Remy Cruces had an affinity with rebellion.
He had picked it up in his younger days.
Star Wars had been his first exposure to the age old tale of revolution against tyranny.
The Rebels called to him. The Empire disgusted and scared him.
Imagine his surprise when he had learned many years later that America was the Empire and the Rebels were the Viet Cong. Straight from the mouth of the man who had created the classic movies.
They hadn’t taught him that at at school at all.
History class was all about how America fought valiantly to save South Vietnam and the world from Evil Communism.
He hadn’t known at the time, but his own people had their own rebellions further back.
First against the Spanish, then against America.
The Katipunan, his ancestor’s rebellion.
They beat the Spanish, had them on the ropes, pinned in Manila.
Then the cowards struck a deal with America.
A farcical battle so the Spanish could save face. History would record that they lost, not to a rag tag bunch of ‘brown’ people, but to a rising imperial power.
Just like that the backstab had been completed.
America could join the imperialist playground.
Sure it took a few more years and a few hundred thousand dead Filipinos, but hey, that was the price of an uprising.
He hadn’t learned any of that in kids school.
What the history books had amounted to half a page and it focused on the Spanish-American War. The Philippines was portrayed as a side character of sorts. The entire thing was framed as America helping out their ‘little brown brothers’.
He learned the real history in college.
The classes were more truthful and accurate, but even then he had to work to find the primary sources. The writings of those directly involved in the massacres.
History always repeated itself.
Mai Lai.
Samar.
They hide the truth. When that fails they change the narrative. Obfuscate the numbers.
But the primary sources showed him.
Orders to kill any male over the age of ten.
Sure, the general behind that was eventually court-martialed, but what was his punishment?
Retirement.
Thousands of people murdered.
Children killed.
Rapes.
All things that came with war.
So, yeah, Remy had always been about the rebellion. Even if it fell to the back of his mind after college.
He got married.
Had two beautiful daughters.
He had to provide for his family.
It was the most important thing in his life.
Things would’ve continued along that path to his happiness and satisfaction had the spires not appeared.
Shit happened. Piles of heaping, steaming shit, until he found himself with his wife on another world, deep underground leading a rebellion.
The Molens against Stone Lords.
It had been that same history writ on a different world.
Victory and he and his wife were finally back home.
His daughters were supposed to be back soon as well.
Part of him wanted it to go back to how it was before the spires, but he wasn’t an idiot.
Thus, he stood on the side of rebellion.
Even if this one was stupid and reckless.
Young men and women, some technically kids, huddled together in the basement of the hospital.
They were armed and armored with a variety of mismatched gear.
It really did remind of him of all those ragtag bands of rebels in history and fiction.
They glared at him, but did nothing else.
A few had taken shots when he had walked into the room, but he sent the bullets right back between their eyes.
Just hard enough to sting.
The lesson stuck.
Upstairs the leaders of the small town community were in desperate conversation with the American soldiers poised to hit the place with artillery from a few miles away.
He listened in to the phone conversation.
One might ask how?
Instinct.
Rather, he could see, hear and feel the radio frequency waves of the phones.
It was like he was listening in on the other line back when he was a snooping little kid and phones still had physical lines.
The thought reminded him that he was old.
At least he didn’t look it, he supposed.
“There are innocent people here,” the mayor said. “This is an emergency shelter. And that’s not even counting the patients. For fuck’s sake! We have five newborns in the nursery!”
“Then send out the terrorists,” the military commander said.
“What terrorists?”
“Please don’t waste my time. I’m being reasonable in giving you the warning and the chance to do what’s right for your country and your people.”
“You haven’t provided any proof.”
“That will be taken care of in the courts. I promise. They’ll be tried fairly and punished.”
Remy kept one ear on the conversation.
His older brother was waiting to see how it played out before intervening on the other end.
He was here to make sure the stupid young people and kids didn’t decide to go stupider.
“Is it true?”
“What?” the leader of the rebellion scowled. She was tall for a girl, standing eye to eye with him. A thin scar cut down the left side of her face. From brow to jaw, across her eye and the corner of her mouth.
“Did you burn sleeping soldiers?”
She tightened her grip on her shotgun.
“Yeah, we did.”
He sighed.
“That’s straight murder.”
“They deserve it!” she snapped.
“I’m listening.”
She regarded him for a long moment before suddenly launching into an impassioned tirade.
