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Science Fiction American

The moonlight maintained a brilliant glow that night, but only through the fractured peaks of the Southern Rockies. Jaxon Finch, Commander of the Compliance Enforcement Squad #357, moved quickly with a determined stride through the outcrops. His every breath misted the air with rapid puffs of ice as he led his loyal company toward the location of a suspected traitor camp.


“Move in, men, but be on guard. I have no idea what this ‘Cancer’ has set up here.” Jaxon ordered his men discreetly. He gestured toward the fledgling who went by Isaac and said, “Weston, you’re with me.”


“Aye aye, Commander.” His party replied in rigidly coordinated unison.


Jaxon spotted a glittery white mass less than one klick to his left that would make a superior vantage point. He scaled an oversized boulder, muscular legs engaged with each thrust. Frosty light refracted off the metal as he removed his helmet for a better look. His throat sank into the pit of his stomach while he gazed intensely into the murky darkness; shadows overlapped each other in a nearly spectral dance below.


“It’s quiet, sir.” Isaac remarked, breathless after finally scrambling up the side of the towering rock.


“That,” Jaxon started warily, in hushed tones, “is a very unsettling observation, Isaac.”


“What are your orders, sir?” Isaac whispered as he watched a plume of dark grey cloud swallow the full moon, and abruptly spit it out again.


“These foothills are crawling with caves, and ‘Cancer’ likes to spread—silently.”


Jaxon noticed an unnerving hesitation in Isaac’s body language as he replied with a quaver, “U-Understood, sir.”


“Keep your eyes peeled, high and low.” Jaxon began, “They have an affinity for tra-“


Tick-tick- tssspwooof- Ka-BOOM! Jaxon felt himself thrown violently backward by a bright red flash of pure energy before everything went black. He groaned in agony when he came to at last; the back of his hair sticky with coagulated blood when he palpated the source of his anguish.


Wha- What just- shit. He thought shakily as he struggled to his feet, depending heavily on the strength of a small slate rockface. How long have I been out? Where is everyone? He was becoming nervous as the gleaming morning sun crested the horizon wearing deep shades of amber and gold.


Jaxon had set up a rally point just South of the blast that knocked him unconscious; meeting there was the only logical course of action. He maneuvered his way carefully through the rocky ravine in which he landed, thoroughly unprepared for the destruction awaiting him as he pulled himself onto the ledge with a triumphant grunt. Dozens of rays from the dawning sun pointed at the severed remains of his men like mocking fingers stretched down from the sky.


Through gritted teeth Jaxon mumbled, “I- I’ve failed them. All of them.” He then declared with a purposeful growl, “I don’t deserve to walk away from here alive.” He drew the Beretta 92 from it's holster, checked the magazine, disarmed the safety, placed the muzzle firmly between his teeth, and pulled the trigger.


Click! Again. Click-click! Shit! The son of a bitch jammed! He removed it from his mouth to empty the magazine and clear the chamber. Jaxon paused when he noticed the trees in front of him; they pixelated and twisted into a swirling vortex of jade and turquoise, then cream and violet. The clearing in which he stood transformed into the dining room of a house that he had forgotten entirely.


“This is a dream.” Jaxon breathed as he gaped like a slack-jawed idiot at his wife over the dinner table. She was glowing. She was perfect.


“What is a dream, dear?” Beth replied casually as if she thought there were nothing amiss.


“Yeah, daddy! What?” Jaxon swooned and turned to the angelic voice of his daughter, Annie. His air seized from his airway and replaced with a hard nugget of adulation.


Jaxon swallowed the lump in his throat before smiling warmly at her and responding with a dedicated, “Well, honey, every day is a like a dream when I have you in my life. YOU are my sunshine forever.”


He reached out to pull her in for a hug, but his hand just phased through hers like she was an apparition before she froze, suspended in time. He turned to Beth on bated breath, reached his fingers toward her hardened face, and watched them pass through her like she was made of thick fog; Beth and Annie faded out of sight, and the room pixelated and twisted back to the glade he started in.


“It was just a memory,” he acknowledged under his breath, on the verge of tears, “but why did it consume me like that? Why can’t I remember what happened to them? Unless- “


The cogwheels in Jaxon’s brain engaged as he studied the surrounding carnage and considered the obscurity of what happened to him. He came to the stark realization that it was too interactive for an actual recollection; it was a series of fragments pieced together, a fictitious recreation of the distant past.


