CHAPTER FIVE
VAINGLORIOUS BASTARD
“Revenge is a dish best served coldly well-written.”
An old Tarantinoism
1
THWACK!
The smacking sound of Atera’s hand slapping hard across Ricardo’s face resonated with a loud whack.
“You insolent child, where do you the temerity to incite acts of violence on these premises, on this day? Your impetuous conduct is an offense to the dignity of your high office and a personal affront to me and the Guardian Administrator.”
Atera scolded him like a misbehaving adolescent. Ricardo made no attempt to defend his actions. He just stood there and took it.
Since Jacob and Harvey left, with only Dawson remaining, he put up with the berating, thinking it best to let her get it out of her system. He focused his own building rage on Jacob for sucker punching him, but still reserved some of his dark thoughts for Harvey, wondering where he got the nerve to threaten the life of the Chief Magistrate, no matter what his sworn duty bound him to do.
He would deal with them at a later time and in a proper manner. There was nothing he could do about it at the moment. Right now, he had to deal with what was before him as Atera’s rant took a more personal turn that garnered his full attention.
“If you persist in acting like a child, and not the man I promoted, I will have to punish you like one. Or maybe I should tell you about a recent SBP match that just came in.” Atera threatened before turning her attention to Dawson.
“CP Flowers could you please go check on the arrangements for Alex’s care we discussed earlier? I would like to have a word with Mr. Danielle on a personal matter.”
“I will see to it, and make sure everything is ready on time.” Dawson said walking out of the room, while giving Ricardo a cocked eyebrow look.
Ricardo had no clue how far Atera was willing to go to keep things the way they were, or what she had already done to ensure it. With a self-satisfied smirk, he watched Dawson leave, but put on a more serious expression to face Atera as he apologetically pleaded his case for staying in her good graces.
“Atera, please accept my sincere apology for setting into motion a violent altercation in your home on this sad day. I deeply regret if my poor choice of words acted as an unintentional catalyst in provoking the physical assault on me. I prefer to settle differences of opinion by interchanging a civil dialogue through an intellectual debate, instead of the brute force of fisticuffs. Unfortunately, when words fail to win their argument, some weaker minded individuals will resort to thoughtless, barbaric actions after they have run out of anything intelligent to say. I must confess my natural instinct for self-preservation kicked in, and I overreacted. Speaking in regard to their insolence of office, they should have shown me the respect my position of authority demands.”
Ricardo’s rationalized words of regret sounded sincere enough. He hoped it would appease Atera. Although, if she needed more redeeming words or actions, he would readily submit to her will, providing he did not lose Samantha. Previously, he would have sacrificed anything for their likeminded cause. And even though he would never openly betray her, Ricardo started to get an eerie sense Atera was losing control of her faculties. If it should come to pass, someone would need to step up and take charge.
“I accept your apology, and I understand why you reacted the way you did. I just cannot condone it. I need to know if you are capable of handling the responsibility of carrying this heavy burden on your shoulders. I cannot afford to lose your strength. There are so few left with the fortitude I have seen you display.”
Ricardo owed his loyal allegiance to Atera for everything she did for him. It began when she first confided in him a terrible fear that one of these rebel groups would rise up and destroy their perfect society one day in their fight for the right to express their perverted desires. Finding a common, philosophical bond binding them together, he told her about his suspicions of his roommate’s relationship, along with a plan to root them out of the closet.
“Even my poor, dear Alex was beginning to weaken from the ill-advised counsel of others. But you possess a strong conviction he no longer defends.”
Ricardo could see signs of desperation showing through the cracks of Atera’s once stone hard veneer. The doubts forming in his mind had nothing to do with her desperately unhinged actions against her husband, which he was not privy to and would not have colluded in if asked. But more from a personal sense of something oddly off balance in her behavior. Ricardo began to doubt Atera’s leadership abilities, very much in the same way she started to lose faith in her husband.
“You have a great potential. Something you clearly proved during the public ordeal you had to endure in defense of your beliefs and mine.”
