New World Disorder

By ProfessorPedant

8.8K 433 73

Seventy two year old Samuel Pope woke in the body of fifteen year old Oran Bry. Not only was he in a new body... More

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Fourteen

382 20 0
By ProfessorPedant

Thursday, April 29, 2010

"Surely you are not trying to argue that Vietnam was a good thing!" Mr. Daly almost shouted.

"No, I'm not saying that." Pope had to reign in his temper. The rest of the film class was watching the two combatants with almost as much interest as they had watched the combat scene in the clip from Platoon the instructor had just shown. "I'm saying that not every American soldier in the war was inherently evil. Sometimes it was a case of good men mired in a bad situation."

"How can you say that? Haven't you ever heard of the My Lai Massacre?" The teacher was stalking in the front of the room, gesticulating with both hands, his long greying braid whipping as he turned sharply. "Over 200 women and children raped and killed. That is evil!"

"Yes it was. But that was one group of soldiers, not all of whom participated, and some of whom tried to stop the others. More to the point," Pope continued on overriding Mr. Daly's immediate response. "Blaming every American solider for the evil actions of a few is as wrong as blaming all Germans for the Holocaust or all Muslims for 9/11."

"What?"

The confusion on the teacher's face made Pope review his words. Crap, 9/11 never happened here. What did ... "I mean blaming all Muslims for the sinking of the QE II."

"You really don't get it. Vietnam or New Axum, war is inherently evil!" Daley was now leaning over Pope's desk, spittle sprayed from his mouth.

"But ..."

"One more word, Mr. Bry, and you are OUT of here." Noses almost touching, the teacher yelled into the student's face. "Do I make myself clear!"

Grinding his teeth, Pope just nodded. He said nothing else for the remainder of the period. Inside he was stewing. Who does he think he is? What does this guy know about war? I bet he's never served a day in his life. Or read anything that did not already agree with his neo-peacenik dogma. He calls himself a teacher! Teaching is about helping the students think critically, not regurgitating pablum offered by the all-knowing instructor. If I were my real age he wouldn't discount me like that. I hate high-school!

This became the theme for the afternoon. In Design class Ms. Girard informed the students of the start a new design cycle project.

"The challenge will be to design a real product that solves a real world problem. But your product has to be built from 100% recycled materials. To make matters more challenging, this one will be done 'under the gun', so to speak. You will have three weeks to go through the entire design process." Groans filled the air. "I know that's not much time, so to make things easier this will be a group project. You will have four outer students to share the load."

This elicited a second, louder chorus of groans. No one liked working in groups. Pope decided that, in order to be fair to the other students, he was going to make a conscious effort not to fall into leader mode and take over the planning and assigning of tasks. He was eminently qualified for that role and had lead many, many teams. Which meant that he would not learn anything from doing it again. Leave it to one of the kids. They need the practice.

Unfortunately that did not work out very well. Either they were all sitting silent waiting for someone else to do something or they were all trying to take charge and assign tasks to other people, making sure they had nothing to do but supervise. By the end of class, nothing had been agreed upon and Pope had a headache worse than when Amok hit him. I hate high-school!

After class he was at his locker getting ready to go train for the afternoon. I really need to blast something. His frustrated musings were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey Oran," Hester called. "Oran!" she called a second time when he did not reply.

Crap, that's me. Pope stopped grousing and tried to fit back into his teenage persona. "Hey Hester. What's up?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to get together this weekend. There's a lot going on."

Great, more teen drama! Pope thought. "Sorry. I've got a full weekend of super training. Still trying to get my Level 1 cert and my trainer has me booked out of town tomorrow through Sunday. Sorry."

"No that's alright," she said, eyes downcast. "I know how important that is. I just wish ..."

"Yeah. So, I'll see you Monday." Oran smiled and closed his locker. She was still standing there when he walked away, thinking about the upcoming weekend.

Carl had more or less turned over his training to YoungBlood for the last two weeks. It had been interesting working with the team. He was learning new things, or exploring the use of old skills in new contexts. The upcoming weekend was his first "mission" with the team.

The Temple of Life Unchained was having their annual International Convocation over the weekend, part of which included a big Rally for Life Unchained in Battery Park. It was expected that there would be protesters outside their newly opened Battery City Grand Temple for all four days of the convention and a big counter rally in the park on Sunday. YoungBlood had been contracted by the City to help provide security and crowd control, especially at the rally.

