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Ha Ha!



A few people have 'axed me "Max, why the long winded
BS before every chapter?" "Well," I say, "the city
is a complicated place which represents the merging
of many kinds of ideas on how a 'rock in the ocean
of chaos' ought be run and maintained. So dont take 
it too literally, but keep in mind that
Screw is being forced through this againt his will too,
and often reacts the same way you would." Well that's
what I should have said anyway.







   "Knock me down, I'll just come back running.
    Knock you down, it wont be long now.
    All the way in... All the way in... All the way!

                -Maynard James Keenan 





sorry, one more quote before we get going:






     "Back after 80 years for no good 
      reason except they taste good." (sic)

	-written on every pack of Kamel Red's

    




    6

  Malte said, 'We are the last remaining opportunists.' He 
lived more than a hundred and fifty years ago, but I don't think 
things were very different back then. Human thought was 
beginning to take its final turn, down a road of calculated apathy. 
Animals are opportunists, blindly taking what they can. Man was 
the first being able to choose to disobey his desires and exercise a 
little self consciousness. 

  The problem with Malte was that he also believed political 
protest to be kowtowing to the Mandate's established system of 
government. Being only a writer and philosopher with friends of 
the same calling, he realized himself incapable of physical action. 
And so Malte died unhappy and poor; a mountain of a mind, but a 
mole hill of a man. 

  Life is random because life is all context, and context is 
random. Man must respect this or pay history dearly for it.

  This was how my father had explained it when I was very 
young, and I never doubted his words even after Mom died, and he 
left me. People like Malte were wasted talent; too full of fear to do 
anything about it. In my life right now, the choices that would 
determine my place along that line were being put to me in a way 
that allowed for no indecision. The old woman seemed to be fully 
aware of this.

  "How is your head today, Screw?"

  "Just fine."

  "I see you and Alie found each other. That's excellent. 
Why don't you come sit down over here?"

  There was a pristine white loveseat against the far wall in 
the laboratory. The room itself was huge, and no doubt took up 
most of the floor in this building. Upon entering, I immediately 
noticed that the whole lab reminded me much of the basement 
room in Wells' house. There were hundreds of large machines, and 
all of them looked a little familiar. Tall cylinders spinning silently, 
wrap around computer screens which could enclose a person's 
whole upper half. I began to think that maybe I had seen some of 
them in other places, years ago, but I drew a blank on where. There 
were chairs that were clearly for surgery patients, and white cots 
which were all empty. It was the virginal cousin to the disease 
ridden rat lab of the late Dr. Wells.

  The old woman was alone in the room as Chris had said she 
would be. I was pretty sure that she was one of the dozen or so 
women from last night's meeting, but I couldn't match her face to 
a single one. She wore a slight smile as she watched Alethea and I 
sit down together, and it was almost fond. Her hands folded in her 
lap.

  "So what did you want to see us about?" I finally asked.

  "Don't you want to know who I am, first?"

  "That too."

  "Alright." She sat down across from us. "I am Mrs. White, 
and the surrogate head of the Cabal. Twelve other members and 
myself entirely make up the organization, and this building is our 
head of operations. Your friend Christopher Dais is our newest 
allocation. He rounds out our number in terms of bringing us the 
full attention of our peers." She smiled. "But in addition to our 
underground insurrectionist work, we pull several billion dollars a 
year in legitimate business. Consulting, mostly. To our current 
knowledge, the Mandate does not know Eichenger Industries is in 
any way involved with Das Uberdog or other illegal gangs. 
Unavoidably, that will soon change, of course."

  "Excuse me, I have a question. Just how old are you?"

  "Screw!" said Alethea. 

  "Hey wait," I interrupted. "I never asked you before. How 
do you and her even know each other?"

  All three of us exchanged quick glances.

  "I took Alethea in a month ago, shortly after she ran away 
from home. The city is certainly no place for young girls to be 
wandering around alone. Unfortunately she couldn't find anyone 
more trustworthy than this 'Zig.'"

