The Wounded World, a story of Mantra, Chapter 12

By Aladdin

Edited by Christopher Leeson

The Wounded World

Originally written 2006

Posted August 21, 2019
Revised September 21, 2019

CHAPTER TWELVE

Conspiracies in Chaos

"A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees."

William Blake

"By the way,” said Wrath, “I was supposed to tell you that you're next up for Colonel Smekes' debriefing.”

I wasn't looking forward to that. "Have you_ been put through the mill yet?"

The big man nodded. "I was. He's hammering on Coburn right now."

I nodded and offered him a nearby chair. "Is there anything fresh coming in from New York?"

Tunney shrugged. "Smekes says that Strike may have been be one of the perpetrators. He was identified along with some other ultras on the south edge of Central Park. Or, what's ~left~ of Central Park."

"Is the source reliable, Greg?"

He shrugged again.

So, that shoe has finally dropped. Poor Brandon.

"It's hard to believe that Strike could be involved," I said slowly. "He's always been wild, but never a criminal or terrorist. Come to think of it, the man's been pretty quiet since before last Christmas."

"He got active last June for a little while, but I don't have any details. Whatever he was up to, the management didn't seem to want to talk about it, not even with senior agents. By the way, Mantra – the original one – was part of that action. Didn't you hear about it over in data analysis?"

“Just rumors. I wasn't asked to analyze what happened. The files were classified beyond my grade.”

And that came as no surprise. It was so secret that no warrants were put out publicly for the arrest of either Warstrike or myself. What Brandon Tark and I had done was to mess up a treason plot. People high in Aladdin were well along in a scheme to use special forces backed up by new ultras that they had created to set up a dictatorial regime. Hundreds of thousands of Americans might have been dead if there had been any resistance and millions more could be occupying prison camps. 

 The operation may have actually have come down from a place much higher than Aladdin, since whatever the federal government had known about it, nothing had been released to the public, and no plotters had been arrested or, as far as I knew, fired. There was a new president now, but who knew how much or how little he had been told? That was the Deep State serving America.

“Mantra, huh?” I said. “I know she's being held for robbery and infiltration, but the rest of her record hasn't shown her to be a threat.”

"I don't know much about Mantra, but maybe Strike's been laying low only because he's been making plans with mass murderers."

"We need more information before we say what really happened,” I told him. “From what you're saying, Strike was seen in New York. But people are coming and going around that city all the time. Maybe he wasn't a perp; maybe he was just checking out the damage."

Tunney shook his head. "I tell you, lady, the more I get to know these ultras, the less I understand them."

I thought it wise to drop the subject, but my erstwhile partner still felt like talking.

"I used to believe that anyone with too much power has to be dangerous, but now I'll have to include myself in that."

"How do you mean?"

"The enhancement I got is still experimental. I was warned that there could be side effects. And it turned out that there were! I can work myself up into a berserk mode that multiplies my strength and endurance; the more I bear down, the stronger I get. But getting too stirred up makes it hard for me to control myself. All too often, demolishing things starts feeling better than having sex." He paused and looked at me. “Sorry I said that.”

I guessed that he had been brought up in an old-fashioned household, when growing boys men were careful about what they said to a woman. But it was just the way that men talked to each other, and I was comfortable with it. "'Wrath' is the perfect code-name for you, then," I jested lamely.

Tunney's smile seemed forced. "That may be. But you know, Eden, the guys in the offices are always telling us about some ultra master plan, but they're damned sketchy about the details. They want us to think of an ultra as some kind of neo-Nazi ready for a new blitzkrieg. The trouble is, I haven't run into any Nazi-types out on the street. Mostly, the ultras I find are youngsters.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, too,” I said.

"How can grade-schoolers be recruits into some 'vast ultra conspiracy,' like that first lady from way back is always talking about? What in hell am I supposed to do with these teens when I find them? Use lethal force, or take them in for lock-up just because some kind of crazy accident gave them weird abilities?"

I grimaced. "My son was certainly no conspirator. He was a little boy who liked action figures, anything with peanut butter, and Star Wars movies – up until The Last Jedi, I mean. Then a terrible thing happened to him. It got him thinking that he was too ugly to be loved. As soon as he acquired powers, he started taking all that hurt out on everyone around him."