At first Oran was curious why they needed supers security for a church gathering. It turns out the Temple of Life Unchained was an international organization of super-supremacists that put itself forward as a church to gain special freedoms in the US and EU. Supers were called the Blessed and were considered the next stage towards the salvation of the race. Not satisfied with having been officially recognized as a religion by most western governments, the Temple were intent of finding or building a homeland for the Blessed. There was some concern among various government and law enforcement groups that the Temple might not be too particular if someone else was currently occupying that homeland. And the Temple had dozens, possibly hundreds, of supers among its international flock. The most combat capable of these supers, called Templars, and acted as strike forces for the organization.

While there was record of the main team, The Knights Templar, fighting the Liberty Legion and the Peacekeepers, and the training team, the Squires, fighting YoungBlood, the Temple had always successfully argued these altercations were simple misunderstandings or that the Templars were defending the religious freedoms of the Temple. So far these arguments had stopped anyone from going to jail.

Upon arrival to the YoungBlood HQ, Dr. Kovacs had them in the briefing room. "Word on the net is that Humanity! is planning a massive counter-demonstration on Sunday. Numbers are expected to be in the thousands, including the Temple adherents, the random tourists and sightseers, and the Humanity! crowd."

"Oh, the Humanity!" Brad quipped.

"Oh, the originality," his sister countered.

"Oh, the interruptions," Malcom 'Titan' Davis growled. At eight feet tall, his voice could not help but come out deep and reverberant. He smirked at Ellen as she blushed in chagrin.

"You are there for two primary purposes," the aged trainer continued. "... crowd control to avoid or curtail disturbances from the mundane protestors; and protection should either group instigate powered or armed conflict. Your primary goal is the protection of the citizens. Stopping the combatants is secondary. Are there any questions on that?"

"Wouldn't stopping the combatants be the best way to protect the people?" asked Emilio 'Black Dragon' Delgado. Oran was a little surprised as he had not come across as the aggressive one. He was more the shaved headed, meditative, fire-breathing type.

"Combat leads to collateral damage," Kovacs quoted. "In a crowd of thousands that usually means lost lives. We want to avoid that. If there is a fight you'll need to contain it as much as possible while getting the crowd away to safety."

"And that takes proper preparation," added Rin "N-Forcer" Tanaka. "I have a few ideas for crowd control."

"Good!" Dr. Kovacs said. "Each of you needs to consider how you can best coordinate, motivate, redirect, or restrain large groups of people without damaging them. Note I said not damage, rather than not hurting. Don't be cruel, but pain can be a great motivator."

The teens split into smaller groups to start brainstorming. Each hero talked about movement capability, useful skills, and non-lethal area effect powers. Hecate, who had underwhelmed Oran in the two combat simulations they had shared, managed to come up with the most ways in which she could work the crowds. She was extremely versatile, able to speak multiple languages, teleport and fly to move around the crowd, create force barriers and magical illusions, even read minds to discover plots. N-Forcer also had several useful capabilities including flight, sensors for detecting trouble, and a variety of non-damaging attacks. Titan, Bombshell, and Black Dragon realized they would need to rely on their sterling personalities to influence the crowd as their powers were mostly hitting things, burning them, or blowing them up. While impressive they were thought to be a bit much for the task at hand. Oddball was convinced his musk attack would be the most effective crowd control tool. Everyone else just thought him weird.

"What about Pulsar?" Rin asked, looking at the blue skinned boy. Oran was never quite sure what to think of the Japanese teen. Pope was never comfortable with non-normative gender identities, something he had seldom come across in the Army. Oran's memories found the newest generation was more accepting of sexual diversity.

"I've a few tricks I've been working on – gravity barriers, large area high intensity light pulses, and a contagious bioelectric system lockdown. I can even set up a wide area electro-stun field, though it's not immediately incapacitating."

Oran continued. "If we have an attack or conflict break out, it seems like it might be best if we split into two teams. Bombshell, Black Dragon, Oddball, and Titan work on containing or ending the conflict while the rest of us protect and remove the non-combatants."

"Thoughts?" Dr. Kovacs prompted of the other.

"Titan, at full height, is an area effect on his own," Emilio pointed out. "I would suggest keeping him as a reserve for either the fight team or the crowd team."

Dr. Kovacs looked around to see if anyone else had anything to add. After a moment he nodded. "OK. That's what we'll do. Rin, you coordinate the crowd team. Ellen, you have the fight team. Just keep your temper. Emilio, there are going to be Templars all over the place. I know how you feel about them. But you need to remember, they're not the mission."

They spent the rest of the evening practicing crowd control maneuvers and looking for the best ways to coordinate their actions. By the time he was ready to go home, Oran was finally enjoying himself.