  "What's wrong with Zig?"

  "He deals drugs and weapons to anyone with the money."

  "He's still a nice guy, though. And have you tasted his 
barbecue ribs? I mean, really tasted them?"

  "I'm afraid not," she said. "It has been a long while since I 
have been out."

  I shrugged. "That's okay, I don't really get out much 
either."

  Alethea spoke up. "Mrs. White has a condition that requires 
her to stay near to the lab facility in this building. She has trouble 
with the city's atmosphere."

  "The atmosphere? What do you mean? I thought the reason 
all of this business was even starting was because the three of us 
were die hard believers in the city's unique atmosphere."

  "By atmosphere, I mean the air itself. It's a lung 
condition."

  But the old woman answered for herself. "No, you were 
partially right the first time. The city's atmosphere is very 
constricting as you both know. It is clogged and cramped because 
of the freedoms the Mandate withholds from us." She gestured 
toward a window, where the afternoon sun shone brightly over the 
skyscrapers. "Outside, the masses and multitudes are a drain on my 
whole condition and I rarely have the time or energy to deal with 
situations that aren't tailored for my own benefit. I am getting 
older you know and need consistent medical attention."

  With my mouth open a little I almost laughed. "But that's 
the art of it, isn't it? The art of finding enduring beauty and love in 
the machines? All the crime and hate and pollution forcing us to 
try harder? Making security out of that which oppresses us?"

  That must have got her, but if it did, she didn't show it. 

  "Mr. Screw, you don't realize who you are talking to. Underneath 
our quaint little exterior, the Cabal is the most secret group of 
insurrectionists the chaotic city streets have ever produced. And 
next Friday night, the Mandate will learn why."

  "How is that?"

  "A planned attack on several government facilities where 
we know members of the Mandate will be."

  "So you're a bunch of terrorists." I was feeling 
uncomfortable again and it was making me act like a prick.

  "Not a word I like to use," she replied, not missing a beat. 
"None of our targets have ever been civilian in nature. We have 
been responsible for the assassinations of seven Mandate head 
Directors, one a former Cardinal Doge, and countless underlings. 
Of course only those who we know to be responsible for crimes 
against humanity."

  "And there is no better way to make your point than by 
killing people? Anyone, really? Don't you think you are becoming 
a little like them?"

  "I am not like them!" she said, and stood up. The sudden 
raise of her voice startled us, and I looked up at the smaller woman 
with a little shock. "I hate doing this! They butcher innocent 
people for their own sick purposes, and frame insurrectionists for 
the grisly murders. They quench any public outcry, and imprison 
anyone who tries to speak their mind. I have killed, yes, but not 
murdered. The city has always shed those for whom there will be 
no other punishment. I have never hurt others purely for my own 
ends. When you have been around as long as I, Screw, then you 
can judge the morality of rebellion."

  Now I stood up. "Listen, lady. You can act as noble as you 
like. You can go to sleep every night thinking about what a great 
martyr you will make some day. But that kind of thing doesn't fly 
with me. Not here and now. You haven't solved anything! The 
Mandate is just as powerful as ever, and the citizens are still 
helpless to resist. For god's sake, they don't even want to resist 
anymore! You can't get people on your side by doing the very 
things their enemies do, no matter who the victims are.

  "If anything, you have made the situation worse. The 
Special Forces have been granted the search and seizure clause, 
and the papers say they are going to waive habeas corpus until they 
find the bastards who blew up the IMHR building. Martial Law is 
a single protest rally away. Thirteen god damn people can't even 
put a dent in Lanz Island, and trying to do so just gives them more 
reason to crack down on us even harder. If you think you can play 
hide and seek until the Mandate's spine cracks, lady you are fuckin 
nuts." I sat down in disgust. "And you can bet your last box of 
Depends that I ain't helping you do that shit, either."

