Resistance (27 page)

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Authors: Samit Basu

BOOK: Resistance
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Jai gets off him quickly.

“Get out,” he says.

That Guy vanishes.

“Let’s do this,” says Jai.

* * *

One of the Twin Towers disconnects his phone and signals to his brother. They turn and enter the building. Just as they’re about to close the door, a young woman in a red cape and hood slips out of the crowd and runs towards them, waving.

“Who’re you?” asks a Tower.

“Are you wearing AR glasses, or contacts?” she asks.

“We’re closed,” says the Tower. “Try later.”

“Let me in, and forget you saw me,” Says Uzma.

* * *

Jai rises into the court and is greeted with a roar of applause.

In her seat in the last row, in the darkest spot she could find, Uzma is amazed at the sheer enthusiasm all around her – the supers give Jai a standing ovation, banging palms and claws and other diverse limbs as Jai smiles and waves as if he’d been an emperor for years. Jai waits for the applause to die down, and beckons at someone below.

Agent N walks out into the court, his ghost-steps sinking slightly into the ground. If he had been expecting cheers as well, he is disappointed: his arrival casts the whole stadium into silence.

Around two thousand supers occupy the arena, around a tenth of its capacity. They’re mostly seated in a ring around the court, filling up the front rows, or scattered towards the rear, at a relatively safe distance from Jai. N looks around the crowd, and whispers in Jai’s ear.

“It doesn’t matter,” says Jai, and his voice carries clearly through the Colosseum.

N whispers in his ear again, and Jai steps away, irritated. He turns to the crowd.

“So,” he says. “You’re my army.”

He subjects his army to a glare. Several supers flinch and look at their feet.

“My name is Jai Mathur,” he says, “and if we have met before, it was while I was enslaved. Held prisoner in my own body by Uzma Abidi, a spectator and a mindless soldier while she ran the Unit. But all of this you already know. This is our first meeting, then. Hello.”

He walks around the court, looking the supers in the eye, one by one. They try their best to look back without blinking. Most fail.

“Eleven years ago, I tried to take over the world,” says Jai. “I did not get very far. I lost my country, I lost my troops, I lost my family. And then the supers who formed the first Unit came after me, and for a long time, I lost everything.

“Today I stand in front of you a free man. And our friends in Utopic – my new friends – tell me I have been chosen to rule the world. To wipe out corrupt governments, overcome armies, erase borders; to cut out a new world with blood and strength. Utopic gave a man who had nothing a second chance. And I am grateful.

“I don’t know how they found you. I heard they picked up people, threw them into camps and brainwashed them for years. I heard they cut you up to try and understand what made you work. But I was working for Utopic’s enemies. And when you deal with power on that scale, there are always dark rumours. You’ll hear similar stories, and worse, about me.

“In my case, everything you’ve heard is true. But I don’t know anything about you. Or why you’re here. And to be honest, I don’t want to know.

“Tomorrow, after the new Unit has been sworn in, I will walk out into the open and run all the way to the White House. I will replace Sara Rhodes as the President, and kill anyone who tries to stop me. And what will you do?”

He looks at a young man in the front row, he’s green with insect eyes and two long antennae on his head.

“Destroy New York,” says the man.

“No,” says Jai. “I like New York. I’m going to keep it. You will all be given specific areas, and specific targets. You will travel across the country, in groups that have been picked out for you. You will spread out in every direction, killing as you go. You will be assigned opponents, and have grand battles that destroy entire cities. When your missions are complete, you will return to your bases and await further instructions. This is no movie climax with superteams matching wits on top of New York skyscrapers. This is a simultaneous assault, too broad and too well organised to defeat. Other Utopic teams will lead similar assaults in ten other parts of the world. When we are done with one country, we will start with the next. The plans are all ready. I have seen them. I am impressed.”

Jai strides back to the centre of the court and stands, feet apart, directly under the largest spotlight.

“When I started out as a super – villain, I suppose – I was full of grand ideas. I believed in many things. But I was still young then. I wanted to start wars, burn cities, plant my flag all over the earth. And I had my reasons, most of which would sound quite good if I told them to you today. Millions, perhaps billions, would have died in the wars I started.

