October Surprise

"Oy choi, show me your tongue!" That's what you got to say to a suspected serp. They can't hide their forked tongues even if they've gotten better at copying just about everything else.

Ask anyone, and they'll tell you. I mean, it was all over the feeds, this little old man, he could've been anybody's Grandpa, except he was living under a stolen ID and preying on small critters near a school zone. But luckily some Final Front guys caught him, and when they backed him into a corner, out came that freaky serp tongue.

And that's just one example. Who knows how many more are living among us. But we're not going to sit idly by and let it happen. Sometimes all it takes is a few good men to make a difference.

That's why I answered the private invite on my holo.

Want to do something about the serps? That flashed once then gave the when and where before the letters scrambled and dissolved. It was fast, like three seconds, probably to test our memories and observational skills.

We're meeting at the shuttered Lindbergh library in a part of south-side Apex that hugs the wall along the Stretch, and I get there way before sundown to show them I know how to do recon.

I'm wearing my urban camo and blending in with a piece of plasteel that hasn't been added to the wall yet. I count four guys go in to the alley behind the library. Not a one sees me, but I'm not following until it's time because I'm precise that way.

"Oy choi!" Some guy I didn’t see go in sticks his head out the alleyway. His head is like a krete block with two slits, and those slits are looking right at me.

I stiffen because maybe he's going to disrespect me and ask to see my tongue, but he just jerks his big head to tell me to get moving.

In the alley, he rolls aside a dumpster to reveal a hole. I see his black shirt and the crossed hammers over stars and bars on his forearm. That means he's Final Front, so I know I can trust him.

We walk down to the library basement where floodlights and empty shelves line the wall. The four other guys are down there plus two Final Front guardsmen and some cyberpunk chick fiddling with a gunmetal box on a fold-out table.

When they jam our feeds and make us hand over our holos, I know this is some Alpha Code Red shit and we're in it for real. Outstanding.

The guy with the big head kicks aside some books that got burned after everyone realized the feeds were better, then stands in front of us. Everyone straightens up without being told.

"You can call me Sergeant Bill, but don't you dare call me sir," he says, kind of cool and strict at the same time. "Now, you may not know us personally, but we know you. Every one of you has been carefully selected, but if you don't agree, if you have any doubts, then there's the door… No? Then let's begin.

"You men have been selected to infiltrate the serps and reveal the enemy within."

My heart hammers in my ears then skips a beat when Sergeant Bill says the mission pays double time with a bonus for each serp we expose.

Wow choi, I mean, I'd do it for free because I love Apex City, but the double-time pay with bonuses is how I know Chancellor Ike must have our back on this mission. He's generous and understands the working man like that.

It's like Chancellor Ike's in this basement with us, but we can't say his name. I mean, we can, but no one does out of respect. He's already doing so much while the weepsters and serp-deniers attack him from all sides, so we can't say his name without giving him something else to deal with.

"Now, you might ask yourself, 'What about training?'" Sergeant Bill says. "There'll be none of that. Training will give you away in this scenario."

That makes sense. Serps are trying to be just like us, so they won't know the difference if we be ourselves.

Sergeant Bill continues on and takes the words right out of my mouth. I nod and see others doing the same. We all get it, even though none of us knows each other. I bet Chancellor Ike planned it that way through the Final Front. He's holding a rally all the way on the other side of Apex tonight. That's smart. Plausible deniability to keep us all safe.

I watch the Sarge talk and know we're tuned into the same frequency. Choi's a badass. I bet if the basement ceiling caved in, he'd be able to stop it with his head. He's solid as a post, and I bet he's seen some shit. That makes me feel better about how easily he spotted me outside.

I imagine already being out in the field and passing him in the street while I'm undercover. We won't so much as look at each other because we're professionals, but we'll both know that we're part of an unspoken brotherhood.

