21.1 BA: Cargo

Breaching a forest of sycamore trees, the three Humvees stop at a coast. It’s a small corner of beach, bordered by trees and sedimentary rock. Far in the water, a cargo ship is anchored on the sea and running up to it is a makeshift dock made of shipping containers planted into the sand.

Gunner parks the Humvee. “We’re here boys.”

Forrest rubs his eyes.

The assignees exit their vehicles, shut their doors, and walk over the loose sand with arching steps. Forrest hikes Maeven over his back before catching up to the rest. We can’t just leave her alone.

The Will Users are leading the group, making their way up to the cargo ship, looks like; only Victor turns around to check who’s following. Forrest supposes there isn’t anywhere else to go, but he wishes they could pause for a second. Regroup or something.

Ahead, the sun is setting. The ocean greats the coast with quiet waves.

Forrest hears the clink of Gunner adjusting his rifle strap. He also can’t shake the feeling that they’re being watched. Paranoid. That’s the word in English. I’m just being paranoid. He stops scratching his itch just so he can hear better.

Dry leaves crunching to his left. Somewhere in the sycamore forest that corners around them. Is anyone else hearing this or is it just him? Another crunch from the right.

As soon as Forrest thinks to say something, little holes start to poke out of the leaves. Rifle barrels. He raises his hands and backs up, as men with clinking bandoliers step over the weeds.

Gunner and Callum shoot their hands up. There’s barely a reaction from the rest.

“Hey,” says Victor, finally acknowledging the company. “No need for all this, we’re just here to see Rich.”

“Walk!” says one of the men in Mortaresi. “You’re from The Voluntary Reserve?” says another.

Forrest answers yes.

“Forrest, could you tell them we’re here to see Rich?” says Victor, so Forrest explains it to them.

“To the port!” the men say, jutting their barrels at the direction.

“They’re just telling us to walk to the ship,” Forrest translates.

“Is that where Rich is?” says Victor.

He asks the men. They answer by pointing their barrels again, at the cargo ship.

Victor understands. “Alright then. Come on guys.” He continues to walk. “Easy now. Ocean Company stays in the middle.”

Rain is just ahead of Forrest, and she looks back and opens her arm to beckon him forward, an easing smile on her face. He welcomes the gesture immediately, shuffling forward with his furred ears turned towards the sand.

“We’ve got you Forrest, don’t worry,” says Rain. Doom volunteers to stay at the back.

They walk onto the port. The rising tide washes over the metal and over Forrest’s boots.

I’ll keep you dry, Maeven.

“Come on, quickly!” says the armed men in Mortaresi.

With clanging footsteps, the assignees make their way to the shipping vessel. Forrest glances back. The armed Ammunition members are bordered by Doom, Henri and Rain. He can see their black pants, rifles raised with their bandoliers clinking. Rain puts a hand on his arm. A gentle sign to not look. To keep walking.

Forrest reaches a ladder that extends up to the ship, Victor stays behind to help him. “Give her to me, Forrest.” says the Sky leader, grabbing Maeven and swinging her over his shoulder like a big doll.

Everything is fine, Forrest. No big deal just go up the ladder.

He climbs up behind Victor. The metal is cold and blemished with hard callouses of rust. Conscious of every movement, the placement of his feet, the tight grip of his sweaty palms, he climbs. Wind is blowing against his side and the back of his shirt. Forrest was never really afraid of heights; he keeps his eyes up as though he is.

Halfway up the ship, there’s a ruckus down below. Grunts, yells, gunshots and splashes of water. The ladder then tremors with weight.

There are assignees blocking his view as Forrest tries to see what’s happened. The guy from Sky Company, Doom. It looks like he just beat up all of the rifle men. He can see backs floating in the water.

“Up you go, Forrest,” says Rain.

Forrest keeps climbing.

As they make it over the ladder, the assignees find themselves on a white platform just outside the ship’s empty control room. Turning right, they can almost see the full length of the vessel, where colourful shipping containers are stacked in piles for a couple hundred metres ahead, all aligned evenly. You can hop over the platform and walk until you reached the other end of the ship, with how close and tall they line up with the platform.

“Where is Rich?” says Forrest. “I don’t see anyone.”

