Milo

Leopold ambushed him right as he left his private quarters. “Hey, Milo. A minute, please.”

“Of course, what?” Milo said.

Leo fistbumped his shoulder. “Great work out there! You really nailed it.”

“Thanks,” Milo said, not knowing how to respond. “Your flying was impeccable.”

“That is what I do.” Leo did a small bow. “I had my reservations about you at first, when the Capt’n asked the crew how we thought about you, before you signed the contract. I thought you did not have it in you. All this Navy stuff. It takes a special kind of person.”

Milo grinned. “Should I thank you? Maybe?”

“Don’t take it personally. It’s just, when one has been in this game as long as I have, you start to observe patterns in the people that stick around and the ones that bail. The Capt’n has an eye for recruiting talent. Look at me, for an example. I was a retired Navy pilot, divorced and kept a tight grip on the bottle. I wanted to fly again, I needed to fly to feel whole again. Do you get that? Whatever. Captain Samuels saw through all my bullshit and judged me solely by the way I handled the sticks.”

Milo had not thought about it before, but the Final Sight was a bunch of misfits, that in their individual parts accomplished little, but together worked wonderfully.

“Well, this crew has some fine synergistic effects, even though you and we are vastly different,” Milo said.

“Exactly! Never doubt the Captain’s judgement. He knows what he is doing,” Leo said. “Well, I have said my pieces. See you around.”

-

“It is fine, Blue. You did good today,” Sam said. “Like we talked before, this is what happens. You think like a normal, functioning individual of the society. I am not like you. Get me that toolbox.”

They were in the corvette’s workshop. Sam’s combat suit stood in the middle of the room, its back was still flaked and open, its arms to the side and its legs spread apart. Any hatch and compartment open. Every mechanism inside the suit was looked at and tested. Post-battle ritual, the Navy called it.

“So you get my point?” Milo asked, handing Sam the toolbox.

Sam pulled out a device and plugged its cord into one of the suit’s motor muscles. “No. I will never understand such things. Empathy or sympathy, whatever it is called. Some people needs to be killed, some people needs to be defended.”

Sam went from motor muscle to motor muscle, plugging in the device into all of them. The Navy discipline was not something you joked about.

“That is a simple way to look at the world,” Milo said. “That has to feel strange.”

“Sometimes people are shuffled around and those who needed to be defended have to be killed instead,” Sam said. “Especially if I get angry. Rage is just so much more distinct than the others.”

A coldness crept up his spine. He had never seen Sam in action and Diego’s warning had not really gotten through to him. Sam had talked about his lack of certain emotions, but to really see it. To really see it play out, that changed things. Milo hesitated. Could they stay friends? Should Milo leave the Final Sight and go back to the assembly yard, leave this stuff behind? Maybe. What if he also turned into a Sam?

“But it is good,” Sam said. “That you feel hesitant towards me. And the things we Navy men do. Like we talked. It confirms your humanity.”

Sam finished with the motor muscles and went over to check the suit’s circuitry. By using a different device he was able to confirm the inputs and outputs of electric flows.

“Keep that humanity close. You do not want to become like me,” Sam said and scuttled to the side, to access a small compartment on the side of the suit’s leg.

“Roger that, sir,” Milo said.

Sam turned to him and smiled. “Ha. That is the first time you have acknowledged rank. Good job, soldier.”

“I am the electrical engineer,” Milo said quickly.

Sam chuckled and moved back his attention to the suit.

“Do you want help? I can double check the battery packs for you. I don’t really want to start cleaning the mess I made in the mess hall, just before the battle alarm sounded,” Milo said.

“Sure. But you are still going to clean it,” Sam said. “You absorbed from the pirate’s combat suit without burning your hands. Did you notice that?”

“Yeah. My body felt more ready for the surge,” Milo said. “I also saw other deposits of liquids beyond the one containing water. Everything clicked during that moment. It made perfect sense that the body’s fluids would be sectioned into different deposits containing each a different fluid.”

“So you can access each fluid individually?” Sam asked.