The next morning Oran reminded his mother that he would be working with Carl all weekend, including Monday. "I've already got my assignments for school. I should be back Monday for dinner."

"Be careful. Don't let him draw you into anything dangerous. I love my dad, but he has no regard for his or anyone else's safety." Mariela laid her hand gently on his shoulder and pressed. "Do what you need but come back safe."

"Thanks, Mom. I will."

Oran noticed the louder than normal clink as Jock heavily set his cup back into its saucer. He stood and headed from the room, only pausing to deposit a lengthy kiss on his wife. His eyes were on Oran until he pulled away and left the room. Wow, Oran thought. Is he insecure or just an asshole?

Once back at the YoungBlood HQ, Oran was surprised to see Cobalt present. "What are you doing here, boss?"

"Go away, kid. You bother me." Cobalt replied. Both men smiled at each other. "I figure if a certain lady thinks we're training together all weekend, I probably shouldn't be hanging around my house alone."

"That makes sense," Oran agreed. "Will you be joining us at the rally or protests?"

"Retired remember, since before you were born, kid. I'm just here for the bagels. Kit gets those thin Canadian ones from Toronto. They ain't real bagels, but they're a nice change."

"Ok people," Dr. Kovacs addressed the assembled team and the two guests. "Today's agenda includes the opening ceremonies for both the convocation and for the Grand Temple complex. There will be a gathering where they showcase all their various superpowered adherents. Both events are open to the public. In the evening there is a formal induction ceremony for new Knights Templar. It will be both open to the public and televised on the Temple's cable and net channels. It is likely that these will draw sizable protests from various anti-super fringe groups alike Humanity!, traditional religious groups who disagree with the Temple's claim to religion, and people protesting the Temples aggressive supremacist preaching's."

"Wow! That's a lot of enemies." Brad exclaimed.

"And a potentially volatile mix," Dr. Kovacs agreed. "They don't necessarily like each other any better than they like the Templars. A lot of opportunity for problems. But the NYPD has asked the contracted super teams – that's us, the Justice Squad, and the Midtown Patrol – to avoid the area while in costume, but to stand by in shifts in case something goes wrong. Our shift is 1-6pm this afternoon. You all need to be here at 12:30 so we can make out way to the NYPD control center in the DEMA headquarters."

"Ahhh..." Oran started.

"Yes, I realize that poses an issue for you," Dr. Kovacs said. "We'll make sure you have a comm unit and you can hang out here or somewhere else nearby. I know you can get to where we need you quickly enough, even if you are more than a block away."

"That sounds good." Oran was finding the DEMA issue becoming bothersome. Too many secrets ...

"I would also recommend that each of you take some time this morning to wander the Temple grounds, both inside and out, in mufti to familiarize yourself with the layout and the feeling of the crowds. For those of you that is not possible, I suggest you spend some time watching the event on the news or explore via drone." Dr. Kovacs finished his briefing and released the team.

"What are you going to do Pulse?" Fusun 'Hecate' Onal inquired. She was a short, curvy girl of Turkish origin with auburn hair and olive skin. Pope was somewhat uncomfortable with the idea her powers were actually magical. Somehow it was harder for him to accept than powers that seemed to be more scientific in origin and effect.

"I'll probably take a high watch position somewhere and scan the complex. I can see pretty well from pretty far."

"Sort of like scrying. That's something I'm still working on."

"Um ... I guess. More like a spy satellite, but whatever works for you."

"You're not comfortable with magic? Are you?" Her eyes bore into his.

He wondered if she were trying to read his mind. He knew that was one of her power. In order to protect his identity Oran had a tendency to wear his complete costume around the HQ. This included his helmet. He wondered if he could get any sort of telepathic shield installed into it to protect his thoughts.

"I'm not very familiar with it. I've always considered myself more of a science and engineering kind of guy."

"I'm sure I could teach you if you'd like. That could be so cool." Fusun's excitement started to rise.

"While that is an intriguing idea," Oran said, thinking the opposite, "I think I should concentrate on learning to control my current powers, before adding an entirely new set of abilities."

"Alright," she sounded disappointed. "Maybe I can interest one of the others. Maybe give Titan some variety or ..."

"Sounds like something to talk about with them. I think I'm going to go find a vantage point for observing the opening ceremony." Oran nodded and headed out to the courtyard. Once outside he took off towards Highspire, the towers floating above Governors Island.

As he flew he examined the floating base. There were a few areas his vision would not penetrate. Based on what he could see outside the areas, they seemed to be specialized electronics labs and a few holding cells. When he realized there were a number of private apartments in the towers belonging to some of the super groups and their staff, we stopped looking. No reason to invade their privacy.

