Date: Sat, 27 Oct 2001 15:13:36 -0700 From: Dan Kirk Subject: the_wreckers_chapter1 This story contains homoerotic situations and descriptions. It also contains violence. The violence, and the sex for that matter, are not gratuitous. They are part of the story. If this is illegal where you reside, or you are not of legal age, read no further! Otherwise, enjoy. All work remains the property of the owner, and is printed on this web site, and it's authorized mirrors/affiliates by permission of the author. Any other printing, distribution, etc. is prohibited. I would like to say one thing about the beginning of this chapter. "The Wreckers" is set mostly in our near future. I first thought up the outline for this chapter about four months ago. Recent events caused me to wait a little before actually writing it out. What I did write could not help but be affected by what happened. However, I strongly believe in the Law of Unintended Consequences, and went ahead and included it as part of this story, as part of the catalyst. Whatever we do, there are always consequences that we never intended. I for one, would love to see the bastards responsible for last month, and for the events happening now, to hang from a gibbet (yeah, we don't execute people like that, but I'd like to see it). Due to the short time that has elapsed since the attack on our country, and our current situations, I have shortened this part of the story by leaving a lot of stuff dealing with actual events out. The Wreckers Chapter 1 - Beginnings Inside the huge inner sanctum of the ancient temple, soft golden light spilled out 20 feet above the platform in the middle of the room. 10,000 people could easily have fit into this room, but for now, only two people, both without any clothing, occupied it. One sat in the great chair in the middle of the platform. Great age seemed to surround him, even though physically appeared to be about 17. His body was well-built, the bangs of his blond hair flowed over his crystal blue eyes, while the sides were cut short. In front of him, sitting indian style on the floor, was another blond boy. Hair cut short all around, he rested in front of the chair, waiting for the promised story to begin. "Tell me, Andrei" began the figure in the chair, "What do you know of the beginnings of the shapers?" "I thought you were going to tell me about it J'Stan, you were there after all" "Hehe, I was at that." chuckled J'Stan. "It's a pity there's no one else left. Of course, after 10,000 years it's a little tough to remain interested in this damn planet." "10,000 years!" Has it really been that long?" asked Andrei. "Unfortunately, Yes! But let's see where to start. It's been so long since I thought about that time. I wrote that book, that you called the Book of J'Stan, about a 1,000 years ago or so. That way I didn't have to remember it. But like humans throughout time, your people let it burn." "Then you should have made it fireproof!" quipped the boy sitting on the stone floor, his bare butt wishing the stone would warm up. "Well, whatever. What is past, is past. The only real stricture of a shaper, and only because we refused to give in to the temptation to try to change it - we do not change the past. To get started, I assume you know about the Wreckers?" he paused as the boy nodded his head. "Good. But for the people living in that time, it wasn't thought of as a time wreckage or carnage. Instead, it was thought of as the Golden Age of humanity. We ruled the Earth. Cities stretched out across every land. The great nations kept their grip on the things that mattered to them. Oil, gold, gems, technology. But the wealth was not spread out throughout the world. In some places, people starved from not enough food. Others died of virulant diseases. In one city a child dies from not enough food, in another a child laughs as he throws food at his best friend." As the shaper talked, the room around the platform changed, Andrei could no longer see the far walls of the chamber. A soft, muted light filled the room and colors appeared. As the shaper continued, images began to appear of what he spoke. A young child, his skin as dark as chocolate, wasted away. Two other children appeared, throwing food at each other, laughing in high pitched childish innocence. "For the first time in humanity's history, we could hear and see events happening around the world in seconds. We reached out to the heaven's and tried to understand them. We listened and wondered if we truly were alone." Images of the starry night sky filled the room. A small blue ball hung in the middle, all alone in the night. "But how could we be alone when there were 7 billion of us right here on this ball of rock? Wars were fought, sometimes involving almost every nation on the planet. 