"Eighty-five percent!?" Captain Malcom was practically screaming at me.

"Mind your tone."

He cleared his throat in an effort to regain control of himself. His face remained flushed. "Eighty-five percent, ma'am? We've done everything you've asked. How is it possible that the resistance has gained so much support, so fast? You projected it would be at least two more days...and more, with the last ten percent never giving sympathy. Now you're telling me it's reached eighty-five percent of New Eden, overnight?"

"It is troubling," I agreed.

"Troubling? Troubling? It's unheard-of. We can't get that kind of cohesion at political rallies. How the hell are eighty-five percent of all Exhumans in New Eden suddenly of one mind?"

"People at political rallies aren't under a system of oppression. They don't have divested rights. They don't even necesarily have a common enemy or a common goal. They have a right to choose and a right to be there, and it's in the possession of rights that there's so much room for diverse opinion."

"But you've done nothing but clamp down on the Exhumans' rights since you got here. By your own logic, you're pressing them towards unification."

I stared at the guy. For once, we were having this conversation in my office, which I resented. He'd seen fit to interrupt my work and try to barge in here, pounding on the door and demanding admittance when he found it locked.

If he had something to go on, I wouldn't have minded so much. But as ever, he was all talk and no action; he'd only wanted to speak to me to freak out and complain. Prevent me from doing my work so that he could feel like he was doing his.

"There was a galvanizing point I couldn't anticipate," I explained. "Have you seen this?"

I turned my screen around for him to look, and he took a seat in front of my desk without asking. I hit play, and the holo filled with a smoky, distorted image.

It was a silhouette, someone in a mask only barely visible. Golden light shimmered around him, wavering as though from underwater, and boxy vertical lines constantly sliced through the image from decoding artifacts. The figure was seated, sternly upright, and though completely shadowed, had the outline of a bulky male.

"New Eden," he began. His tone that was rich and sonorous, but warbled through the obvious synthesized effects. "It is I, Vox Humanus. Here we sit together, together to tell you of our future, together...to set you free."

"That's him?" Malcom asked, and I paused the vid. "When did we get this?"

"I found several agents suddenly bursting with activity. When pressed, they were found distributing copies through the city. This is the most concrete link we've yet found to Vox, and I was looking into it, before being interrupted."

"Sorry," Malcom said, staring at the shadowy image. "Continue, please, ma'am."

I hit play, and we were treated to several seconds of smoke billowing around in the golden light and shadows. I tried not to think about how it seemed just a higher production-value sort of take on the campy Black Shark videos I had made.

"Brothers and sisters in humanity, by now you have heard my message. By now, you have seen our kin in action, felt the warmth of their hands, heard the pounding of our hearts as one. We have reached out, because you are worthy of forgiveness."

"We are all human, no matter what they call us. Human, no matter the injustices they have pressed us to commit. Human, no matter what you feel you may have been forced to become. I absolve you. I forgive you, and love you. And all I ask is for you to look within, and find the humanity they have tried to deny. Look within, and find your best selves, and drag them screaming into the light."

Malcom was shaking his head. I paused it again. "Problem, Captain?"

"No...keep on."

"You're sure?"

"Yes it's...it's just brainwashing, isn't it?"

"Hmm, I wonder," I commented. "Is it brainwashing, if he only says what they already feel?"

Before he replied, I'd restarted the vid.

"You know who I am, and who I believe you to be, and together, the humanity that we are. And it is time for us, together, to show that humanity to the world. To become what we have always meant to be. We will be human again, as free men and women, with humanity in our hearts and the sun shining on our faces, away from the cold concrete walls they've built around us. We have done nothing wrong, we will be free. Humanity is always meant to be free."

Vox was building up to a lather now, his speaking faster, his voice quivering with emotion. I could see the color drained from Malcom's face as he watched.

"Brothers and sisters, tonight we will be free. Tonight, we take our first step forward and toddle uncertain into the world. Tonight, we will be free, if you stand beside me and hold up your hearts, we will be free."

He paused, his sentence cutting suddenly short, as though he'd bitten it off. When he resumed speaking, it was in the slow, sonorous pace he'd begun with.

"But there is a responsibility to humanity, brothers and sisters. I have waited in this jail the same as each of you, and languished. For many months, have we endured the cold walls, and the heavy hearts, and the pain of what we inflict upon each other in this hell they call Eden. I endured it because I could, and it was for the best that I did."