“No. But during the surge I thought I was almost able to. A strange feeling,” Milo said. “You know, it is like there is an invisible force field between me and the other deposits. But now I know they exist.”

Sam mumbled. “Powers or manifestations, or whatever you call it. So goddamn weird.”

“Actually, no. There seem to be rules and logic to them. We just need to explore them,” Milo said.

“If you say so,” Sam said.

The door slid open and Claire entered with a box of spare parts under her arms. “Captain, Captain. What have I said about you tinkering with the rig on your own?”

“I am just doing some post-battle routine checks,” Sam said.

Milo felt misplaced, as if he observed a squabble between two siblings.

“We both know what happens when you get frisky with the weapons on your rig. A fine tune there and a trigger made more sensitive there,” Claire said. “It can have some pretty horrible consequences, you know.”

“Well, if the weapons would fire quicker…,” Sam started.

Claire stepped up. “No. No. That is not how it works. Not at all. This is my workshop, my domain. Inside these walls I am the Captain. And since the recruitment of Milo, here.” She turned, facing him. “I am not the rookie anymore, or the new girl around here. Inside these walls I build awesomely cool stuff that kills better than anything else. And I keep the reactor going when everyone else thinks it will fail.”

Sam stepped away from the rig, his hands up. “Sure, Engineer Williams. Do your thing. I just wanted to help.”

“You can help when I want your help, Capt’n. Now scurry along, I have some of those cool things to get to,” Claire said. “I will talk to you later, Capt’n. One of those things might be in your liking, but I cannot have you tinkering with the rig for some time. We might have an explosive disaster on our hands, or on or dismembered hands. Something along those lines.”

“Sure.” Sam grabbed Milo and the two of them left the workshop.

“So, what was all that about?” Milo asked. “She just plowed over your command.”

Sam smiled. “I need to challenge them sometimes, I need to shove them around, to let them grow and take their own space. To evolve. And by them I mean my crew. You gotta pinch them in the side sometimes.”

“I really don’t understand, but I am not the Captain, so I will just leave it at that.” Milo turned. “I actually need to leave. For training.”

“That is why I am the Captain, Blue. Good luck.”

-

He hooked the sweetness and made the liquid available for his manifestation. The tendril came to life within his closed fists, snaking out between his fingers and curling up on his arms. Extinguish. The tendrils died, dissipating into nothingness. Like the flip of a switch. He hooked the sweetness again and fueled his body’s liquid into his manifestation. New tendrils snaked out from his fists. Extinguish and the electrical tendrils dissipated again.

He entered the police station, the guards going through the entire scanning procedure as before. They really did execute the ‘no exceptions’ clause. He had visited a few times now, so he found navigating to the -5th floor and the exercise field to be easy.

Commander Meyer stood straight and proud, clean shaven chin with that slight scar on the tip of his jaw. Milo felt a chill down his back, thinking back to what Dad had yelled at him. ‘Everyone is enslaved by him’ and how he had stolen Dad’s mind control manifestation. Crazy stuff said by an unbalanced man. The things could not be true, but the mere suggestion put Commander Meyer in a different light.

“Do you feel different, Milo?” the Commander asked. “You look different.”

“How do you mean, Commander?” Milo asked.

“Milo, Milo. Call me Jacob. We know each other better than that already. You control your manifestation, not the other way around. You made conscious decisions on how to hook and execute your attributes. This time you analysed the situation and solved it. When you saved Rachel, luck saved you. But this encounter with the pirate and his combat suit, you used your brain and your available tools,” Jacob said.

Milo was stunned, unable to form a response. Did Jacob just compliment him? Yes, that had to be it.

“I believe that you are ready to meet my vanguard,” Jacob said. “And begin the processes of being folded into it.”

The inevitable next step. He had little say in the matter, if he wanted to stay in the city. Jacob had been straight from the beginning. But still it felt discomforted.

Milo hesitated. “But what about my duties on the Final Sight? I am contracted.”