60 years after the last one of those, the world was wracked again by a new kind of conflict. A conflict between those who prospered in the world of technology, and those who didn't. It was different than any war before that and it was what caused this time to be known as the Time of the Wreckers." Now great explosions filled the room, buildings collapsed, people died. "At the time, I lived in one of the great nations called the United States. There was a region, a state, known as Arizona, and I lived in the largest city there." Arid, dry vistas appeared around them. Red rock, brown desert floors, and waves of heat radiating from the ground. A great city appeared, with buildings that reached into the sky like jagged fingers. "I was in my 30's around that time. Just an ordinary guy living in a big city. I worked at a job in an office, just like most of the people around me. I had a little apartment, more because I could afford it than I liked it. I'd been alone for 5 or 6 years after my last relationship had ended, never really wanting another one. "I remember watching the news as events unfolded, as we took our revenge, suffered retaliation, and struck out again. Years went by and things barely changed. Victories were declared, more violence burst out. Would you believe we elected, picked, our leaders at that time? For months, whoever would want office would prance around, promising to make us happy and cure all the world's ills for us, just to get enough of us to vote for them to win. New people came into power, promising to finish off things for good. Little did they, or we know just how right they were. "But," interrupted Andrei, "what does this have to do with being a shaper? Why didn't you or any of the other shapers do anything to stop it?" "Hehe, I forgot the questions of the young, "chuckled J'Stan. "We didn't do anything about it because we were HUMAN, just like those people outside this chamber right now. Human as you were until you came in here. I was born, had a mother and father just like you. Of course they died years before these started happening, and most of my family was dead or living elsewhere." Images of people long dead floated on the outside of the dais, and pained look crossed the shaper's face before he continued. "What this has to do with being a shaper, is that these events led to us being created. You see, as the years progressed, these strikes became more and more terrible. More and more terrible weapons were being used. Finally, a device was used that altered the chemical structure of oil, and as was discovered later, some people. Oil is what was used to power the machines that made society work, and society depended on oil for it's survival. "No one knew who set it off, or should I say, none of the regular people knew. I imagine some governments knew, but they didn't let their own people know. This device, or devices, went off and sent some type of energy wave throughout the planet. Whatever it was meant to do, it changed the chemical structure of all the oil still in the ground so that it would no longer provide fuel for our machines. For some reason, it didn't affect fuel that had already been processed for use, just that which had not been processed. "It was a few months before the world found out what had happened to the oil. It was a little longer before we found out what else this wave had done to a few of us. For now though, our society was built on the use of oil. Oil made everything work, and with our source of it destroyed. We had only a little left. Our great society, our just cause, collapsed down around our ears. Cities rioted, troops tried to quell them, killing millions of citizens. In my desert city, we were both lucky and unlucky. We were lucky in that of all the alternate power sources for our machines, we had two of the most plentifu - Sun and Wind. Great works began immediately. Panels were set up to gather in the energy of the sun to power machines, windmills were built to harness the power of the wind. Despite that, not enough power was generated to let us live in the comfort we had grown up with. "You don't know what a desert is like, do you Andrei?" suddenly, the room became warm, very warm. Sweat beaded up all over his body as the stone, which had been freezing his butt, began to burn. "Our machines kept the heat of the desert from killing us. Kept our tempers from being loosed, kept that inner demon all humans live with chained with comfort. "We lost that. People became enraged. They would lash out at each other. I had lost my job because I could no longer use my car to travel to work. But I found a new one guarding the new power plants. I was rich because of my new job. I lived in a new place, kept cool by one of the few precious machines allowed to waste power that way. "One day, I felt lonelier than usual and decided to go get a drink and meet some people at a local bar. Like most public places in that day, it was hot. Fans stirred warm air, and people gathered to talk about the day, and drown their miseries in alcohol. As I sat there, talking to people I knew, trying to find someone I was interested in to take back to my cool apartment, I was interrupted. "Three men came storming into the bar, all holding guns. Screaming at the top of their lungs, the three shoved people out of their way, and demanded money from everyone there. The young man next to me, who I had been working on getting to know, decided he didn't want to hand over his money. Instead, he pulled a gun out from somewhere and fired at one of the men. The man he shot fell to the ground and the other two opened fire at the man next to me. Of course I got hit in the process. For some reason, this pissed me off. I mean really pissed me. "Pushing myself off the ground, I looked at the body of