"But then I heard of the troubles outside the walls. I heard of our lost brothers and sisters who lash out thinking they have no other way. And I want to speak to them, to tell them that I love them, to tell them their humanity was never lost, only hidden from them, and that they can join us and find it again."

"I heard of the flying man who wants to destroy all of humanity. I heard of the army which has taken the XPCA's own guns and declared war on the world. I heard of corrupt men, those who call themselves human, without a grain of humanity in their soul. And as the nights grew hot, I thought, we are many, we are strong, we can make a difference."

"And so I awoke, my brothers and sisters. I became Vox Humanus, and I saw the eyes and the hearts of so many others opening up with mine. We are humanity, and those are the enemies of humanity. And tonight, we will leave this place, and if you stand beside me, we will fight them. On behalf of all who are human in their hearts."

Again, his words were racing and his tone was soaring. It was easily missed it on the first time watching, but in the background under his speech, I could hear rising notes, only barely there, but giving his proclamation a sense of urgency, of climax.

It was really well done.

"Stand with me, brothers! Stand with me, sisters! And I promise you, the world will watch with awe. The world will awaken with us, and all the hearts of all the people of all the world will look on...and they will know. They will see."

Vox paused, and from his triumphant apex, he looked down, directly into the camera. Directly at us.

"They will see you. The human within. Stand with me."

And then it just ended. Cut to black. The silence in the room seemed much louder than before.

It was probably best that Malcom was sitting. He spent several long minutes just staring at the black screen, the tumble of thoughts in his mind occasionally crossing his face, but never enough to become words.

Until finally, he spoke up. "Tonight?" he asked.

"Tonight," I confirmed. "And with eighty-five percent of the Exhumans in New Eden -- or more, in support."

"We'll ready the fortress armor," he said, standing and pale. "We'll pull every available reinforcement."

"They're already deployed," I told him. "They've been pulled into active service, there are no available XPCA just sitting around. Every resource from Skyweb to the fortress armors are out there, drawing the line between Justice and civilian lives. We have nothing to keep Vox from doing exactly what he says."

"T-then...then we'll just...just have to make do with the guards on-hand. We must stop this from happening. You've told central? Do they know that some two-hundred-fifty Exhumans are about to attempt a prison break? And unified?"

"They know," I shrugged. "There's just nothing more they can do."

"There must be something," he turned to go. "I'll alert everyone."

"Belay that order," I said, and he paused with his hand on the door. "Captain, listen close; this is an order from a superior officer."

He turned to face me, hand still on the doorknob.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"When they gather tonight, when Vox appears and tries to lead the Exhumans from New Eden...I order you to open the gates and tell the guards to stand down."

"You're…" His eyes narrowed. "No."

"This is a direct order. You will let them go."

He let go of the door, to stomp over to my desk. "I refuse!"

"You refuse a direct order?"

"I refuse to let hundreds of Exhumans simply go. I have one role in this city and that is to ensure its continued operation. I cannot and will not order my men to do nothing--no, worse than nothing, and help them walk out of my city on my watch."

"You will do nothing because you can do nothing. Fighting back will just get your men killed. Vox's message was very clear about who his enemies are, and we aren't on the list. Do you want to change that?"

"He's an Exhuman," Malcom hissed. "He also rambled on about the evils he's been forced into doing and being. Do you want to unleash that kind of evil on the world? Do you think he's going to stop that behavior just because you opened a door for him?"

"I think," I said, standing and irritated that even at my full height, I still had to look up to meet his blue eyes. "That you will follow orders, or else I will demand your resignation on the spot."

He stared at me, eyes full of hate I knew I deserved. Then, with painful slowness, he unpinned the rank insignias from his high, black collar, and threw them across my desk.

"See you in hell," he spat.

"Better the two of us than every man and woman in New Eden," I agreed.

He slammed the door on the way out, and I wasted no time in locking it again and making sure the window was blacked out, before falling back into my chair.

I'd done the whole frogging exchange with my shoes off. Hadn't had time to put them on when he barged in here, and I had to stand up to him with my bare feet cold on the concrete floor and hidden behind my desk. I couldn't blink in staring him down, couldn't let him see my weakness, and yet there I was, barefoot as a neanderthal.

