We're nothing but slaves.
Danny was at risk of losing consciousness from screaming so long, and Legacy hadn’t even arrived yet. Vincent watched him with disapproval, somehow still surprised by his friend’s willingness to accept the NGG’s carefully tailored versions of the so-called heroes.
He didn’t blame Danny, not really. He’d felt the lure of the hero teams himself. They were held up like gods by most people, and they lived with powers that even most Adepts could only dream of. Add to that the billions spent on propaganda, and it was hard to resist the allure…he had to admit, the hero squad was a lot more appealing than dreaming of mandatory service in the army.
Finally Danny seemed to register Vincent’s lack of reaction. “Oh come on, man! Even you have to be pumped for this, it’s Legacy! He’s one of the greats!”
“He’s exactly like the others,” Vincent said coldly. “Maybe worse. He does anything the NGG tells him, no matter who it hurts.” Vincent felt Lucia’s hand on his arm, and looked over to see sympathy in her expression. He had to concentrate on breathing to keep his calm.
Danny seemed confused by the exchange, but wisely stopped defending the so-called hero. “Okay, if you say so Vince,” he said finally, then left the table. Vincent watched him subtly join a few other friends who shared his excitement.
“Don’t hold it against him, Vincent. You know he’s worshiped Legacy since he was a kid. He had Team Infinity posters on his walls. He…” she trailed off. It seemed the memories still had power over her as well. “He doesn’t understand what they’re capable of,” she said at last.
“There’s supposed to be over a hundred Farms in the former US alone, what do you think the odds are that he’s coming here by chance?” Vincent asked.
“He could be taking some kind of recruitment tour, it’s not unheard of. There hasn’t been a lot of villain activity lately according to the news they actually let us watch in here,” Lucia said, considering.
“Nothing even borderline worthy of attention at his level,” Vincent agreed. “Any villain still willing to risk going against the NGG has to be laying low by this point. The more flamboyant, costumed ones have all given up, been locked up, or killed at this point.” Vincent looked at the other students still celebrating, and shook his head sadly. “It’s bad out there.”
“It’s bad in here,” Lucia said with conviction. “Look at all of them, they’re just scared kids. They have no idea what they’re being brainwashed into,” she turned and stared pointedly at Vincent. “They could really use someone to hel–”
“We have our mission,” Vincent interrupted loudly, glaring at his sister.
“You have a mission, and it’s not even your own. If…if your plan works, we can really make a difference for the people the NGG is exploiting.” Vincent stood up suddenly.
“Fine, Lucia, I have my mission. Go ahead and forget about mom, even though you’re turning into her,” even Vincent could tell he’d gone too far from the look on her face, and he quickly turned and made his way out of the cafeteria.
The sun was setting when he got outside, and the autumn air was starting to get cool. Vincent took a minute to just breathe, needing to calm himself. Only Lucia could truly rile him like that, bring him so close to losing control. Vincent tried to put it out of his mind, he needed to move on with his task for the night.
He started heading toward the workshed in the back of the facility, taking one of the less-traveled paths that went around most of the major buildings. As he walked, he stared up at the sky, watching stars slowly appear. Even in the peaceful setting, he couldn’t completely get his sister’s words out of his mind.
She only thought she understood his mission–and maybe she truly did understand part of it–but there was more. More that he was certain she didn’t know. That their mother hadn’t wanted her to know. It’s not her path, she’d said that night. But she’d never said why…why he had to do this alone.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of other students nearby. He saw them between two buildings, it was Gary Sawatzki, and predictably he was bullying two of the younger students. Gary was always number two behind Robert in terms of being a strength obsessed Gamma junky, but to Robert’s credit, he never cared about anything other than those two things.
Gary took obvious pleasure in hurting people.
Vincent thought again about what Lucia had said, but ultimately he still chose to ignore what was going on. He had somewhere to be tonight. He’d only taken a few more steps, however, before he heard a scared young voice calling out to him, “Please, help us!”
Vincent froze in his tracks, and let out a long, irritated sigh. This isn’t the right night for this, he thought. But looking down at his KD, he saw it was the right time. He waited another thirty seconds, then moved into the small alley where two students–a boy and girl, both looking around twelve–were pinned to the wall by Gary.
Gary was large, easily half a foot taller than Vincent, and bulky with Gamma-grown muscle. Vincent didn’t stand a chance against him, but he walked up behind the enormous bully regardless. He moved quietly, knowing he had few options.
Of course, weaker or not, Vincent was still an Adept, and he was likely stronger than any normal human twice his size. Physics was a dangerous weapon. As Gary pushed the two against the wall once more, Vincent surprised him by gripping his face, then pulling him backwards and slamming him into the ground. Muscle was great, but if you weren’t using it right, it was just more mass to be thrown around.