“That is true. Those contracts can be bent. You will not have the same amount of time allotted for work on your ship, that is true. A cost for progression and the safety of my city’s civilians. Don’t come here and whine. You can throw lightning bolts from your hands,” Jacob said. “Come on. Grow up. Hardship is part of the process.”

Could he justify himself to get more hours with his crew? Could he sway his opinion? He seemed a logical person, so he would probably not cave with an emotional angle. What logical approaches were available? For starters, his training would suffer if he put more hours on the ship. Could he not think of anything? Maybe he could start by laying forth how he was instrumental in saving the ship from the recent attack? To weigh on the fact he used his manifestation as a defensive tool. That would be a start.

“Stop that. You cannot slip away from this. I have decided for you,” Jacob said. “Before we leave for the facility, please tell me about the incident. In your own words of course. I have seen the video, but as your manifestation mentor I need to understand your experience. What was different between this incident and the previous one?”

Manifestation mentor? That would be one way to describe it. But the words cringed.

“Right, then,” Milo started. “Like we have discussed before, when I absorb energy from an external source I feel powerful, but the capacity soon dwindles. I cannot hold on to it for some reason. I speculate that I am too weak to manage those levels. But this time I was on the cusp of holding it. I believe that our powers, our manifestations can be fueled by not only the body’s water, but also other types of liquids. Like blood, for an example.”

Jacob sighed and paced. “Other liquids?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Milo acknowledged with enthusiasm. “I saw other deposits, hidden behind the one with water. It contained blood. I could almost reach it.”

Jacob frowned. “Hmm. Yes, we have brushed on your conceptual model before. Your visualization of how manifestations work.”

“I have this feeling that if I tear into the blood deposit I will be able to hold onto the external energy,” Milo said. “Catch 22. I need the added energy to even come close to the deposit, but I need it to hold onto the energy. Do you understand what I am trying to explain?”

“I have worked and trained people like you for over thirty years. Don’t you think I have thought about this before?” Jacob said.

“Don’t be so rude,” Milo said. “I am here doing my best and putting in the hours. If my ideas are wrong, just say that. You don’t have to be rude about it.”

Jacob inhaled deeply before continuing. “I am sorry, Milo. It’s just that I have challenged the subject on so many occasions, that I cannot remember them all. Manifestations are fueled by water. Pure and simple. I am tired of this topic. You are wrong.”

“But. I see these other deposits like if they are real,” Milo said. “I just need to open them.”

An even deeper frown grew in Jacob’s face. “They are mental constructs, nothing else. They represent your desire to become stronger. Stronger by the means of a ‘quick fix’ instead of rigorous training. Let’s meet with my vanguard and ask them. Just follow me.”

Jacob spoke with logic, but Milo could not simply shove away the sensation he had felt. The other deposits had felt real. Could his mind be lying to him?

“Come on,” Jacob said and gestured to follow him.

-

People stepped aside from Jacob’s path, not wanting to get too close to the city’s military commander. Milo walked by his side.

“Just through here,” Jacob said.

They arrived at a cart station. Because of Jacob’s presence people moved away from the station and the next available cart. No one had any intention of making Commander Meyer wait. Which sounded like a healthy decision. The cart’s door slid closed and it accelerated. Its built-in inertia mesh kept the two of them from being squeezed into jelly. The cart took a path Milo didn’t recognize. It stopped at a smaller station. Two pilots in combat suits stood right outside and watched how they exited the cart.

“Token accepted,” a combat suit said.

Jacob acknowledged with a nod. Milo followed Jacob into another set of corridors. These corridors were empty of people. He could not figure out where in the city they had travelled to. Some secret black site without a doubt, if you need special access tokens and the level of security a notch beyond even the Navy docks. A new, larger chamber with a white clinical feeling. They continued down another, brief corridor.

The corridor ended. A wall. But it looked strange, there was a flickering to the wall. Milo hesitated, but he observed that Jacob didn’t. The Commander stepped straight into the wall and disappeared.

“Let’s go,” Jacob said.

