Excerpt: A Life of Evil

A Life of Evil

"It's the Favor!" The young boy ran across the field toward the village. "The Favor is coming!"
He shouted it, and comms flashed on as he ran by, passing the message on. The Favor! Returned to their village!
In about half an hour, the convoy rolled in. Troop transports full of Infinites, Apocalypse's cloned soldiers, the Madri priesthood, and census takers, doctors, and administrators. The bullhorns sounded.
"Attention Village Three Fifty Seven. Apocalypse once again Favors you with His attention. Please report with your adolescents and young people for analysis." Several of the inhabitants were already lining up, hands full of paperwork.

Exactitude took a new sheet of parchment from the pile to his right as the new applicants stepped forward. The physical artifacts were an affectation, a formality. Exactitude's ability to remember everything, exactly, forever, made them redundant. But reduncancy was the order of things in administration. Besides, with the violence inherent in The Age of Apocalypse, one never knew what might happen to a mere frail mortal, mutant, flatscan, or some combination of the two.
"Hail Apocalypse."
"Hail Apocalypse."
The couple urged what Exactitude presumed was their daughter forward. A young lady of about twenty, if he was any judge. Must have just missed the last cycle of the Favor. When was the last time they'd been through here? Seven years? He smiled to himself, shaking his head. The Powers That Be really did seem to have that part of it down right.
"Name?"
"Nightshade Silence." Exactitude's pen paused above the space on the parchment. The Madri beside him, typing exactly the same information into a datapad, also paused, looking up. He took further note of the young lady. Average height. Medium length blond hair. Nervous or excited, he couldn't tell.
"Silence, you say?" The couple nodded.
"Nightshade Silence."
"I see." He wrote the name, then reached to his right for the pot of red ink, placing the mark of a red star beside the name. "I shall make particular note of this to His Lordship Sinister."
"Thank you, sir."
"Nightshade, would you please go to one of the tables in the back to be scanned?" Nightshade looked to her parents, who nodded, urging her forward.
"Any talents observed?"
"Psychic, sir."
"Type?"
"Telepathy. And telekinesis." Exactitude noted these. Valuable, those. Sinister had a particular fondness for them, it seemed.
"Magnitude. When there was a pause, he looked up. "Magnitude?"
The father coughed lightly. "Very high." Exactitude raised an eyebrow. This couple, gene scientists of particularly noted talent and their previous work, would certainly know what they were talking about.
"How high?" The father paused, seeminly unable to speak. "As promising as this candidate seems to be shaping up to be, we do need to get through the rest of the applicants. What is the level of magnitude?"
The mother finally spoke. "Immeasurable."
Exactitude blinked, not writing. After several seconds, the Madri behind him spoke.
"Immeasurable...by the instruments you have available here, of course."
"Yes...yes, that's it. Surely, if our suit is accepted and you see fit to test her further, your...greater access to resources would...determine the level of talents she possesses." They bowed slightly. "Our meager resources are inadequate, that is all." The Madri frowned.
"Is that a criticism of Our Lord's beneficience, citizens?" They hurried to correct the impression.
"NO! No, your Holiness, not at all. A denigration of our talents and abilities, that is all. And you know scientists, automatically complaining about lack of resources, even if they have stores and stores around waiting to be used."
"That's for sure," muttered one of the Infinites flanking the desk. "Even with the Pens filled with thousands, Beast's always complaining about not enough flesh to do his work."
"You will speak of Doctor McCoy using his proper titles, Infinite."
"Yes, your Holiness." In the background--
"Please step around, go to the preliminary scanning arch." She stepped toward the metallic arch. "Stand underneath. It'll scan you and determine where you'll be classified." Nighthade swallowed and stepped forward. An electronic note sounded. The technician looked at her readout. "Alpha level!?! Prelate Exactitude!!"
Exactitude turned, holding his finger up to the next applicants. "Technician?"
"Alpha level, sir. High-order. Expedite level." Exactitude looked down. His hands were shaking. This area was known for producing mutants of exceptional quality. Officially he didn't get any credit for finding them, and his position was assured as any could be...but still.
"Expedite? Technician, are you sure?"
