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It was good to be home.<\/p>\n
James Wood stepped off the ferry and into the relentless glare of the morning sun. A flock of seagulls squawked overhead, cutting above the low drone of the rumbling engines all around the docks. A gentle breeze carried the scent of the sea to his nose.<\/p>\n
The air here was hotter and wetter than the mainland. Like the locals, he came dressed in a loose-fitting blue cotton shirt and comfortable gray slacks. He adorned himself with a hat and a pair of sunglasses, and liberally applied sunscreen to his exposed mocha-colored skin.<\/p>\n
The people around him were tourists and small-time businessmen from Babylon. He could tell by the inappropriate clothing, either too hot and stuffy or too short and no sunscreen, and the simple fact that they took the ferry. A gravcar could easily cover the distance between Nova Babylonia and Moreno Island as fast and as comfortably as a ferry, and weren\u2019t limited to landing at the docks. These days, the only people who took the ferry were those who wanted the authentic seafaring experience, or didn\u2019t want to pay for a long-range taxi.<\/p>\n
Or, in Wood\u2019s case, people traveling incognito on the government dime.<\/p>\n
Still, the ferry service was a dying trade. In his youth, the ferries ran four times a day, shuttling workers and visitors and traders between the mainland and the island. Today, the service only ran at dawn and dusk. Commercial fishing trawlers and pleasure yachts occupied docks once reserved for now-decommissioned ferries.<\/p>\n
Wood melted into the mass of tourists around him, slowing down his steps, lowering his head just so, becoming just one more mainlander here to visit, and allowed them to carry him into the ferry terminal. Immediately a rush of cold air washed over him, temporarily banishing the heat of the day.<\/p>\n
The terminal was almost empty. The morning ferry had come and gone, and there was no reason for anyone to stay. The only people here were new arrivals and the terminal\u2019s elderly uniformed staff.<\/p>\n
And Wood\u2019s contact.<\/p>\n
Standing at a pillar near the exit, hands held near his belt, a short stocky man awaited. He was dressed in the deep green uniform of the Moreno Island Sheriff\u2019s Department, a short-sleeved shirt paired with cargo pants and low-cut boots. The colors had faded under a regime of harsh detergent and harsher sunlight, his chest-mounted star had gone dull with age, and a bit of softness crept around his belly. Still he held himself erect, and as Wood approached, he saw that his equipment was in immaculate condition.<\/p>\n
The deputy keyed on Wood, his eyes furrowing. Wood removed his hat and sunglasses and smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cJim!\u201d the deputy said.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s been a while, Frank,\u201d Wood replied.<\/p>\n
Frank Matthews smiled, revealing a mouthful of gleaming white teeth.<\/p>\n
\u201cDamn, man, didn\u2019t recognize you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s been too long since we last met, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThree years, man. Three years and all we had were emails and the odd phone call.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wood shrugged. \u201cWork. You know how it goes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt least we finally get to meet again.\u201d Lowering his voice, Matthews added, \u201cAnd work is why you\u2019re meeting me, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRight,\u201d Wood confirmed.<\/p>\n
\u201cC\u2019mon. We can talk in the car.\u201d<\/p>\n
Matthews led Wood to the parking lot. Every vehicle parked here was earthbound. No lifting fans, no gravity mirrors, just good old fashioned wheels. Even Matthews\u2019 department-issue cruiser was a road car, so old it went out of style a decade ago.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou guys never heard of gravcars?\u201d Wood asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cOnly the Special Response Team has \u2018em,\u201d Matthews said. \u201cThe rest of us gotta make do with good old wheels.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd civvies? Anyone actually uses gravcars here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOnly the rich and famous.\u201d<\/p>\n
The men laughed. There were no rich and famous people in the island. Well-to-do families had long ago pulled up their roots and settled in the sprawling metropolis of Babylon, just across the water. They might maintain business or blood ties on the island, but they never stayed for long.<\/p>\n
Matthews took the wheel, Wood had shotgun. There were no augmented reality displays here, just an old-fashioned terminal mounted on the dashboard, obsolete long before Wood joined Public Security. Wood barely remembered how to use one of those.<\/p>\n
The engine coughed to life, then rumbled smoothly. Despite its age it still ran like a champion. Matthews pulled the car out the parking lot and drove it down a winding jungle road.<\/p>\n
\u201cThings haven\u2019t changed much, have they?\u201d Wood asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s Moreno Island, man. The land Babylon forgot.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat bad?\u201d<\/p>\n
He chuckled. \u201cWell, we like it that way, to be honest. Besides, the government might have forgotten us, but the New Gods haven\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTake a look around.\u201d<\/p>\n
