Tale of the Reader Pt. 3
A first time visitor to New DC would be shocked. There would be two reasons for this amazement. Reason number one is that the city is absolutely huge. It supports over 100,000 people, which may not sound like many, but for a post-War city it is almost unheard of.
Reason number two would be the Wall. The Wall is a 40 foot tall, 20 foot thick, steel-polymer resin reinforced metal barrier that surrounds the entire city. It has countless automated and man-operated anti-personnel weapons, along with roughly a hundred anti-armor weapons placed evenly around the entire city. A number of computer-controlled anti-air weapons are placed just inside the Wall, and provide protection from anything up to a nuke (never been tested, thankfully). The city itself is a patchwork quilt of buildings, some new, gleaming steel structures, and some old, faded pre-War buildings. In the 30 years it has existed, the city has grown so much so that there is talk of expanding the Wall. Which is kind of ironic considering that the original construction was thought to be too big. Anyway, there are two ways to get in and out of the city by foot or vehicle. The first is the Gate. It is, as the name suggests, a giant gate. It serves as the main entrance and exit for traffic coming to and from the city. The second way is the LG, or Little Gate. Put in as an afterthought, the LG is a much smaller version of the Gate that was originally designed as a way to get VIPs into the city without a major hassle. It is hardly ever used, because, understandably, no one really wants to make a road trip through the Wasteland when they can just fly in. To my surprise we were approaching the LG.
"Hey, what gives?" I asked a Defense Force private sitting beside me.
The private, a fox-morph, jumped, and I sensed a wave of surprise and a little fear come off of him. Fear? Why the hell is he scared? He answered my question before I thought to gently probe his mind. "Um, it's decontamination procedures, sir. I'm sorry if I jumped, I just, well, wasn't expecting you to talk to me."
"Two things. One, why the decontamination? And two, why didn't you expect me to talk?"
He shot me a nervous glance before answering. "Um, about two weeks ago a border-town was almost completely wiped out by some mutant form of influenza. The, uh, reason I was surprised that you talked to me was I've, er, heard some stories about you, sir. Are you really a psychic?"
I sighed. Somehow, despite my best efforts, rumors of me abound throughout the ANC, and most of which are greatly exaggerated.
"You thought I would just dig into your mind, right? That I would sense all your deepest, darkest thoughts and desires? That I would just bend you to my will and rip any knowledge I needed from your mind while leaving you a blubbering idiot? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I only do that kind of stuff when I have to. I guess you could say I'm an ethical psychic. Plus, whenever I use my powers for anything more than sensing the basic thoughts and emotions of someone, I get an awful headache."
"Oh, sorry." I could feel a wave of embarrassment roll off of him.
I grinned and clapped my hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, happens all the time. Just don't believe everything you hear, alright?"
He let out a small grin. "Alright."
The truck pulled to a stop outside the gate, a huge, gleaming steel obstruction that looked almost like a portcullis from from some ancient castle. A small group of people in haz-mat suits came out of a side door, carrying some kind of scanning equipment. They set it up around the truck, and a green light surrounded the truck for a moment.
"You're clear, although we detected some strange...organic...matter?" The suited figure's voice trailed off as he, no wait, she looked at me. I grinned at her, and raised a Reaver-slime encrusted hand.
"Ah. That explains it. Okay, you're clear to enter." And with that the suited figure waved up at the right guard tower. The gate smoothly slid open, and as the truck went through I caught a thought from the suited figure. *Was that a human? I thought they were extinct..?*
I inwardly sighed. I was almost used to being thought a freak, but it still bugged me that people were constantly surprised to see a real live human. Ah, well. The truck pulled up to the barracks closest to the LG, a small, almost insignificant looking bunker. The driver yelled, "Everyone off!"
My squad and the DF unit jumped out of the bed, and the driver revved the engine and took off down the street. I looked questioningly at the private; I saw is name was...Jenkins? Huh.
He shrugged, and then said. "Okay, you guys are scheduled to debrief tomorrow, so for the rest of today and tonight you are free to do as you wish. Just make sure to get back here by noon tomorrow."
Nadia let out a "Yes!!!" while Simon and Jarvis merely smiled. I was almost as happy as Nadia was, and I planned to enjoy my brief R&R---right after a shower.