Wrath was looking even more troubled than he sounded. I touched his arm.

“Are you thinking about that girl who got killed?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“I am, too.”

He gave a shudder. "Why couldn't she just have gone home when trouble started? Why did she want to play hero? When I talked to her last Friday night, she didn't seem like a bad kid, just a teenybopper cosplaying as a bargain-basement Mantra. A girl her age should have been grounded for pulling bone-headed, dangerous stunts, not --"

"I can't argue with that!" I put in abruptly. I absolutely didn't want to talk about Lauren's sudden death. It had been a mistake to bring up the subject. It hurt too much.

"I won't be sleeping a lot for the next few nights, I'm afraid," he said.

"Ditto. I should have stayed chained to a desk, not going into field work. I don't like doing things that make me feel dirty."

Tunney nodded. "At least you've got some technical skills to fall back on. I'm just a fighter. That's all I've been trained for, that's all I'm good at."

I understood what he was saying, but I didn't dare tell too much of the truth. We had something in common, nonetheless. Both of us had hooked up with outfits that had turned us into pawns by messing with our heads, that did their level best to bring out what was worst in us. I'm trying to climb out of the darkness, but it's hard going.

At that moment, a female staffer poked her head into the lounge and called my name. "Mrs. Blake, Colonel Smekes is ready for you now."

I gritted my teeth. This was clench. I had a lot to cover up, and wasn't sure what all Smeke was going to be throwing at me. I muttered a goodbye to Wrath and followed the young aide out.

#

While facing a string of hard questions from the steely-eyed military man, I tried to sound like I was holding nothing back. In fact, I was dodging bullets like a circus tumbler.

"There's something you're not saying," Smekes suddenly remarked.

Oops. Maybe the guy wasn't as dumb as I'd hoped.

"It's that girl's death," I said. "I've got children of my own. I can't help but think about the shock in store for her parents. Kids grow up assuming that they'll going to have to bury their mom and dad someday. But when it's a parent that has to bury a child...." I shook my head. "Well, that's...that's something else."

"Yes, of course it is, Mrs. Blake," Colonel Smekes agreed without straying into the realm of sincerity.

I only nodded, not wanting to say more than I absolutely had to.

"By the way, you had an interesting connection to this short-lived new Mantra, I've discovered."

It had been a wonder that he hadn't sprung that bit of information on me the second that I'd stepped in the door. Fortunately I had expected it and was ready to dissemble. “I don't understand why you should say that.”

"We've identified her body as belonging to one Lauren Sherwood.”

Act like you've never acted before, Lukasz!

"Lauren? Are you m--? Are you serious?"

"I'm quite serious.” He was looking at me hard. “And I don't think it's a coincidence that she's been your babysitter for about a year."

You don't, huh? I wish to hell that you did.

"What do you mean, sir? How could an ordinary babysitter be an ultra that I never heard of? Oh, sure, I knew that Lauren was always a big fan of the ultra heroes, like so many kids are. But if you're saying that the masked girl at the mall was really her, I can't put my mind around it!"

"You're an Aladdin agent. It's your business to keep out a watchful eye for ultras. Blythe Ashwin was planted in our ranks years ago and she rose high. There is no reason to suppose that she's the only enemy infiltrator that we have to worry about.”

“Are you saying that an organized conspiracy put Lauren Sherwood into my home to spy on me, sir?”

I sure hoped that that was what he was saying._

"We can't overlook that possibility. We need more information. How did you first meet Lauren Sherwood?"

I took a deep breath. A good liar always tries to stay close to the truth. "Well, sir, a couple year ago, my mother and I hired a neighborhood kid to sit with the my son and daughter. She was a nice, sensible girl who worked out well. When she needed more money, she took a new job at one of the strip malls. But instead of leaving us high and dry, she introduced me to a friend of hers from school. It was Lauren Sherwood."

"You must be speaking of one Kelly Cantrell. And this friend of hers did not appear suspicious?"