It felt hugely fake. The insignias on my desk felt too heavy, too crunchy in my palm as I gave them a gentle squeeze.

I didn't like Malcom, but I wasn't here to destroy his life or anything. He was just another person in my way, and I didn't have the time to go around him. I had too many things to do before tonight.

It really looked like Vox had me. Everything I'd done had only increased his hold over the Exhumans here. Every play he'd made had countered mine, turned around the things I'd said or done and outmaneuvered me...leading to this. Leading to his ultimate, unstoppable triumph. Throwing open the gates seemed like just a final bid at having some say in a situation which was well out of my hands.

I should have been mad. I should have felt outplayed. Should have felt worthless and defeated.

I got up again, double-checking the lock on the door and the blackout on the window, bare feet slapping on the cold concrete, before heading back to my seat and tucking them in under me as I sat down.

I should have been embarrassed or miserable. If I were any kind of real leader, it should be me resigning over my failure, not him.

Instead I grinned. I wasn't any kind of real leader. I opened my locked desk drawer and pulled out a mask. A new one, deliberately styled to look nothing like Black Shark. Embedded in it was a voice synthesizer to make me sound rich, sonorous, male.

It was desperate times out there, and the XPCA did not believe in desperate measures. We were sitting on three-hundred-some Exhumans here, who had powers, who were the best of their kind, the most loyal and faithful and American of all Exhumans; the ones who'd picked New Eden because it was the right thing to do. And I was counting on them all to do the right thing again, and to fight.

These Exhumans had the power, the capacity, and with me playing both sides of the XPCA, the means to go out there and serve. But they still lacked something, the most important something: A reason to fight.

It'd stumped me for a while, until I thought of the situation exactly as Vox would. By looking at them like regular, ordinary humans. Why did Americans enlist in record numbers when their nation was under threat? Why did so many choose to fight, despite the risks, despite the mismanagement of the armed forces and veterans programs, despite the apathy of the government, or the arbitrary nature of countries and borders as a whole?

The answer, I concluded, was that it was just in human nature to fight. We were a predator species. When someone threatens a lion, they don't run, they turn and kill you. All these Exhumans needed was a reminder that there was a lion in each one of 'em. Or even more dangerous, a human in each one of 'em.

And hell, I hadn't expected this kind of success. Even working the system both from within and without, leveraging contacts I knew like Argus and Khol, playing off some friends I'd made in the New Eden staff...I never expected to see so much of the city consumed by my message in just four short days.

But I guessed it was just an echo of something we were seeing everywhere right now. When snails hit the fan, most people would buckle up and do whatever they could do help. Even here in New Eden, nobody was ignorant of what was happening outside. Everyone knew the dangers the world was facing, they were just permitted to be complacent because there wasn't an outlet.

Well, Vox was that outlet. And holy heck did the Exhumans deliver.

I finished recording another little speech and put away the mask. Tonight was the make-or-break night. And while I knew all the pieces were in place, there was always the chance that one or more of them would go rogue. I'd have to be on the ground, there'd have to be a Vox for these people to follow. If anything went wrong, I might not be in a position to fix it -- and while I'd taken every possible precaution to focus these Exhuman's fervor towards the real threats, there's no telling what might happen if bullets began to fly.

It was several hours later, and close to the appointed time, when something did of course go wrong. I was making sure that those on patrol tonight were more loyal than stupid, micromanaging guard shifts and generally making myself a nuisance, when I found the terminal I was working on suddenly refused my submitted change.

It was moments later when the terminal locked itself and told me I had no permissions or access. I swore. Kinda.

It was too tidy to be a system glitch. My access had been revoked, and there wasn't anyone in the entire agency with the authority to do that to me. Which just left those outside the agency. MPs, or…

I swallowed hard, and checked my recently-neglected mobile. As expected, it'd been blown up the last few days with dozens of voice messages I'd had silenced. The most recent of which was from a few minutes ago.

Someone from the president's office. "Hello, Director. The president has made clear that if you do not address the situation to his satisfaction, the futures committee will be dissolved and command of the XPCA will be granted to staff from the DoD. As you've not chosen to respond in a timely manner--"

I hung up. Pretty much told me all I needed to know. They were probably coming for me any minute, too. But why the heck now? All I needed was one more day. I called up AEGIS, but she didn't pick up. Busy with Athan, handling some much bigger situation than this one, I was sure.

