Season 1, Episode 4 - The Microwave XXIX - "Defense Plan Lilu"

No time to run. Several Staties were already advancing across the field, clad in their black suits, Tommy Guns pointed at the kids.

Since there was no escape, Esther went to step in front of Audrey, but Audrey had already stepped in front of her, shielding her sister’s body with her own. But then Reed stepped in front of her, shielding her friend’s body with her own. But then Isaac stepped in front of her, shielding his Reed’s body with his own. Thus, the four now faced the Staties in a vertical line, and their intrepid attempts to protect each other were outmaneuvered when the officers simply approached them from the side.

The four kids faced the four State Police officers horizontally now, similar to a pair of battleships about to fire broadsides at each other. Each State Police officer had their corresponding target in the sight of their guns, their eyes hidden by the shade of their fedoras.

Each side stared each other down. The sun set behind the kids, adding an orange glow to the whole scene.

A fifth officer then arrived, clad in the same black suit and fedora, with a thin, black mustache stretching over his mouth. He was taller than the others and seemed to be in charge of them. Or maybe, judging from the way he walked, he seemed to be in charge of the whole situation, the kids’ lives in the palm of his hand, which was now reaching into his coat pocket.

He produced a packet of cigarettes, grabbing one to place between his teeth. He flicked open a lighter, a small flame now protruding from the end. He took a long inhale, seeming to savor the moment, the sunset, then got down to business.

“I am Colonel Ryan Symanski,” he introduced himself, his voice firm with a touch of arrogance to it. “I am in overall command of the justice we have delivered to your district. In the past hour, my men and I have sundered your sense of security, torched your symbols of luxury, shot eleven enemies of the state, including that dear Professor Beskov of yours, and found direct evidence of widespread usage of illegal New York contraband.”

The four kids managed to glance at each other, nervousness appearing in their eyes.

He grinned, then stepped in between his men. “But the biggest prize of all is before my very eyes. Just as my intelligence told me, the Domino Sword is ripe for the taking, in the possession of a small boy.”

Only that last part shook Reed. Her look of defiance turned into a look of deflation. “...boy?”

“What do you want with the Sword?” Isaac asked, making his voice sound as serious as he could, despite the rising worry in him.

Symanski had a look of mute surprise on his face. “Nobody ever told you what that sword was made of?”

Isaac looked at Reed.

“...I never asked,” she admitted.

Symanski chuckled. “You have a sword, black as night, filled with a rainbow of esoteric colors, and you never thought to ask?”

Reed started to simmer. “You are seriously pissing me off right now.”

Symanski let out another stream of smoke. “Apologies. People tell me I can be rough around the edges. Simply give me the sword, and I’ll be on my way.”

Reed eyed the officer in front of her, the way he seemed to show no sign of fear of facing a Rddhi user. She started to sweat. “You got a snowball’s chance in hell.”

Symanski shrugged. “That works just as well. We can just take you all, then. After all-”

Symanski gestured at the destroyed remains of the park. “On our way over, we happened to see the aftermath of using illegal contraband. I don’t need a reason to apprehend you, I simply can, but this is more than enough reason.” He gazed at the skyline of Elizabeth Pond. “And God knows Oswald can use the bodies. He runs through them quicker than I can produce them. And to think the Chief made me work with him and his Rddhi dogs on this operation...despicable.”

The colonel shook his head. “But that’s just life. Orders are orders. Either hand over the sword, or none of you will ever see the light of day again.”

Isaac took a deep breath of focus, then let the Rddhi charge up his arms, because if he was going down, he was going down swinging-

Audrey interjected. She took a fearless step forward; several guns were now pointed at her. She raised her hands defensively. “You guys...I think everyone here would come down on the side of not getting shot to death. Or getting punched and swordchopped and, uh, vine-growthed to death.”

She gave the Colonel a wide, genuine smile, full of that Audrey warmth. “We’re all New Englanders here! There’s no need to fight. I believe everyone is nice at heart, and we can all get along, and there’s no need to fight each other! We can solve this-”

Symanski back-handed her across the face. Blood splattered out of her nose and she stumbled away.

Things moved fast.

Reed unsheathed her sword and sent an iajutsu sound wave at her corresponding officer, knocking him away, his gun firing aimlessly into the air. She then felt the crushing grip of two officers forcing her to the ground, her face smashing into the dirt. She tried to bounce a sound wave off the ground, but an officer stepped on her arm.