the young man in front of me. All around us were the bodies people I had known for years, killed in the hail of bullets thrown our way. For some reason, the two remaining thieves were just staring at me. Really pissed, I grated out ' You shouldn't have done that' and reached across the bar and strangled them. As their last breath gurgled out of their throats, I suddenly realized that something was not right. "First, I was reaching across TWENTY feet of bar space, wrapping my fingers around the throats of two men (quite ugly men too). The second thing I noticed were the bullet holes. My clothes were full of bullet holes and covered in gore. I saw at least ten holes from bullets, but I didn't feel any pain at all. Pulling my arms back, I poked a finger into one of the holes in my shirt (my damn favorite shirt too!) and felt only smooth skin underneath. My arms were no longer twenty feet long, by they looked different too. The signs of my age were gone. My skin was smoother, tighter, than it had been in a decade. Looking into a mirror, I realized with a shock, that I LOOKED a lot longer than I had a few moments before. In fact, I looked like I had at 17! Suddenly, the room around Andrei began to swirl, he was looking at the bar, the figure of a different J'Stan looking at itself in the mirror of the bar. The image began to spin around him until it became a blur. Shaking his head, Andrei closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them, he saw... The same image he had seen a few moments ago. Him, Justin Ackeman, just like he had looked at 17! This was impossible! His hair was still close cropped for the heat. His favorite electric blue t-shirt was filled with holes, stained with blood. His khaki shorts were also stained. But the face, his body, was all different. Gone were the sagging signs of approaching age, the laughlines around his eyes. So enraptured with this miracle, Justin didn't even notice all the people streaming out of the bar, or the hum of the police's electric vehicles showing up. Outside, the survivors of the gunfight were being herded by the police into a shaded area for questioning. There were 20 people out there, and they got 20 different stories. But one thing was clear, all of them remembered seeing a guy reach across 20 feet and strangling the two remaining would-be robbers. Inside the bar, another team of police had entered the establishment with guns drawn. There were about 20 bodies lying on the ground, mostly around the body of the young man who had drawn his gun rather than his wallet. Standing in the middle of the carnage, facing a mirror and chuckling softly was a young man. 'Definitely too young to be in a bar' thought the policemen. Walking over to the kid, the leader of the team, a grizzled seargant, veteran of the riots a year before, walked up to the kid and gently shook his shoulder to get his attention. The kid just kept on staring in the mirror. Getting a little riled, the seargant yelled in the kids' ear "HEY!" With a start, Justin realized there was a policeman standing next to him. For someone well into his fourties, the officer was fairly good looking. Putting on his best, most charming smile, Justin apologized "Sorry, seargant, I, um, am just so shocked at being alive I guess I lost it for a moment. Thank you, I'll be leaving now" with that, he turned to leave, but the policeman's firm grip on his shoulder stopped him. "First off, son, you are going to need to answer some questions, then I'm afraid you're gonna have to come downtown with us. Being in a bar is a serious offense and you will have to answer for it, as will the owner of the bar." Justin's short guffaw seemed to startle the policeman. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and flipped open his ID. "As you can see, I'm an employee of the Power Department. Unless you are going to charge me with murder, rape, or theft, you have no authority to detain me. Besides, 36 is more than old enough to be in a bar." Shaking his head at the fake - or stolen- ID, the seargant was disappointed at the kid's attempt to get out of trouble. "Son, he said, I wish you hadn't done that. You're under arrest for lying to an officer, presenting false identification, and impersonating a Power Department Employee." As a look of surpise and shock grew across the kid's face, the grizzled officer swung him around and handcuffed him. A quick search revealed no weapons and the kid offered no resistance as he was led away. On the ride downtown, Justin sat in the back of the electric police car and tried to process everything through. 'Ok,' he thought. 