  I got a little of the stunned silence I expected. Alethea 
seemed to be having a conflict of interest, and Mrs. White stared at 
me with a frown. My attitude just wasn't working for her.

  "Well Mr. Screw, I'd love to hear all your ideas," the old 
woman said at last. "We both agree that the balance of political 
power in this city is intolerable, that the city revolves around the 
Island and not the other way around. That's old news. Do you 
think things would have gotten like this if the legal ways of doing 
things worked? Grassroots campaigning? Labor strikes? Do the 
whole unionization thing they tried thirty years ago? Or maybe 
you'd like me to lay down on the parkway in front of a tank."

  "I'd understand," I said. "It worked for the Chinese."

  "We would have a Political Aberrancy charge shoved so far 
up our baby powdered asses that Sarah Wheeler herself couldn't 
get our faces on the air."

  Ha. A part of me had to respect that. The old woman had 
some fire. This must have been where Chris got all his propaganda.

  She continued. "Leave the real work to the professionals, 
Screw. I've been in this business since before you were born. We 
do what we have to do." She sighed and sat down on a cot near our 
couch. "And you don't seem to waste any time killing people when 
they come after you."

  "Oh, that's nonsense. Don't even try to compare self 
defense to whatever large scale coup you're planning. You know 
what, I believe Zig now. I don't think he had anything to do with 
the IMHR bomb. Was that you too?" I pressed. "Offing a few 
scientists to get rumors going?"

  The old woman was pursing her lips. "I know the toll. This 
one was an exception that none of us wanted."

  Alethea leaned forward, and said, "Why?!"

  "We really had no choice in the matter this time. Your 
friend Wells was tracking Screw, here. Had a bug implanted in his 
brain."

  "Bull fucking shit!" I said aloud.

  "But Screw killed Wells!" Alethea continued. "Why the 
bomb?"

  "Well, there was a transceiver he was using. It was in the 
building, somewhat important to him. If we could take the 
operation back we would, I won't lie to you. Tell me Screw, what 
happened to you when you were underground for all those years?"

  "I sat in a cell and rotted like everyone else," I said.

  "And?"

  "I remember there being a lot of 'group time.' Big 
cockroaches. And everyone agreed that the food was just 
unacceptable."

  "Anything else?" she asked, lowering her eyebrows.
I shook my head. "I learned how to speak prison lingo. 
Wanna hear some?"

  "No. Actually I was speaking more on the level of whether 
you dealt with the Warden."

  "God no. Quickest way to get shanked, even if you have 
people backing you. And believe me, Chris wouldn't have let me 
get away with that shit."

  "But I'm sure they offered a reduced sentence to you. In 
return for a little hypno training, maybe?"

  "Of course." I said. "But who wants to be operated on. The 
behavior correction tapes were bad enough. I told the Warden to 
shove it, and got two weeks in the hole. It was worth it. 
Regardless, I made it out intact. A lot of guys spent a lot of time 
regretting that they hadn't done the same. What were you saying 
about a bug in my brain?"

  "Screw, I have news for you. They hypno-trained you 
anyway."

  "What?"

  "Chris says that while the two of you were down there, 
Wells himself made a few appearances. It was under his direct 
orders that you were placed in the hole, and operated on."

  "Hold it. I was never touched in the head or anywhere else. 
I remember every second I was in that dark little hole: it was time 
directly deducted from my life span. And I never saw Wells there 
either. I have an excellent memory of faces."

  "But he was there, we know this now. The 'hole' you were 
put into was not just another tiny cell. It was the first makeshift 
merusion chamber, and as you would say, your brain got severely 
fucked with. Screw, believe it or not the power to use psionics is 
not completely latent. It is true that only about one percent of all 
people tested have any reaction to the merusion process, but 
without it, the capacity is of no value."

  "How do you know this?" I asked, now getting worried. 

  "Just how far back has this business gone?"