Getting drunk on his own recently acquired power, Ricardo started to feel it might be time for some younger blood to take over in order to keep alive the spirit in which the new founding fathers rebuilt the country. He believed he could do just as good a job as anyone, including the supposed heir to the Prophet Warrior wandering around out there somewhere. There were times when he thought he could be the enigmatic heir, based on his own inbred self-worth, forgetting the Prophet Warrior’s most intrinsic quality was his empathetic compassion for others.
“It is the only reason I got so upset with you. I need your strength to help keep the people under control.” Atera forgave and praised him at the same time, exhibiting mood swings more apropos to someone suffering from a bi-polar disorder and not someone who commanded the leadership qualities one expected from the person in charge.
Ricardo knew they could not risk losing the support of the people after the promise of great change. Before leaving, Jacob extended an olive branch peace offering. He suggested if they wanted to ensure the support of the majority, then don’t punish the many for the actions of a few. Approve the proposed reformation to the SBP system, but exclude same sex matches. It was a cunning, bold move to mend broken fences while building new bridges of trust.
“You have my undying pledge of loyalty to do anything I can to preserve our great society.” Ricardo vowed.
“I personally blame Jacob for leading my Alex astray, filling his head with ludicrous ideas of equality for those who would not only defy our laws, but their own biological natures. Regrettably, he serves a necessary purpose for now, which we can easily control as long as he believes no harm will come to his friends. So do not let him goad you into doing anything else to help his cause. Do not play his game.”
Having less to do with misguided counsel or any personal grievances, their combined hatred of Jacob was born out of a jealous envy for his immense popularity. It was basically that simple. The people loved Jacob, and nobody liked either of them very much. Atera always came off as being aloof when in public, while Ricardo’s infamy was well-documented, recent tabloid fodder, to the point where he could be the poster child of the most highly despised shyster ever to have fallen from grace due to scandalous misdeeds.
“Do not worry. He can’t. He has to play by my rules now. He will do whatever I say, unless he wants to see his friends go down one by one.”
“Dominos to be toppled over at the proper time,” Atera said in accord.
They were having their conspiratorial conversation with Atera leaning back against the large desk in a more relaxed position since Dawson left, while Ricardo stood about five feet in front of her at a comfortably safe, non-slapping distance. Standing up straight, Atera moved over to Ricardo raising her hand up as if to slap him in the face, but instead cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand.
“You are the kind of man my son should have been. You possess the strength Alex used to pass on in his genetic code, which has weakened over the many long years, denying his son the DNA that made his predecessors such determined men of vision.”
Letting her hand absently slide off his cheek, she walked away with her mind in a foggy cloud,
speaking ambiguous thoughts and making vague statements about past lives.
“I can remember back to the beginning, when Alex resolutely believed in the uncompromising, fundamental plan to rebuild civilization. You should have seen him then. He knew we had to restructure society to prevent reverting back to old ways, knowing our species’ propensity to destroy whatever we create.”
Feeling dazed and confused from Atera’s cognitive dissidence by the time he left, Ricardo had a hard time figuring out what she meant by her nonsensical references to past lives, paternal longings, and rambling rants mixed in with forgiving words of praise. He went to tell Samantha the news, not knowing if it was good or bad.
Ricardo decided to give her the good and leave out the bad and the ugly for now. He planned on keeping everyone close to him as happy as he could, while patiently waiting for the opportunity to wrest power away from those no longer in control of it.
2
Sitting on his own all by himself, parked in the driveway of their new home, Jacob had been locked in contemplative thought since arriving at his destination nearly eight minutes ago. He was unaware Hanna heard him pull up and sat pensively watching him through their living room window, while he rehearsed his lines for the scene of what he would and would not tell her.
In the meantime, GP Sally patrolled the grounds around the neighborhood, checking for any signs of surveillance, like fresh tire tracks, hidden video cameras, long range listening devices, or food scraps left on the side of the road—in days long gone by he would also have checked for discarded cigarette butts and beer cans.
Jacob stepped out of the vehicle stretching his arms out taking in a wide yawning breath of fresh air as GP Sally rounded the corner on the way back from his patrol. Jacob felt tired and downtrodden from the aftermath of the commotion triggered by the crushing news and the quarreling words of action. He already felt exhausted at one-thirty in the afternoon. And his day was just beginning.
