Present Day

Chapter 31

Irony's Cruel Rod

The flicker of a television served as the only light inside a spacious sky loft apartment. Dark shadows lingered in the corners of the sparsely furnished room that did not show any signs of having been lived in. A man stood at the kitchen bar and slowly poured himself a glass of gin. Instinct identified the bottle for him and experience told him when the glass was full. He drained his glass in one fluid gulp but took no pleasure in the task.

Commander Argus Smith closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sounds emanating from the television. "President Alexander has declared a state of emergency for the entire tri-state area. We are still unable to bring our cameras onto the streets because of interference and concerns about radiation. The blast destroyed a majority of the mountain chain, sending dust and debris hundreds of miles in every direction. Local authorities are issuing state wide evacuation mandates. G.U.N officials have thus far refused to give a statement as for the reason for this horrible attack that has so far killed an estimated-"

The reporter's voice drooled on, but Argus forced the sound down by draining a second glass of gin. While he could not ignore the reporter, he could not ignore the high pitched ringing sound in his ear quite as easily. The military doctor had diagnosed Argus with Tinnitus several years ago. Argus recalled how grave and serious the doctor had been when he had explained the possible reasons for the incessant ringing and the possible benefits of medication. Argus's first thought had been one of relaxed dismissal. If after a sixty year career in the military, the worse he had to show for it was a bit of ringing in the ears then he considered himself extremely lucky.

Yet, as weeks stretched into months and months into years without any relief from the constant pain, Argus wondered if Tinnitus was in fact worse than many of the wounds he had narrowly avoided throughout his career. Not for the first time, Argus wondered if the Almighty had not reached out His hand to torment Argus in order to remind him that despite all his endeavoring, he was nothing but dust. The cold irony of simultaneously being one of the most powerful men in the world and yet tortured by a minisucle disease was not lost on Commander Argus Smith. His life was rife with such occurrences.

His hands were steady as he poured himself a third glass. His assistants would nag him furiously tomorrow when they found out how much he had drunk, but for the moment, Argus did not care. He was still trying to remember the dream that had woken him the night before. During the day, activity kept the ringing in his ears down to a low whine and could be ignored. At night, however, the ringing became unendurable and sleep was almost impossible. Argus only slept for a few hours anyway and those were purchased with pills and other means of practically immobilizing himself.

Last night though he had truly slept and had fallen into his first deep sleep in what felt like months. In his dream the ringing sound had transformed into the wailing of a siren. The alarm was immensely familiar to Argus but he could not remember exactly where he had heard them before. The hallway he had been running through also seemed familiar but again, Argus could not place it. His dream self had been hunting something, some kind of monster. He was armed with an old timey machine gun, the kind that had been first issued to him when he joined the military all those decades ago. Argus had heard the screeching and roaring of a terrible beast behind a metal sliding door. He had been nearly paralyzed with fear but he forced himself to go forward. When the doors slid open, his gun fell out of his hand. There was no monster, no roaring. He just saw himself standing in the center of a play room. A woman sat on her knees beside her young son and played with him.

Despite appearing pleasant at a surface glance, the sight woke Argus with his heart racing and his skin clammy with sweat. The third glass of gin brought no answers and neither did the fourth. When he made to fill up his glass a fifth time his hand shook and he accidentally knocked the bottle aside. It fell onto the kitchen floor with a crash! Argus stumbled away from the bar. His head was starting to ache and the alcohol was fueling the ringing in his ear.

He glanced at the television and saw the all too familiar image of the destroyed Emerald City. Rage boiled in the pitch of his stomach and he snatched the remote and muted the volume. Argus staggered over to the table nearest to the drawn windows. He clutched onto one of the chairs to prevent himself from falling over. Too much. He thought bitterly. The ground was slanting beneath him and he feared he would topple over without support.

To ease his sense of dizziness, Argus closed his eyes and wandered blindly through the room. Somehow he managed to make it to his study without breaking anything. A motion controlled light switch detected him and turned on the lamp beside the desk. Argus leaned and braced himself against the strong oaken table. He felt like a sailor lost at sea who had finally been driven to drink the salty water. The gin was churning in his gut and threatened to come erupting up his throat but Argus forced it back down.