There will be no medals for me because I can't talk about what I do, not even to my wife when I have one. She'll respect that I don't talk. Maybe I'll even meet my future wife on a mission. I glance at the cyberpunk chick still messing with the box on the table. She's actually kind of hot.

Then, the basement gets pretty quiet. Sergeant Bill is looking at us like he expects someone to say something. One of the other guys, a redhead with too many freckles, raises his hand.

"What if the serps want us to eat someone's cat, sir?"

"What did you call me?"

"S-sergeant."

"Anyone here want to help him out with that question?"

"You eat the damn cat," I say.

"What did you say?"

The Sarge gets in my face, but I stare straight ahead and repeat it.

"Did you hear that?" he asks cat question guy.

Then Sarge repeats my words like he's in awe. Even better, he gets all of the other guys to repeat it.

Yeah choi, I was made for this.

Then we get serious. Sergeant Bill says we all got to make a temporary sacrifice. I guess we all knew it was coming, but it's still hard to hear it...

We're all going to have to get serp tongues before going out into the Stretch.

Cat question guy looks at me, maybe hoping I'll speak up and give him an excuse to chicken out. Nope, not going to happen. We stand there in silence until the moment's gone.

Sarge tells us we'll get out normal tongues back once the mission's done, then he drops some inside knowledge that we didn't know.

The serps don't talk when they're alone among their own kind because they're not advanced enough to have their own language. They only know how to copy.

"We trust you, but we can't have you slipping up and talking when you make first contact out in the Stretch. For that reason, you're going to have to get your vocal cords paralyzed. Sounds worse than it really is, and it's even more temporary than the tongue mods, no reversal needed.

"Now if you go see that lovely lady over there, she'll get you sorted… Any volunteers?"

I double-time it over to the cyberpunk chick because I don't want any of the other guys making a first impression before I do.

She's wearing blackout contact lenses, so it's like I'm staring into her soul when she looks up at me.

"Hey, so it's really simple. You put you face in there." She rotates the gunmetal box my way. The top and side facing me are open, and the inside is white foam with a face-shaped hole. "Then your stick your tongue in there." She points to a black hole that lines up with the mouth of the white face hole. There's something down there, something with metal legs.

"Having second thoughts? It only hurts for a second. It's nothing compared to this." She opens her mouth and shows me her tongue stud.

I run my eyes over her metal, leather, and tattoos to let her know fear is the farthest thing from my mind right now.

"I don't know… will I still be able to do this?" I do the old 3-leaf clover tongue trick and let her get a good look while the other guys line up behind me. I stare into her designer eyes. Someone behind me coughs, but I keep staring until she gives a slow smile.

Then I put my face in the box. She puts her hand on the back of my head and strokes my hair. We'll probably tell our kids about this moment.

She's right. It's quick, more like a millisecond, an intense burst like a laser slicing my head down the middle. But then it's gone and whatever's in that hole sprays something icy and soothing into my throat.

Her hand stops stroking my hair, and I take my head out of the box. Another, heavier hand lands on my shoulder before I can get her holo.

It's Sergeant Bill and he's guiding me back up the basement stairs while I blink away the white spots in my vision.

"Let's check you out here, soldier," he says when we're next to the hole that leads back out into the alleyway. It's dark now, so he pulls out a pen light and a hand mirror to give me a look.

Oy choi! I try to say it, but my new tongue just flaps around. That's when I remember about the frozen vocal cords.

Sarge plays it cool and gives me a moment to fight down the panic.

I take another look. There's not even a speck of blood, and a serp's tongue isn't like a snake's tongue. It's more like two smaller human tongues that can move in different directions. If I hold it still, I can barely tell the difference.

Sarge is right, it'll be easy to reverse. I close my mouth and look at him.

"Congratulations, you're first out in the field, but we have a special surprise before your Stretch deployment. We couldn't tell you until you reached this stage, but you get to meet him. Tonight."

Chancellor Ike. He doesn't have to say the name.