The road fed into a highway. As the cruiser accelerated, Woods peered out the windows and beheld an urban jungle. High-rises painted in a hundred colors, squat brick buildings jostling up against their taller neighbors, tree-lined roads zigzagging between them. Here and there, glass and steel reflected the sun into his eyes.<\/p>\n
This was Saint Lucile, the largest city on the island, and its administrative capital. It had been too long since he\u2019d visited this part of town. His childhood memories insisted they were shantytowns, places where the desperately poor tried to eke out a living from the nearby seas, places that spawned razorboys and goodtime girls with depressing regularity. Somehow, over the space of three decades, the ramshackle towns had given way to the cityscape he saw today.<\/p>\n
He wondered if that were a good thing.<\/p>\n
\u201cSaint Lucille\u2019s changed a lot,\u201d Wood said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d Matthews agreed. \u201cWe\u2019ve got the New Gods to thank for that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh? How so?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019ve been around since forever, but they\u2019ve dramatically expanded their presence here in the past ten years or so. Since then, they\u2019ve played a huge role in modernization, construction and development projects.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich gods are those?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFirst you\u2019ve got the Singularity Network. Yeah, yeah, the cyborgs don\u2019t have a god\u2014yet\u2014but their Will of the Net counts as one for all intents and purposes, and they\u2019re building their Deus Ex Machina. The other one is the Guild of the Maker.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Guild proclaimed a belief in a World Maker who created this world and everything in it. To honor their Maker, they moved into construction, manufacturing, everything that had to do with building or creating new things. In the days after the Cataclysm, when the world rearranged itself and flung disparate peoples all over a reformed Earth, the Guild led reconstruction and rebuilding efforts.<\/p>\n
The world saw them as mostly benign. Wood knew otherwise.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about local spirits and tutelary gods?\u201d Wood asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019ve faded away,\u201d Matthews said. \u201cYou might find local gods in small towns and deep inside the swamps, but the New Gods rule the cities and influence the island.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo they get along?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure. The Guild handles construction and public development, the Network brings in high tech, and they collaborate where their interests meet.\u201d<\/p>\n
The New Gods collaborated often, even in Babylon and the other cities of Nova Babylonia. On the surface, they projected an image of harmony and goodwill. But Wood knew the truth: the New Gods all had competing agendas, and they would collaborate only to the extent necessary to pursue their own interests. Whatever they may be.<\/p>\n
\u201cSeems like the New Gods are bringing progress to Moreno Island,\u201d Wood remarked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah. Praise the Maker.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wood raised an eyebrow.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re a believer now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cSince when?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was admitted to the Guild last year.\u201d<\/p>\n
A touch of pride colored Matthews\u2019 voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t hear about that,\u201d Wood said.<\/p>\n
\u201cGuess we never got around to talking about it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy\u2019d you join up with them?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019ve done so much for us. As you said, they brought progress to Moreno Island. Housing, hospitals, business, tech. Everything you see outside the window, they built it. One day, we\u2019ll be just as developed as Babylon.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wood didn\u2019t know if it was a good thing. Glancing out the window again, he saw a brown and gray mosaic of concrete edifices bordered by shrinking green woods. The buildings were all blocky and functional and soulless, created with an eye towards rapid construction and nothing more.<\/p>\n
It was the preferred aesthetic of the Guild. Boxy, boring, utilitarian. But now and then some god-touched architect or engineer swung in the opposite direction, producing a masterwork that combined cutting-edge tech and radical design principles, so distinct and unique and impossible that only the Guild dared build and use them. These structures weren\u2019t just ordinary buildings; they were tributes and shrines to the Maker himself. Wood saw none of those god-constructs here. Nor did he want to.<\/p>\n
The brick-and-mortar tenements and shops of his youth might be old, but at least they had character. They had life. What he saw now was indistinguishable from Babylon, or any other major city where the New Gods held sway.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou signed up because of what they\u2019ve done?\u201d Wood asked. \u201cWhat about their beliefs?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAfter I learned about what they did for the island, I started looking into their beliefs, and I found that I just clicked with them,\u201d Matthews said.<\/p>\n
