Apocalypse Before Finals, Julie Steimle [black authors fiction txt] 📗

and I feel that it is best to resume our positions in the room and place our weapons under coats and papers - oh, and to gag those two PMs before they blow everything for all of us."

Instantly and willingly, his group of allies moved to secure the two People's Military officers. They stuffed both men's mouths with socks taken off of keen feet. Then both PMs were hauled to the back of the room and shoved to the floor where they were promptly sat upon to keep them still. As they did this, Jeff bowed to the venerated men in the jury box who were just as quickly released by his own men who backed off to their former places within the room.

He said, "I realize that you do not trust us, but you are in the same pickle as we are now. We would advise you not to make any sudden movements which would undoubtedly result in your death, as the People's Military would not give two seconds consideration to your rank and position." He barely let that sink in when he turned to Agent Sicamore. "I'd advise you to order your agents to take their guns back from my men and hide them under their suit coats - since the PMs will take away any and all weaponry, and possibly kill your armed agents. And they will search everyone."

Sicamore opened his mouth in protest. "How can I - ?"

"Look," Jeff shot back in sharp desperation. "We don't have time. I've seen these people kill men, women, and children indiscriminately. To be honest, I really don't want to see you die, so please..." He waved to the crowd of agents who had been watching him and Zormna for months on end. "...hide your weapons."

The FBI agent blinked. He watched as Jeff's people handed back the formerly confiscated weapons as if they trusted the guns would not be used against them. Agents Keane, Hayworth, both Browns, Simms, Palmer, and Powell and several others whom Jeff did not know personally expectantly watched their head of operations, waiting for his order. It seemed impossible that they were expected to believe the insane tale coming out of the mouths of these two teenagers. However Agent Sicamore blinked as he envisioned what would happen if he didn't listen to Jeff, and then nodded. "Hide your guns. This is for real."

The agents side-glanced at him, but obeyed, taking off their gun holsters and stashing them with their weapons while removing their suit coats. Pretending the room was too hot, they draped their coats over their weapons on their seats.

"Make sure your guns are loaded," Jeff said, looking over his shoulder to those agents.

Agents Keane through Powell shared looks, having never expected to hear that come from Jeff.

Zormna walked up to Jeff, checking to see if he had a weapon for her. He didn't, but then he didn't have one for himself either.

"Don't worry," he assured. "We can take their guns."

Hearing that, she nodded with a smirk - as that was what she had said to him in the forest. She resumed her position behind the barrier, watching Jeff take his place. He glanced back only once to the men near the window, "Are those PMs secure and gagged?"

The two bailiffs nodded. "Well and gagged, Big Z."

Jeff nodded then looked at Agent Sicamore who was standing dumbly in front of the judge's bar at the time. "Go ahead then." The Boy rolled his hand, taking another step back. "Make something up and talk. They'll need to be convinced that we have been taken off guard."

The head of the Mars Project felt his body shake, wondering why he was going along with this sham. He looked up at the petrified faces on the generals in the jury box, closed his eyes, and started to speak.  

"So...uh...as I was saying, the threat of invasion is something we should prepare for. However, at our present moment we are not quite ready to..." Agent Sicamore found his heart pounding in his chest and reverberating in his ears. It just wasn't possible. He never really believed an invasion would take place. It had sounded so ridiculous before, but now it was happening. 

 

[1] "...We could check house to house. It doesn't matter if we find him right away, you know," one muttered. "If he's still around, we'll get him eventually. Soon there will be nowhere for him to hide."

[2] "Quiet!" Zormna suddenly barked. "You are not allowed here. You are breaking the law by being here."[2]

 

[3] "What did you expect? Those rats would not respect you any more than us."

[4] "Take that, Alea Zormna! Ha! High and mighty Zeta leader!"

Chapter Eight: Invasion

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Self-pity is a waste of time. - anon -

 

When the invading People's Military stormed into the room, they witnessed with satisfaction at how the people inside jumped at the sound of their pounding entrance. From the dignified and aged persons in the jury box, to the courtroom full of stern looking people, all were trembling as their proud army marched in. Such a gasp of horror, cries of indignation, and all that except for any actual force of violence to stop them ensued. Everyone pulled back from the eight fully armed soldiers in bold blue - too terrified, apparently to do anything. And as their squad leader in crisp clean green boldly strode in through the center of them, he knew his army's arrival had such a powerful impression upon the occupants of the room as to indelibly engrave itself on their minds forever.