“But I am no longer young, and everything else has changed. I had no desire to make the world better then. Now, it seems our actions will. I had dreams and ideals then. They are gone. Now we are assembled here to conquer the world, but our real goal is the least inspiring thing I have ever heard.”

N, concerned, walks towards Jai quickly. But Jai cannot be stopped.

“We have to kill half the world’s people,” says Jai.

A loud murmur runs through the crowd.

“Four billion deaths,” says Jai. “That’s what we’re here to achieve. Four billion corpses. That’s what you’re getting paid for. That’s your job now. Meet your death quota, stop, collect your money, get your next assignment. So if you’re expecting stirring words from me, don’t. Starting tomorrow, we are going to go out and kill people for money, and keep doing it until the earth is empty enough for people like us, and everyone we allow to survive, to live in comfort. That’s all there is to it. And if any of you have a problem with it, stand up now and leave this place. No one will hurt you. But this is your last chance.”

He stands statue-still for a whole minute. No one moves or speaks.

Jai cracks his knuckles. Gunshot-like echoes fill the stadium.

“You’re afraid of me,” he says. “And you should be. But you are going to work for me, and fear alone won’t get the job done. You think you know what you’re about to get into? You think you can actually walk out with a smile on your face and kill humans until you meet your numbers? You can’t. You’re just supers, not soldiers. And even soldiers falter. You can’t run a mission like this on fear alone. You need more.”

Jai turns to N and smiles. “You need trust,” he says.

“This is Agent N. He passes through things. A silly power, but a useful one for negotiations with people like me. We were on a plane together a few days ago, and for most of that journey I thought that I was going to kill him. But he was honest with me, and he made me a very good offer. I like him. And he was brave enough to become flesh in my presence, to offer me his hand to make the deal. He is a braver man than any of you. It wasn’t the right time then. It is now.”

Jai extends his hand. “I’m a man of my word,” he says. “A man of honour. A leader you can trust. This will be a journey that ends in blood and fire. But it will start with a handshake.”

N unghosts. He shakes Jai’s hand. The crowd cheers. Jai puts his other hand on N’s shoulder. They embrace.

Then Jai snaps N’s neck.

As N’s body falls, screams and yells ring out over the stadium. Chaos erupts. A foolhardy super shoots a poisoned dart at Jai. It sticks in his neck, but Jai seems unaffected. Many supers burst out of their seats and race towards the exits.

“Sit down!” roars Jai.

The stadium plunges into silence. Every eye follows Jai’s hand as it rises to his neck and pulls the dart out.

“You sat through the boring bit,” says Jai. “Now you might as well keep watching, because it’s going to get interesting.”

Several supers actually return to their seats. Others stand and stare at Jai in disbelief, casting glances at the nearest exit, clearly wondering how long it would take to get out, and how much longer it would take for Jai to catch them.

“I will not harm any of you unless you attack me,” says Jai. “Sit down.”

He waits, arms crossed, tapping a foot, as the supers shuffle around the stadium finding seats. The back rows are considerably fuller than they were before.

“As you might have guessed,” says Jai, “this grand Utopic conquest is not going to happen. I am going to stop it. Do I have to explain why?”

He gives them three seconds to speak up. No one does. Jai smirks.

“It is said there is a thin line between genius and insanity,” he says. “I wouldn’t know. I am neither. I can understand completely that the idea of killing half the world is appealing. But actually going out and doing it? That is insane. And I find it insulting that they thought I would do it.

“Eleven years ago, I decided taking over the world was a good idea. I spent a few months trying, and I failed, and I was cast into slavery for eleven years. It wasn’t like I got an eleven-year sentence from some sort of justice system. A super decided, on her own, that I was her slave. As far as she was concerned, I would serve her for the rest of my life. When I was freed, it was an accident.

“I spent these years being a superhero. Saving lives. Stopping wars. Killing criminals, human and super. I have saved the world six times. I have been feared and loved by billions of people.