He opened his eyes slightly and saw the letter still partially open on the desk. Before he knew what he was doing, Argus had reached for it. Reading it for the hundredth time would not change its contents nor would it do anything to improve his condition. However, in his current state, such rationalities were beyond him. Argus smoothed out the page and stared longingly at the flowing, slanted handwriting.

Father

I won't tell you where we are because I know you will just come looking for us. When I left, I thought I just could walk away forever and never think about you again. That was wrong. They say that time heals all wounds and perhaps mine are beginning to at least scar over. I don't take back all of what I said, but I would like to soften the blow. I know you were hurting just as much as I was, and now that I have Wesley I think I understand why you reacted the way you did. There is something about being a parent that changes you. Love for a child is nothing at all like love for a spouse or a friend. I think that is why I wanted to reach out to you. I couldn't bear to imagine what it would be like if Wesley left me and vowed to never speak to me. I want this letter to be an olive branch. I think if I were to try and speak to you over the phone or meet with you, old wounds would surface and I would not say what I want to say. I know you would call it weakness but I don't think identifying a flaw and using whatever means to overcome it makes me weak.

Wesley and I are happier than we have ever been. I work for a marketing company that really respects my creativity. It doesn't pay as much as the others I used to work for, but at least here I feel like I can be myself. I really enjoy my work and my co-workers. Wesley has grown up so much. He looked so much like mom at first but now I think he is starting to look more like you. I think you should consider giving G.U.N's marketing person a raise because Wesley is in love with all the shows and toys they put out. He spends hours playing with toy jet planes and helicopters and I often have to drag him away from the military channel. At first, I really didn't like how much he was interested in that stuff. I mean…who wants their kids playing with fake guns? But I think I'm starting to understand. Explosions and actions draw him in, but he stays for the tales of heroism and sacrifice made by the people involved. I think it inspires him. Am I allowed to feel the same way? Can I loathe what the military turned you into and still feel proud about all that you have accomplished?

I'm not sure when I will write again. This was harder than I thought it was going to be. Please take time for yourself. However fragile it may be, you have my love always. Your daughter, Candince. P.S, Wesley loves his grandfather as well.

Argus placed the letter back on his desk. It was marred with a few more splotches where fat tears had fallen on the page. Command Smith braced himself more upon the desk. The letter had stolen more of his energy and his head was aching worse than ever.

He had been standing in this exact room when they had brought him the report. His daughter had perhaps trusted that he would respect her desire for anonymity. But the leader of G.U.N was far too accustomed to knowing everything. His daughter's letter had been traced as soon as he had received it. The cold, vengeful irony that hung like an ax over his whole life struck again and more fatally than ever before. No sooner had the reports of the explosion come in did Argus receive word that his daughter's letter had come from Emerald City.

Had she died with her silence intact, would Argus have been able to more easily shake the blow? Why had it come after she had attempted to reach out to him? The sheer cruelty of that question pressed on his heart until he felt it might burst. Why did he even still have a heart? When was the last time he had even made use of it?

Argus's legs started to shake and he slumped down onto his knees. The ringing in his ear rose in volume. He pressed his hands up to his head to try and drown it out but only made himself feel more nauseous. Suddenly, the ringing shifted. Again he heard the wailing sound of sirens. This time, Argus could identify the sound. They were the alarms of the Space Colony Ark. Unbidden, the memory stole over him.

He had sat inside the space pod with his rifle over his knees. No one spoke on the entire trip. Everyone knew what they were about to do and it made them all sick. Perhaps they feared if they opened their mouths they would reveal their discomfort and throw up. Argus had been a young marine then. This was his first commanding mission. Their objective was simple; kill everything aboard the Space Colony Ark.

Before take off, the marines had been lectured on the reasons for the mission. Argus could hardly pay attention as the commanding general detailed all the horrific experiments that had taken place and the potential threat they posed to the surface. All diplomatic solutions had been explored. That was the main message that had been pressed on the marines. This hostile action was the only way. Argus knew that wasn't true and every marine that went with him knew it as well.

When their pod landed inside the Ark, the alarms had started right away. Argus could hear people approaching the pod, probably curious as to who had arrived without clearance. It was his job to set the tone for the rest of his men. If he wavered, if he failed to shoot when he had the chance then his team would lose their nerve. As soon as the hatch doors opened, Argus closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. His gunfire was quickly echoed by the others. When Argus opened his eyes a team of unarmed scientists were dead. It had started and there would be no stopping it until the mission was complete.