An officer on her back received a fistful of Rddhi to the face, courtesy of Isaac, but that first officer, despite receiving a sound wave to the body, tackled Isaac’s back, forcing him to the ground as well. Isaac squirmed beneath him.

“No way! You’re not just gonna kidnap us like this! We’re not gonna lose-”

Symanski kicked him across the face. Isaac saw stars, then his head collapsed to the ground, out cold.

“Sweet dreams,” Symanski offered. He looked over the scene – an officer pinned each Rddhi user to the ground. His last opponent still stood upright, but an officer had her long hair in his grasp, a gun jammed below her chin.

Symanski knelt in front of Reed, an officer firmly planting her face into the dirt. Symanski waved him to let go, then grabbed her hair and pulled her head up, forcing her to look at his smile.

“I know how you Rddhi types do things,” he said. “Rddhi user vs Rddhi user, a clash of ideals in the form of a drawn-out duel. We don’t do that here. There are no clash of ideals in a fight against the State Police because there is only the State Police. There are no ideals because our truth is the truth, and all others are blasphemies and rebellions. Once the President dies, the State Police will become all. We will become society itself.”

Reed stared at him defiantly. “You think we’ll just sit back and let that happen?”

Smoke trailed from his cigarette. “No. I don’t think that at all. I expect there to be a competition, a war for the survival of the fittest – you mutants versus us humans. The strongest will win, which means that we will win. And because the State Police is truth and justice, that means truth and justice will prevail as well.”

Symanski took a long look at her and slightly tilted his head. “If I squint my eyes at just the right angle, you really do look like a Reed. Your family connections won’t save you. I’ve heard what happened. A father writing off his own daughter.”

He stood back up. “It’s a shame. A real shame. No father should ever write off his daughter.”

Reed narrowed her eyes, unsure if she was more angry about what the colonel just did to her friends or the pity he currently seemed to display for her.

Symanski looked at the destroyed playground. “Everything I do is for my daughter and her future. I want to have a good one, governed by the pure, not subject to Rddhi corruption.”

Reed then realized something, and this part hurt most of all.

“So...you knew I was a girl this whole time!”

Reed struggled against the officer keeping her down, but then Symanski kicked her across the face. Reed saw some stars of her own, then her body went limp as her face fell to the dirt.

A job well done, Symanski reached down to grab the Domino Sword, still in her hand, but then-

His hand stopped right before he reached it, and then he jumped backwards, the cigarette almost falling from his mouth. Several vines exploded out from the ground, reaching for him – but he was just beyond the edge of their range.

Symanski composed himself, watching in amusement as the vines reached out for him, flailing around in desperation.

One hit to the face courtesy of a rifle butt later, the vines collapsed to the grass.

“Thanks for saving me the trouble,” Symanski said to the officer kneeling on the now-unconscious Audrey’s back. “Wasn’t trying to kick too many people today. Yesterday was leg day, after all.”

Symanski laughed at his own joke – well, yesterday really was leg day – then resumed the task at hand. He approached the sword-

“That’s enough.”

Symanski raised an eyebrow in surprise at the source of the voice, the only kid left standing. “And who might you be?”

He stepped over the fallen bodies, then closely examined her face. “I can’t sense any Rddhi on you. Oh, don’t go and think that means I’m a Rddhi myself. I’ve just shot enough of them that I can sense a feeling in the air when they’re around. The laws of reality, the ones you take for granted...when you don’t take them for granted, and make an effort to notice them, then you start to understand the slight bend in the world around you whenever you’re near a Rddhi user.”

“I know that,” Esther answered firmly. Her eyes were focused, and she kept her composure even as the other officer's grip on her hair tightened.

Symanski smiled. “I think I like you. You should never assume, so I’m instead going to make the educated guess that you attend the Academy. No, that wouldn’t be enough. You must have studied reality so intensely that you can tell when something’s amiss...so, you’re a researcher.”

Esther grimaced as Symanski replaced the gun barrel below her chin with his own hand, cupping her face. “Then tell me – do you know what that sword’s made of? Do you know its value? And as a fellow human, do you understand why we can’t allow material like that to remain in the hands of the Rddhis?”

Esther stared defiantly at him. “Before today, I felt the same way as you. Rddhi users. I didn’t see them as humans. Just as valuable sources of information. Not people, but something to be studied. But then...”

She looked at her unconscious sister. “Rddhi users, they’re just like us. They have hearts, brains, and souls, just like we do. And most importantly, they're capable of loving us, just as we can love them. They look out for us, make sure we’re okay. They make sacrifices for us. They're human, too. Until today, I overlooked those sort of feelings my whole life.”

