The Misbegotten

Estefan sat there. He stared at nothing, masochistically reliving the agony and sorrow he had felt that night, so many years ago.

Though the years seemed countless, he still remembered Lucia’s cherubic face, her elven giggle. The way her whole face lit up at the sight of him, she always had a huge smile and dazzling eyes for him. Without fail her reaction was the same. Whether it was a while or a short couple of hours since he’d last seen her, it did not matter. She made him happy regardless of his day.

Martín’s was there too, crystalline, in his memory. The Keeper could see his big brown eyes, his broad face and his course, straight hair that couldn’t keep a style. His baby brother, with his inability to be anything other than ornery, had loved practical jokes and playing tricks. Though he would sometimes forget to think about him for years on end, his recollections of him never faded. They were as vivid as they day he’d seen them.

His mother and his step-father were different in his mind’s eye. Rather than preserved in time, frozen notions of the past, they were a conglomeration of thought, feelings and actions. He had amalgamated their existence into a series of musings. He played them in his head like a movie, like snippets in time all spliced together.

He could see himself at the beach when his family consisted of only him and Johan, and their mother. They were running on small feet, through the sand as little boys. This was clear, but his mother’s age kept changing. Her face was young, then older, like when she’d already given birth to Martín and Lucia. Nest. She’d seem even younger when she seemed so big, so warm. He remembered thinking she was the most beautiful creature on the planet.

He could see his step-father in the front seat of the family car, calling for his mother to get back inside. She had screamed at the man to stop the vehicle a minute before. He had slowed. She had jumped out, angry, bristling with frustration. She was walking fast, ignoring his step-father’s pleas. He, Johan and Flavia sat in the backseat, unaware they were holding hands, not knowing why they were scared. He recalled he had prayed, hoping at the time his mother and his step-father weren’t going to break-up. They hadn’t.

He had never seen what they had done to any of their bodies after he and the founding members of the Aegis Synod had fled into the night. All four of them the NIA had shot to death in cold blood, murdered. His baby brother and sister slaughtered like animals.

All he could recall was the rage - his rage, Katie’s rage and the all-consuming need for revenge.

Katie had brought the light of the stars down on their enemies and had set his house ablaze.

He had killed for the first time.

Leda had killed.

They had destroyed his entire neighborhood in the process.

It was years before they dared set foot on the familiar ground where he’d lived as a child. He had lost his virginity in that house.

When he’d seen what they’d done to it, he had wept bitter tears. His family, his friends – they weren’t terrorists. There was no need to make it a monument to justice, a warning to other Mutos. It was an unforgiveable act.

Later, when Angel Free Town was his, he had the placards and gaudy “remembrance-stones” removed. He had made all Highland Park a recreational park that families could enjoy. He had even named it after his step-father, the man who’d brought so much happiness to his mother. The man he hadn’t the time to tell he loved. Everything had gone so fast.

The park was only land on the first level of the megalith that wasn’t devoted to feeding the masses. It was set aside, forever sacred, because the blood of the Keeper of the Peace had flowed there. Many might not remember why Enrique Ernando Regional Park was there and, later, preserved for all time.

It didn’t matter. He knew. Johan knew. Flavia knew. That’s what was important.

I miss you mama. And, you too, Pop.

Before his writing consul, his Neuro-Nanoswarm was chiming every odd second for instruction. He bent his head to the surface and wept again.

It had been a long time since he had mourned the loss of his family. It had been centuries since he had dared to dredge up those terrible memories. He had forgotten what it had felt like to lose something he’d loved so much, something so fundamental to the foundation that made him. He ached to hold them, one last time, on his terms. He wished he could hold his mother’s delicate hand and see the paper-thin skin on the back of it. He longed to crush his step-father in an embrace, hold him as tight as he could. Of all things, it was their idiotic half-hug, half-wrestling squeeze he wanted the most.

The tears came hard and his sobs strong, from the middle of himself.

