Season 1, Episode 4 - The Microwave XXI - "Hummingbird"

In the Academy parking lot, Ms. Mogami, followed by Mr. Shokahu, Kelb, and Dimitrij, pointed to her black Model Litoral car and spun the keys around her finger. “Everybody, hop in! Frank, you can get shotgun, while you two MPs take the back.”

The two MPs nodded, though they did notice Shokahu looking a little green after hearing Mogami’s words.

Thirty seconds later, they figured out why. Once everyone sat down in their car seats, Mogami threw on a pair of shades, turned the radio on high, then peeled out of her spot. And by peeled out, what she really did was slam down on the gas pedal and back her car up at around 40 MPH across the parking lot before spinning it right around at the exit.

“Oh, shoot, forgot to put the emergency brake down,” Mogami realized with a laugh, not for the first time in her history of driving. The other three were too dizzy to do anything but nod in agreement. After looking down the street one way, Mogami peeled out of the school lot, then remembered to look the other way. Fortunately, no cars were coming, so on they went, quickly passing below the elevated rail of Tsukishima Station as they drove down one of the main avenues of the Pond.

“Two-lane avenues at my least favorite place to drive,” Mogami shouted over the big band rock on the radio, her hair blowing in the breeze as they passed by rows of multi-story buildings and apartment complexes. “Many people think highway, but c’mon! The two-lane avenue is much more packed together than a highway. Highways are open roads, and merging isn’t even that bad once you get the hang of it. But the two-lane avenue? Switching lanes is a nightmare, and you really gotta keep your focus, ‘cuz your turn could always come out of nowhere-”

Mogami yanked the wheel to the right, cutting across the lane next to her so she could turn down a street. As the car went down the road, everyone could hear cars beeping at them in the distance, perhaps even a few swears yelled out.

“See what I mean?” Mogami asked, her voice carefree, gesturing with one arm hanging out her window. “And don’t even get me started on when one of the lanes turns into a turn-only lane without any previous warning...”

Dimitrij cradled the radio like a security blanket while Kelb regretted eating such a big lunch. Shokahu used his meditative techniques that he developed in the trenches of the First American War to keep himself mellow.

Mogami arrived at a large intersection that fell under the shadow of an elevated highway. She blinked at the sight in front of her. “What’s going on? Traffic looks gridlocked. And on a Sunday?”

Indeed, the intersection in front of them was currently a mess. As the traffic light switched to red, multiple cars got stuck in the middle of the intersection, slowing everything to a halt. The drivers behind their wheels beeped wildly at each other, and then, perhaps more alarmingly, the four saw dozens of pedestrians sprint away on the sidewalks, their faces full of fear.

“Stay in the car,” Shokahu ordered. He stepped out and noticed that the people were sprinting in a general direction; westward, away from the center of Elizabeth Pond and its department stores. Shokahu heard distant sounds of screaming, and then several pedestrians flinched as gunshots erupted from somewhere further down the avenue rang out, but that only made Shokahu pick up his pace.

By the time he crossed the intersection and arrived on the sidewalk on the other side, he could see smoke and fire in the distance. He squinted his eyes.

From the Cabot Shopping Center?

Shokahu took a deep breath. A fire at the mall, no doubt crowded by weekend visitors, could put hundreds of innocents at risk.

We need to get there. Fast.

Fortunately, Mogami is good at getting places fast...though perhaps her driving might put just as many people at risk.

No time for jokes. Let’s get a move on.

“Shokahu!”

A small, balding man in an apron suddenly held Shokahu’s hands in his own. Shokahu looked at him dryly.

“It’s me!” the man proclaimed. “Pavel!”

Shokahu’s expression didn’t change, though impatience was building up beneath it.

“Don’t you remember?” Pavel exclaimed. “I ran the Zrucnasc up near Kanakana Station, the one that had the rat problem? When the authorities shut me down and my wife left me and I got that bad rash, you were the only to help me, remember? Not with the rash but with the whole getting my life back together again thing!”

Shokahu had a vague memory of running into a drunken Pavel on the streets one night, getting him home, and telling him about a deli that was looking for help.

Pavel – and with his hands still held, Shokahu as well – stood still as more and more pedestrians sprinted past them, carrying screams and cries with them as they went. “I started at that deli last month! Look!” Pavel took his hands off of Shokahu’s to hold up his apron proudly. Shokahu then looked at his own hands and saw residue and remnants of reddish deli meat.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Pavel exclaimed. “Well, don’t eat it, since it’s raw, but feel free to cook it at your place.”