So what the hell was I supposed to do? I hadn't yet put through the orders to let Vox leave peacefully, didn't want it stewing in the men's mind all day and give them time to come up with something stupid. But now, if I didn't get that order out, we might be looking at a bloodbath. Which...I mean...the plan would still work, the Exhumans would still be mobilized, loosely under my control, and pointed in the right direction.

But at what cost? Starting the entire operation with blood on their hands would erode the humanity I'd worked so hard to inspire in them. It meant every situation where the XPCA and Vox clashed, violence was the status quo. It was another drain on resources that nobody could waste at the moment, to say nothing of how stupid it would all be.

I heard boots in the hall. Not the ordinary tromping of officers, but the heavy, measured tread of soldiers, several of them, marching. I swore again kinda, and dove into the drawer to grab everything of substance.

Moments later, the door rattled with someone pounding on it. Someone in an exosuit. They weren't screwing around with taking me in. I tore through my belongings, tossing my bulky man-disguise on my shoulder, shoving the Vox mask under my arm, hanging the Black Shark mask over my face and blinking as the optics streamed in.

"Director, open up. You are hereby under arrest by order of the office of the United States President. Do not resist, you will be given representation at a fair tribunal."

I dug through the pockets of my slipskin and heard the door crack as the pounding turned to bashing. The window cracked and the blackout dissolved, letting me see the shoulder of the exosuit coming in hard against the wooden frame.

He came through the very second I found what I was looking for, and as my hand closed around the device, the door splintered open with a crack. My thumbs flew over the controls as I crouched behind the desk, nervous sweat making my fingers slip.

There was a deadly clomp clomp clomp as the exoframe rounded the desk, and then a pause as he came around it.

The pause grew long. I didn't dare breathe.

"She's not here," the synthesized voice spoke. "Send out an alert. Find her."

They left, and from beneath the blanket, under the optical camo, I finally took a breath.

I dropped the man-suit off my shoulder, and felt around in the other pockets of the slipskin, taking inventory of what other tricks I had left. The optical blanket was one-use, as were most of my toys, and I had a whole base to get through. But this uniform wasn't doing me any good anymore, so it was time to change.

Another hour later and it was time. In front of the main gate, hundreds of Exhumans had turned up. Not eighty-five percent, but still the majority of New Eden. They were lined up in tense silence, as were the guards opposite them.

In the middle, Vox was like a beacon. Impressive and visible, invincible in the knowledge that if the XPCA wanted this whole situation to turn violent, all they had to do was to kill him. I watched with wary eyes until the Exhumans had finished assembling, and gave the situation a few minutes more for tension to build.

And then I made my dramatic entrance. I strode onto the command deck, boots clomping. At once, I was swarmed with officers looking for direction, reports of people not knowing where the Director had gone, wondering where I'd been, trying to get me to address the situation.

I paused them with a sweeping gesture before any could get too close. Before the saw the lines at the edge of my mask, make out the skinny neck of a girl protruding from my man disguise. I nervously thumbed the stolen rank insignias on my collar.

"Open the gates," I said, through a synthesizer of the Captain's voice. Reconstructed in the last hour from voice samples of all the times he'd come barking at me.

"Sir?"

"I said open the gates. I have orders. And I'm not going to disobey them just to send all my men to die. Trust in central. Vigilo Ignoto," I intoned solemnly.

There was a subdued reverence, an awe, a fear, as orders were relayed and the gates slowly lifted. I watched as the guards parted, and as Vox and all the hundreds of Exhumans in his light passed through, slowly, deliberately, into the twilight outside the fortress.

While all were distracted, I slipped away myself. I unzipped the bulky man-suit and felt like I could breathe again, as my ashen-clad limbs emerged, my slipskin, better than bare feet, tread across the concrete floor.

"You're good?" I whispered into my comms.

It was Khol's voice that answered, the Exhuman I'd gotten arrested last time I was in here, one of my many men on the inside. It was he currently wearing Vox's mask and revelling in the crowd's adulation.

"I don't know how you do it, Black Shark," he commented, disbelief in his voice readable even through comms.

"I have a lot of help," I grinned, as I headed out my escape route.