Once inside their one-level colonial ranch house, Jacob still had not figured out how to explain the compromising deal he made without telling Hanna why he did it. By holding back facts essential to the real story, he knew it might appear like he sold out his friends, especially Warren, left to suffer through his new, more terrifying nightmare all alone.
Hanna could hear his approaching footsteps coming from the dining room hardwood floor. He found her pretending to be cleaning the countertop in the kitchen after hurrying over from the living room window. She put on a brave face as Jacob entered the kitchen, going over and embracing him with a strong, consoling hug.
“If there is anything I can do, anything you need.”
“I only ask you trust me, no matter what may come.”
Jacob pleaded for patience in the coming days for what he knew would be very trying times for those closest to him.
“I know your heart and mind will always be free of evil thoughts or deeds. Your fight for truth and knowledge drives your very being, making you the most righteously honest man I know or ever will.”
“If you only knew how happy it makes me to hear you feel that way, I just hope you will think I am as deserving of such high praise after telling you what I just did.”
“How bad is it?”
“It’s not good. Alex is in a coma. Doc Penelope is baffled. Atera has assumed power and has also pardoned and promoted Ricardo to Chief Magistrate. They rearrested Warren, and Owen… poor Owen fell to his death when Ricardo tried to take him into custody. He claims Owen attacked him. I cannot be sure how much is true or fabricated lies.”
Jacob immediately regretted being so direct after noticing Hanna’s shocked silent response to the awful news.
“I’m sorry for being so blunt. I know it is a lot to take in all at once.”
“No, it is better this way, like quickly ripping off a Band-Aid. I cannot help feeling sorry for Warren and Owen. They did not deserve this.”
“No one does. I am going to call Michael and Eve, but I think it would be better to go over in person to tell them what has happened. I am sure they are already wondering what is going on after your call.”
“Anxiously confused would be a better way to put it,” Hanna replied before adding a forgotten message. “When I spoke with Michael before, he said Eve was going out to meet Jean, who knows someone who can shed some light on everything that’s happened.”
“Eve might be back by now. Go get ready, and I’ll call Michael.” Jacob told Hanna as she walked out of the kitchen and into the connecting dining room where Harvey diligently stood watch.
As Jacob took out his phone to call Michael, Hanna indicated to Harvey with a slight head nod and a guiding directional gaze she wanted a private word with him.
Harvey followed her out of hearing range, conflicted by what he would be willing to tell her, torn between two duties. He knew Jacob didn’t want to worry her about everything that transpired at the Guardian Administrator’s mansion, even though he felt she deserved to hear it and could handle it.
“Harvey, I know you have a code of honor you are bound to follow, but if you could just let me know if he is in any real danger, I would appreciate the kindness.”
Harvey felt her pain and knew her concerns to be genuine. Except there was not much he could say to assuage her distraught emotional grief.
“I am sorry for your troubles, Hanna. I wish there was something positive I could tell you, but I am afraid I do not know much more than you do at the moment. The one thing you can always count on is Jacob’s sharp mind and keen ability to outwit anyone he comes up against, plus he has the support of all the good people in his life.”
3
Michael was just finishing up with Jacob’s call when he heard the sound of the front door shutting as Eve returned from her meeting with Jean.
“Very good, we will see you in a few,” Michael said into the video phone with Jacob’s image vanishing as Eve entered the kitchen.
“Are Jacob and Hanna coming over?”
“They will be here in just a bit. How did your meeting with Jean go?”
Aside from telling Michael to find a reason to get to old California, Jean had another piece of sensitive information for Eve to impart. It was news that took her by surprise at first, but after careful consideration, it made perfect sense.
“I have something important to tell you before they get here.”
4
CLACK! CLINK! CLANK! CLACK!
CLINK! CLANK! CLACK! CLINK!