After taking my leave from my squad I caught a cab (the driver giving me the stink eye the entire way) to my apartment. Yes, cabs still exist, along with the horrendous fees they charge. Anyway, since my squad is based out of New DC, I decided to fuck with it and took a long term lease out on an apartment about 2 years ago. I have a standing arrangement with my landlord, a short, stubby, greedy little sumbitch, that if I don't show up for more than 2 months he can assume I'm dead and clear out the apartment. I always catch a brief flash of disappointment from him whenever I show up, carefully hidden behind a big smile (he doesn't know I'm psychic, the little prick). After paying the driver the normal outrageous fee (A little side note. Money is thought to be one of the primary causes of the War. Something to do with one currency being worth more than another and some nation getting pissed, so in today's society money is measured in credits. This is worldwide, except for in some of the more primitive parts of the LAA, where the primary method of exchange is barter.) I ran up the rusty stairs of the squat, two-story pre-War building. I believe it was actually a hotel of sorts back then, but the rooms are actually more like suites. Anyway, I got to my door, opened it with my keycard, and was happy to see that my landlord hadn't gotten overzealous and cleared it out in my absence. He did that once before, and I still haven't gotten back my old dark green sofa that I had been lucky enough to find just outside the city. Bastard.
I went in, and with a final glance around, I rushed toward the shower. Twenty minutes later and feeling a whole lot better, I got out and was drying myself off when I heard the doorbell ring. I wrapped a towel around my waist and grabbed my .357 off the in-table next to the door (never hurts to be cautious) before looking through the peephole. What the hell?
I opened the door, and saw Nadia. A completely different Nadia. Dressed in a long, form-hugging dark red dress, fashionable but still casual, with her blond hair cascading down her back, and with her luxurious white fur freshly cleaned, she was something straight out of a very good dream. I stood there gaping for a second, before she cleared her throat.
"Well, are you just going to stand there like an idiot or invite me in?"
I mentally shook my head (hah, mentally) and said in a surprised voice, "Uh, sure. Come on in."
I stood aside and she brushed by me, sending a little thrill through me where she touched. I actually shook my head this time, brushing those thoughts out of my mind, and then turned around toward her.
"Um, just make yourself at home. I'll be with you in just a sec." I turned and rushed down the hall to my room, threw on some clothes; a pair of well-used jeans and a black t-shirt. I ran a comb through my hair while thinking about how I needed to get it cut and came out the door to see her admiring the object that hung across most of the living room's wall. An authentic Scottish claymore that I had found almost perfectly preserved in the ruins of an old, pre-War museum. It is my pride and joy, the one thing I scavenged in the Wasteland that I chose to keep from the museum. (WSR units are more mercenaries than actual military forces. We get paid the same amount as a Special Forces trooper, but we get to keep 10% of whatever we find out in the Wasteland.)
Nadia turned toward me and gave me a grin. "I didn't know you still had this monster."
I grinned back at her and said, "Well, it does make one hell of a wall decoration, doesn't it?"
"Yeah." There was an awkward silence during which I attempted a small probe of her mind. To my surprise it was even more chaotic than usual, though I did catch a couple of strands of nervousness and a little embarrassment. Nervous? Nadia, the person who could actually juggle vials of nitroglycerin without setting them off, was nervous? (I saw her do it once. Scared the living hell out of me.)
"So, um, can I get you anything to drink? Or something?" I added a little lamely.
She shook her head, "Um, actually, I was wondering, um, ah to hell with it. You hungry?"
"Uh, sure." I saw her face light up a little bit, which weirdly enough raised my own spirits.
"Ok, let's go then. I know this good place a couple of blocks from here." And with that she walked toward the door. A little surprised at her forwardness, I grabbed my gun belt (Side arms were allowed within city limits, but anything heavier you had to have a permit for. Good law in a time when most people would never carry anything less than a pistol, and most small-caliber bullet or laser wounds could be easily healed, unless someone was shot in, say, the head. The ANC has a somewhat looser policy towards personal firearms than the other countries. In the LAA, only the members of the government's militia are allowed to carry weapons, and in the PEAF most people simply don't bother to, due to the advanced power of their cities defenses.) I threw on a pair of shoes, human shoes, I may add (I have to get mine custom made, which is a real pain.) and ran out after her.
As we walked, she kept glancing nervously at me; her thoughts still a chaotic vortex. The streets at this hour were virtually deserted, except for the occasional car or truck, so it had to be me she was looking at. Finally, I stopped, and, trying not to stare as the fading sun caught on her hair, looked at her.
