Future Continuous: Future Imperfect, #2

By J. Robert Maier

The Centaur secret agent Brooks is at it again, but this time he and his partner Elias are traveling to Africa to disrupt a trafficking operation. With a little help from local folks, they make their way through Africa on a road trip to a place known locally as the Bastille, where problems arrive, and they have to call for assistance from the team that Brooks has been training. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Robert Maier
• Release date: Aug 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223076919

Book preview

Prologue

The apartment was shabby , but all the lights were on; the faded paint on the walls cast everything in an eerie gloom, while the occupant was rushing to pack everything as neatly as possible. It wasn't an impossible task, but it wasn't easy. The eviction notice was taped to the still-open front door, as if touching it would make it more real somehow. The occupant was a Lamia, with her body wriggling from place to place rapidly in a controlled panic. She was still wearing her nurses' scrubs and occasionally glancing at her phone intently for some update. There wasn't much left, but she was still moving around rapidly, finally setting the last of the boxes down. Her worn suitcases had travel stickers from all over Canada and the United States, and there wasn’t much left to tell what color the luggage had been originally.

It was only after the moving-out preparations had been completed that she allowed herself a moments' respite, sliding herself into a large bowl-shaped wicker chair and picking at the frayed padding for a moment before finally settling into herself, looking from her phone to the door. As she read another text from someone who was sorry they couldn't help with a spare room, tears began to fall unnoticed until they splashed onto the phone surface. It seemed more and more likely as the night went on that she would be sleeping in her van on top of her worldly belongings for at least one night and quite possibly more.

There was a knock at the door, and filling it were two people she vaguely recognized as new-ish employees at the hospital. The large Centaur took up a lot of the doorway. He was a floater of sorts, generally running from place to place doing non-technical grunt work as needed - usually on the lower floors, as his bulk tended to make people nervous. Aside from the size, he was rather average looking, an easily forgettable Caucasian face that blended in with all the other somewhat handsome but not stunning men she'd known. As she looked at his suit, she did note that it looked fairly expensive, and in addition he had an odd knot in his tie. The female Erinyes from the administrative section had a slightly different suit, with a charcoal suit that highlighted her grey eyes and copper skin, with a very small briefcase at her side. Her iridescent wings were closely folded, giving the appearance of a soldier about to perform some planned task. Her suit didn't look quite as expensive, but only because it was easier to tailor a suit around wings than it was to provide a gentlemans' suit for a Centaur. She picked some fuzz from her dark charcoal power-suit and cocked her head.

May we come in? The womans' voice had an odd lilt to it, as if she had a different native tongue than the one spoken.

The Lamia blinked a few times before nodding. The pair made their way in with the Centaur removing the eviction notice from the door before taking a position in the kitchen, but watching the two ladies as well as the door. He remained silent while the Erinyes did the talking.

We heard about your getting fired today. Very nasty business. She unlatched the briefcase and brought out a small sheaf of papers as she continued. But, your suspicions were correct. The hospital administration was funneling money to offsite projects dealing specifically with juvenile Neo types. They were there trying to induce Changes in an attempt to subsequently reverse them. The mortality rate was excessive, but the research is ongoing. Hospital administration also has friends at the post office who intercept packages like the one you sent to the local news. No need to spend money on PR scandals if the scandals don't happen. And then they fired you, and according to a friend of mine who's good with computers, your name's already in the database of every medical staffing agency as a Do Not Hire. You might be able to get a job as a nurses' aide in Inuvik or maybe Yellowknife.

The Lamias' face took on a hard set. So, what do you want me to do about it?

Quite honestly, there's not much you can do by yourself. But you'll be pleased to know that we have friends who are already ensuring that these experiments will not go un-noticed by the population at large. However that in itself will cause a reaction. There are groups at large who approve of these experiments, but know that their approval isn't going to win them any points with the public. The real problem is that they'll be able to pin the blame on you, and their methods of expressing disapproval can be quite, shall we say violent.

There were a few moments before the Lamia narrowed her eyes and uncoiled herself from the chair. You set this up.

The Erinyes held up a hand. Had your idea succeeded, you would be in a very similar situation. We're here to assist with the repercussions of your plan.

There were a few moments while the Lamia considered. So...what now?

The Erinyes' face cracked a smile. Now, we get you out of here. Ever been to Paris?

There was a headshake in reply. No, but I knew someone from Paris who said my French was quite good – for a Canadian.