  "Listen. When Chris got out of prison more than a year 
after you, we contracted him to do some business for us. We 
realized that his extensive knowledge of underground politics 
could make him a vital asset to our organization. After a few more 
years, during which time he set up the partnership between the 
Cabal and Das Uberdog, we let him become a full member. It was 
not long after this that your situation was brought to our attention.

  "Wells and his man Weirham had planted a signal devise in 
the base of your skull before they released you from solitary 
confinement. By that time your subconscious had been subjected to 
so much merusion, that Chris tells me it would sometimes directly 
take control of your faculties, and you would enter a dream like 
state. This ring any bells?"

  (Shit, when she put it that way.) "How did you...?" I started.

  "Wells' only set back was that you did not mature nearly as 
fast as most. In fact you were so slow they thought they had found 
the first person immune to the process. We still don't know how 
they knew you would take to it at all, but they certainly had strong 
faith. Wells finally could not wait anymore for you to show signs 
of maturity, so he contacted your buddy Zig, and told him you 
were sick. Apparently Zig had been thinking along similar lines 
and took the bait. He gave you a transceiver-transformer to carry 
around which would take a single instant x-ray scan of your head 
and neck. A little black box, remember? Fortunately you saw 
Wells following you around, and ran before he could get any kind 
of precise information. It's good that they don't know how far 
you've come."

  For her at least, I thought.

  "This was when we decided to intervene directly. Chris 
kept an eye on you, and made sure Wells failed his mission. But 
you seemed to be able to take some care of yourself, and he stayed 
in the background. When you finally discovered that you could use 
the power, you wasted no time in crushing Wells. Chris was still in 
the picture, but we did not want Wells' superiors learning that the 
Cabal was in anyway involved, so he let you take care of Jinn and 
all the cleanup by yourself."

  "Jesus. They operated on me against my will, and you all 
stood around and waited to see how it turned out."

  "Not just watching. We blew up the IMHR building to 
destroy the transceiver-transformer, but also because the building 
itself was a target. You see, the worst thing about our situation is 
that the enemy has the backing of the government."

  "Rufius." I said.

  "Yes. Mr. White is a member of the Mandate, and the 
Director of the Institute of Mental Health Research. He now uses 
the whole organization primarily to develop increasingly effective 
machines which facilitate merusion. The employees are separated 
enough that they don't know what each other are doing. The press 
tried to expose their bad business practices, but that story never got 
far. And by that time Rufius had full control of Mr. White."

  "Is Rufius really out to destroy the city?"

  "We can only assume. Technological and biological 
superiority seem to be his current goals. But he is certainly against 
any rearrangement of central authority, and so he greatly crosses 
our line in the dirt. We don't know very much about his personal 
plans, but he looks to be even more of a problem than the Special 
Forces. Aside from you, Rufius is the only man we know of who 
can use psionics unaided."

  "Unaided?"

  "Sorry, there's a lot to explain. Most people who have fully 
matured do not possess brains capable of handling simultaneous 
conscious and subconscious thought at the level psionics require. 
Wells carried around several large batteries which were wired 
directly to his spinal cord. The extra voltage increased his thought 
frequency, and he was able to use a much higher percent of his 
capacity. I hate to say it, but the only reason you were able to beat 
him was because the myrrh probably ate right through his power 
supply. He was running at a fraction of his strength, and you 
defeated him in a battle of wills."

  I nodded reluctantly.

  "Chris tells me it was a hell of a sight," she said.

  Alethea shuddered next to me.

  Mrs. White had crossed the room and was standing next to 
a long gurney. "I hate to be the one to say it Screw, but you're 
fighting more of a losing battle than you think. The rumors about 
Rufius are true. His ability dwarfed Wells' and he uses no help. 
Weirham has spoken to me already."

  "But wait. We still don't know what he is planning to do! 
After Wells died, someone sent Guy Jinn after me too, and I gave 
him the same treatment. But I'm still the only one connected with 
the Cabal who Rufius has shown a serious desire to get a hold of. It 
is more than possible his plans don't involve your coup at all."