Or so he believed.

The soldier had swagger. He walked in without his helmet, weapon stowed, surveying the courtroom like a king, head high, wearing overconfidence like a crown. A fancy gold stripe went down each arm of his uniform while pinned on his chest were several marks to show what an important man he was. Nine against a crowd of trained FBI agents and a number of rebels working with Jeff and Zormna, it took an enormous amount of self-restraint not to burst his delusions and blow their plan.

As the People's Military leader gazed over the room with a satisfied air, watching his men order every one of the occupants to stand with their arms lifted so they could force a search among the people, he grinned to himself. They 'retrieved' one gun from the bailiff next to the judge. The green clad man received it, patting it in his palm like a cute toy he had found, while smirking to himself. With a satisfied air, his voice resonating like an Irish militant (but without the anger), he said, "You are the prisoners of the People's Military of Arras."

It was such an easy conquest. Most of the building had been empty. With so much satisfaction, he took in the faces of the distinguished generals and their own impressive decorations - his new captives. His voice spoke magnanimously to them, "From now on you are under the jurisdiction of the government of Arras. If you wish to live, you will submit without fighting."

A tense air over the jury box swelled, as no self-respecting American general gave up without a fight. But they did not move from their seats. Eyes twitched toward the crowd behind the defendant's table.

He didn't notice.

"Further, you will be moved to camps to be reeducated in your status as citizens of the new Arrassian protectorate." The People's Military officer in green let his eyes pass from the judges, going to the crowd next, orating on the importance of compliance, as their lives depended on it...according to him. His eyes took in each face like they were his new pets, almost fondly. And as he explained their position, he grinned at each one - that is, until his gaze rested Zormna who stood there like someone irritably bored with the circumstances.  

He stopped his speech at once.

"Why Alea Zormna Clendar!" He practically hopped to her. "Fancy finding you here! I heard you were sent away by the Kevin on special projects. So this is where you have been!" He then glanced back at the judge and the generals with complete bafflement. "Don't tell me you have been working with this riffraff. It would lower my opinion of you - and I don't want that to happen." The man grinned wider, glancing about the room, not quite seeing everything in his stupid merriment. He even started to flirt with her.

But Zormna stared at him with a pained air of someone who was enduring an unwelcome fan. And he reacted as if this was a normal response.

"Well, I'm glad to know you aren't dead." The soldier laughed. "I heard scurrilous rumors that you might be a Tarrn and that the Clendar medallion they found was yours. But I see that isn't the case."

Zormna's glare deepened, but she still said nothing.

A little put off by her unresponsiveness now, his eyes wandered, soon resting on Jeff. The boy had been watching this People's Military officer with a plain expression, a little impatient to be noticed actually. And what an effect it had when the soldier did recognize Jeff. The PM turned and looked back at Zormna with scandal.

"Don't tell me you're here with him?" His voice dropped into anger and, surprisingly, jealousy. He walked over to where Jeff was standing, his eyes raking over the boy, up and down. "Don't you know he is a criminal?"

This time Zormna ironically laughed and glanced at the floor. Looking up with a wicked glitter in her eyes, she smiled. "I am fully aware, Dural Hendron." Then she took a step toward him and added, "But I wonder if you are aware that your presence here is breaking the first emigration law of Arras?"

The People's Military officer chuckled, such conceit and confidence in the tenor of it. He glanced about the room. "And you are not?"

Zormna's expression grew stern. "Partha is my jurisdiction."

A rumble from the jury box made the PM leader turn his head to look. He turned back toward her and raised his chest importantly, squaring his shoulders. "Not anymore, Alea. The Surface Patrol is presently out of commission. There has been a change in the order of things - "

"Dural Hendron! Em'es azhee'narr re'noolakee! Serr'kai!"[1] One of the blue soldiers called out from the midst of the crowd where he was still in the middle of searching the people for weapons.

All the soldiers' whipped from Jeff and Zormna and turned to the two bound and gagged PMs on the floor. Jeff took that one time to nod to Marc. Marc and another man used that second to close the jury room doors. They then nodded to others who slowly reached for their weapons. The FBI agents noticed and followed suit, carefully.

Three of the blue soldiers left the main group and joined the one conducting the body pat-downs. They removed the gags from the two PMs they had tied up.

Jeff nodded again. Word passed among their group to wait for the signal to duck. Once the sock was pulled out of the PM's mouth, the