The wall was fake. A hologram, maybe.

Milo swallowed and stepped forward. A short burst of brightness. Then nothing. Sand. Desert. Blazing sun in the sky. Where were they?

“What is this?” Milo asked.

“That wall acts as a final barrier. If you do not have access it toasts you. About the sand, I like it. It just feels crunchy and warm underneath my feet,” Jacob said.

That felt a little too harsh. Nobody would ever find their way down here. Too well hidden and already too protected. How many combat suits had they passed already? Six? And the potential of weapon mounts inside the walls. Access tokens. This barrier had little purpose. Milo stayed his tongue. Maybe the barrier was not keeping people out but instead kept something inside. Maybe he should not have come with Jacob. But his curiosity made him walk forward.

A building appeared on the horizon. White and expansive. Only a single storey. Jacob led him into the building. Its white interior screamed clinical and a certain smell met his nose. Disinfectant. A door slid open on the side, Jacob went first and Milo second.

A training room of sorts. Almost like one of those gymnastic fields that the Navy used. Big open space. The sun could be seen through the ceiling. Two people stood in the center. A woman; sleek, brown curly hair tied into a knot and dark blue Navy fatigues. A man; squarely built, short black hair and also dark blue Navy fatigue. Their stature spoke of confidence. Pride.

“Amanda, Carl, this is Milo,” Jacob said and turned to him. “They will be your squadmates. Or at least for this rotation.”

“For this rotation?” Milo mumbled.

Carl walked up to him, reached out a hand. “Hi, how are you?” Carl said calmly. Milo was surprised at how smooth his hands were as they shook hands. “Yeah, didn’t the boss man tell you? There are many of us, but only one Rachel. She can hardly de-age the entire platoon of manifestees. So most are kept in hibernation pods and we are swapped around every few years. For longevity.”

“Alright,” Milo said, not at all interested to be put into storage like a wheel of cheese.

Amanda reached out a hand. “Hi.”

Carl shoved her hand away before Milo could reach for it. Amanda gave him a surly look.

“Do not go too close to her, Milo. She is dangerous,” Carl said. “With your temper, Amanda, you do not know if you would phaze off his hand.”

Amanda sighed. “I was not going to do anything.”

“Good Carl. We also have no clue how his power will interact with hers,” Jacob said, and turned to Milo. “Milo show them yours and they will show theirs.”

Fists closed. Like hitting a switch, he hooked and the sweetness rushed into his mouth. The crackling tendrils came to life and snaked out from between his fingers. Curling around his forearms, sparkling blue. Milo held his manifestation steady and relaxed with only a handful of tendrils moving about. With just a few weeks of proper training he had achieved a control he could only have dreamt about before. Jacob had been so helpful.

Carl closed his fists. A sluggish flow of red and black lava seeped between his fingers. The molten rock engulfed his fists and forearms, flowing up his shoulders before coming to a halt. Milo felt the warm heat in his face even from this distance and the smell of sulfur was distinct. Rotten eggs was not his favorite of smells.

Milo looked at Amanda and she winked at him. She sunk into the floor and vanished.

“Bo!” Amanda said behind him, Milo jumped in fright. Carl laughed.

“She phazes through materials. Simply put, it means that she can walk through walls,” Jacob said. “The danger is that you cannot have two sets of molecules taking up the same space. If she were to phase a hand into your hand and then rematerialise it, still inside you, that piece of you would simply stop existing. Quite scary when you think about it. I would stay away from her touch if I were you.”

“What happens now, boss man?” Carl asked. The flows of lava still moved about like a sluggish soup across the man’s entire arms and shoulders.

“Amanda, come with me. Milo and Carl will have a chat, since your two manifestation share several similar attributes I think that it will be productive for you both,” Jacob said.

Carl stood quiet for a few moments, letting Amanda and Jacob leave. Milo did not know what to do, so he focused on keeping his electrical tendrils do laps around his arms. The door slid close.