Gary’s head hit the cobblestone first, with his legs comically folding underneath him then flinging outward from the momentum. Vincent wasted no time, grabbing both students and ushering them out of the alley. As he did, he spoke loudly, but calmly, as if nothing was the matter, “This way, kids, the dorms are over here, you must be lost–”
He was cut off as push from behind sent him flying out into the open courtyard, tumbling to a stop easily fifteen feet away. He groaned, slowly rolling over. The two kids were screaming, but Gary was loud enough to be heard over both of them. “I’m going to kill you Villari!” he screamed while charging out of the alley.
He managed to take two full steps before a stun baton slammed into the back of his neck, with a level of force only a completely developed Adept could manage. The baton lanced into his side several more times for good measure, and Gary convulsed with each electric shock.
“Well, well, well,” said the voice of Guard Captain Malary, the–thankfully punctual–leader of the 6:30 patrol of the Northern wall of the facility. “Death threats, now Sawatzki? You’re really upping your game.” He used the stun baton again. Punctual, and unpleasant. Bad luck, Gary.
The Captain looked at Vincent, who was slowly dragging himself up, continuing to theatrically groan in pain. “Villari, get these two to the dorms. Now.” Vincent nodded, then limped over to gather the students and usher them away.
As soon as they were out of sight of the guards, Vincent straightened, abandoning the facade. “You’re okay now. Just avoid Gary for the next few days. He’ll find another way to get himself into trouble.” He turned and started moving back toward his destination.
“Thank you!” said the girl, and Vincent raised a hand in acknowledgment.
“Go, quickly, or you’ll get me in trouble,” he said, and thankfully heard them racing away a moment later. He’d wasted enough time, and if he didn’t hurry Clint might turn him away. Vincent doubled his pace, making sure to take a route that wouldn’t cross the Guard’s patrol.
A few minutes later he was quietly knocking on the door of the small, unadorned shed tucked back in a group of trees by the North wall. Vincent anxiously searched around as he waited, but thankfully the sound of several electronic locks opening came after only a few moments. He rushed inside with no hesitation.
The interior of the shed was a stark contrast to the outside’s unassuming appearance. Rather than the collection of gardening equipment and tools one might expect, instead it was filled wall to wall with scraps of electronics, as well as numerous monitors and salvaged wall tablets. The entire room was lit by the blue light of countless devices, and it was always hot.
Clint, the groundskeeper, and supposed Basic, sat on his customary stool on the opposite side of the small room, fiddling with something as usual. He was small, completely bald, and a little overweight. Dressed in plain coveralls, the only thing memorable about him were the glasses he wore, which magnified one eye and shrunk the other. He turned when Vincent shut the door, and looked him up and down with disapproval. “Fighting? You better not have drawn the Guards to my door, Villari.”
“Never, Clint,” Vincent said quickly, knowing the paranoid man was not someone he wanted to upset. Vincent knew his secret; Clint was actually a Tech, and with the right leverage he could make use of that fact for himself. However, if Clint ever decided Vincent might give away that secret, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.
Vincent glanced around at the seemingly innocuous pieces of technology adorning the walls, and wondered–not for the first time–just how many were capable of ending his life at a single thought from the plain looking man. “I just need favors, same as always,” he placed a handful of Gamma doses on a nearby workbench. “And I’ll pay, same as always.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Thankfully, Clint was as addicted to Gamma as anyone Vincent had met, and he couldn’t secure it easily for himself while keeping his cover as a Basic. He snatched the small green vials, and tossed them into a nearby drawer. “More messages? Whoever you’re sending fan mail to isn’t worth this risk, Villari.”
“Thank you, Clint,” Vincent replied, ignoring the warning. He placed a small data drive on the table, and the tech rolled his eyes before plugging it directly into a nearby drive, tossing it back a second later.
“Messages sent,” he said, and a display confirmed that fact. Now operations Usurper and Glass would proceed on schedule, even if Vincent couldn’t communicate regularly for the next several months. Clint went back to his work, but looked behind him again a few moments later. “Why are you still here?”
In answer, Vincent placed another fifteen doses of Gamma on the desk, but slightly out of the Tech’s reach. Clint’s eyes narrowed, but his suspicion couldn’t hide his hunger for the vials. “What’s this, then? More messages?”
Vincent produced the three K-Tech Devices, his, Lucia’s, and Danny’s, and placed them next to the Gamma. “I need these scrubbed,” he said simply, gauging the man’s reaction before giving up anything more. Clint’s eyebrows raised, but he didn’t look outraged or upset, and Vincent inwardly relaxed–he had worried that even asking for this might push Clint over the edge.
The Tech looked from the small hand devices to Vincent, then spoke at last. “You won’t be able to send messages yourself, even if they are scrubbed. You can intercept signals from outside, and you’ll get full access to the Network, but KDs can’t transmit in the compound.”