“...I’ll keep that in mind.” Shokahu’s expression grew serious. “There are people in trouble right now, Pavel. Unless you know what happened there, we’ll have to meet up again some other time.”

Pavel remembered that he was sprinting away from something. “Yes, I know what the trouble is.”His warm demeanor vanished, replaced with a trembling look on his face. “It’s the Staties, Shokahu. They’re here.”

Shokahu swallowed. If anyone sees someone from the Academy looking worried...

He kept his voice even. “The State Police, you said?”

Pavel nodded and pointed back down the street, towards the rising smoke. “The deli is halfway between here and Cabot Center. I was working my shift, just like usual, when we saw one pedestrian sprint past the window, away from the center, then another, and then another, until dozens and dozens of people came past, crying, sobbing, screaming. One of them came inside the deli. ‘The Staties,’ was all he said before he resumed his sprinting.”

Pavel wiped his sweating brow, talking louder so Shokahu could hear him over the screams and chaos around them. “The customers in the store all immediately bolted, and I don’t blame them. The boss and I left just as quickly as I did. We didn’t even wait around to lock out, though perhaps we should have...”

Shokahu frowned. “What are they doing now?”

Pavel started breathing heavily. “The boss sprinted away down side streets, while I stuck to the avenue. I turned around, and I was close enough to see the Staties at their work. You hear the stories...men in black suits and fedoras...armed with Tommy Guns...all of it’s true.” Pavel waved his arms around. “They set fire to the Shopping Center! Then they started working their way down the avenue, shooting into storefronts, robbing the place, then torching those buildings as well! Last I saw, they were about to do the same to a jewelry store next to the deli!”

Pavel let out a long sigh. “And to think, I was just about to finish a rib...”

Shokahu gazed at the horizon, where the a calm sky met a chaotic street; beyond it was the State Police. He knew what he needed to do.

Shokahu placed a firm hand on Pavel's shoulder. “I’ll go take care of it. And I’ll keep your rib safe too.”

Pavel grabbed Shokahu’s hands with his (unwashed) own once again. “Thank you, thank you, Shokahu!”

“Get yourself somewhere safe,” Shokahu told him sternly, but from a place of caring.

Pavel nodded. “Don’t worry, I know of a bar! I’ll pray to your success and the safety of everyone!”

With that, Pavel sprinted off down the street in the opposite direction of the fire, gunshots, and smoke, joining the large mass of people moving that way.

Shokahu steeled himself and returned to the car. “Staties down the avenue,” he simply said, climbing back into his seat. “Step on it, Mogami.”

“Staties-” Kelb went to question, but the sudden acceleration pushed him back deep into his seat.

Mogami deftly avoided two cars and steered the Litoral down a side street. She then swerved back out onto another avenue, ignoring the speed limit in her quest to get them there as quickly as possible.

Nobody had time to feel sick. Dimitrij spun several dials on his radio, until nodding in relief. He held the receiver out in front of him. “Sir, we got Lieutenant Colombo on the line.”

Shokahu took over. He’s the officer for the 14th Military District guarding the border. We’ve worked well together in the past in clearing out the sewers and ending the smuggling ring. Hopefully, they’ll help us out once again.

“Colombo, close the border crossing,” he ordered.

A sympathetic-sounding voice came through the static. “Sorry, Shokahu...but my hands are tied.”

Shokahu narrowed his eyes. “What? Who tied your hands?”

“Well, nobody did, it’s a metaphor-”

“I know it’s a metaphor,” Shokahu impatiently interrupted. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “What I want to know is why you can’t do anything.”

“Orders all the way from the top,” Colombo answered. “Presidential General Headquarters. Dietrich himself.”

Shokahu gritted his teeth. General Otto Dietrich held the highest army office in all of New England – Secretary of War. Along with his counterparts in the New England Navy and Air Force, Dietrich formed the trifecta that led Presidential General Headquarters, which oversaw the New England Armed Forces. This also placed him as a Cabinet member of the Presidential Administration, and a powerful one at that. Only a few men could overturn his orders, and Shokahu knew that help from either President Pulaski or Chief Amien of the State Police wasn’t very likely at the moment.

“That means Military Police too, right?” Shokahu asked, already knowing the answer.