\u201cClicked? That\u2019s an interesting choice of words.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, take a look out there. We live in a world that obeys constant, reproducible, universal laws. These laws are the same everywhere you go. All of creation is orderly and rational and logical, explainable entirely by these universal laws. How can there not be a Maker that set down these laws?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe other New Gods claim they can shape reality as they see fit.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey can only manipulate the universal laws, or perhaps bend them in ways we can\u2019t explain. But they did not establish these laws and they can\u2019t break them.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wood wasn\u2019t a follower of the New Gods. All his life he\u2019d been raised to rely only on himself, his family, his tribe. They were the only ones you could count on for support. The benedictions and miracles the New Gods dispensed always came with a price, and woe be upon he who caught their attention.<\/p>\n
Even so\u2026<\/p>\n
Wood chuckled. \u201cYou know, I\u2019ve got a friend who said something similar to me once.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cReally? Is he a believer?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIn his own way. But he\u2019s a strange one.\u201d Wood shook his head. \u201cAnyway, speaking of gods, have you ever heard of a spirit named Aruk?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNope. Who\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n
The answer came easily and naturally. There was no deception in Matthews\u2019 eyes, only curiosity.<\/p>\n
\u201cBabylon PD says the Santiago Syndicate worships a Dark Power that calls itself Aruk. Know anything about that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh. The Santiagos.\u201d Matthews licked his lips. \u201cYou\u2019re in Public Security now, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d Wood replied.<\/p>\n
It was the truth. The Special Tasks Section fell under the ambit of the Public Security Bureau. Sure, in practice, STS usually acted semi-independently of the rest of the Bureau, but every STS operator was a fully-accredited PSB Special Agent.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you do now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow? I\u2019m working a narcotics investigation, targeting the Santiagos. Why\u2019d you ask?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust wanna know how well-read you are into them.\u201d<\/p>\n
Matthews\u2019 eyes flickered away, and his voice trembled slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cPretend I know nothing,\u201d Wood said. \u201cI mean, you\u2019re the guy on the ground, right? Us poor, dumb Pubes don\u2019t know shit.\u201d<\/p>\n
Matthews chuckled. \u201cRight, well, the Santiagos are the most powerful crime syndicate on the island. They have the most men, money, guns and juice. They specialize in narcotics. If you name it, they\u2019ve got it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI heard they\u2019re moving out of the dope biz to focus on Green Bliss.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou heard right. They\u2019re dumping their stock at cut-throat prices and letting their competitors take over the dope biz.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey hold a monopoly on the Bliss. People will pay through the nose for a single piece of fruit. With profits like that, everything else is a sideshow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Bliss turns psis into Husks, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
Matthews sighed. \u201cYeah. There\u2019s been\u2026 thirty of them in the past three years.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHoly\u00a0shit<\/em>. So many? How come I haven\u2019t heard of them?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe keep things quiet here. Besides, the New Gods help us with Husks.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally? How?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey have a contract with the SRT. If something\u2019s too dangerous for the SRT, their in-house security will assist.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t sound too happy about that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot really. The Elect have access to firepower and training above and beyond what the SRT can muster. If we\u2019re talking about Husks, they\u2019re the right people for the job.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAren\u2019t they undermining your authority?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, not at all. They\u2019re like\u2026 subcontractors. Specialists. They come in when SRT can\u2019t take care of the problem. They\u2019ll deal with Husks and other paranormal situations; we handle everything else.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIsn\u2019t STS the nationwide response unit for Husks?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow long does it take for STS to come here? Three, four hours? More? A Husk can do a lot of killing in that time. But the New Gods\u2019 Counter Assault Teams? They can be on site in a half hour or less, and still do as good a job as the STS.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTrue enough,\u201d Wood said. \u201cBut back to the Santiagos.\u201d<\/p>\n Matthews relaxed slightly.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you want to know?\u201d Matthews asked.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m here to shut down the Green Bliss at the source.