"Sir, Alpha level mutancy. Pegged to the far right of the meter. I won't say who I half expect to show up here to take her away. If that's not Expedite level, I'll recycle myself."
Exactitude turned to the Silences. "Ah...disposition? That is...personality traits?" He'd been shaken up. He never deviated from procedure. "Any defects?"
"Ah--quiet. Intelligent. Good at solving problems. Helpful."
"Negatives?" When they hesitated, he snapped. "Damn it, spit it out. They're expediting. She may be gone in half an hour." They jerked, startled.
"Ah--dreamy, sometimes. Distracted. Possibly...not aggressive enough." Exactitude frowned.
"Well, that'll get knocked out of her." He turned to look at Nightshade, looking puzzled at the excitment of the technicians around her. "Or she'll never survive." The Silences frowned, looking grim.
"We were afraid of that."
Her mother sighed. "Oh well. So she'll be leaving with you?"
"Oh no. Expediting. They're sending air transport now." The Silences blinked.
"Air?"
The Madri tapped commands into his official datapad. "If we had a transporter with us we'd be using that."
"But what about the risk of molecular scattering--!!" The Madri shook his head.
"Not with the latest generation of transporter technology. Identical repatterning to a subatomic level." He waved a hand dismissively. "Not an issue in any case..." He looked up. "That'll be the transport now. Get her ready." Nightshade's mother and father dashed to her side.
"NIGHTSHADE!"
"Mother? Father? It sounds like I'm leaving today--"
"Now! That shuttle that's landing is for you." Nightshade's eyes went wide.
"But--" Her mother handed her a credit stick.
"This should hold you until you get your first paycheck. Don't--"
"I know, don't spend it all in one place. --Wait, you mean it? Now??"
"Did you need anything from home?"
"I--" Her mind whirled. Exactitude beckoned over four Infinites.
"Go where these two direct you and bring back all the contents of this young lady's room." Nightshade staggered, catching herself against the portable table. Her father gave the Infinites directions, and her mother stepped up, taking her arm and whispering in her ear.
"It's different there, right in the thick of Apocalypse's world. Prelate Exactitude, sir, where will she be going?"
"I'm almost certain she'd be stationed in the Pens." Her mother froze, but only for a second.
"Right. Thank you, Prelate." She turned back to her daughter. "You're going to be in the very center of it. Things are--it's harsher there. Very much so. Remember what we told you of Apocalypse's Creed?"
"Oh...Only the Strong Survive?"
"And as a corollary...Mercy is for the Weak." Nightshade took a deep breath. "There is a hidden meaning to that, though. You may...no, you will have to be harsher there. You will have to defend yourself. Strike hard and strike fast--yes, I know. We taught you a better way, but--the City is a different place. It's one of the most concentrated manifestations of the Creed." Nightshade was looking at her mother as if she'd never seen her before. "Use your wits!! Keep them about you at all times! There will always be people looking to use you or eliminate you to improve their position." Her mother took her shoulder and shook her. "If you do not, Nightshade, you will die. Do you understand me?"
"Yes ma'am." She was interrupted by an avalanche of things at her feet. "Hey!" The Infinites deposited their loads with varying amounts of care.
"That's everything, ma'am." Nightshade looked over her belongings, frantic.
"Don't take too long, Miss Silence. The sooner we leave, the better."
"Ah..." She grabbed a carrysack and unzipped it. The wooden bowl she'd carved with her telekinesis and had gotten almost just right. The multicolored woolen throw her friend Melody had knitted for her. ...It was all too much. She kept her belongings to a minimum, but there was still too much to take with her. And it was too much to decide. She looked up to her mother. "Mother--I can't decide."
"Of course you can."
"I want to remember. I want to remember every lesson. And everything is a lesson!"
"That's right, my girl. That's the part to remember. Everything is a lesson."
Nightshade looked over her things again. "Everything." She stood up. "I've got everything I need."
"Here's this, too." Her mother handed her a package wrapped in a square of blue silk. "It was for your birthday...but since you're going..." Nightshade unwrapped it.
"A watch!" Her mother nodded.
"Stainless steel. And the crystal is clear sapphire." She grinned. "Strong and resilient...and just about indestructible."
"Are you trying to tell me something, Mom?"