How could I have forgotten a whole lifetime? The only bit he could remember before that moment was working for the C.E.S., completely dedicated to Supreme Leader Harris. The Neural Net is connected to my memories- maybe I damaged my Cerebral web when I whacked my head? Jaxon though passively. No. That wouldn’t have any affect my Ocular implants.


The probabilities started flowing into his head like a well-rehearsed script. Maybe that wasn’t a typical land mine, but a type of pulse mine that sends out an electromagnetic frequency. Maybe that frequency shorted out the RFID chip in my arm, while triggering a series of vicious traps in the area.


Jaxon was roused by the discovery; he shouted “Aha!” and processed the newfound information audibly. “That would explain this bloodbath, the strength of the blast that tossed me, and why all my gear is on the fritz.”


Jaxon bellowed, “The whole damn thing was a trap! A freaking set up from the very start!”


The realization erupted from his mouth with more fervor than he intended, and his words reverberated for miles. He no longer felt like a failure for the loss; hellbent on revenge, he made himself a vow to find out who the perpetrator was, friend or foe, and make them pay for the lives they destroyed. Jaxon chose to hat-up to Human Containment Zone 26-05 in former Denver, CO. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, a newfound passion, and a clear goal in mind he had forgotten about the sizable gash on his skull.


Jaxon continued to have abstract visions, the frequency of which were increasing as the day stretched on; fighting with Beth in the car, embracing Annie with congratulations, playing games, watching movies. Each echo of the past making him susceptible to a flurry of excitement, compassion, anger, fear, and regret; his head spun with the turmoil that resulted from these flashes, and the obvious rifts in the waking day as the sun settled into the western sky.


It was quite the predicament, and he reeled while he reviewed his options. I can try to continue, losing valuable walking time with every hallucination, left open and vulnerable, or I can try to cut the chip from my arm; the latter swayed him with a great uncertainty. No one had ever tried to remove the chip before; nobody even considered it as if forbidden by some unknown force.


Jaxon steeled himself, his jaw set like iron, as he decided to fish the chip out of his arm. He started to shred his undershirt for use as a bandage when the words on the tag became pixels before his eyes. He cried out, “Not again, damnit!” as his world faded out once again. He returned from his reverie with a sense of foreboding and couldn’t shake the overwhelming sensation that someone was watching him; lurking in the shadows that were creeping idly along the underbrush.


“Hello? Is someone out there?” Jaxon asked the woods in a booming voice that all but shook the ground while he placed a steady hand over his pistol. His keen eyes were sharp as daggers, darting in every direction with no indication of movement. “Show yourself willingly and no one needs to get hurt.”


Nervous anticipation surmounted his fierce conviction in the lengthening stillness; his opponents’ species or intention or mere existence, still unknown.


“Drop yew-er weapons and I will come quietly, otherwise I can assure yew now that yew WILL lose this battle.” The voice was strong, and feminine in nature with a unique inflection when she said ‘You’.


Jaxon’s fingers clasped the handgrip, his face contorted into a wild snarl, he flipped the 92 from his belt, and threw it on the ground in front of him with a firm thump; the knife strapped to his shin would remain secret.


“Good man.” Her voice was haunting as it resonated through the trees, making her hard to pinpoint.


Crack! Jaxon whipped about face toward the snapping of twigs while remaining anchored firmly on the spot and dropped his center of gravity to a high crouch. She seemed to materialize out of the ink, floating on the accumulated fog and into the clearing. She had disheveled auburn hair, specked with bits of tree, healthy tanned skin that barely showed the dirt on her face, and remarkable green eyes. She’s young, maybe early 20’s. She is a Societal Reject; those that he referred to as ‘Cancer’.


“You’re an S.R.!” Jaxon shouted with shock. “Did your people set those traps in the southern foothills? Well? DID YOU?!"


“Calm yew-erself down, damnit, yew want bears and cougs on us?” He could sense her trepidation as she continued, “It wasn’t me, per sae, but it was another group that my ‘people’, as yew call ‘em, are friendly with. I’m Historia, but yew can call me Ria!”


Jax was caught off guard by her suddenly friendly introduction. “Uh- Oh. I’m Jaxon, C.E.S. Commander #357, you can call me Jax I guess.” He took a moment to compose himself and carried on, “Those were my men blasted all over those rocks, I was knocked clear.” His head dropped in remorse.


“Not entirely.” Ria replied bluntly, as she peered at the rear of his crown. “Looks like a good chunk of yew-er noggin is missin' back there.”


