《Metahuman Chronicles》015. The Marshal
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CHAPTER 15
“Of course! I had almost forgotten— it was today!” Marshal Gessner said as he raced toward them. Jasmine was taken aback. She had seen him a few times on television, or online but she had not expected him to be so cheerful.
“Very pleased to meet you, my friends.” He said as he clasped each of their hands with his. “Good work, agents, you are dismissed. I’ll contact the administrative branch about a raise— you have my word!”
The TIA operatives left the room satisfied, and the Marshal turned to them.
“So, my friends. I hope your stay at the Dilliers research center was to your liking? How was the journey back?”
Jasmine paused for a few seconds to register what the leader of their country had just asked.
“The stay was adequate, Marshal Gessner. We had no room to complain.” Veronica answered briskly.
“Good, good. Veronica, is it? Make sure to tell me if you have any complaints or incidents. I’ll have them fired straight away. Oh, and by the way, you can call me Hermann, I’d like for our relationship to be amicable.”
“Hermann, then.” She said.
His smile widened. “What about you three?” He asked.
“It— it was good.” Franz gulped as he replied.
“Yeah…” Jasmine said.
Agnes just nodded.
“Perfect!” The man said as he clapped his hands. “Then let me first inform you about your stay here. You will all be living here, there are standart rooms on the last floor— unless you want to live in one of those chic royal rooms. Seeing how important you are to Azeris, I shall allow it.”
Seeing no objections, Hermann Gessner continued.
“I must apologize. Originally, you would have had a day of rest to adjust yourself to your life here, but the MSA has struck again, and the time interval between attacks is getting closer and closer. So I’ll have you fill in an application form for—”
A sharp ringtone interrupted him— the telephone on his desk. He answered it.
“Yes?” He hissed. As he listened to the person on the other end of the line, his expression morphed into disbelief and then anger. “What are you— eight thousand?! Is the army not there yet to back up the fire department?”
He paused, waiting for an answer.
“I want double then, tell them I sent the order. Contact the mayor and tell him to get back in the city to aid the evacuation. I want structure and order, do you hear me? I’ll have him tried for treason if he doesn’t get his ass back in Preusal now!”
Another pause.
“Well yes, obviously this is a major fuckup, commander. A major one. Fix this, now! I want a dozen snipers flying on helicopters, you shoot as soon as you locate her. I expect not to be disappointed again.” He said dryly as he hung up.
Jasmine did not dare to say anything. Hermann Gessner looked bitter, but he took a few deep breaths and regained his composure.
“Forgive me. It seems every time I get called, it is to receive horrible news, and that gets frustrating. Now, where were we? Ah, right, I need you to fill these forms. You’ll be joining the TIA.”
“I believed we would join the army, Hermann.” Veronica stated.
“Of course not, I would never commit that fatal mistake, you know it is illegal.”
The metahumans all nodded at that.
“I would not be able to keep you a secret, and then we would be invaded by the coalition again. Lest we forget about the end of the Great Patriotic War. And there’s also the League of Nations inspection approaching in a few months.” He said as he handed each one of them a form.
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Jasmine looked at her paper. It was simple information to fill in, the problem being that she had no address or cell phone. The rest could easily be filled, her name, her date of birth, the date… being a metahuman, and her power.
“Why are you making us fill this?” Agnes asked. “You already know everything.”
“Call it a formality. Don’t worry, you will be accepted in, I’ll send it directly to the Director.”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re still using the registry, aren’t you?” The girl continued. Her tone was clearly hostile.
Jasmine’s eyes widened, and she bit her lip. She noticed Franz mouthing ‘what are you doing’ silently to her.
“Yes, we are. Believe it or not, it does more good than harm.” Marshal Gessner answered.
“I’d like to hear that one! Please tell me— us—” Agnes said, looking at her friends. “how much good tracking us does.”
“Forgive me, dear Agnes. You are as feisty as they said, and I must say that is refreshing.” He said, smiling. “Picture this example. A metahuman family got separated soon after the genocide had begun. Their two daughters? Taken on a train to Cliedor up north. The father? Brought to Mount Rosharia as a slave, to work in the coal mines.”