Tales of soldiers stealing their food, medicine and anything else of value. Items they had gotten for free, mysteriously appearing on their doorsteps or backyard. Soldiers slapping cuffs on people for the slightest offense or for something made up on the spot. Said people were trucked out of town never to be seen or heard from again. Soldiers forcing them to work for the new owners of the grocery stores for a pittance. They worked long hours and couldn’t even afford more than a meal a day thanks to said owners raising prices to ridiculous levels. Beatings. Rapes.
The young woman sounded credible.
Cal would find the truth if he hadn’t already.
According to Cal this town had been more reluctant than most to rejoin the old government.
It made sense that they would be treated much worse than those who rejoined willing and with enthusiasm.
He wondered if the military garrison here was emboldened by the distance from D.C.
Stress had to be high with the Bountiful Decade.
The air outside the town’s boundary stank of decaying monster corpses, while the air inside stank of burned monster corpses.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m not telling you that!”
“Yeah, he might be a witch!” a high-pitched voice emerged from somewhere within the milling young people.
“That’s fair.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Well, young lady, you are very stupid.”
Weapons rose, then dropped when he raised a brow.
“Okay, I’ll revise that, you’re still stupid, but not that stupid.”
“Why don’t you go out there and do your bullet trick with the people that really deserve it?”
He ignored her question.
“You burned soldiers in their sleep. Did each one commit crimes against you? And were those crimes burn worthy? Now, a rapist? Sure, bonfire away. But what about the ones like you? Young and stupid. Maybe they had no choice. Drafted. Have to follow orders. Didn’t beat up anyone. Didn’t disappear anyone. Didn’t rape anyone. Does that person deserve to burn in his bed?”
“No, but you’re being unrealistic. Obviously, if we had the capability we’d only go after the real shitfaces. Besides, they all made the choice to sign up with the evil assholes.”
“That’s not how conscription works.”
“They can say ‘no’. Run away. Don’t follow orders.”
“And face punishment? I heard that in the early days of the spires, they shot people that refused to fight.”
“That sounds like a stupid waste of a bullet.”
“I agree.”
“Then why’re you lecturing me like you’re my dad?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No.” He cleared his throat. “Alright, putting all that aside… you came here to hide.”
Her dagger gaze went to the floor.
He struck a blow and he wasn’t inclined to go easy on them.
“You’re endangering innocent people. If you knew how bad those soldiers are then you should’ve known that they wouldn’t care about the five cute newborns upstairs. Nor the old and sick people in their rooms. Let alone the bulk of your fellow townsfolk. You knew this hospital is the designated emergency shelter. You knew that everyone would come here when the soldiers started looking for blood. Do you even know how many people didn’t make it? How many died in their beds or in the streets with a bullet in the back of their the heads? I can give you their names. Maybe you know them.” He regarded the other young people, grabbing them with the force of his gaze. “Friends, family. They died violent deaths because of your actions.”
The young leader kept her eyes on the floor. The shotgun hung loose in her hands. It was as if she had suddenly lost strength.
“Violence always creates more violence. The movies you watch don’t really convey that well. Too messy. Not clean enough for popular consumption. There has to be a good guy and a bad guy. It makes sense, they are an escape from reality after all.”
“So, if we surrender, will they leave everyone else alone?”
“Probably not. It’s a standard tactic. Say terrorists are in the building, then bomb away. They would’ve already done it, but you have a couple of things that rebels in history lacked.”
“You?”
“No. I’m not here for you. I’m here for the babies and the oldies. But, yeah, we’re working on a just outcome.”
----------------------------------------
Cal stood over the shoulder of the captain.
The gray-haired man was on the phone with the small town mayor back at the hospital.
Officers bustled around the command center, which was in a small motel at the eastern edge of town.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Artillery pieces had already been turned around.
He stood unnoticed.
Whenever a soldier would’ve bumped into him they unconsciously stepped around.
“Just have the terrorists exit your hospital, walk east down Main Street and surrender to my men.”
The captain’s voice was cold, flat. He didn’t actually care one way or another about anyone else in the hospital. He didn’t care all that much about the burned soldiers as individual people. He cared about the impact on his operations. He cared about the impact on his reputation. He was too old to still be a captain. Even with the reorganization into one combined armed force.
What that captain didn’t understand was that he’d never advance until he fully-embraced the changes brought on by the spires. Skills, spells and powers. He didn’t like them. Didn’t fully understand despite the fact that he had a class and Skills himself. He clashed with the tactics set by his commanders. He still fought based on the tactics he had learned in the pre-spires modern era, failing to utilize what the spires brought to their maximum potential.