The clashing sounds of fencing foils rang out its stinging steel song in Ricardo’s ears as he entered the New Las Vegas Police Department (NLVPD) training facility. Standing back, he watched the two sword fighters parrying back and forth with whirling foils dancing to their metal tune. The fencer’s were hidden behind wire mesh bibbed facemasks, their bodies protected by puncture resistant Kevlar jackets, matching their all-white outfits, which included a single white glove worn on the sword hand. Ricardo never developed the same obsession most of the country did with swordplay. He had his own specially designed combative weapon he had become proficient with to a degree where he would boldly challenge anyone with a blade, spear, or any other hand held, skilled weapon.
CLINK! CLANK! CLINK! CLACK!
CLACK! CLINK! CLANK! CLACK!
Ricardo was admiring the form of the smaller fencer, moving with the swift, fleet-footed skill of a fierce ballerina, always the aggressor, always on the attack.
Since there were very few people in the country permitted to carry or own firearms, many citizens in New America practiced some form of martial arts, hand-to-hand-combat, or skilled weapons training. Guardian Protectors (the modern day Secret Service), members of HOUSE, who served as the new NSA, military personnel in the Department of Security’s armed forces division, and the Chief Magistrate were the only ones issued firearms. Without much crime to defend against, civil law enforcement officers no longer carried guns, and like the English Bobbie of old, they armed themselves with Bil
ly club truncheons, mace spray, and modern day, high-voltage stun guns, also augmenting their protective gear with short swords, knifes, and other easily carried defensive weapons.
The Chief Magistrate was the nation’s top cop. His job was to oversee every police department in the country, which handled all civilian crimes, public disturbances, and malfeasance. Carrying a gun became a mental adjustment Ricardo had to learn about the hard way after his imprudently rash incident with Jacob showed him to respect the awesome responsibility.
“A hit, a very palpable hit,” the referee called out after the smaller fencer Ricardo admired scored a point with a direct thrust to the opponent’s chest, sending an electronic signal to a digital scoreboard.
“A touch, I do confess,” the struck fencer praised his adversary’s expertise. Removing his facemask, he held his sword straight up in front of him and took a short bow. “I salute your superior ability.”
Taking off the bib, the fencer revealed behind the other mask was Samantha.
“I was taught by the best,” she complimented her instructor.
“Bravo. Just wonderful,” Ricardo cheered with clapping hands. “Bravo.”
Giving two short bows, Samantha silently excused herself, leaving the referee and her teacher to go about their business as she went over and joined Ricardo.
“You really are something special.”
“Thank you, I am pretty good with a sword, too.”
“So how did Chandra take the news when you told him?”
“Better than I expected. He did not say much, and I didn’t pry. I could tell he knew about your promotion. He even seemed stunned to see me.”
“Yeah, he is a sly, old fox. I would be more concerned about what he isn’t saying, than what he did. If he mattered, that is. I will make sure he retires when he ages out, or I will stick him in a damp, dark basement to shuffle papers no one will ever read.”
When she came to get him out of jail, Ricardo told her to keep her morning meeting with Chandra and to tell him that she was transferring to the staff of the new Chief Magistrate, which was just one of the perks of his promotion.
“What is wrong, Rick? You seem tense.” Samantha asked wondering why he did not feel like he was on top of the world. Especially considering where he was just a few short hours ago.
“I heard about Owen. Is that what is bothering you? They said he left you no choice. That it was either you or him.”
“That’s not it. He decided his own fate. But Jacob Rose sucker punched me after I told him what happened, and then GP Sally pulled a gun on me, the Chief Magistrate.”
“Maybe you should try to work out some of your anger.”
“That is not a bad idea.” Ricardo agreed as he opened up his jacket, revealing a two-foot long metal pipe concealed inside.
Taking the pipe while handing his jacket to Samantha, he walked to the center of the training room and held the pipe straight out in his hand. Pressing a biometric palm reader, the two-foot pipe shot out from both ends, extending another two feet on each side. Whirling around the specially made, lightweight, sturdy metal staff in front and behind him in a figure eight at lightning fast speeds, Ricardo came to a stop with the metal staff tucked under his arm and behind his back with his free hand extended out in front of him in Bruce Lee’s famous curled fingers pose, calling out to any challengers.
5
Sitting alone in a padded cell, bound in a straitjacket, Warren Stacy had a faraway look in his eyes, indicating he might never come back from the place he regressed to in his mind.