Lucia. Martín.

He would give his entire fortune to bring them back. If it were possible, he’d give it all away to smell the baby scent on the top of her head, to see his beautiful smile.

He would pay trillions to not see their heads explode.

Now, it was happening again. Once more, someone – or something - had taken a member of his family. Once more, an outsider thought it fine to hurt what he loved, what he cherished. What the fuck was wrong with things? Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? It was all he had ever wanted.

He stood, enraged, the marble at his feet creaking with the sudden shift of his considerable weight.

Three weeks ago, the commanding officer of what remained of Jacob’s fleet had told them of the ambush they’d flown into. He spoke of the thousands of drones that had attacked them from every quarter. He told them of the brutal, relentless assault that followed. His eyes brimmed with tears, his shoulders hunched with shame. He had gaze up at the Keeper of the Peace and begged for forgiveness.

Estefan had reached for him, laid a comforting hand upon one of those drooping shoulders. He told him, it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t the one to blame.

The officer had shuddered under his touch. He let the Keeper finished reassuring him before he said: “That is not the whole of it, m’Lord. There was something more, something terrifying.”

When Estefan had asked, the man replied, “Something came aboard the Command Ship. It was horribly misshapen and rank. It was over nine feet tall and wielded a Mutation unlike any I have ever seen.” He had whimpered, like a child. A grown man with decade’s worth of military and paramilitary training cowered like a babe.

The shock made Estefan wary in an instant.

“He tore people apart without even touching them. He just looked at them and they ripped to shreds. And… and... and they kept tearing even after he had walked passed them. There was nothing left but thin strips of flesh and bone, and so much blood, everywhere.

“He would’ve slain us all if it hadn’t been for Lord Jacob. He stood before the creature and shouted for it to stop. The creature gazed hard at him. I thought Lord Jacob was going to tear apart like the others, but he wasn’t. He became indistinct, almost like he wasn’t there – like… like some scary apparition. He was sweating profusely, trembling too, as if he were under incredible strain.

“The beast roared at him. It seemed frustrated, but I couldn’t tell you for sure. But that’s beside the point, because Lord Jacob began to speak. His voice wasn’t his own. It was resonant -. No, that’s wrong. It was rich like the loam of good earth, like the fresh smell of the air after a solid rain. He was so compelling even the creature held fast, considering him. The strain on my lord appeared to ease.

“The creature’s eyes became slits, its’ mouth drawn in a straight line. It half-turned from us. It was obvious to me; it didn’t want to look at Lord Jacob any longer. It was trying to break free of his gaze.

“My Lord took a step forward, his foot sinking into the deck of the ship a few inches before he found purchase and stepped again. The beast retreated, its’ eyes widening, barking commands in its’ strange ghastly tongue. It sounded more like a bear growling than an actual language.

“From all parts of the ship, the drones came for Lord Jacob. They were not affected by his speech, his Mutation worthless. They pummeled him to the ground, smashing into him with their insect-like bodies. At last, he faltered, his ghost-like characteristic failing him. As he became more substantial, their blows did more damage until they bludgeoned him to the floor. He moved to no more.

“The beast came forth then barking and snarling, and the drones took my lord away. I did not see him again.

“How the creature left the ship, I cannot say. We didn’t have the time to ponder the question. The larger drones attacked once more, en masse, and they forced us to abandon the Command Ship. We saw it explode as we jettisoned away. We watched as the tremendous weapons of this newfound enemy ripped through the Diatainium alloy hull like it was paper.

“We saw what remained of the fleet Grav-jump to safety. For some reason, the enemy drones didn’t follow. They zipped away toward the inner Solar System instead, so fast we could not understand what we were watching. We floated in space, in our lifeboats, for two days before the remnants of the fleet came back and began to round us up.” He continued to cry when he had finished.

Estefan ordered him taken to sick bay for monitoring. He was so distraught; the Keeper feared he might do something to himself.