“I don’t see anyone either,” says Victor, lowering Maeven against the white metal wall of the control room. “What are we thinking guys? Ambush?”

Arms crossed, Eliza answers, “Probably.”

“He’ll come out eventually. If he’s anything like Babda, he won’t be too much trouble,” says Adi. “At least I’d hope so.”

Forrest wishes he could share the same nonchalance at the prospect of a surprise attack, finding the emptiness, the chill breeze and the fading light of dusk, all very ominous.

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“This might be a good time to ask then” —Victor walks to the front of the assignees and turns around to face them all— “Who wants to fight?”

Multiple hands raise at the question. Not a second of thinking. Victor scans the crowd with his eyes.

“Jackson, Doom, you guys had all the fun last time. Ina, you’re injured.” he says. “Hara, yes. Henri, yes. Eliza, yes. Come forward.”

The assignees step out.

“Two more,” says Victor. “Patrick?”

“Someone else can get their hands dirty.”

“Gunner? Callum?”

“Uh, we’re not Users,” Gunner says.

“C’mon now. That’s alright.”

Victor smiled as he said it. It doesn’t sound alright, thinks Forrest. It sounds very dangerous. When Ocean and Sand had to fight Babda, Maeven didn’t ask for volunteers, she had thought about it and picked them out. Couldn’t he do that as well?

And why is Victor so sure someone like Forrest could fight a guy like Rich?

With a hand raised halfway someone steps forward. They look toward the movement.

Win?

“Thank you, Win,” says Victor. “Lucky last?”

A silence. No one is stepping forward. Forrest looks for Adi; she’s sitting on the floor next to Patrick. Rain is a medic, I don’t think she wants to fight. Maeven isn’t conscious...

“Forrest?” says Victor.

“Oh,” Forrest laughs awkwardly. “I don’t think so.”

The Sky leader angles his head. “I promise that nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

“I don’t really know how to fight.”

“That’s okay. You don’t need to know.”

There it is again. Where is that confidence coming from?

“Okay,” says Forrest, unsure how else to solve the issue. Victor appears to move on quickly, satisfied with the cooperation, while Forrest feels like he’d just pressed ‘send’ on an irredeemable pad message. Okay? Not okay! Forrest doesn’t know how to fight! Why did he open his big mouth?

“Thank you everyone. Now there’s a reason why I need five of you,” Victor continues. “I call my Concept Synergy, and what it does is that I can boost the power of three fighters other than myself for a specified goal. Since three fighters is sometimes not enough, I can also—what I call ‘bench’ an additional two, who can agree to be swapped with those on the battlefield at anytime that they want. Forrest, Win, you two will be benched. You won’t be fighting unless it is completely necessary.” He glances at the both of them, attentive to their reactions.

So that’s why it didn’t matter who volunteered. Forrest feels relieved.

“Once I’ve chosen my team, I can’t change it until the engagement ends, win or lose. So before I activate this, is anyone reconsidering?”

Forrest looks up to Win: Under his cap, his eyes are ahead, unwavering; and Forrest says nothing.

“Forrest, Win, I’ve designed my Concept so that non-Users can share my Synergy, too. It’ll enhance you to a basic User level, give or take. If you want to join in you’re totally free to by the way. Same logic applies if you want to tap out. Anytime, seriously, just let me know.” Then he winks as he says, “But maybe don’t tell Maeven about this.”

Forrest nods a little.

Victor walks to Eliza. He places his hand on her left shoulder, his hand glowing a soft red, before moving on to Henri’s shoulder, then Hara’s. When he makes it to Forrest, he can feel it slightly warm to the touch. Afterwards however, he doesn’t really feel much different.

Victor takes two wooden paddles from his jacket and hands one each to Forrest and Win. When Forrest takes it, it turns a metallic gold.

“If you ever end up swapping with someone, you give them the paddle, alright? And if you’re really itching to fight, you can hold it up in front of you and give me a holler,” Victor says.

“Good timing,” says Eliza, withdrawing her fist from the metal platform.

“You find Rich?” says Henri.

“Rich is down there, I think.” Eliza points at the ground, about a metre in front of her. Somewhere deep into the ship. “I'm talking about something else.”

“Adi?” says Victor.