Vincent almost laughed in relief. The man’s biggest concern was that Vincent would still bring him Gamma for more transmissions. “That’s fine, Clint. As long as you keep sending my…fan mail, I won’t need that. Can you do it? Tonight?” The man tapped a finger against his chin while staring at Vincent, and didn’t answer right away.
“Twenty more doses,” he said at last, and Vincent let his jaw drop.
“This is half a month’s rations right here–” he began, gesturing at the pile he’d placed on the table.
“Then find another Tech,” Clint said, turning away. Vincent was careful not to let anything show on his face. He knew the man was likely seeing him through a dozen cameras right now, and he couldn’t risk losing this bluff. For the second time this night he leaned on his meager acting skills, letting out a long, dejected sigh.
Kneeling down, he pulled a small pouch from his sock, and upended it on the table. “I can give you another twelve, but…it’s all we have. Please, Clint, I thought we were friends!” He really didn’t.
Clint had gone very still at the sound of more doses clinking against each other. It was more than Vincent usually paid the man in months, and he was counting on it being too much to resist. When the man hadn’t moved after more than a minute, Vincent finally played another card.
“Fine, I’m sorry I asked, Clint. Please don’t tell anyone about this.” He slowly dragged the Gamma back toward his pouch, making sure the glass vials made as much noise as possible as he did so. Clint visibly flinched at every sound, then finally turned around.
“Okay, I’ll do it, Villari. But only because we’re friends.” They really weren’t. Vincent put on his best smile and pushed the devices toward Clint as quickly as he could. He didn’t think the man would try to steal the vials, but as long as Vincent was still in a position to smash them, he had a hint of leverage.
“Thank you so much, Clint! My friends and I are going to be able to watch movies, old TV, anything! You’re the best,” the man only grunted in acknowledgement, turning away from Vincent and gathering a few more tools. He turned again in under a minute, tossing the KDs back and holding out his hand for the Gamma.
Vincent retreated a step, “You have to be kidding,” he said, accidentally letting his normal tone come through. He looked down at his own device, which unlocked in his hand.
Welcome to the Network [VINCENT VILLARI].
ADMIN access granted.
Send/Receive Access granted.
Warning: Send functionality currently limited.
Restricted Class database Access Granted
No Class detected.
Starting device in ADEPT mode.
Vincent looked up, unable to hide his surprise. “It was that easy?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking. Thankfully, Clint just laughed.
“Sure, easy. Just takes being a Tech for almost four decades. Now, Gamma,” he finished, while waggling his fingers. Vincent hastily poured the doses into the pouch, and passed them over. He’d already pushed his luck.
“Thanks Clint, I’ll see you soon,” the Tech just grunted again, turning away and clutching the pouch to his chest.
“Coast is clear. Get the hell out of my shed,” he said gruffly, and Vincent hurriedly complied, happy he didn’t need to give the man the other thirty doses he’d brought.
***
“How the hell did you get these?” Danny whispered–way too loudly. Lucia smacked him in the arm, then gestured at the gathering of hundreds of students around them. It was a bright, sunny day, and one of the exercise fields had been co- opted for the power demonstration. Everyone was now waiting for Legacy’s arrival, supposed to be any moment.
Vincent looked over and saw that Danny was scrolling through countless restricted broadcasts, marveling at his scrubbed K-Device. In front of everyone. “Put it away, Danny,” he said forcefully, and his friend begrudgingly complied. “And we don’t talk about that here, remember?” Danny finally had the grace to blush, and Lucia rolled her eyes in disappointment.
“Besides,” Vincent continued, “it doesn’t matter how I did it. We have what we need, now. Just be happy and wait for your idol,” he added bitterly. Danny looked at him, obviously understanding that he’d upset Vincent, but not truly grasping the why. Vincent absently wondered if he should tell his friend the full story of how he’d come to be in the Farm, but this wasn’t the time for that.
Danny clearly made an effort to find his previous excitement, looking around the crowd and trying to see over heads to watch the front gate in the distance. Vincent looked away, disappointed with himself. He’d resolved to let this go, but it wasn’t easy. He was considering apologizing to his friend when the crowd of students all began talking at once.
“They’re here!” Danny said, being the only one of the three tall enough to see what was happening. The unorganized mass of students all began shuffling and moving around, everyone trying to see the gate at once, but the ever-present guards were having none of this. A few moments of this behavior was all it took for Guard Captain Malary’s voice to roar out.
“Everyone in line, NOW!” he bellowed, and the students hurriedly tried to follow the instructions, pushing one another freely. The Captain’s love of his stun baton was well known, and no one wanted to risk angering him further. It took a couple of minutes for the two hundred or so students to gather shoulder to shoulder, but they managed it.
Everyone now had a clear view of the procession of army vehicles that was heading toward the field, and the anticipation grew with each moment. Captain Malary’s glare, combined with the rhythmic tapping of his baton into his open palm kept the group quiet, but it was clear that many of the students were fit to burst with excitement.