"Ok, do you have something you want to ask me or what?" She nervously looked at me, and I caught the question a split second before she asked it.
"Um, I was wondering. Just how, I mean, what can you actually hear inside someone's head?"
I shook my head and started walking again. She started after me with a confused expression on her face.
"Well," I began, "It really has to do with how hard I try and who it is. Take you for example. Your thoughts, no offense intended, are utterly chaotic. I can barely get a surface reading of what you are thinking about when I just passively listen, and if I tried to actually read your mind, I probably would be even more confused. Some people are like you, but most aren't. Most people I can pretty easily read, and for some people, like Jarvis, I barely even have to try to decipher their thoughts, because they think very literally. You following me so far?"
She nodded, a look of intense interest on her face, "But what about how people feel? You know, emotions and stuff?"
I shrugged, "Well, most emotions are pretty straightforward. Things like surprise tend to come off people like waves, while emotions like jealousy or envy are often like, well, sort of spears, if that makes any sense. Sharp, short jabs. Anger is kind-of both, except there are varying degrees of it. Things like love or affection I usually sense as, weird as it may sound, waves of heat. Some emotions are subconscious. They are a lot harder to sense, but if I try hard enough, I can usually pick out most of the undertones... Why are you looking at me like that?"
She had stopped suddenly and was looking at me with suspicion evident on her face, and I caught a flare of dull anger and...hurt? coming from her.
"So, I'm just unreadable am I? Just too fucked up to read, huh? Well, what the fuck ever!" She turned and started to walk away. A little shocked at her sudden change, I hesitated a second before hurrying to catch up.
I grabbed her arm, and an instant before I realized it was a bad idea, I was lying on the ground looking up at the twilight star-filled sky wondering what the hell happened. I braced myself up on my elbows, and she started over to where I was lying with a distressed look on her face. I caught a flash of horror, just before my pre-cog kicked in and I noticed the truck barreling towards me. With no choice other than getting squashed, I took a deep, sharp breath before grabbing myself mentally and throwing myself to the side an instant before the truck raced over the spot where I had been lying. Through a sharp, blindingly sudden pain, I noticed that the asshole in the truck hadn't even seen me. I was clutching my head, which felt like it was about to explode, when Nadia raced over and knelt by my side, throwing her arms around me and mumbling something about being sorry. None of the other passerby had even noticed my near-death experience, and a couple gave us a strange look as they passed.
The pain in my head lessening, I gently pried Nadia off of me and slowly stood up, her right next to me ready to lend a hand if needed. I slowly turned toward her, the pain in my head lessening already, before saying, "Now, if you would be so kind as to tell me why the hell you threw me into the street, I would be eternally grateful."
She looked at me a second before bursting into tears and hugging me around the waist. A little surprised, I carefully put my arms around her as she cried into my shoulder. The few pedestrians left on the street turned and looked curiously before I sent them on their way with a brief mental nudge. When she finally stopped sobbing, Nadia turned away and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. I gently put my hand on her shoulder, and turned her around.
"Now, what was that all about?" I said in a calm voice. She looked at me with her red-rimmed eyes and shook her head, her thoughts even more flustered than before. I gently grabbed her around the waist and drew her close. As she looked up at me in surprise I brought my head down and slowly kissed her on her warm, sweet lips. I caught a flash of surprise roll off of her before we both fell into the depths of the kiss, standing there as the fading sun finally set behind us...
.....
"Sir, the strike forces are ready."
The dim room was lit only by the soft glow from the three rows of terminals, facing a large world map displayed on the room's far wall. All of the technology present looked well maintained, but had a faded look only time could cast. The world map had three pulsating red dots; one in North America, one in South America, and one in Europe. The person to whom the message was directed at sat in a high, ornate chair in the back of the room. His white uniform seemed to glow in the dull light, and the four golden stars he had on each shoulder glistened. At the words of the messenger he straightened up in his chair, seeming to change from a benevolent figure to one that hinted at madness. He leaned forward eagerly, and spoke.
"Good. Now, at long last, we can finally reveal ourselves to the world. Begin the attack. Crush these pathetic creatures."
The man in the dark blue uniform saluted. "Yes sir. For the Legion."
The white-uniformed man returned the salute. "For the Legion..."