'Obviously I look young to that cop too. When he saw a picture of a 36 year old guy on the I.D., he assumed I was trying to pass off a fake. When they get me downtown, they'll fingerprint me, and those will match up. Then they'll know I'm who I am and I can go home to try to figure this out. Ok, I can deal with this.' In his 36 years, Justin's life had been far from uneventful. He'd served in the Navy, been through a short war, faced some bigots at home who got pissed when he told them he was gay. Lost most of his family through illness or accident. When the riots started, he'd helped the government put them down, helped restore order, and in recognition of his efforts, been awarded a comfortable job with the new Power Department. Prestige, money, and air conditioning made the latter part of his 30's bearable. However, since the "event" as everyone called it, he had not heard from his best friend who lived in California, or any of his remaining family. His sister and her kids might as well as not exist, separated as they were on the East Coast. Oh, the United States still existed, barely. The federal government was now second to the states, and to the local cities. Used mainly to prevent flare-ups between states over issues of power, water, and food. Once a great nation focused on bringing it's way of life to the world, the US now tried to keep itself, and it's citizens alive. Governments were forced to pass strict laws to keep the thin fabric of society together, and it did not look kindly on anyone who flouted it's authority in any way. As they reached the police station, the seargant brought the boy out of the police car. He couldn't believe the kid actually got his hands on a Power Department ID. 'Probably seduced the poor shmuck and took it,' he thought. Oh well, the law would deal with him, harshly but fairly. By this time, Justin was just ready to get things over with. As he was led into the building, he was overwhelmed by the smell. Sweat, mold, hundreds of sour smells roiled out of the entry way. Outside it was hot, over 110 degrees today. Inside, it was like a broiler. The fans barely moved the stagnant air, and hundreds of bodies sweating made it seem like sweat house. Use to the cool confines of the Power Department, these smells and the heat overwhelmed him. Gagging for air, he stumbled, held upright only by the strong grasp of the policeman on his arm. They made their way to the booking station where the handcuffs were removed and his fingerprints taken. They made him take off his bullet-ridden clothes, and gave him a loose, pink jumper to wear. They led him to a small, closed room. The classic one-way mirror against one wall. No fan even attempted to cool the hot stuffy room, and Justin was left alone while his prints were processed. Outside, the duty lieutenant took the reports of the officers from the scene. This was the first real violence that had happened in Phoenix in over a month. Put together, the reports were incredulous, to say the least. They definitely fit the description of special orders he had been given. Picking up his telephone, he made a short phone call to the military base just outside the city limits. Waiting for the prints to be processed by the lone computer allowed to operate here, the seargant thought about the boy. Strange, his shirt was full of bullet clothes, covered in blood, but not a scratch on him. His fellow policmen reported the eyewitnesses as saying this boy, dressed in the same clothes as the man identified as Justin Ackeman had appeared after the shooting started and reached across 20 feet to strangle the two would-be robbers. Then he'd just looked into the mirror and started chuckling. Odd, very odd. Finally the clerk at the computer stood up with a printout. "Confirmed, seargant." he said. Snatching the printout, the seargant saw a picture that matched the one on the ID he had been shown: **** Justin Ackeman. Age 36 Employer: Federal Power Department, Phoenix, Arizona Home Address: Power Department Complex, Phoenix, Arizona Military History: US Navy, 1988-1992. Reactivated by Federal order 2006 Released 2007 for employment in Power Department Grade: E-6 Criminal History: None Note: Do not apprehend or detain except upon approval of Duty Captain! **** "Are you sure about this?" the seargant asked the clerk. "Absolutely. It's a clear match on all ten prints. There's no way there could be a mistake." responded the clerk. "Well, this definitely looks to be something the Lieutenant needs to see." said the seargant as he turned to go find the lieutenant. Back in the interrogation room, Justin was desperately wishing for something cool to drink. Sweat streamed down his face, and his body as a whole. It had to be at least 130 degrees in here. Idly, he wondered who was on the other side of that mirror, and when they'd start talking to him. His imagination wandered until he could swear he saw a lieutenant standing on the other side of the mirror. Then, the door behind the lieutenant opened and the grizzled seargant who had arrested him walked in. "Sir," he said as the lieutenant jumped a little. "The fingerprints matched up. According to the computer, that kid in there IS Justin Ackeman. I don't understand how they got in to do it, but obviously, someone's fiddling with our records" Turning from his observations of the young man, the lieutenant took the printout from the seargant. Reading it over, he just sighed as he realized that this was a mystery big enough he'd probably never learn the answers, much less the seargant learning them either. "Good work, Seargant" he told the veteran, "However, I am about to give you some orders that you must pay special attention to. Failure to follow them carries the penalty of death under the Treason and Sedition Act of 2005." seeing the startlement on the man's face, he continued, "Yes, that means execution without trial or arrest upon simple suspicion of having violated said orders. Do you understand this