“I need a guarantee that you won’t just shoot them.” The mayor sounded desperate over the phone.
Cal reached out to gauge what was going through her and the townspeople’s heads.
It was a powder keg.
The defunct US Government soldiers had not been good guests.
They had conscripted the town’s best fighters and sent them to the most dangerous hot spots threatening their more important cities and holding. Then they used the excuse that they were owed whatever they wanted because they were defending the town from the monsters.
Ownership of stores vital to the townspeople was forcibly taken from them and handed over to rich, old men who came and went. Prices went up overnight. They couldn’t afford food and other necessary supplies.
They were forced to work in said stores for a pittance. They still couldn’t afford to buy the elements of a proper existence.
Naturally, morale declined.
People refused to work.
They used what Universal Points they had managed to save over the years to buy their supplies from the spires marketplace.
It had turned into a dire game of hide the pirate treasure.
Townspeople hid what they rightfully owned, while soldiers searched for them.
Beatings hadn’t improve morale.
Townspeople started being arrested for the most spurious of reasons.
They vanished too, taken to die elsewhere as meat shields.
The rapes didn’t improve moral either.
The captain saw all of this as a natural consequence of the town’s less than enthusiastic participation in Rightful Destiny. They were ingrates. And now they were traitors.
Cal remembered meeting with the town’s leaders about a year and a half ago at around the same time the defunct government came calling.
They had refused his offer of protection.
They didn’t trust that he wouldn’t put strings on them.
A brown-skinned man flying into town had been too much for them.
When they compared him to soldiers wearing the good, old red white and blue it had been the lesser of two bad options for them.
So, he had no choice but to respect their decision.
“You now have ten minutes to comply. Failure to do so will be a violation of the law. Those that harbor terrorists are no different. It is in my authority to designate all of you enemy combatants.” The captain terminated the call.
Cal laid a hand on his shoulder.
They jumped.
Guns came out of holsters.
A hidden rogue-type lunged out of a tiny patch of shadow with a black-bladed knife.
Guns went back into their holsters.
Knife went into its sheath.
The soldiers stood motionless with their mouths slack, drool trickling down their chins.
“Let’s renegotiate.”
The captain tried to draw his pistol. When that didn’t work he drew a knife and slashed at Cal’s fingers.
Sharp steel left no marks.
The captain wasn’t a complete idiot, so he dropped the knife and tried his pistol again.
Okay… he was a bit of an idiot.
Cal’s grip was as unyielding as the metaphorical stick up the captain’s butt.
The man had carried that and the chip on his shoulder since high school when his girlfriend had dumped him for the quarterback. The half-Mexican quarterback.
In some ways that event had done more to shape the trajectory of his life than any other.
An inaccurate racial slur was on the tip of the captain’s tongue when he decided to keep it to himself for some strange reason.
“I’ve already finished my investigation. Fifteen soldiers were burned to death. I found three deserving, rapists that they were. Another seven were guilty of lesser crimes. Theft, assault, battery. The remainder were only guilty of following orders.”
He let it sink in.
The captain responded predictably.
“You speak with a lot of conviction for a liar. My men did nothing.”
“And women.”
The captain frowned.
“You have women in your little battalion. Four were in that house. Still trying to pretend they’re not around?”
“What did you do to them?” The captain pointed at his motionless soldiers.
“Did I do anything? I don’t think I did. Weird, huh? Well, those were the crimes. They weren’t the only ones doing bad stuff, right? You know it for a fact because you turn a blind eye to it. Even encourage the heavy-handedness. So, in my eyes that makes you responsible. I could list every crime your soldiers committed.”
“They didn’t do anything wrong. This is war. This town refused to return to where they belong. That made them potential enemies. If they wanted the protections of the laws, then they should’ve been smart.”
“But… I don’t understand? They did do exactly that… eventually. Regardless, even if I concede that point. There are international rules governing the conduct of warfare. Geneva Conventions and so on and so forth.”
The captain’s surface thoughts revealed his views on that.
It was rather simplistic.
Whoever had the biggest stick made the rules.
Since America was the biggest, baddest nation in the history of the world, they could do whatever they wanted.
“Okay, I did lie. We’re not really renegotiating.”
Cal manhandled the much taller man from his chair and over to the wall where a map of the town and surrounding area hung.
A small river ran north to south to the east.
There was one main bridge that led straight to the main street that bisected the town.
East of the bridge was an overgrown forest from which the bulk of the monster attacks came.