At last the trucks came to a stop in a messy line nearby, and soldiers began to pile out. These were the Elites, as their all-black uniforms indicated. Each one would have some kind of advanced class, though nothing at the level of those rare few that made up the official hero teams. Still, they were miles beyond the Basics which guarded the students, and any one of them was likely just as deadly without the powered rifles they carried.
Several came and joined the guards as crowd control, with the rest forming a rough perimeter. Vincent couldn’t imagine what possible threat they were looking for, as their charge was capable of leveling this entire compound on his own. At last a final vehicle’s door opened, and a very large man stepped out.
Dean Allister stepped forward to greet the man, surprisingly–and somewhat disturbingly–wearing a full smile. Vincent looked at the newcomer with confusion. He was dressed in nothing but shades of gray, and wore what almost looked like medieval armor. Metal plates were attached to combat fatigues, and he even had a full knight’s helm, completely covering his face.
“That’s Ironfist,” Danny whispered–this time at an appropriate volume. “He’s not in the news much, but I’m pretty sure he was on the same team as the Warden back in the day.” Vincent nodded, that answered one question. The students continued to watch with obvious impatience as the two men carried on some unheard conversation for several minutes.
At last the Dean led Ironfist to the front of the gathering. “Students, we are lucky to host the great Ironfist for our demonstration today. Some of you may know of his heroics in G-Force, but you’ll have a far better understanding of his abilities after today, I assure you,” he stepped back, indicating his companion. “Ironfist!” he called out, and began clapping.
The students hastily followed his lead, though their disappointment was obvious. Many still tried to look past the man to see if anyone else would exit the parked vehicles. It was impossible to tell what Ironfist thought of their reaction with his face entirely hidden, and he merely waited patiently for the clapping to cease.
Once it did, his own voice rang out over the crowd, deep and slow. “Thank you for hosting me, future heroes. I look forward to demonstrating the powers that you all no doubt aspire to.” Silence answered his words, until another voice called out from somewhere down the line from Vincent. He shook his head in wonder, of course it was Gary.
“Who the hell is this guy?” he yelled. “Where’s Legacy?” Captain Malary was sprinting toward Gary, baton raised, but he came to a sudden halt when Ironfist’s hand landed on his shoulder. Murmurs came from the gathered students: Ironfist had easily been fifty feet away from the Captain only a moment ago.
“Don’t worry, Guardsman,” came the deep voice, “It’s a fair question.” Malary reluctantly backed away, and Ironfist continued. “So, you were all hoping to see Legacy, were you?” A scattering of agreement could be heard, though many of the students were obviously very nervous around the strange man in knight’s armor.
“Do you really think that one of the greatest heroes this world has ever known would just show up at this Facility?” he asked the crowd, and the students started shuffling and muttering in confusion. The large man waited until the voices started to rise, then raised a hand for silence.
“Don’t be foolish. Heroes don’t just show up…you need to call on them!” Vincent raised an eyebrow, finally recognizing the pageantry for what it was. The students murmured again, but most hadn’t caught on. “Well,” Ironfist continued, “I said you need to call on him!”
Vincent’s eyes widened as Danny was the first to take up the call, “LEGACY!” he screamed into the sky. Vincent was about to chide his friend for drawing attention, but barely a second passed before more calls started to ring out. Ironfist started pumping his fist in the air, chanting ‘Legacy’, each time.
Soon the calling synchronized into a chant, with nearly every student shouting out to the hero at the top of their voices. Vincent was disgusted, but mouthed the name along with them, knowing he couldn’t afford to stand out. The chanting continued for nearly two minutes before their answer came.
Every single vehicle, parked so haphazardly before, was suddenly lifted into the air, a familiar green glow gathering around them. The chanting stopped abruptly as every student watched in fascination. The massive trucks hovered almost ten feet above the ground, and began organizing themselves into a neat semicircle, surrounding the area marked out for the demonstration.
Finally they lowered back to the ground, and the students looked around in anticipation and excitement, trying to spot the hero. Once again it was Danny who was ahead of everyone, and he pointed at the sky with open wonder. Everyone followed his gesture, staring in astonishment as something akin to a demigod drifted down toward them.
The man had changed since the pictures in the Pledge, with his uniform updated for modern sensibilities, but there could be no doubt as to who he was. The suit was still mostly blue, but mixed with black like the Elites, and only small spots of red and white decorating the fabric stretched over toned muscles.
He was in the center of a bubble of the same shade of green that had surrounded the vehicles…the same exact shade as the Rad storms. He landed lightly in the center of the open area, his short brown hair blowing in the wind the moment the bubble disappeared. As he surveyed the gathering of adoring students, he finally smiled and raised his arms to his sides.
Legacy had arrived.