The Erinyes took a pouch from her briefcase and tossed it at the chair. Come on then. You can take a few mementos, but we need to leave most of this behind. It's hard, but our friends will need it to ensure that nobody looks for you once you leave.

The pouch was opened and perused. There was a quizzical look from the Lamia. Who is Marie-Phillipe?

That would be you. As for the rest of the introductions, the large silent one over there is Peter, and you may call me Elias.  We'll explain more on the flight. Elias paused. Welcome to the Friends of Jacques.

Chapter 1

The first problem I had currently was the location. Specifically, I was in the Savoie region of France - basically the eastern part of the country, which according to my briefing packet was heavy into wine-making, dairy farming, and tourism. Currently with the turn to autumn there was a lot going on, and the nights were getting chilly.

However, I wasn't there for a wine and cheese festival, and I most certainly wasn't there to take in the mountains. I was there because a group called Edens' Light was doing something that seemed a bit off. Publicly, they were heavily involved in the retraining and re-employment of Neotypes for new careers after their Change. What was not public knowledge was that they were using their new Neotype employees as 'unpaid interns' - and they were very tight-lipped about that. That was the best part of this whole thing. We'd managed to get someone in, and she was able to send us back some video and audio that was rather disturbing. Unpaid interns were everywhere, security was discrete but tight, and folks who got out of line were punished along with everyone who shared their Neotype.

As far as the work itself, a lot of it depended on what you could do – however it was for the most part demeaning and physical. Once the interns were done for the day, they were caged in a barn that wasn't exactly climate-controlled, ventilated, or comfortable. Recordings were piped in about how they were lesser creatures, and that the Neo types simply needed to understand that this was punishment for their sins. Once they had fully repented of their wicked ways, there would be a miracle and they would be reborn as humans. It was all very uncomfortable, and it was not something that my employer was willing to condone. Thus it was that three of us were dispatched to correct this.

Along with myself, there was Elias – she was an Erinyes, with amazing wings and a sharp disposition. She was currently loitering about five hundred feet above me with a pair of night vision goggles and a radio to keep in contact with me and my son Jeremiah, who was currently riding on my back with a laptop and a face that was radiating don't bother me I'm thinking. Under his helmet he had two and a half feet of hair and beard that had grown horribly messy in the last week, which was typical for Dwarves under stress. I hunkered down and waited for his go.

It took an eternity, but finally I got the three taps on my shoulder that meant he'd disabled everything electronic that he could. I tapped my own comm system twice to let Elias know that we were on the move. From there, I scooched up to all four feet and gave a very quick stretch before doing a five yard run and leap over the fence and irrigation ditch to land with as little noise as about half a ton of Centaur could.

Yep, I'm another one of those Neotypes, and my son's a Dwarf. It's not exactly certain how someone who becomes a Neotype does, but it's partially genetic, and partially based on their own personality. With Dwarves, it was mostly computer programming; as always there was never a one-hundred percent rate, but it was in the high nineties.

That said, I wasn't here to give a lecture on Neotypes and their relative dispositions, I was here because someone (quite possibly several someones) needed a punch in the mouth for what they were doing. And the good news was that I was loaded for punching a lot of mouths if I needed to. A shotgun for breaching doors, pistols for close-in action, and a rifle just in case. Since I was also probably going to be shot at for this little act of trespassing, I had a large flexible set of body armor covering my entire body from neck to tail.

There were three main structures we were concerned with – the first was the building that was ostensibly labeled living quarters. It was a barn in every sense of the word – couple stories high, and while I could smelly hay, it wasn't the only thing I could smell. The second thing that concerned me was the communications shack. That said, Jere seemed to have that under control, as I could hear him giggling softly. He'd Changed at sixteen and now at eighteen, he'd established himself as one of the best researchers the Friends of Jack had - and there wouldn't have been an argument if he just decided to stick to the lab. As it was, he seemed to enjoy coming on these field trips with me; he said it helped remind him that there was a world connected to his laptop.

Going through rows of grapes, I wasn't exactly moving quietly, but I was moving as lowly as I could. We made our way to the shack, where one man was outside casually smoking a cigarette while his partner was inside and mostly paying attention to the soccer game on one of the monitors he was ostensibly supposed to be watching.

Jeremiah slid down from my back and got a few things together, while I prepared to show the smoker outside just how many ways that was bad for his health. I couldn't really sneak up on him, but I could definitely distract him. I walked up to him casually and waited for him to notice my existence.