I was slightly surprised that Smekes had already cribbed on such details as the name of my former babysitter, but I took it in stride. "I checked Lauren's references. She'd been doing babysitting around the neighborhood for a while and people whom she worked for were very positive about her. Her family had been living only a few blocks away from us for years. When I tried her out, both of the kids seemed to like her. She was punctual, did the job competently, and didn't cause any problems."

Actually, the young lady had seriously careened into the Dark Side once and nearly killed me, but Smekes didn't need to know that.

"A little earlier, I received some faxes from investigators who have been checking up on Miss Sherwood."

"Yes, sir? What have they found out?"

Sheesh! Lauren's body had barely cooled and already the cold, dead hand of Aladdin was sifting over her remains.

"That she represents a very interesting case. For one thing, she has recently changed physically, and to a remarkable degree. Her pictures as a freshman in high school hardly resembles the girl she is – was – today. Didn't you think that the changes you witnessed in her appearance over the last year were strange?"

"Well, of course I did. But kids seem to grow up fast these days. They say our food is loaded with hormone additives and GMO stuff. Anyway, her parents and teachers, as far as I know, never showed concern, so I just took it in stride. Anyway, over that whole year I was obsessing about making good at my new job at Aladdin. Now it looks like there were little things at home that I didn't pay enough attention to. Anyway, the change was a gradual one and she always seemed in good spirits and very healthy."

What I was telling him was mostly true, but I hadn't been as oblivious as I wanted him to believe. Lauren had been plain, flat-chested, and skinny when I'd first met her. At fifteen she looked more like a child of thirteen. But by the age of sixteen, she could have been a teen model.

Glancing up, I saw Smekes' scowl. "What you're saying disappoints me, Mrs. Blake, but it's true that you were not a trained agent back then.”

“Thank you for understanding, sir. I hope you can agree that I've been making some better calls lately. I think I have to give credit to the Aladdin training program.”

Oops; hold back on the flattery, Lukasz. Smekes is a clever rat, not a dumb donkey.

Whatever he thought about my remark, he didn't rebuke me. All he said was, “Possibly, young Sherwood made a deal with the devil."

"The devil, Colonel?"

"Figuratively speaking, of course. Some ultras can transform themselves. I'm especially thinking about Anything, one of the Freex. Couldn't some ultras be empowered to transform others? An offer of beauty would be hard for an ugly duckling to resist. Maybe Miss Sherwood's recruiters also offered her ultra powers. After all, there are companies that routinely make ultras out of ordinary people, and Aladdin has used similar technology. Why can't the people that are behind the rise of the ultras do the same thing?"

"Gaining Playboy Magazine-type looks and super powers, too? Who would ever have believed that babysitting could pay such -- large dividends?" I remarked.

Smekes' expression remained sober. "When you think of it, a babysitter is well-placed to be spy. She has easy and frequent access to her target's home. She also has no adult supervision most of the time that she's there. Even her employers' children will be sent to bed early.”

“That's true. I should have been more wary, sir,” I said, trying to make myself shrink with contriteness.

He ignored me. “You say that you were impressed with Miss Sherwood. Could it be that she was cynical beyond her years and doing what she had to, to keep on your good side, just to maintain access to your house?"

"It's possible, I suppose, if she was a good enough actress. But do we really have information that the ultras have created a subversive plotting and planning organization?" Whenever I can, I try to send hostile investigators down blind alleys, but Smekes didn't seem to be taking the bait.

Instead, he asked, "What do you know about the girl's parents?"

"Not very much, I'm afraid. I've been told that her father is a senior accountant. He and his wife separated last year. Lauren's always been reluctant to talk about the reasons why. The mother, by the way, is in advertising.”

“Why didn't the girl go with the mother? That would be the most usual thing.”

"Well, what Lauren told me was that her mother's new job called for her to take an apprenticeship in another city. Lauren didn't want to leave home and lose contact with all the people she knew. Mrs. Sherwood has been living in Santa Rosa, but she's put in for a company transfer to L.A. Anyway, Lauren's mother visited her often and their relationship seemed to be very positive."

“I wouldn't rule out the possibility that the parents were actually part of the conspiracy,” the officer confided. “We'll be investigating them very thoroughly – especially regarding what her mother's been up to while living out of town.”