As he gives me the details of how I'll get to the rally and what happens after, my eyes start to tear up. I clear my throat, but even that doesn't make a sound.

"Hey, you know how to use one of these?" Sergeant Bill asks as I'm about to leave. He hands me something that feels light and solid at the same time.

"That's a ghost gun, undetectable and 3D-printed to match the color of your skin. You get just the one shot, but you might need it if things go sideways with the serps. Keep it close. All right soldier, I'll leave you to it." He shakes my hand before going back to the basement.

Even if I could talk, I wouldn't have the words. The risk Chancellor Ike is taking for us goes beyond words. He didn't have to, but he did, and he's letting me meet him with a loaded weapon on my person. That's what makes him great. His ability to completely trust someone in a world filled with lies.

I take a steadying breath, then remind myself to breath only through my nose from here on out to keep my serp tongue hidden.

The cruiser is already waiting there in the alley just like Sergeant Bill said it would be. Nothing fancy, but it hovers smoothly enough over the southside's cracked pavement then picks up speed on the northside's shiny streets where the weepster elites live in hi-rises and pretend that serps aren't flooding our city with sacromine.

The driver doesn't say a word or even look at me. He just hands me my rally ticket and lets me off a few blocks from the Apex arena.

I show my VIP ticket, and the metal detector is quiet like me as I zip through security.

At first, I'm a little paranoid about someone trying to start a conversation with me, but it's easy to just clap, nod, and smile with my mouth closed after Chancellor Ike comes out and starts talking. My seat's in row 9, close enough to the stage that I can hear his voice boom before the speakers farther back in the stadium amplify it. He looks even bigger in real life. He makes this packed stadium feel small.

And it's not like I think he's a god. I know he's not perfect, and he'll be the first to say so. But that's why he's our last chance. He's not afraid to say what's on everyone's mind.

Then, right in the middle of Chancellor Ike's story about how he made the weepsters pay their fair share, someone two rows ahead of me stands up from his seat.

It seems like the wrong time for a standing ovation. Plus, he's facing the wrong way. He climbs on his seat to put himself even higher over the seated crowd.

That's when I see it's cat question guy from the basement.

One of his eyes is swollen shut, and the other eye is bugging out of his skull, searching the stadium for something behind me.

I turn my head to look back and see others doing the same.

Chancellor Ike can't help but notice.

"Sir? Sir, do you need assistance? Do you need someone to teach you how to sit? This guy. Look at this wacko. Are you lost? Seats are for sitting, sir."

Cat question guy starts climbing over the other people to get out of his row. People are recording him on their holos because that's what people do.

Idiot. He's going to compromise the mission.

"We need some assistance over here." The speakers carry Chancellor Ike's voice across the stadium.

Cat question guy takes off up the aisle then runs back toward the stage as security comes down the aisle after him.

Oh shit, does cat question guy also have his own ghost gun?

Maybe he's a double agent. Maybe the serps are smarter than we think.

More security is closing in on the stage from both sides, but they'll never get there in time to save Chancellor Ike.

I put my hand on the ghost gun in my pocket and get to my feet, but then I see Sergeant Bill at the head of security sprinting down the aisle.

"Gun! Gun! He's got a gun!" Sarge draws his own piece without breaking stride and drops cat question guy with a quick burst to the chest.

Everyone around me has dropped to the floor with their holos hanging overhead to still take in the action.

I realize I'm still on my feet.

Sergeant Bill glances at me. I look away and start sinking to the floor to keep my cover, but something stops me.

He's standing at the end of my row, and those slits in that big block of a head are still trained on me.

Now, his gun is too.

"Check the tongue on the one in the aisle," he says, without taking his eyes off me. "I think he was signaling this guy."

My hand is still frozen on the ghost gun in my pocket, and my words are frozen in a mouth made to betray me.

Sarge plants his feet wide and shows me his teeth.

"Oy choi, let me see that tongue!"