For my trouble, I was sneered at. Get back in the barn, nag. I was about to fire off a rejoinder when the lights in the shack went out. The guard was confused right up until I punched him in the face. Unfortunately for both of us, I punched the lit ember of the cigarette, which resulted in him choking on the remains of his smoke and a tiny burn on my knuckles. That was gonna sting later, but I didn't exactly have time to find a band-aid, as his partner was getting to his feet and bringing a shotgun around to dispense some hurt to someone. I was going to have to do something quickly to keep things from getting worse, so I spun to put my rear in the door and fired a gentle kick to the poor schlubs' head. He fell backward and didn't move, but his chest kept moving.

Problem solved. I dug in my pouches and found the duct tape and some zip ties, with which I was able to tie the two guards back-to-back. So far, the plan was going pretty well. While I was busy restraining, Jeremiah was restoring power to the comm shack and checking on some things. He didn't have good news, and I could see it on his face as he whispered urgently to me.

So the barn's pretty secure, but the main house is a fortress. I shut down all the automated security, but going in would be a real bad thing. He grimaced a little, apparently mad that he couldn't do anything about it. I took a look at the main house structure where all the Unchanged folks lived, and it was almost palatial in the sliver of moonlight that was peeking out. They even had a helipad off to the side. I thought about it for a moment before turning back to Jere.

So, can you lock 'em in? Given that the idea was to get the Neo types in the barn out, bottling up any sort of opposition to that idea would be a good thing.

Jere's eyes lit up as he looked over his laptop. Oooh. Yea, I can manage that.

While you're at it, open the barn door?

Can't do that. Doesn't look like they've got electronics on those doors.

Well, we'll just have to do it the old fashioned way. Have at it, Blackbeard. After his first mission went well, Jeremiah had insisted on Blackbeard as his permanent call-sign. The same thing applied to Elias, who on missions was known as Tisiphone. Given the origin as one of the Furies of old who punished murderers, she seemed fit for the role. I was the only one who had requested a new call-sign, and was rather insistent until the folks in charge relented and allowed me to be known as Omaha. Call-signs for what were considered 'perfect' missions were generally permanent, as they were considered good luck. Male Centaur call-signs simply had to be Triple Crown winners, which was also supposed to be good luck.

I got weird looks when I made the initial request, but I'd come back from several jobs like this fairly intact, so they let me keep it. I broke radio silence at this point to let some people know what was happening.

Tisiphone, Omaha requesting your presence in three minutes – bring some people.

Three minutes, mark. One small blessing was that Elias was all business. At least for now. I galloped toward the barn since we didn't have to worry about raising an alarm, courtesy of Jeremiah. Once I was there, I found the entry door and tried to open it. Maybe they were lazy and didn't lock it. They were not lazy, unfortunately. I threw my shoulder into it a few times and felt a little give, but not enough.

It was time for the twelve-gauge skeleton key. I checked, racked, and fired three rounds before pushing the door down. The interior was lightless and filled with sleeping forms. There was an intense reek of odors from people who hadn't washed properly in a while. There was an undercurrent in all this as something smelled funny. I started getting dizzy and promptly backed out – there was a bad feeling in my stomach that I didn't like, and I needed more information. If three rounds from a shotgun didn’t stir the occupants, there was a whole lot of not-good happening.

Blackbeard, get over here. We need to open some doors. I threw my mask on and flicked on my headlamp to look around clearly. What I saw was not good. Dozens upon dozens of unconscious forms in cages stacked all the way to the very very high ceiling, and looking down were yet more rows of cages, along with minimal spaces for sewage and food. From what I knew, the people in charge of this place were very interested in doing the bare minimum for their 'unpaid interns' while working them into exhaustion. But they were sparing no expense when it came to controlling the interns, and also when it came to their own luxuries. The manse where the Unchanged stayed reminded me of historical nobility. From what I had seen in the briefing packet, the walls had paintings from all over which had a very similar theme; the Unchanged were the masters, and the Neotypes were not. Still, that was something to be dealt with later. First things first, open the large doors and find out what was going on with the folks in the barn.

I looked and found a crank which seemed to have seen some use and had a purpose. I put my back to it and the doors began to separate slowly, allowing fresh air to come in. As I did that, I could hear the faint whump of a helicopter coming in to land on the pad. Jere came in and looked around himself, tapping a few buttons on his laptop after throwing his own mask on.