“Unfortunately, it does,” Colombo confirmed. Shokahu could hear the lieutenant sigh. “The State Police likely planned this in advance with Dietrich. Those State Police officers running around right now? We didn’t let them in, they must’ve come through the tunnels or something. But then we got a call from Headquarters telling us to let the State Police officers back out. We told the Colonel about it, but even he didn’t understand, and then the first group of Staties showed up in a white van, ordering us to let them through.” Colombo sighed. “We had no choice.”

Shokahu took even breathes through his nose. “How many did you let through?”

“Loper, Axelman! Get some more gauze over to the medical tent!" Colombo barked out, presumably to his own soldiers. "Sorry about that. Only a few. Based on the info coming in, there’s probably more than a handful still roaming the Pond. We’ve been calls about the fires at Cabot and several burglaries and robberies. It seems like they’re not deliberately targeting people – though there’s been plenty of people harmed indirectly – except for a shooting up at a café near Matsuzaki Station and a gunfight near the Dunn Electric Factory.”

“They really want to send a message,” Shokahu supposed. “Does Vanderbilt know?”

“He’s already at Presidential General Headquarters,” Colombo explained. “The Colonel likes you guys, so when he got the news, he immediately drove off to get answers.”

“I think I already know them,” Shokahu said. “Thanks, lieutenant. Sit tight for now.”

Colombo sounded tired. “We've tried to keep the chaos around the border to a minimum, and we've been delivering all the medical aid we can, but...it feels like sitting tight is all we really can do. Sorry, Shokahu. Over and out.”

The radio went quiet. Shokahu handed it back to Dimitrij and slumped in his seat.

“Aw, Frank, it’s alright,” Mogami said, her voice smooth. She reached her hand down to pat him on the thigh, but she immediately brought it back to the wheel to cut across traffic and head down a side street, back to the original avenue. “Hehe, my bad.”

“What happened?” Kelb asked, not liking the look on Shokahu’s face.

“Both the army and the Military Police have their hands tied,” Shokahu said plainly. “Nothing they can do. Dietrich ordered them to stand down.”

“Dietrich?” Kelb crossed his arms. “That isn’t right. We worked so well with you guys busting the smuggling ring.”

“That’s probably part of the reason,” Shokahu supposed. “Dietrich probably wants to make sure Stockham doesn’t get any ideas about who the military is loyal to. They’re not loyal to either Stockham or the State Police. They’re loyal to themselves and whoever controls the country’s budget. Colombo said this was preplanned between Chief Amien of the State Police and Dietrich.”

“Why’s that?” Kelb asked.

“Dietrich asserting his authority over his own troops is one thing. But the bigger picture is about Amien.” Shokahu exhaled as Mogami weaved the car through traffic. “This whole thing’s about power, right? Both literally and metaphorically. Amien is the one negotiating with Stockham about supplying power to the Pond for the winter. But Amien runs the State Police, so why is he the one telling Stockham about the nation’s energy supply?”

“He’s consolidating his power,” Dimitrij supposed.

Shokahu nodded. “The Presidential Administration used to divide authority roughly equally among the Cabinet, with Pulaski at the top. But now...Amien is tightening his grip on the nation’s controls. It’s not that far-fetched to say he’ll be the one authorizing the budget soon. And there’s no doubt he’ll be offering the military a raise.”

Kelb shook his head. “What are we supposed to do now?”

Shokahu looked into the distance through the windshield. “Unfortunately, you two in the back can’t do anything except help any wounded civilians we come across with Mogami. As for myself...neither Amien nor Dietrich has any authority over me.”

There. Shokahu squinted his eyes and saw a parked white van down the avenue. Next to the van, in the center of a row of brick shops, stood the jewelry store Pavel spoke of, its windows smashed and awning tattered. Shokahu saw State Police officers filing out the front door, burlap sacks filled with jewelry hoisted around their black-suited shoulders.

Shokahu unbuckled himself and leaned his upper body out of the passenger door window, praying that Mogami would keep the car steady.

He closed his eyes and breathed steadily. The two Military Policemen watched in amazement as calm red sparks drifted through Shokahu’s body.

Shokahu eyed the van.

“Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit...Dragon!”

Out from his hand came a solid beam of red Rddhi energy. It zipped down the street, connecting with the van-

The explosion appeared as high as the nearby elevated rail.