“What about their mother?” Agnes asked, already knowing the answer.
“She was pregnant with a third child— their son. She was shipped to a death camp and shot.”
Jasmine’s heart dropped. The girl had heard many stories about metahuman deaths, but every time she heard another story about the genocide, she struggled to breathe. Had her mother been shot ruthlessly just like this woman? Or had she been worked to death on a farm or a mine?
“Luckily for us, Carl was meticulously detailed. He kept track of every death.”
“I thought saying his name was banned?” Franz asked.
“It is, but I can bend the rules.” Hermann quickly said. “So as a result, we managed to reunite the father and his daughters. They were lucky to only have one death in the family, that didn’t happen often. Do any of you have family members they don’t know about? Do you wish to know their fate? It’s all on the computer. Although I must say, the odds are not in your favor.” He stated, pointing at his desk.
“No.” Agnes hissed.
Veronica shook her head. “I do not care for my biological parents.”
“I… I do.” Franz said.
The Marshal’s head turned toward Jasmine. Her mind was racing. Should she say yes? Was it ok to set herself up for disappointment? She had been separated from her mother when she was ten, so technically her fate was still unknown. Deep down, however, Jasmine knew her mother was dead.
Or maybe she wasn’t.
“I have someone. My mother— I’m not sure if she died.”
The Marshal made his way to his desk and started typing.
“Wait, already? Don’t we get…” Jasmine trailed off. Her heart was beating hard against her chest.
“No time like the present. I’d say it’s better to rip it off like a bandaid. Who’s going first? Jasmine or Franz?” He asked.
The two metahumans looked at each other, eyes wide. Jasmine could tell they were both thinking the same thing.
You go first. I’m not ready.
Jasmine saw Franz beg with his eyes. She bit her lip and took a deep breath.
“I’ll go first.” She said, sounding more confident than she actually was.
“I must reiterate that this is only for family members. First and last name? A middle name would also help.” The Marshal asked.
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“Sascha Mertz. I don’t know her middle name.”
Marshal Gessner typed away, each click taking an eternity. It was as if time itself was elastic and stretched, giving Jasmine a chance to brace herself for impact.
“Sascha Mertz… dead. She died in eighteen sixty-seven in camp Semhausen. My condolences.”
Jasmine stood there, completely still. Then the tears came, first a few, and then a deluge streaming down her face. She sobbed silently for minutes as Agnes stood next to her, hand in hers. She stroked her hair and waited for the tears to stop.
“H—how did she die? Does it track that?” Jasmine asked, still sobbing.
“It does. She was shot by firing squad, along with a dozen other people. I’m sorry.”
Jasmine sniffed. It was silly, really. She had already known that her mother was dead, but to see a glimmer of hope get crushed in so little time… it hurt. Her grief was causing her physical pain as if someone was stabbing her over and over.
“Franz, your turn. First and last name? Unless you changed your mind.” Hermann Gessner asked.
“It’s for my baby sister. Uhm, Ria Thomas.” He said.
Hermann typed again, and he smiled.
“Congratulations, Franz, your sister’s alive! I’ll have someone on the case right away.”
Jasmine did not hear the rest— sound and time were a blur. Franz and Jasmine were both crying of course, but one was crying tears of relief and happiness, and one was crying tears of sadness.
And Jasmine was feeling jealous. Thoughts she had never imagined before snuck into her mind. Why had Franz’s sister lived and her mother had not? Why couldn’t it have been his sister instead? Why couldn’t they both have died? All the girl wanted was to lock herself in a room— any room and let it all out. Unfortunately, Marshal Gessner had other plans.
After completing her tear-stained form and handing them to Hermann, he clasped her hands.
“I know you need time to mourn, Jasmine. You are incredibly strong for simply being here, but I need you to be strong. For them.” He said, pointing out of a window toward the city. “I’ll set you up with a TIA agent to introduce you to how we operate. Everything should already be prepared, but I’ll give you a small break… one hour should be enough.”
“Hold on. When can I expect to see my sister again?” Franz asked.