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re taking on the Santiagos? All by yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m the advance party. I\u2019m just here to gather all the information I can. Someone else will do the door kicking.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh. The first thing you should know is that the Santiagos aren\u2019t in the cities.\u201d<\/p>\n Wood sat up.<\/p>\n \u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey have distributors and pushers in the cities, sure, and we know they ship Green Bliss to the mainland from Saint Lucile. But these guys are all small fry. Middle management at most.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019s the big fish?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe don\u2019t know exactly. We do know the Bliss is grown deep in plantations in swamp country, processed in a hidden facility, and distributed to the cities and towns via the rivers and backwood trails. The big boss, Raul Santiago, must be somewhere in swamp country.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNobody you picked up knows where the processing facility is?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, not even the mules. The Santiagos use one-time only dead drops to stash the Bliss. All the mules know is that every now and then, they receive a text message telling them to go somewhere and pick up the Bliss.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSounds like a sophisticated operation.\u201d<\/p>\n Matthews blew out sharply. \u201cIt is.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat can you tell me about Raul Santiago?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHis childhood is the same as most other kids here. He was born in Saint Lucille, went to school, found a talent in chemistry, then went to the mainland to get a degree. When he came back, he went to work as a high school teacher. Or at least he tried.<\/p>\n \u201cTwelve years ago, he dropped out of sight. As best as we can tell, he built a dope grow in the swamps and started pushing narcotics in Saint Lucile. We picked him up a couple of times, but all for chickenfeed offenses. He kept working at his drug business, slowly expanding and cutting deals with other suppliers, until he became the king of the island\u2019s narcotics scene.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUntil the Bliss appeared.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. Once it hit the streets, he dropped out of sight. He hasn\u2019t been seen in public for three years and counting.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFriends? Family?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re tracking many of his friends. But his family and his closest associates have disappeared.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s not how a drug kingpin typically operates. Why go through all that trouble of making illegal money without spending it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExactly. We can\u2019t understand it ourselves. It\u2019s like the swamp swallowed them up.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid he find religion or something?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot that we know of. I mean, he\u2019s still running his empire.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI mean a Dark Power.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs it that Aruk you mentioned earlier?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n Matthews shrugged. \u201cMaybe. Anything\u2019s possible if the gods are involved. Haven\u2019t heard of this one before, but I\u2019ll ask around.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThanks. One more favor?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre there any Santiago hotspots on the island?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe Sheriff could tell you that later.\u201d Matthews paused. \u201cYou are<\/em> going to see the Sheriff, right?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure, but since we\u2019re talking about the Santiagos and all, I might as well tell you too.\u201d<\/p>\n Matthews pursed his lips and shifted slightly in his seat. \u201cWell\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis is outside my jurisdiction, you understand? I just patrol Saint Lucille.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s a \u2018but\u2019 in there, right?\u201d<\/p>\n He nodded. \u201cBut now and then I hear the investigators talking, and sometimes deputies elsewhere in the island talk to me too. It\u2019s a small department, you understand.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAbsolutely.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey say the Santiagos have recently set up shop in the midlands. They\u2019ve spotted a number of known Santiago mules and distributors in the area. The investigators think there might be a distribution or supply hub in the region.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSounds like a lead.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, well, you\u2019re going to love the next part.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMost of that activity is centered on Hopton. Our hometown.\u201d<\/p>\n —<\/p>\n Want more stories of intense action, sharp tactics and gritty themes? Check out the\u00a0Kickstarter<\/a>\u00a0for HEROES UNLEASHED, where you’ll find details on my next novel!<\/p>\n![\"Cheah](\"https:\/\/steemitimages.com\/0x0\/https:\/\/files.steempeak.com\/file\/steempeak\/cheah\/MtyKcgJw-CheahGitSanRed.jpg\")
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