seargant?" Swallowing hard, the grizzled officer said, "Yes, sir, please proceed." "Very well, Seargant. You will take the subject identified as Justin Ackeman. You will not handcuff him, you will let him ride in the passenger side of the vehicle. You will drive him to Luke AFB at the edge of town. At the main gate there will be a military police squad. They will take custody of him from there. During your trip with him, you will not ask him any questions, or make any comments designed to get information from him. You may speak to him only if it is necessary to keep him calm, but nothing else. Upon your return, you shall meet your squad and come see me. I will give all of you further orders at this point. Do you understand your orders, seargant?" Snapping to attention, the veteran officer said, "Sir, yes SIR!" "Very well, carry them out, and remember, break your orders, you will be dead." At first, Justin wasn't sure that he hadn't been having a heat-induced hallucination, but within a few moments, the door to the interrogation room was opening and the seargant stepped in with Justin's shorts in his hands. There was a white t-shirt folded on top of them. With a determined smile, the seargant set them down on the table in front of him. "Hello, Mr. Ackeman. I am sorry for the delay and uncomfortable surroundings. I hope you understand we had to confirm your identity due to the, um, unusual circumstances? Not knowing what else to say, the boy/man said "Of course seargant. I trust you will now be providing a lift back to the Power Department? I don't feel like riding a bicycle all the way back in this heat" "Uh, I would like to sir, but I have orders to take you somewhere else. My guess is it has something to do with your prior military service. They may be wanting to reactivate you. I have orders to escort you to the base. If you would please change back into these clothes, we'll be leaving." Not sure if he liked this turn of events, or the orders he had overheard, Justin slowly changed out of the prison jumper and into his clothes. He was glad the bloody shirt had been replaced with the white t-shirt, but he missed it. It had been the last gift his sister had ever given him. Sniffing back a tear at the thought of her, he finished getting dressed. Still, no thoughts came to mind about how to change his situation. Besides, military discipline lay thick inside him and he was not prone to disobey what was obviously military orders (he had joined the Navy at 17, and it had left it's mark on him deeply). As they rode in near silence to the base, Justin could see the anxiety and worry on the seargant's face. Obviously, the man liked him and was worried for him. Inside the cab of the police cruiser, the air was almost bearable. A low-power cooling system moistened and cooled the air to the low hundreds, maybe even the high 90's. Despite working for the Power Department, he had gotten use to not having pure air conditioning while outside. Leaning back and trying to relax, he marveled at the richness of his feelings. He hadn't felt this, excited, this alive in years! It had seemed, as he grew through his early 30's that life had gotten more and more dull, his emotions less sharp, less powerful. Not even the riots last year, being forced to kill other americans had raised this much feeling in him. Now they seemed to be back with a vengeance. As he looked at the quiet seargant, he felt a stirring in his groin, and realized he was getting a hard on! He hadn't gotten a hard on just looking at someone in years! Moving his hands to cover his crotch, he decided to look outside at the boring landscape. They were moving through an abandoned section of the city. So many people had died or fled in the last year that many parts of the city were now vacant. The officer noticed the reaction of the boy sitting next to him and let a smile show in his face. 'Damn,' he thought. 'Cute kid gets excited and I can't do anything about it.' As they reached the military base, he was surprised at what he saw. There were three amoured personnel carriers there, troops ringed around them. Two more humvees sat at each end of the line of APC's. The solar panels on the vehicles showed they had been modified to electric, or maybe hybrid propulsion. Normally, security here was tight, but now it was like they were expecting an attack by thousands of troops. Machine gun nests, troops with rocket launchers tracked the police car as it pulled up to the gate. "All this for me?" was the nervous statement, little more than a whisper from next to him. "Look, I don't know how to say this, but, um, I was given very, um.." began the seargant before being interrupted. "Don't worry, seargant. I heard what you were ordered, and I don't blame you for anything that's going to happen to me. Relax, I'll be fine. Just take care of yourself and don't let yourself be executed for a stupid reason." with that, the tall young man opened the cruiser's door and got out. As he walked towards the soldiers in front of him, all their weapons tracked him instead of the police car. Not wanting to wait for what was going to happen, the seargant turned the vehicle around and headed back to town to carry out the rest of his orders. To be continued... comments may be sent to kirkjr@hotmail.com