“Soon, maybe tomorrow if I make it a priority and I get her on a flight.” Hermann said. “But I’ll have to send an agent— and we’re already overextended as it is, so maybe in two days?”
“Thank you. Thank you so much for this, I— I don’t know how to repay you.”
“Just work with us, and we’ll call it even.” He replied with a smile. “Dennis, show the metahumans to their rooms!” He yelled out.
An agent— one of the men that had driven them here opened the door and waited.
“I thought you sent them away?” Veronica said.
“I needed insurance. It could have been a trick, but there will be less paranoia from me if you cooperate for long enough. You have all been doing a fantastic job so far.”
Three of them nodded. Jasmine just stood there. She was led by Agnes upstairs into the rooms. They were actual rooms, not cells like she had occupied in the Dillers research center. This was everything she had dreamed of for years. A warm bed, large enough for two. A bedside table, a non-obnoxious light. Damn it, she even had windows.
It still felt shallow. A piece of her was missing.
Agnes stood next to her, arms wrapped around her shoulder. She sat her on the bed, and she sunk into the mattress like it was made out of marshmallows. Jasmine voiced a small grunt of acknowledgment to thank her.
“I’m sorry, Jasmine. I— what can I do?”
Jasmine didn’t answer. Her voice couldn’t come out of her mouth.
“Talk to me. You did the same for me, remember? Back in that damn research center.”
No answer.
“I hate seeing you like this, Jasmine. I know it hurts, but… just vent to me. I’m— I’ll always be there for you.”
“...”
“I’m so happy I met you, you know that? I— you’re my best friend. The only friend I’ve ever had, really, if we don’t count Franz. You asked why I stayed back when we were thinking of leaving and now I can tell you. You’re fucking amazing, Jasmine, and I didn’t want to lose you. Not after meeting you and befriending you. I have nothing out there, you’re all I have. So I thought to myself, fuck it. I’ll stay, and if I die, I’ll have died side by side with you.”
Jasmine looked at her, making eye contact.
“You look terrible.” Agnes said. That got a tiny chuckle. “I don’t know how it feels to have your hopes so quickly dashed, but I want for you to talk to me.”
“She was my best friend. My mom.” Jasmine whimpered.
Agnes stayed still, stroking her back.
“It was always me and her. My dad left her during the pregnancy— I guess he’s dead too, I didn’t… want to ask, and I honestly don’t care. Is that evil?”
“Fuck him. You deserve better.”
“Mom raised me by herself. She worked multiple jobs for terrible pay, and she’d always get fired for any misdemeanor because she was a metahuman. I remember how sad and worried she looked every time she lost her job… I didn’t worry about it at the time, but it eats me inside, seeing her face. Sometimes I wonder if she could have had a better life without me— or what remained of it I guess.”
“Your mother loved you, Jasmine.”
“I don’t doubt that. She said it to me every night before I slept, along with a kiss on my cheek. Our building wasn’t insulated properly, so we’d snuggle together during winter. Mom would tell me stories about when she was younger.”
“Do you want to talk about it? The stories?”
“I could. I don’t want to.” Jasmine said.
“I understand, darling. Come here, give me a hug.”
Jasmine buried her head in her friend’s chest, sobbing silently. The tears had stopped but the pain hadn’t. The worst part was that there was no one to redirect her anger and sadness toward. King Carl had already been tried and executed, along with his cronies that didn’t flee the country. The rest laid there, out of reach, all around the Earth, unpunished. The fight was already over, her people had already been avenged.
But then it dawned on her. Maybe, just maybe, it was possible to find the remaining rot. They were free and spreading their ideas again like cancer. Other countries called them political refugees instead of what they really were: racist psychopaths that wanted to extinguish millions of lives for a lie. Jasmine’s stomach lurched as a memory flashed in her head— her times at the camp.
The things she’d had to do to live.
The things they did to her in exchange for her miserable life— all for the sake of survival.
A flame she never knew existed ignited at the very core of her being. The tears stopped, and sadness turned into resolve. Jasmine knew what she would have to do, what she would devote her life toward.
She would have her revenge.
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