolled his shoulder forward. “See. It screws with your posture.”
Saif shook his head, Rachel had some weird ideas sometimes, leaning towards being manic even, but that was why he loved her. All the small things. “I know. I have told you, the problem is the structure of my bones. Please, dear, crack them and align them for me, and heal them. This stiffness is not that nice.”
Rachel sighed. “No. No. That is not the problem. It’s in your head. There are no issues with your physical body. It’s perfect. I have mended it that way. Okay, so drop that delusion, okay?”
“Okay, okay,” Saif said, not having the energy to pursue the argument. “Until Tom and I have rested, we could let the rest of the fleet work and take positions from the Russians and every other nation that is in our immediate proximity. And then we move over to that American controlled planet, and make them bleed.”
“My husband, growing ever more powerful and mighty,” Rachel said, sponging down his back again.