The townspeople and the soldiers had burned a wide swathe of forest to deny the monsters cover on the approached.
The other three sides of the town were surrounded by wide open plains.
“I need you to forget about the town’s freedom fighters.”
“Terrorists.” The veins in the captain’s neck bulged.
“One man’s terrorist is another man’s… you know the saying. Forget about them. They’re out of your hands. As is this town. Assuming the people decide to kick you out after this. Please look at the map.”
The bulk of the soldiers were concentrated around the motel. They had created a fortified position to house their artillery by building walls and barricades out of old, rusted vehicles, trees cut out of the forest and prefabricated barriers. The artillery had the added protection of magic shield generators. The units were huge, bulky things. Ugly and lacking the sleek aesthetics of what Jake and Hillary’s crew produced.
“The next wave of monsters is going to hit in about two hours.”
“That’s—”
“Too soon? Since when was any of this predictable. Sometimes I wonder if bad luck is actually the spires taking advantage of situations to further its purpose. They burned your soldiers. You went for revenge. Killed the ones that couldn’t make it to their shelter quick enough. You turned your artillery around. Bared your backs to the real threat. If I wanted as much violent conflict as possible, now would be the perfect time. You fight the town. The town fights you. Then the monsters come in. Triple threat match-style. You get it, right? Am I speaking in a way you understand?”
“Release me and my men. We’ll deal with the monsters first.”
“Then the town? Yeah, no. You’ll fight the monsters. That’s for sure. After that you’ll leave.” He took a marker and circled the eastern edge of the town along with the bridge and the smoking forest on the other side. “You and your soldiers are responsible for this area. Others will cover the north, west and south sides. You will be reinforced as necessary. I hope it’s obvious that I don’t have to warn you of deadly reprisal for friendly fire incidents?”
“Obviously.”
“Now, for a bit of housekeeping business. The townspeople you’ve ‘drafted’. They will be returned. It makes sense, right? Since they’ll be needed to defend this place.” He made a show of looking around the room until with a snap of his fingers he released a young man from his mental prison. Well, less a prison and more a timeout. No time had passed for the young man. “Hey, you?” He beckoned.
The young man blinked then wiped his chin.
“What?”
“You’re in charge of keeping records. I need your lists. The townspeople you shipped out to die elsewhere. Names, descriptions, pictures and locations. I need to bring them back.”
The young man nodded and dashed off.
“You won’t be hard on him later.”
His words became a command the captain would obey without realization.
“Let’s go outside and meet your reinforcements.”
He guided the captain out to the parking lot with a firm, but gentle hand.
The night sky was dark thanks to the added smoke from the burn.
The town itself didn’t help.
Electricity came solely from a number of diesel generators and the small hydroelectric turbine some clever minds and hands had managed to build.
Only a handful of buildings had lights.
The hospital was one.
The stores that required refrigeration made up the rest.
The homes all ran on generators. They were all dark since most of the people were in the hospital or still hiding from the once-marauding soldiers.
Cal killed a few monsters that had slipped in or out from hiding before they could pounce on the slack-jawed soldiers.
The captain glanced at him.
“You’re fucking insane. There’s nothing out here. Why are staring at the sky? Is this a cult thing? Meat Parade? Are you even human?”
Cal held up a finger. “Hang on a sec. I’m letting them know.”
Spotlights suddenly shined down from above, cutting through the smoke and darkness.
The captain beheld a huge shape descending. He joined his soldiers in that slack-jawed state.
Cal relinquished his hold.
“I want to make something clear. She’s more than capable of killing all of you in seconds. So, watch that friendly fire.”
With that he vanished from the captain’s notice.
The words and experience would remain, but his face and the sound of his voice disappeared from the man’s memory, no matter how hard he would try to recall them.
He flew straight to the hospital and cut through the noise to deliver judgment and an offer.
The mayor was more inclined to accept his offer this time, though he generously allowed her time to discuss with the rest of the town.
He didn’t withhold aid in the mean time as leverage.
Only terrible people saw a life and death situation as way to extract as much value from others as possible.
The town would be protected while he collected their stolen people or returned their bodies for burial if possible. If not he promised to bring word of their ultimate fates.
As for the young freedom fighters or terrorists, depending on perspective?
They had murdered twelve soldiers that didn’t deserve it. Three that did.
He didn’t want to be the final arbiter.
They had legitimate grievances.
Then again, so did the burned soldiers’ families.
Where did one draw the line?
He definitely didn’t want to be the one drawing it.