“But because of those first few months, when I was free again, everyone assumed that I would be the same person that Uzma Abidi trapped in London in the summer of 2009. In the case of Utopic, I am not surprised. I am just a file to them. But my teammates? The people I’d fought beside for years, saved from countless deaths, shared meetings, quarters, meals? Every time they met me, they attacked me. Without question. Without even a pause. I tried to speak to them, but they didn’t listen.

“So listen closely. I have changed. If you come to me now and tell me to kill half the world, I will not do it. And I will kill everyone who tries.”

Jai gives his audience a dazzling smile.

“So would you like to try?” he asks.

He walks up to another young man in the front row.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Invinciblo,” says the young man with some effort.

“Really?”

“Alexander,” says Invinciblo.

“Really?”

“Yes. Well, Alex, really.”

“Well, Alexander, would you like to help me stop Utopic?”

Alexander looks as if his dearest wish at this point is to teleport anywhere else, but this is not his superpower.

“Yes,” he says.

“But when I asked anyone who had a problem with what Utopic is doing to leave, you stayed. Why?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m afraid of you?”

“Thank you, Alexander,” says Jai. He strides back to the centre of the court.

“I have a habit of scaring people,” he says. Nervous laughter and headnodding breaks out in every corner of the court. “And I realised that even I could not stop Utopic alone – I hear they’ve spent a lot of time and money trying to find a way to kill me. And I know a few other people with interesting powers, and I thought they might be feeling a little shy, a little scared. So I thought I’d give them yet another chance. A last chance.

“So to save the world, I sent an email. Let’s see if it worked.”

He looks around the stadium.

“Uzma!” he calls. “Are you here?”

“Yes,” calls a voice from a seat as far away from Jai as possible.

Two thousand heads turn towards Uzma as she throws back her red hood.

Jai waits for the gasping, creaking and shuffling to subside.

“Come on down,” he says.

“Nobody move!” Shouts Uzma.

She walks down the steps and into the court.

“Perhaps this scene would play better if the audience weren’t looking at an empty seat,” suggests Jai.

“Turn and look at us, and then stay still!” Shouts Uzma.

“Precise, as always,” says Jai. “Now tell Aman to come up. I heard him shuffling around in the tunnel a while ago.”

“Aman, come up,” Calls Uzma.

Aman does so. Inside his helmet, he looks extremely sheepish.

Jai waits patiently as Aman approaches, and stands beside Uzma.

“Hi,” says Jai.

Uzma and Aman have nothing to say.

“So, how do we do this?” asks Jai. He extends his arm. “Should we start with a handshake?”

“I’d really rather not,” says Aman.

“Uzma?”

Uzma reaches out. In the utter silence that follows, Jai shakes her hand solemnly and lets it go.

Two thousand supers remember to breathe again.

“You’ve become a real drama queen,” says Aman. “That’s new.”

Jai throws his head back and laughs out loud. His laughter fills the hall. No one even smiles in response.

“To business, then,” says Jai. “The passwords I sent you. Were they useful?”

“Yes,” says Aman.

“What did you do?”

“Well, I deleted the stories about you and Uzma a few minutes ago, for a start. I didn’t like those.”

“I thought they were very well done,” says Jai.

“Well, I didn’t. So I shut down all Utopic sites. And their TV feeds. I liked that. So I went to lots of banks and emptied their accounts. You let me into their communications database. I rooted around in there like a big fat pig.”

Aman looks around the audience.

“All of you are broke now, I’m afraid,” he says. “Utopic is bankrupt. I can give you jobs, though, if you need money.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t do this years ago,” says Jai.

“Well, they hadn’t mentioned their world-killing plan in their emails, you know,” says Aman. “And they did have a rather strong security system. Everything was disguised. Super-programmers. I didn’t need your passwords to break in; I needed them to tell me where to look.”

“Excuses,” says Jai. “What else did you do?”

“Scrambled their communications, mostly. There should have been a few thousand more supers here tonight, for a start. But I’ve found their prisons. They’re getting a lot of very confusing instructions right about now. With any luck, thousands more might be set free tonight. They know they’re under attack now, but they don’t know we’re behind it. Seventeen people here have tried to tell them what you just did, but obviously all communication out of here is jammed.”

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