“He’s definitely down there,” confirms the assignee.

“Who’s coming towards us?” Henri says, pulling on the sleeves of his VR jacket. Underneath and wrapped around his arms, there are long white straps.

“Not who–you’ll see.”

The sound of crushing metal pierces the air. SHINK! CLANK! It’s one of the shipping containers beyond the platform—folding into itself like the air is being sucked out of it. With each sudden deflation, it morphs, until it’s obscured by the containers stacked all around it.

“The fuck was that?” says Jackson. Assignees walk up to the railing.

Then it begins to climb out. The corrugated metal morphed into the shape of a human body. It finds its footing. Straightening, then striding.

“Minions!” Henri says.

“You’re up, Henri!” says Victor.

The assignee glances at his leader. He hops onto the railing and advances towards the creature with a powerful push of his feet against the metal. As he lands on one of the containers he begins to run, pulling his fist back.

A single punch. The creature is sent flying.

White strips unfurl from Henri’s arms, flicking out towards the creature as if they have a mind of their own. It wraps the enemy, first around the waist then widens the loop to circle the arms. The straps then cinch. The creature's limbs are pulled in tight and its ability to move is immediately debilitated.

Henri tugs the creature towards him and punches the metal man’s neck until its head comes off clean. He tosses the head into the ocean. The rest of the body squirms under the strips of cloth.

“It’s not human you idiot!” Eliza shouts “Go for a leg or something!”

Hara laughs.

Henri widens his stance and swings the strips, unravelling the creature off the ship. They watch it spin in the air then crash into the sea.

More crushing sounds. An army of coloured creatures are beginning to morph alive.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” says Jackson from Sky Company, as the rest of the inactive assignees get comfortable, lounging around the railing.

Victor puts a finger up to consider it. “I will let you know,” he tells them, before jumping off the platform.

Hara, Eliza and Victor all join Henri on the battlefield. Together, they are ruthless.

Victor kicks and punches with incredible strength. Eliza zips around, slicing with nothing but her bare palms. Forrest watches as she dismembers a leg, then tosses the rest into the ocean, while Hara’s moving so fast that he can barely keep up.

Her attacks, even with no dodges, launch the metal beings into the water like golf balls off a tee.

BANG!

Eliza’s hit. She stumbles back a little. Oh no!

He glances at Win and—huh? He’s holding the paddle up already. Win actually wants to fight? Right now?

Victor whips his head back from the battlefield.

“H-hold on a sec Win, I’ll get you out here soon just give us a few more minutes,” he shouts.

Win clicks his tongue. He drops the paddle to his side, arm swinging.

The ship is moving, Forrest begins to notice. He looks over to the beach to realise it’s further away than before. They’re moving across the sea.

“Is this Creation or Subjection?” he hears Rain ask.

“It’s Subjection,” answers Adi.

“But Henri said they were minions, that’s a Creation technique, no?”

“Henri’s wrong. They’re not minions. The containers aren’t made of Will, they’re being shaped by Rich’s Concept.”

“Oh. Is that so?”

“Ask Maeven when she’s awake.”

Behind them, Gunner is smoking a cigarette with his head tilted back. Callum is watching the fight with his arms over his knees. No one else seems to be worried. He shouldn’t be either, right? The Users have a handle on things. Soon enough they’ll be back on the beach like nothing ever happened.

Meanwhile, the battlefield is shrinking. The containers now starkly misaligned as they rapidly morph into the metal men.

But what if we’re stuck in the middle of the ocean?

A hand smacks onto the platform, gripping it tight. It’s Eliza, hauling herself over the railing. She sits on the platform with her leg dangling over the metal, gripping the back of her thigh. Blood is seeping through the fabric of her pants. “Rain!” she calls.

The medic rushes over. “Fucker got behind me,” Eliza says.

“My, that’s a deep cut. Lay down please, Eliza. Keep Optimising.” Says Rain.

Before complying, Eliza flicks a bloodied hand at Win.

“Go,” she says.

A mere second goes by and Win places the paddle in her palm. A purple light saturates around his body. Forrest finds himself opening his mouth, with no words to illuminate his reaction. He watches as the Ocean assignee runs down the steps, onward to the battleground.