  The old woman turned away. "You raise the only point. But 
our fight is with the Mandate, and Rufius is a fully functioning 
member. The other thirty five old men are too. It is just that we 
cannot take any chances. When we finally make our move, I don't 
want him there putting ideas into anyone's head. This is why we 
wanted to get to you first. As of right now, the only two people left 
with the full maturity of psionic power are Rufius and White. It 
will take a third of their kind to make even the smallest stand."

  I was silent. 

  The old woman walked toward a low table and took a 
bottle of water from underneath it. She offered one to me, saying at 
least it wasn't from the tap. I declined.

  So there it was. She had finally made her request clear. 
Through whatever knowledge of the chambers she had, she would 
operate on me herself and let me do all the real fighting for her. In 
return I got the chance to stay alive if I succeeded. And maybe 
have some time to use the power for myself. There must have been 
a lot of desperation if the Cabal eventually decided to overstep its 
bounds this far. It was an honor depending on how I answered.

  Alethea had known this would happen too. Had she tried to 
warn me against the woman? I looked at that curiously old-
fashioned white hair. There was no doubt in my mind that the old 
bag was hiding something from me. Probably a hell of a lot. She 
had no connection with anyone I knew and therefore no real reason 
to make good on any of her promises. And yet that determined 
single-mindedness gave her credibility in other places. I would bet 
a lot that in the end, she would try to go down with her ideals.

  Hell, I had sort of known this was coming too.

  "You want me to be a martyr for someone else's cause." I 
said.

  "I know it's a lot to ask." She almost made it sound like she 
didn't want me to do it either. I didn't get her calmness after all the 
arguing. She couldn't think that it would push me any closer 
toward agreeing.

  I stood up and walked across the shiny white floor. The 
stark white lab interior was beginning to annoy me. All the 
conspiracy theories and government cover-ups I had dreamed up 
about my involvement in the Mandate's secret plans had been 
totally blown away. The real Mandate probably didn't even know I 
was alive. Outside the race track anyway. I sighed heavily. I 
needed to get out of there.

  "What's all this machinery for?" I asked tiredly.

  "It is the merusion equipment. We stole most of it from 
IMHR offices in the capital. We could use it to bring you to full 
maturity, or-"

  "And what does that mean?"

  "The full extent of your capacity for psionics will be 
realized. The power will be far stronger and clearer than you have 
ever experienced it before. It will respond to your thoughts the way 
your fingers do. You will fly without even knowing it."

  "And the catch?"

  "Well, Screw, my dear. I won't get into the ethics of it, so 
I'll put it this way. If you aren't able to handle the merusion 
process, your mind will either disintegrate, or split into a hundred 
different personalities. The personality you think of yourself as 
having may submerge indefinitely. That would be worst case, and 
is unlikely. But if it does work, and you are able to mature fully, 
the sky won't even be the limit."

  I looked at the small control panel. "How long will your 
whole operation take? The insurrection?"

  "About a week. Our part starts ten days from now, and 
Rufius' faction needs to be compromised beforehand. After that 
City Hall will be raped and a new governing council will be 
selected until a permanent system is voted on. Again, I know this 
puts a great, great burden on you, and I know the risks. You are 
our only chance."

  "Don't start on me with that crap. This is all your problem, 
not mine. I'm not gaining any satisfaction out of helping a dying 
cause. This is about me, not you, and I have that fully in mind."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Good."

  "I am serious. I am sorry."

  "I want some time to think."

  "Of course you may have it," She said to me, crossing the 
room. "But please hurry. The sooner we start, the more prepared 
you will be."

  I looked across the room at Alethea who had been silently 
listening from a chair. "Come on, lets go."

  Alethea stood up. "I was going to talk with Mrs. White for 
a little while longer, if you don't mind?"

  "Yes. We have some business of our own to discuss." This 
said by the old woman, who was starting to look not so old to me. 

  "Chris is in the basement speaking with some men from Das. He 
will show you where your motorcycle is."