"Just that every other timepiece you've had has wound up in pieces. We wanted to get you one that would actually last more than a month or two."
"Thanks, Mom." She fastened it to her wrist. "I don't think think my new bosses are going to take tardiness well."
"That would be putting it lightly." She reached out and hugged her daughter fiercely. "Oh, be careful, Nightshade."
"I will, Mom."
"And don't hold back. Use your powers. Make examples if you have to. That's how the people in high places got there, and that's how everyone else it trying to get there. Competence is very important...but violence tends to win the day."
Nightshade let out the breath she'd been holding. "Got it."
"Treat it as...as a daily fight for survival. Watch your back, keep situational awareness, and trust your intuition. Remember, it's actually a subprocessor of your mind."
"Right. Dad?" Her dad hugged her.
"Just be careful. Be cautious. And keep your shields up. I mean physical and mental. And emotional."
"Are you ready yet, Miss?" Nightshade gave her mother and father one last squeeze, then stepped back.
"I'm ready." She slung the carrysack over her shoulder and followed the Infinite assigned her for escort duty into the shuttle.
The shuttle's door hissed closed, then its jets fired, lifting it in the air. It turned east and flew off.
She buckled herself into the transport seat, still trying to sort her thoughts. Everything had changed, almost in an instant. Her parents had been telling her that, but still--!
"Prelate Exactitude gave me these for you. Do NOT lose these." The Infinite handed her a packet of papers and a rectangular black fabric bag. "They have your expedite orders. Without those, you're sunk, just tossed into the stew to sink or swim."
"Um. Any idea what any of it is?"
"Officially no. Unofficially, you can't stand next to stuff that high-level going on and not take notice. --Which you may want to do yourself. You know, keeping an eye on what's going on around you."
"Eyes up, head down?"
"Pretty much, yeah." Nightshade cocked her head.
"I'm being pretty nosy, I know, but are all Infinites as smart as you? I mean really."
"Uh, maybe not. I know we're all supposed to be the same, but I notice I seem to catch on a little faster." He leaned closer. "I try to keep it on the QT. Infinites who stick out or get noticed...uh...get hammered down, if you know what I mean."
"I think I do."
"I'm also pretty old for an Infinite. I'm almost a year."
"Damn! I heard you only last a year, but I thought they had to be kidding!" He shrugged. "Is there anything they can do?"
"Uh, you're still thinking like a civilian. We're disposable."
"But you're sharp. You also seem to know your way around. There's gotta be a way!"
"Heh. Thanks!"
"I'll think of something. So what's in the bag?"
"Oh yeah. One of them is your assignment orders. Don't lose that no matter what. Hell, without those, you could just be tossed into the Pens themselves."
"Oh gods..."
"Yeah. These are enhanced. Red flagged. Special notice to Sinister."
"Um, is that a good thing?"
"Depends. Probably good, in your case. You'll probably get assigned to one of his Prelates. Oh! There should also be a TK damper implant in there. You'll want to put that on right away."
"But TK is one of my abilities. I should damp it?"
"No, no, it's for the Black Tower. It telepathically slows down everybody not wearing a damper. Keeps down resistance. Okay, probably an explanation for why you're arriving on your own transport. Probably an 'All Assistance' set of papers so people shouldn't give you trouble."
"Buckle down, folks, we're coming in for a landing."
"That's you...ah--what's your name?"
"Don't have one. Just a designation." He tapped his upper left chest, where there was a jumble of numbers and letters printed. She leaned forward to read them.
"Ah....da de da de...77DE 1138 3J4X." She thought a moment. "Jax!"
"Huh?"
"J, the 4 looks like an A, X. Jax!"
"Ah, okay."
"Could you show me around when we get there? Otherwise, I'm going to get lost. I can almost guarantee."
"Uh, you'll probably get someone assigned from Reception." I rub my chin.
"Weren't you assigned to escort me, though?"
"Er, that probably ends as soon as I drop you off at Reception."
"Did anyone SAY when this escort duty ends?" He thinks a minute, then grins.
"No, no they didn't."
"Well then, I'd say you can--nay, should stick with me! Because, you know, dire things could happen if I don't get where I'm supposed to go."
"Sounds good to me."
"And buckle up."
"Yes ma'am!"