THE GENERAL

 

Monday January 13 - 0814 MST

Two days until Turbocharger activates

 

When you become a general you quickly get acquainted with a new phenomenon. Everywhere you go in your career you are the biggest presence in the room. Unless you get called to the White House or a Congressional hearing, of course. Lots of egos competing for the top dog spot in those places. That's how it was ever since I put silver stars on my shoulders.

Until I came across Lucius Rofocales.

That black bearded bastard had taken the fine art of presence and mastered it like Mozart with a piano. With a few quiet words he had Pierce Carver, a US Senator of all people, handing me a list of demands. Though the sheet was titled Recommended Actions In Preparation For TURBOCHARGER Activation it read like a list of marching orders for me and my people. There was no doubt that these weren't just recommendations. I either did as black beard wanted or the Senator would find someone else who would.

"Mister Rofocales has an extensive background in these matters, General." I was getting tired of Senator Carver parroting that phrase. I'd heard it the first thirty times he'd said it. At least his toady Gibbs wasn't here to repeat it back in stereo to me. He was still picking up the pieces at his beach house. "While I'm certain your people can do an adequate job on their own, we really should follow this list of recommendations to the letter."

Scanning down the list I could see why Rofocales needed a damned senator to push them. I would never have approved the list on my own. "You honestly can't expect me to sign off on this? Moving this individual from C-Watch would be incredibly dangerous. You know this."

The name on the list was one Wayne Peter Colley, though our intel people had given him a reporting name: Photon. He was a human infused with the same otherworldy mumbo-jumbo that had given us our other Primes. In Colley's case it was the ability to absorb particles of light—photons—and then release them whenever and however he wanted. He was a human laser emitter, and before he was caught and imprisoned in C-Watch he went on a rampage that ended with two dead, three permanently blinded, and a lot more hospitalized. We were forced to keep him a cell with no lights to keep him from cutting the door off its hinges. Trying to move him would only end with more dead. We couldn't risk that or the prospect of having him on the loose.

"We need exactly four Primes in the Turbocharger facility or it won't work." Rofocales's smooth voice seemed to drain the hostility right out of the air. And yet again his presence took over from mine. "We only have three Primes left in the project. We'll need to pull Colley if we want to make four."

"Ah, what about Adam?" Carver added futilely. I knew it was a pointless question because a guy like Rofocales wouldn't leave such an obvious alternative open. "He's a Prime."

Carver really was a jackass.

Rofocales shook his head, respectfully but dismissively. He held up two fingers and folded them in as he counted off his points. "Point one, he was removed from the project and we have no clue where he's at right now. Turbocharger has to be activated in two days or we will miss our window, and I would rather not gamble with something this important. Point two, Adam is dangerous. You do not want him around. Don't be fooled by his act. He will bring you down if you let him back in."

I never actually felt threatened by Adam, but some part of me wanted to believe Rofocales's words. "Alright, what's this about a sedative then?" I pointed back at the list of "recommendations". "Sedatives don't work on Primes. Their cell biology takes down foreign chemicals with extreme prejudice."

"Normal sedatives, General." Rofocales didn't even blink. He'd expected my rebuke. Bastard. "We've known of a special formula that can overcome a Prime's biological defenses. That's what I've had Doctor Arden working on the last few weeks. He's one of a handful of people on the planet capable of pulling it off."

"Okay, so we're drugging Colley and dragging him off to Turbocharger." My finger moved down the list to the next point of contention. "Do you really think it's necessary to sedate the friendly Primes?"

I was getting to like the other three. They were all vets with clean records which was good in my book and all were very obedient, which was even better. The red head, Chase, was also quite easy on the eyes. It was hard to miss all the turning heads when she was around. So it was grating on my conscience that Rofocales expected me to have them drugged and carted off like that criminal Colley. They were honest and loyal Americans that deserved better.

"It's purely a safety precaution." Rofocales leaned back in his chair like he was getting comfortable. "The literature on the procedure was quite clear that the Turbocharger process would be very traumatic. We don't want the Primes getting cold feet at the last moment. If even one is missing the entire project will be for naught."

It was absolutely imperative we got our Primes the power boost promised by Turbocharger. Other nations were building their own Prime programs, and the US was at risk of falling behind. Countries like China and India, with their vastly larger populations and chances at acquiring Primes organically, were projected to have teams much larger than our own. We had to close that gap quickly, those were the President's marching orders. Because the next war would be fought with exos and we couldn't afford to lose that one.

If the promise of Turbocharger panned out the next step would be to empower regular people into Primes. Being able to make our own would nullify the population advantage of those competing nations. And while it might be cold to treat these three patriots this way, their sacrifice would mean the safety of millions more.

There was a knock at my door and then the guard stationed out front opened it to allow Rick Arden inside. Looking like an unkempt mess Rick Arden plopped down in an open seat. The old holdover from the sixties turned scientist smiled with white teeth that parted an equally white mustache that hung like limp cotton over the corners of his mouth. "Good morning, gentlemen. I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

He did, but pointing that out would have been a further waste of everyone's time. Rofocales stole the floor again and spoke for the rest of us. "Doctor, thank you for joining us. If you wouldn't mind, could you take a moment to explain the sedative you've been working on for me?"

And he did just that, in exhaustive detail. Too exhaustive in fact. Most of it I didn't follow, but enough of my college biology came back to tell me that some of the stuff he was blathering on about went against scientific consensus. Even he mentioned it a few times. But that was par for the course in our line of work. We dealt with things that went beyond human understanding on a daily basis.

And it looked like the good doctor had done what he was best at: finding a way around our understanding of science to make things happen.

He had the sedative done, and tomorrow we would begin putting it to work.