This was paranoia, plain and simple, but it had given me an idea. Telling Smekes something that he'd soon be finding out anyway would make me look helpful while not doing any additional harm. "Now that you've opened my eyes, sir, I realize that there was something that I learned about Lauren that could be significant."

"What is that?"

"She was a tremendous fan of Mantra."

The officer silently chewed on that crumb for a few seconds. "It fits. She was calling herself 'Mantra' on Friday night, at least by the testimony of your own daughter. Many people at the Mall also assumed that she was Mantra. So, what do we have? Mantra becomes our prisoner but, several weeks later, Lauren Sherwood steps up to act as a new issue of the same ultra. Is it possible that those behind the spy plot have a good reason to maintain a Mantra-type agent around Los Angeles? And it's doubly interesting that they specifically placed her into the exact same suburban neighborhood that the other Mantra also frequented.”

“That is an interesting question,” I said.

“Could it be that Lauren has been closely associated with Mantra all along? In fact, she's at the right age to be her daughter. That would expose the Sherwoods as impostors who's job it has been to establish a false front."

Lauren my daughter? I did the math. Eden Blake was in her early thirties, though she looked younger. Lauren was sixteen. That would have put Eden in her late teens when the girl was born. Such a construction could work, but I wasn't sure whether I should encourage the idea or let it go. I decided on the latter.

"I wouldn't know about that," I said. "As for Mantra fan activity in Canoga Park, I know of a registered club that has four steady members." 

"Did Lauren belong?"

"No. I take it she didn't get along with the other girls."

"An alienated loner? A troubled, anti-social type?"

"Not that I noticed. She just seemed to be more reserved and studious than most other girls her age. I mean, she was the brainy type, which is impressive at a time when most school kids hardly seem able to tell you who won World War II."

Smekes went silent and started typing something into the keyboard in front of him. Then he glanced up, looking smug.

"I've just searched our data base for the name 'Kelly Cantrell of Canoga Park.' It seems that the young lady been observed in frequent contact with the ultra Prime. That's suspicious. I'm going to order her put under observation. Her movements and communications may lead us to a whole nest of ultra conspirators."

I groaned silently inside. Did every nice, ordinary high school girl already have a file inside America's black ops databases? Why should I be surprised? But there had been no way that I could have kept Kelly's name out of this ugly business. The secret files that the Company keeps on every agent -- including Eden Blake -- would have revealed all her connections, including facts about her babysitters. I was afraid for the girl. Aladdin could play rough, even with children, Gus being a case in point. If interrogated, did Kelly know anything that could compromise Prime? Infatuated teenage boys could be so indiscreet.

Smekes continued. "We also know that Prime has had some sort of association with our prisoner, Mantra. If so, she's so far resisted giving us even the barest information. However, Mantra and Strike have also been working in tandem. In the past, all three of these ultras have been observed acting together against the Company's interests. Since Strike has been implicated in the New York disaster, one has to wonder whether Prime may not have been involved in it also, even if he's only worked behind the scenes."

I didn't care for where this was going. Pretty soon every ultra not already in custody would be added to Aladdin's suspect-list for having destroyed downtown New York.

"But let's stick to the matter at hand," the sub-director stated. "It's possible that Kelly was the one assigned to spy on you first, and Prime was her controller. Finally, the girl was pulled out and Sherwood was sent in to take her place. As a powerful ultra herself, Lauren Sherwood would no doubt have functioned even better in the role. Whether Miss Cantrell is still associated with the conspirators remains to be found out. We might discover that she's an ultra, too, or at least a person who has long-standing connections with ultra interests." 

Ohhh, this whole thing was spiraling out of control.

Smekes lowered his voice. "We'll have to proceed cautiously. The ultras have already infiltrated Aladdin at least once. Ashwin won't admit it, but it's hard to believe that she was working alone."

I could only wonder how many times they had tortured Blythe Ashwin before giving up on their dead-end line of questioning.

"What do we have that's solid so far, sir?” I asked. “That Prime might be some sort of espionage ringleader?"

"Let's just say that we'll have to carefully consider such a possibility."

"If it's helpful, sir, I want to say that we should doubt that either Lauren or Kelly could have found anything useful inside my house. I've always been scrupulous about not bringing compromising material into our home."