From a perch on the top of the highest tower Oran could see most of the metropolitan area laid out below him. The Grand Temple was close enough that he could observe individuals thought the complex, both inside and out. He was surprised to find there were a few areas he could not see in the interior of the Temple. One was labeled on the outside as the secure server room. He could detect the flow of electricity and data in fiber optic cables, but the room itself was shielded in some fashion that contained the EM spectra. There were also a few vaults and two special interview rooms that were similarly shielded. He was most curious about the "interview" rooms as they seemed to be in an area that looked uncomfortably like a small jail. Why does a church need a jail? Brings to mind the Spanish Inquisition.

As far as he could tell there was no one in the suspect cells, but he could not be certain. Setting that aside Oran continued to observe through the pomp and circumstance of the Dedication of the Temple and the opening of the Convocation.

His perch was too far from the actual events for Oran to hear what was being said by the majority of the attendees. He could make out most of the radio signals from those using the wireless mics for the speeches. While the specifics of the speeches were unfamiliar, it was all similar enough to various military ceremonials he'd attended or taken part in that he quickly found the rhythm of the event.

As anticipated there was a sizable pro-Temple crowd and a growing number of protestors. Wishing he could hear more of what they were saying, Oran spent the majority of his morning examining the anti-Temple groups.

Is that Eric! Oran saw his step-brother carrying a sign proclaiming the Humans First! Humans Only!, one of the tamer slogans of bandied about by the followers of Humanity!, a group that lumped anything not baseline human as evil. It was actually a loose coalition of various fringe groups that together made up the largest anti-super organization in the western world. I had no idea he was into anything political. I wonder if his dislike of supers is more than a couple of weeks old.

Almost an hour later he spotted another familiar face. Is that Dr. Jolliet? The Westminster Academy school psychologist was carrying a placard proclaiming I believe Human children are our Future! The expression on his face as a group of teens in the red and gold uniforms of the Squires marched past as part of the ceremony was as hate-filled as anything Pope had seen from protesters spitting on returning soldiers in the Seventies. Well that explains his behavior since I 'came out' as Fenrir. I guess she doesn't know about the twins. I'll have to watch how he treats Antje. I don't know of any other supers in school.

Later in the morning there was a meeting between the leaders of the two opposing groups. The Hierophant, Manfred Mannerheim, who was one of two supreme leaders of the Temple, was blessing the crowd when Guy LeFever, the official head of the Humanity! movement, stepped out of the crowd. Oran recognized both men as he had researched the potential opposition when Dr. Kovacs informed them of the weekend's mission.

I wish I could hear them, but getting closer seems like a really bad idea. Oran thought. Mannerheim was decked out in full ecclesiastical regalia. It looked like a cross between the Pope and Grand Moff Tarkin, but all in scarlet and gold. He glowed with a visible force field and floated a few inches above the ground. LeFever was a forty something year old Caucasian with short brown hair, almost no chin, and a strikingly wide mouth. He was dressed in a well-tailored suit and carried no placard. They spoke for barely two minutes before they were overwhelmed by a roar that Oran could actually hear from almost a mile away. The protesters started pressing against the barricades that separated them from the Templars. NYPD braced themselves and in two locations mounted officers used their horses to break the surge. Three minutes later the press ended and the protestors were content to rain verbal and visual abuse on their targets.

Oran had noticed the Temple security forces, the Unchained, made up of well-armed and trained humans and low powered supers, had prepared for action as the protesters surged. But in the end, they had done nothing, allowing the police to avert the disaster rather than exacerbating the situation by directly confronting their detractors. A handful of Knights and Squires, easily discernable by their uniforms, were available to support the Unchained.

As might be expected he found no evidence of supers among the Humanity! crowd, though in a separate protest area, more than a hundred yards removed, there were a few supers and their friends with posters decrying the separatist views of the Temple Can't we all just get along! seemed to be the common cry. Oran found himself in greater agreement with those sentiments. And there's Antje, he mused. I wondered if I would see her here. I half expected to see Hester. She's such a fan of supers, I'm surprised she missed out on this.

Oran spent the rest of the day, and part of the evening perched alone on the Highspire, watching the events around the Temple and wondering if resisting registration was worth this sort of separation from the others. Am I stuck on the idea of a secret identity from reading too many comics as a kid? Or am I just being stubborn? Who am I actually protecting at this point?

In the end, YoungBlood was not called into action on either Friday or Saturday. Sunday was another matter. 

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