Some kinda knockout gas. No wonder nobody ran away, they probably couldn't. He tapped a few more buttons and found a switch, kicking on some overhead lighting as folks in cages started waking up. The thing that was most concerning to me was that there were no noises beyond the bare minimum for movement. It was surreal as I watched folks stand mechanically and simply wait for the cage bars to move and allow them out for another day of work.

My earpiece clicked once before I heard Elias' voice in my ear. Omaha, Rescue-One is at the pad, no resistance. Evac is green, make it happen.

For my own part, my eyes began adjusting as the lights came up and I didn't like what I saw one bit. Cages stacked on cages, and no thought provided to decency or courtesy. The smells and silence were disconcerting, but the oddest thing was seeing folks of all stripes placidly walk down the ramp and look at me like I was in charge.

Well, I was, but at the same time I was a fairly unhappy person. I started waving them toward the helicopter pad, where they all filed obediently to board. I started counting numbers before tapping my radio once.

Tisiphone, advise the mothership we're going to need at least four more evac runs. Tell Intel to listen to our numbers next time.

Acknowledged Omaha. there was a pause. Mothership advises additional evac en-route, thirty minutes.

And with that I started hustling folks out and counting, watching as the first helicopter came in and a second one landed to take its' place. and with that the line started moving again, as the folks who were in the barn began to move silently forward to whatever fate awaited them. As I watched, I began to worry a bit. A lot of what we knew about this came from someone who'd gone undercover, and I had definite concerns about how they were going to react. Fortunately, the moving them out process was fairly quick, and we had almost everyone out in no time. Well, except for our undercover one. I looked over as the last helicopter departed and Elias landed. I did have a moments' pause as I looked over her properly geared self. Five and half feet of Blackfeet Indian, with four and a half feet of hair when unbraided, and about eight feet of wingspan tip to tip. Although at this point in time, the only way a casual observer could tell that she was a she would be by her voice – and possibly if they looking closely, her gray eyes.

Omaha, where's Blackbeard?

He's with Rhinemaiden. I nodded over to where Jere was standing with a gold-colored centaur – the only one in this whole carnival who was displaying any emotion, and that was quite possibly only due to the fact that Jere was fussing next to her as she was laying on her stomach. Even with that her emotions seemed muted. The two of them had bonded within minutes of their first meeting as a result of what was called Instinctive Compatibility Sensitivity. It was a characteristic of Neotypes – nobody really knew how it happened or why, but for Neotypes they could look at someone and instantly fall in love. And it seemed pretty much permanent.

Personally, it wasn't something I was interested in. I had enough on my plate already – I had to take care of Jeremiah and 'Rhinemaiden' (known as Rebecca when we weren't busy doing things like this), I had to take care of Max (our cat), and I had to make sure Elias was herself. I didn't have time to stare at every Neotype on the planet and see if there was a spark. Even without that, I had a job to do. Currently, that job was to gather information on the folks in the mansion, who had not been idle while we were evacuating their interns. They hadn't been able to get out, but they hadn't been idle. So now it was time to ask some questions.

I whistled for Jeremiah. Blackbeard, we need a door opened. Tis and I are going to have a talk with the folks running this ranch. And then we're probably going to take a ride in the country for a bit, maybe take a nap and have a nice breakfast. You stay out here with Rhinemaiden and we'll be back in a minute.

Jere nodded, flipping open his laptop as Elias and I advanced to the front door and opened it. As soon as the latches unlocked, three people tried to get out. They were promptly caught as I made a darn good barrier to their exit. The three of them were dropped against the porch railing with zipties and duct tape gags so they couldn't alert anyone else, all with looks of anger and fear in their eyes.

Interrogations would come later, first Elias and I had to clear the house. It was a slow, methodical process, as there'd been a few surprises left for me and folks like me – they'd had some time to prepare while we were evacuating everyone else. There was an odd familiarity to this dance – I’d had training in urban warfare during my time in the Army, and a slightly modified version of it when I became a police officer after mustering out. We'd had conversations with the authorities beforehand and they promised they'd be slow to respond as long as we kept the disturbance to a minimum. They didn't want anything messy to interrupt the tourism season, and we were happy to help with that - the down side of that was that we had to use prybars and physics instead of the twelve-gauge master key at times. We found six people on the first floor and three more on the second. The attic itself was a fortified