He did not remember everything about that day. Only a general picture of repeating hallways, red lights, and the sound of sirens. Argus remembered firing his weapon but he could not recall any of the faces he had shot at. His memory did not solidify until the end of the assignment. They had reached the bridge and had managed to lock the two most important subjects of their mission inside.

Maria Robotnik was classified as catch or kill. Shadow the Hedgehog, on the other hand, was a strict kill order. The brief pause in the combat put a spell over his fellow troops. He could see in their eyes the dawn of apprehension. They were starting to realize what they had done and what they were complicit in.

"Shadow is stronger than we realized. He's already taken out a number of our forces. I don't think we can storm the bridge." One of his lieutenants had told Argus.

It had been Argus who suggested that they isolate the bridge and deplete its oxygen. He could vividly picture the faces of his fellow marines as they looked at him. Fear mingled tightly with disgust. They all knew it was the only way, but only Argus could give the order. After waiting a few minutes they were all shocked when a hidden escape pod suddenly fired. Cursing himself, Argus ordered that the bridge doors be opened.

What he saw when he walked in was something he would never, ever forget. Maria Robotink lay beside the bridge terminal. Her small, frail body looked diminished by death, however her face was calm and still. It looked almost as if she were sleeping. Horror and a profound sense of self-loathing rippled through Argus as he beheld her. After all his military oaths, after all his training, and sacrifice, all he had to show for it was the petite body of a child killed on his order.

Worse still, her death had meant nothing. Shadow had not died with her. Argus thought his heart might split from the shame and guilt. Even when reports from the surface announced that ground troops had been able to capture Shadow when he landed back on the planet, and that all the people who had taken an escape pod had been tracked down as well, he did not feel much better.

His first command had been a rousing success and had sparked his quick rise through the military. Yet, privately, Argus had always considered his career stained, marred by that first sin. It was the reason so much of his labors turned to ash in his hands. Everything he accomplished was always mingled with disaster, tragedy and partial victories.

After a sixty year career, Argus Smith sat alone, propped up against his study desk. Maria and Shadow were just as dead and gone as his wife, his daughter and the grandson he had never met. His eyes were drawn back to the television in the other room. A reporter spoke with a green screen behind her displaying the ruined city with black choppers flying down towards it. The "G" symbol was plastered on their hulls.

G.U.N was all he had now. It was his last legacy and the only thing that could prove that he had ever existed at all. If all that he had suffered was to have any meaning then G.U.N had to prevail. Argus's hands balled into fists. Divine retribution had knocked him down so many times, but he had never given up before and he would not do so now.

He gritted his teeth and climbed up his desk to steady himself back onto his feet. All those tragedies, all the losses he had suffered had been because of a lack of power. Power trumped all. It was stronger than intention, stronger than luck or destiny. With absolute power came absolute control and the ability to turn the tide of cruel, mirthless irony. A strong hand would not come down from heaven to humble Argus Smith, if he was the strong hand.

Argus walked around his desk and pressed his finger against a small metallic device. It lit up and read his print. The top of his desk opened to reveal a hidden compartment. A long metal lens extended up to his eye. Lights scanned his retina. Despite drinking heavily, his eyes were as clear and colorless as ever. "Access Granted." A computerized voice announced.

One of the desk drawers opened. Pink light shone onto Argus's face. His expression, if there had been anyone there to see it, had changed. A greedy, hungry, beastial smile spread the corners of his thin, mirthless mouth. He reached down and withdrew the Sol Gem. Perhaps the murder of Maria had cursed him. Upon her tomb, almost as an altar, he had laid down his wife, daughter and grandson. But now he was beyond her reach. Beyond the reach of any god, or devil. Ultimate power was his and with it he would make G.U.N invincible.

Perhaps it was a blessing, a gift from cruel irony that his heart was dead. He would not need it anymore. Power did not suffer rivals. Before it relished the security it brought, it had to first remove all other contestants. Fortunately for Commander Argus Smith, he had been gifted the perfect blueprint for just such a strategy. And, as irony would have it, it just so happened to be the gift of Maria Robotnik's half brother.