“What?” Jax's hand flew to the back of his head. “Oh! I completely forgot about that! This mission has been a swirling storm of shit. It’s looks worse than it is, I think.”


“How ‘bout I patch yew up, and yew can tell me all about yew-er shitstorm.” She grinned ear to ear and tore a couple of strips from his shirt while penetrating him with huge emerald orbs. This perplexed Jax to no end; he mused to himself, what is this chick?


Jax recalled the events that transpired since his troops departed Zone 26-05, up to the most recent hallucination, with no interruption; skin prickled, and face flushed with relief. When he glanced up at Ria, she had her nose crinkled and her chin scrunched up in contemplation. All he could think was, Heh, that’s cute.


“Well, Jax, yew wanna know what I reckon?”


“Please, this is torture.”


“We aught to get that God forsaken chip out of yew-er arm first, then I will fill yew in on the rest. Timin’ is important.”


“Damn, I was really hoping you would have an alternative. That was literally what I was trying to avoid; it is my map, compass, bank card, door key, I.D.- it’s my life!”


“Yew know yew can have a life without it, don’tcha? Yew just gotta come back with me.”


“Okay- shit, whatever. I can’t handle these fucked delusions, or hallucinations, or just- get it out of me. Get it over with, use my knife.” Jax hoisted his pant leg and unsheathed the Ka-Bar.


“Whoa! Jeez, I guess yew really can’t trust nobody. Oh well, give it here, and take this.” Ria passed him a branchlet about the width of his thumb, pulled a small hand torch from her pouch, and proceeded to sterilize the blade. His eyes grew wide and affixed to the flame in her calloused fingers.


“Right- nicked it from an old house." Ria reasoned when she caught him staring. "So, are yew ready to do this? Yew better bite down on that stick and show me where to cut.”


Jax’s jaw hammered down hard when she pierced his forearm, heat trickled from the opening as she sliced carefully. His teeth gnashed and his tongue was littered with dust when she peeled the flesh back; she lacerated some minor blood vessels that fused with the chip, which caused a gush.


“Crap! Jax, pressure!” She cried as she lit the flare and pointed it at the flat of the blade; he held his shirt over the incision. “Come on, come on, come on.” She repeated under her breath, willing the tiny fire to smolder.


As soon as the shaft hinted orange, she pushed his hand and shirt away, brought it to his veins, and applied very little pressure. Kssssk-ksss! Blood boiled and sizzled, and then finally ceased; Ria proceeded to tie the rest of his shirt around his arm, clean side down to keep the site clean.


Jax felt a warm tingle radiate from the top of his head, to the tips of his fingers, down his spine, and legs, to the toes, and back again; he felt a clarity that had been absent from his life, and a subsequent revelation that set his passions aflame. He could remember what happened before, what happened to his girls, his life.


“They ki-killed them in c-cold blood and took me. They bro-oke into our home- KILLED THEM!” Jax’s body rocked with heartfelt sobs; his memories cascaded back without abridgement.


Ria stood awestruck, resolving not to speak, wrapped him in her arms, and held him until his bawl turned to a double breathing. She asked in a tender voice, “Are yew okay?”


His eyes flashed to hers with a fevered look, “The Neural Net. It stole entire lives during the upload- my life- and none of them have a clue! They are just wandering around as vacant drones trying to please the Supreme Leader!”


“Yeah, I kinda’ already knew that. I’m so sorry!” Ria admitted with remorse. “I had to be careful while yew were linked.” He could see every tooth as she smiled at him. “We can talk feely now. What exactly happened to yew and yew-er family?”


“We refused the chip- they said we could refuse it, no repercussion. It was a lie. Of course, it was- I knew it deep down, but I had no doubt the day they gassed my home, broke down the door, and dragged us out like animals.” He was unyielding as his eyes glazed over. “Beth was a fighter. She was always a fighter, and Annie was so young- only 6. Beth struggled away and tried for a C.E.S. pistol. That was my cue to cut loose and try to get Annie- something went wrong. They both were shot dead, and I- I- can’t recall. The next thing I knew I was C.E.S., was always C.E.S...” Jax trailed off and went silent.


“Come back with me and fight them!” Ria insisted with unwavering zeal; the final shaft of sunlight made her eyes twinkle and shine with enthusiasm. “We could start a revolution together!”


“Not fight them, fight for them; for their freedom!” Jax began with aggressive vehemence. “We need to break the system and break them free from the forces that control them!”



~*~


December 19, 2020 04:16

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