"This is the Twenty-First Century. They might have planted listening devices, cameras, even, to catch everything inside your home that's either said or done. We're going to have your house and lot checked out carefully. Think back. Might you have let anything slip to your son, daughter, or mother that you shouldn't have?"

I shook my head. "They all suppose that I work for the CIA, just as I was instructed to tell them. I've always refused to answer questions that may involve my work."

"And does that go for your brothers and your personal friends, too, along with anyone who might have called on you at home?"

"I'm confident about that. I'm good at keeping secrets."

"Very commendable." If these words were intended to sound reassuring, his skeptical tone spoiled the effect.

At that point, Smekes eyes fixed on me, hard and cold. Though surprised, I recognized this as an old interrogator's trick, having met plenty of old interrogators. He wanted to spook me into thinking that I had somehow aroused his suspicions. The aim would be to see if my behavior would abruptly change or if I might start to protest too much about something. The poor fellow must have been reading too many outdated interrogation manuals. I've been played the espionage game for fifteen hundred years and so I didn't give him any reaction at all.

The colonel maintained his odd posture until, presumably, he started to feel silly. Smekes suddenly said, "I'm putting some additional people into Canoga Park to turn up everything that they can about the Sherwoods. You could be of great assistance, considering that it's your own back yard."

"Ahh, sir," I said hesitatingly, "working on the Sherwood matter would create a problem for me. I was thinking about closing my house and requesting a transfer to San Francisco. My son is being held at Alcatraz and I want to be able to visit him as often as possible."

He frowned. "Have you talked this over with Sarn?"

"Not yet. When I was with her, neither of us knew exactly what the situation was. We spent most of our time together planning for the deployment of NM-E."

He nodded. "I see. Well, your wish is an understandable one. Dr. Sarn intends to remain in San Francisco for some while. She's working on a project that's based there. I know how well you two brought off the Spear of Destiny coup and even captured Mantra as icing on the cake. If the doctor signs off on your transfer, well and good." He stood up and extended his hand.

Also rising, I accepted the shake.

"I was wondering, sir."

"Yes?"

"What will the public be told? Will Lauren Sherwood be buried as an ultra, or as some local girl who accidentally got killed during a random outbreak of violence?"

"That hasn't been decided," he replied. "Myself, I would prefer the latter. What the public doesn't know can't hurt the Company. But be assured, whatever we decide to say, the major press and media will fall into line and back up the government's press releases. That's their job."

"Yes, sir, and calling the death a tragic accident might make things easier for Lauren's parents, too."

"Oh, yes, the parents," Smekes remarked absently. "We certainly mustn't make things unnecessarily hard on America's bedrock – not until we can prove something against them."

I felt relieved to have the interview over with. Clearly, even a little bit of Colonel Smekes went a long way.

#

Once in the corridor, I leaned back against the wall, my eyes closed. I felt drained. I'm a hard case, usually, but the last few days had worn me down, and what had gone on today had taken me to the end of my rope. Gus was suffering. Pinnacle was suffering. I had failed to protect the reputation of Lauren Sherwood and her parents, and had done nothing to prevent Prime, Kelly Cantrell, and Warstrike -- excuse me -- Strike -- from being investigated by Aladdin. Also, I'd come across as being naïve regarding Kelly and Lauren. But, damn it, Smekes had been totally wrong about the pair of them in almost every particular!

Suddenly someone rushed past the place where I stood at hyper-speed -- traveling backwards.

To my dismay, I realized it hadn't been an ultra --- just an Aladdin agent in a business suit. Time was going unhinged again!

In a flash, the hall was a beehive of activity, with dozens of people going by at wild acceleration. I saw Coburn and then Wrath dash by me in the direction of Smeke's office -- in retrograde -- and then they came out again, still retrograde. In less than a minute things had sped up to a degree that was too fast for the eye to follow.

I covered my face and awaited my fate. Whatever power had me in its merciless grip was yet again moving me across the chessboard. How had this started? Why did it keep happening?

And how long could I keep my sanity if I had to live my life backwards...?

TO BE CONTINUED in Chapter 13