“Finally. Those rich snobs have left,” Carl said, letting out a breath. “Let’s get down and dirty into the details. I grew up on the streets before Jacob found me and dragged me out of it,” Carl said. “He saved many of us from very different and tough lives. And then he gave us this. Our community and fellowship. And don’t forget about the powers.”

Milo’s shoulders relaxed, surprised about Carl’s openness. “He helped me too. To find control and step beyond my potential. He is a good man. You call them powers and not manifestations?”

“Manifestation is such a weird word. It rolls badly in your mouth. I don’t like it. Call them what they are. Powers. You could prefix it with ‘super’, but that would just be silly. So don’t do that,” Carl said. “Superheroes are a thing in movies and comics. They are not real, they are fictional characters with fictional emotions. We are people with real powers and real emotions.”

“That is one way to put it,” Milo said.

Carl chuckled. ”You worked as an electrical engineer? Before Jacob found you.”

“Not much of the engineering part, but very much as an electrician doing hard, honest work,” Milo said. “I was recently employed by a Navy corvette crew.”

Carl smiled. “Cool, I never served, so I cannot know how the whole crew mentality thing works. But I guess it is similar to the community thing we have here. Working as an electrician when being immune to electricity. Nice. Clever. I like it.”

Milo watched as the flow of molten rock flooded across Carl’s body, engulfing him entirely. Even over his face. The man was showing off.

“Can you see through that layer?” Milo asked.

The lava around Carl’s mouth moved as he spoke. “Yeah, if you lean closer you are able to see the small slits in the barrier, but don’t. I don’t want to burn you. Boss man told me about you. Show me your barrier. Carefully. You do not want to burn through your liquids.”

The sweetness was already connected, but he accelerated the rush of the water. Number of tendrils grew and spread around his body. They crackled as they merged and split from each other. He kept the expenditure of water at a controlled pace, but enough to give the barrier enough stopping power.

“Good,” Carl said. “As Jacob has told you, practise makes perfect. I heard you stopped a combat suit’s gauntlet with your barrier. ”

“‘Stopped’ is too nice of a description. I was only able to slow it down and then the metal fist connected with my face,” Milo said. “You didn’t notice the bruise on my face?”

“A man is entitled to his secrets,” Carl said, smiling.

A few minutes passed. Milo grew thirsty, he licked his lips. They were drying.

“Good. Has not Jacob run the full combat speech over you yet?” Carl asked. “In battle you will need to do several things at the same time. Talking, holding the barrier and throwing lightning bolts. And other things.”

Milo nodded. “Okay, so your power is lava. What if a truckload of water was dumped on you? Would your power snuff out?” Milo asked. The tendrils’ speed slowed as he spoke, as his focus slipped. Multitasking was not his thing.

“Maybe. But not if I am able to refuel the cooled molten rock with a new, hot flow,” Carl said.

Milo opened his mouth to speak, but had to stop. A good amount of his electrical tendrils died off. Sweetness slowly retreated, his focus was off. Would there not be a build-up of cooled rock on Carl? Like a growing mountain. Milo’s focus slipped. Sweetness vanished and all the tendrils died.

“Oh no,” Milo said, defeated.

“Ahh. Don’t do that to yourself. Concentrate on the small improvements. Failing is important for growth. It was a good try. You just need practise. Me and Amanda have been at this for years, sometimes even our focus fails,” Carl said. “That is enough for today. Boss man said you questioned how powers are fueled. He mentioned your thoughts about other body liquids.”

Milo nodded. “Yeah. But Jacob talked me down from it. His conclusion that they were simply constructs created by my mind. As a desire to quickly become stronger.”

“Hmm. Boss man knows what he is talking about. He has tried and explored every aspect of manifestations,” Carl said. “Don’t go down the crazy man’s route.”

“Thank you, Carl. I will follow your advice,” Milo replied.

“Cool, cool. I will show you out,” Carl said.

Carl showed him the way out. Across the sand, through the flickering wall and to the secret cart station.

“See you next time, Milo,” Carl said. “Get some rest, you will need it.”