Did he judge it on the amount of harm caused?
For even the worst of the soldiers had people that relied on them elsewhere.
The old government was a lot stingier with the death benefits nowadays.
Perhaps, he could extend offers to said families, assuming they met the low bar for immigration. If not then he decided to give them Universal Points. An amount that was equivalent to what was taken from their future. Enough that their lives wouldn’t be ruined in the aftermath. There were too many others waiting in the wings to take advantage of the desperate. That ranged in banal evil, like people looking to trade sexual favors for supplies, to darker things that whispered promises of power.
Yes.
Reparations seemed fitting.
Those responsible would pay a portion of their points for a predetermined amount of time.
If he wasn’t going to put them in prison for 20 years to life, then they would pay points for the same amount of time.
He laid it all out for the mayor and the young rebels.
They weren’t really in a position to disagree.
Thus, they would defend their town and hope.
Cal floated up to the roof with his younger brother.
“Tough situation,” Remy said.
“It was that or turn them over to the old government.”
“Yeah. A quick trial and a long drop.”
“If they’re lucky. Most likely they would’ve been tortured and raped for a long time before being executed. Anyone with a valuable class would’ve been conscripted for those suicide quests. The pretty ones would’ve ended up on some disgusting old man’s ‘staff’ or in one of the brothels.”
“You’d get them out. Like you do now.”
“Sure, eventually, but it might take days, week or months. Time in which they’d suffer.”
“Some would say it’d be deserved. Burning people alive is a big deal. Even if I’m personally sympathetic.”
“Only three of them deserved it.”
Remy let out a long whistle. “That’s a terrible percentage.”
“Well seven were also scumbags.”
“Just not burn worthy?”
“No.”
“So, that means five were innocent.”
“Worst they did was follow orders.”
“That doesn’t cut it though.”
“Still, it’s not like they have a real choice. I can’t go to every person and bring them over.”
“Regime change?”
“I don’t want to be responsible for millions of people even more than I already am. Too busy working on the big stuff. Tessa ran an empire for awhile. Would she be interested?”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
“Who says I was joking?”
“She didn’t really run it. She was more of a figurehead and a keep them from backsliding influence.”
“I’m not seeing a huge difference in our current situation.”
“You can ask her when she gets here. She’ll say no.”
“What about you then?”
“No.”
“C’mon, you toppled a tyrannical government.”
“It was different when it was Molens and Stone Lords. I could disassociate in a way I can’t with people that look like me.”
“Megan?”
“Ha! I’ll ask for you.”
“The problem is that the entire power structure is the same. New government still runs on the same principles as the old one. The people that want to be in charge are the exact greedy, moral vacuum-less people that shouldn’t be in charge.”
“Power corrupts. Although, I prefer ‘power reveals’. But, yeah, I agree. The people that’d do a good job in charge wouldn’t take the job in the first place. So, why not put the least evil ones in charge and keep an eye on them?”
“It’s a God damn headache, but it might just come to that.”
“I don’t know how or why, but it turned out good in Sacramento and SoCal.”
“That’s cause of our presences. The shit couldn’t rise to the top of the bowl.”
“Terrible analogy. But, I think that’s your answer.”
“I’ll start exploring options while I’m flying around their territories.”
“And I will head out to one of these danger zones.”
“You should at least grab a helmet or even just a tablet.”
“Why? They’d just end up destroyed. It’s all just signals flying around the planet’s fields. To and from your satellites. I can get the information without a device.”
“It’s not about that. It’s about keeping your capabilities obscured from others as much as you can. Plus, people get freaked out when you tap in and send messages without an actual device.”
Remy shrugged. “I say it’s me.”
“Yeah, but that’s what a cybermonster would say.”
“Those don’t exist.”
“Yet.”
“Well, yeah, if everyone keeps thinking about them they’ll manifest one. That’s what the spires does.”
“Well, it would help, obviously, if you didn’t add to the potential.”
“You just want me to be a part of your Omninet.”
“It’s useful to our efforts.”
“Why even make a new Internet when the infrastructure of the old one is still there.”
“It’s better.”
“Sure and a little presumptuous. ‘Omni’…”
“It’s descriptive.”
“Bit too close to ‘god’, don’t you think?”
“Low blow, bro. Aren’t you the one telling me to overthrow Old America?”
“That’s not even remotely the same.”
“Whatever, man. I’ve got a list of people to track down. Don’t die out there.”
“Same to you.”
The two brothers went their separate ways.