When medical officers carted him off, Estefan's wives had surrounded him. Before they asked a single question, he spoke: “We go to Luna Prime.”

That had been three weeks ago.

He gazed out the observation window at the vast expanse of lunar fortress. He wiped his face and ran a hand over his smooth scalp, carrying away the perspiration coating it.

Why can’t they just leave us alone? It was a miserable thought. It should’ve never entered his mind. He should’ve never expressed it. He was the Keeper after all. He was the Overlord of the Aegis Synod, god dammit!

The override alarm sounded at the entrance to his private chambers.

Flavia strode in through a throng of Aegis Marines she had left sprawling in her wake. “Estefan, what’s wrong!?” she demanded, her chest heaving as if she’d run the entire way.

He peered over at her weary, eyelids shot-through with lead.

She realized he’d been crying and froze in her tracks so quick; she stood on her toes. The pads of her feet skidded a few inches across the marble flooring. She wore the same black colored, bio-spandex jumpsuit, covering her lithe form from neck to ankle to wrist. All his wives were wearing the same outfit now, anticipating his next announcement.

If he said what they were anticipating he’s say, then they’d be ready.

“I finished,” he said rank with misery.

Flavia recovered and came to him as agile as a cat.

The marines at the portal of his bed chamber, seeing all was well, left, closing the stout doors behind them.

She hugged him, then broke free to read the last pages of what he’d written. She stood motionless. Her eyes tracked each line. The Neuro-Nanoswarm’s followed the movement of her pupils and scrolled the pages for her. She didn’t have to move.

Ramona and Mena came into the room, dressed like Flavia.

Leda was quick upon their heels.

Flavia continued to read, tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes.

Tirza strode in next.

Her first tear fell to the floor. Flavia’s eyes flew across the pages of Estefan’s diary.

Katie walked in, then Ruby.

Flavia’s hand came to her mouth. She gasped with shock. “Oh god, I had forgotten,” she murmured to herself.

Sandy was the last, her ‘Swarm active, a cloud of intelligent processing units floating about her head. “The Fleet waits -,” she began. She stopped when she realized the whole of the Synod was present. Like they were gnats, she waved away her Nano-comp.

Flavia turned from Estefan’s autobiography, her face streaming with tears. “It still hurts,” she muttered through a mouth overflowing with saliva. Her words seemed distorted, slurred like a drunkard’s.

He walked into her arms and together they wept for the murdered.

A short while later, Katie nodded to herself, she walked toward them, embracing the two. She rested her head on Estefan’s shoulder.

Tirza came forth and did the same. Her actions were like a spark that awoke the rest of them. Soon, they were one great huddle of hugging bodies. They swayed to the right, and then left, right, and then left - again and again.

From somewhere in the outer ring of the human mass, Sandy asked, “The Fleet has assembled, Effy. They are awaiting your orders. What are we going to do?”

Three hundred sixty-four years prior, Katie had asked him something quite similar. It had been three years after they had fled from Estefan’s childhood home, his neighborhood in flames, his parents and young siblings slain before his eyes. They had been deep underground at the time, all their plans and schemes had worked. They’d become wealthy beyond imagination. So rich, in fact, they had procured enough firepower to finally take on the multi-national military forces of the NIA.

His cousin had asked, “What were they going to do?”

He replied with the same words as he would many years later on the surface of the Moon.

“We will go to war.”

Back then, it had signaled the beginning of the Mutant War for Los Angeles.

Now, it was something entirely different. They were going to make war upon the Destro-Mancer. Whoever, or whatever, he was, they were coming for him. Estefan had gathered a force capable of destroying planets. He was not playing games anymore. He was no longer afraid of his past. He could no longer abide anyone fucking with his family. If they died, they would do so fighting.

After all, he had never shied away from enforcing the peace. Thanks to a murderous few, it was in his blood.

THE END