  "Alright," I said. As I turned to leave for the door, I 
stopped and said, "Mr. and Mrs. White?"

  "Yes, it was true. A long time ago." She replied.

  "I'll see you tonight!" Alethea added in, sounding hopeful.

  "Yeah, catch you all later." I left.




-------------





  Before finding Chris many floors down, I remembered that 
I still had his cell phone from this morning. I decided to give Zig a 
call and let him know what was up. There was a nice wooden 
bench in the lavishly decorated hallway and I stopped to poke 
digits.

  It rang once.

  "Domino's. You smell it, we sell it."

  "Zig, it's me."

  "Screw! Where the fuck have you been?"

  "Hey, it's cool. I found Alethea, she's with me. We're over 
here at Chris's building on the east side. In the middle of Ventiss, 
from what I hear."

  "How did you end up there?" he asked.

  "Long story. Ran into a couple of Taurs last night, and 
Chris showed up to cover my ass. Turns out he's tight with that 
gang called 'Das Uberdog.' Anyway, his insurrectionist comrades 
who run under the name 'Cabal' own a posh sixty story building 
up here, and they're letting us stay."

  "My boys livin in style! When are you coming back?"

  "Well, you didn't hear it from me, but this weekend there's 
supposed to be a riot. City wide. Maybe gang war and Shock 
Troop involvement."

  He choked. "...That's not good news."

  "Depends on who you ask. It looks like Chris and I may 
end up in the middle of it. Apparently that Wells guy had a friend 
who is even meaner than him. They want me to handle the thing 
for them."

  "How are you gonna do that? Don't you remember what we 
went through on the Island?"

  "I do, but my little power is increasing, and the Cabal has 
machines that will boost it even more. They say I'm going to be 
like superman. Who knows. I think it's probably bullshit too, but 
they say I'll need it. Don't want anyone coming after us again."

  "What about Alethea? You aren't taking her with you, are 
you?"

  "No," I said. "Half the reason I am risking my life like this 
is for her. Wouldn't do me any good if she got killed. I am gonna 
try to convince her to stay here until the whole thing is over. You 
know, you could get in on this if you wanted to. The Cabal could 
always use another man with skills."

  "I don't know about that. The mob scene isn't really for 
me."

  "Well you don't have to be anywhere near the riot. If I go 
at all, it'll most likely be with a whole platoon when I find this 
Rufius, and you could probably be in it. To make a little money if 
you're interested."

  "You want me to get killed too?"

  I laughed. "I don't want to be the only one."

  He grunted. "Give me number there and maybe I'll stop by 
later tonight."

 I gave him Chris's cell phone number, which I assumed 
was registered to this address. After saying goodbye, I stood up, 
and walked down the hallway. 

  Funny, the way the decisions in your life always seem to be 
out of your hands. Somehow I knew that whatever I decided, I was 
not going to just sit around while everyone else got in on the 
action. And who knows? Maybe the Cabal could make a 
difference. I was not so na�ve as to think that a bunch of gang boys 
could take out the entire Special Forces unit of the government. 
But if the right people in charge were bargained away, a slightly 
greater order could rise from the ensuing chaos. With a mark on 
my head, and a car racing career that was now looking like it had 
already ended a decade ago, my calendar was wide open for an 
opportunity like this. 

  Of course there was also a good chance that I would die 
like a light and Alethea would be left alone again. It outweighed 
everything else on my mind. 

  Ideas were breaking on the shores in my mind, and as I 
waited for the elevator, I considered them more realistically. The 
very last thought I would let myself have on the subject always 
ended up doubting everything else I had come up with. Doubting 
whether I really wanted what I was pushing for. It was so hard to 
tell.

  Pure Alethea.

  A god damn elevator stopped and opened. 

  I spit on the floor out of spite and walked in.




--------------
--------------




On to the war! On to the chamber! On to the next chapter!
Soon, I swear!







JUST LIKE YOU IMAGINED






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