Her voice rose. “That’s my sister you’ve hurt. My older sister. I look her up to her more than anyone else in the world. She’s shown and taught me so many things. I wouldn’t be here today without her. Sometimes we fight, but that’s what siblings do. She always means well and I’ve always been getting too upset over nothing. I would keep apologizing for my whole life over the way I’ve treated her, but she’s the kind of person who would stop me after the first one, perhaps even before that. I’m not letting you take her from me.”

Symanski shrugged. “I told you, I don’t handle clashes of ideals. We don’t need her, we just need the sword. Or I can knock you out as well, so I don’t have to listen to any more speeches the whole way over to Oswald’s laboratory.”

“You’re not taking any of us,” Esther declared. “Because I’m their friend, and they’re all my friends. They all have something they’re reaching for, and nobody’s going to stop that.” She thought about it. “Well, um, I believe they do, at least...”

The passion returned in her voice. “You won’t be taking anybody. According to the Pond Act, all Rddhi districts have complete policing authority over themselves. You have no justification to seize us.”

“I don’t need justification,” Symanski corrected. “Because the State Police are truth and justice, and the truth and justice of the matter right now is-”

“Enough of that!” Esther interrupted. “You have around five minutes to leave the district before the Academy reaches Phase III of Internal Defense Plan Lilu.”

Symanski guffawed. “Am I supposed to be scared of that? Judging by the state of the city, Phases I and II didn’t go so well.”

“Phase III is the only one that matters,” Esther countered. “We believe a raid by the State Police would have to be a quick hit-and-run mission to avoid a protracted fight with an overwhelming amount of concentrated Rddhi users. Do you think your five men can take on a hundred Rddhi users called to arms? We’re within our legal right to destroy you and our men. And do you think Mr. Stockham is a man of mercy?”

Symanski’s eyes darkened.

He recalled a moment in the midst of the First American War, more than sixteen years ago. Back then, instead of his Tommy Gun, he wielded a bolt-action rifle; instead of his black suit, he donned a mottled camouflage-colored, muddy uniform; instead of his fedora, he wore a demonic-looking gas mask around his head.

As his platoon arrived in a particular New York village, Symanski couldn’t decide what smelled the worst: the garlic odor of mustard gas that seemed glued to the village despite the disappearance of the cloud, the urine-soaked rags he had tied around his belt in case his gas mask failed him, or the sweet, sickly stench of the dead that littered the now-uninhabited village.

Having been part of the unit that fired the gas into the village, Symanski knew that the corpses there only rendered a small fraction of its former population. The majority of the villagers probably left, many suffering from blindness, blisters, and burns, once the shelling let up and the oily-yellow gas slowly drifted out of their canisters and into the village, covering it in a somber cloud.

By the time Symanski’s unit had arrived, the cloud had disappeared, but the effects of the gas would contaminate the town’s ground and surfaces for months. All part of the plan, of course.

Symanski kicked down to a door to a hut, his gun raised, ready for any survivors. All he found inside was a small kitchen, plates and pans still on the table, its owners probably having left the hut in a hurry.

He saw something peculiar; he knelt down and picked up a small doll. The doll wore a smile, its straw-hair fraying.

This village was one of hundreds. All part of the plan. Operation Namtar was the brainchild of the War Plans Office, Experimental Technology Division. The goal? The mass usage of mustard gas and other chemical weapons on New York villages behind the lines, forcing evacuations and the creation of a widespread refugee crisis that would clog up New York’s logistical network.

A number of faceless bureaucrats were behind the decision. But one of them did have a face, and it stuck out to Symanski in the present, as he stood in that man’s park, in that man’s district.

Symanski looked at Esther and understood. “He’s not a man of mercy,” he admitted.

“You won’t make it to the border before our users assemble,” Esther continued. “When they stop you, if they see any of us with you, or even just the Domino Sword, your life is forfeit. If you’re on your own, you might have a chance to escape.”

Symanski looked at Esther, the fearless look in her eyes. He felt the sunset on him, and he thought of his daughter.

“The day’s coming when we’ll deal with your district and the Rddhis.” The colonel turned to his men. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” He threw down his cigarette and crushed it with his boot before walking off, his soldiers following.

Esther kept a strong face as they all got back into the van, pulled out of the parking lot, and disappeared around a corner. Finally, when it was clear they weren’t coming back, Esther let out a long sigh and collapsed, her legs trembling as she sat on the ground.