A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: Chapter 11

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: Chapter 11

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Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Arksoul

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I have to admit that I have a few reasons as to why I’m willing to conduct guerilla warfare against a machine army.

The first was because I needed to start getting assets for use in the post-apocalypse. I had a few bars of precious metals and uncut gems lying around, but the post-apocalypse was running off of actual value systems rather than perceived value systems. That’ll change in a few years with human nature rearing its head, but for now I needed stuff that people could use. India was a place filled with tinkerers, scavengers, and recyclers of many advanced weapons and equipment, so I had a personal stake in being a transporter of their goods to any upstanding, rising community.

The second was the fact that I had no feelings whatsoever for robots, even if they were built like bombshells, slender starlets, and lithe, lethal assassins. The face and looks might’ve gotten Shiva’s rocks off, and a few were probably recycled for a brothel or two, but I wasn’t going to be holding back against destroying them and earning myself an easy paycheck. Conventional explosives might seem like not a very good weapon against futuristic android capable of laying waste to armies, but when they blew up at point-black range again and again, they tended to do a good job and I had plenty.

And, finally, I was interested in lessening the chance that the army of robots was going to exist after I captured Shiva and destroyed his energy emitter. If they were tied to him on a dead-man’s switch, I’d have to kill him, which would ruin my initial plan of getting a new employee to make me very good weapons. If they had batteries that lasted for a while, I’ll also be in danger as they’ll all probably go after me to save their creator or something along those lines. Therefore, even if neither case was true, I was better off taking the precaution of cutting down their numbers just in case.

With those three reasons in mind, I was more than willing to take a seat on a lawn chair, peak through a telescope, and start teleporting explosives right next to critical-looking locations for the right price. All I’d have to do is find a place to hide in, preferably the mouth of a cave or a dozen, and put up some cameras, and then take a seat with boxes of explosives and start sending them in after they’re primed. From grenades, to satchel charges, and even some thermite, I was sure that I could nab myself an easy enough job before getting what I wanted done and getting out of India.

Of course, since the universe was out to fuck around with my head, things got more complicated that I wanted.

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I decided to stick around in the café for the hour. Again, I liked the place because it had good food and the owner treated me well. Even though it had plastic chairs, old wooden tables, and a bit of grime here and there, I was more than happy to just sit back, read one of the books I’d scavenged on a whim, and wait about an hour.

I regretted my decision, because the next thing I knew I was sitting in a plastic chair being looked at by more than a few superhumans who looked like they could eat me for breakfast.

“He doesn’t look anything like an American hero. Are they not usually covered in their stars and stripes?” A Sikh clad entirely in white peered at me. Rakesh’s mustache was nothing compared the elderly gentleman’s. His had curves and were sprinkled with silver hairs. The older man was a bit smaller than Rakesh, about my height, but he was obviously ripped beneath his robes and the chakrams in his turban and the sword on his waist looked worn, but freshly sharpened. “If this is a trick, Rakesh, you will lose what little reputation have left.”

The Sikh had two others at his back. They were younger men who emulated his fashion, although their turbans were a bit smaller, and their weapons looked newer. While one kept his gaze on me, the other eyed Rakesh and the other newcomers. It was obvious that Rakesh decided to bring in two people from opposite factions, moderates probably, who could speak to others in Indian. That was the logical thing to do so that you could get people from different perspective to work with on another, but I could tell that the situation wasn’t nearly as simple as that.

The Sikhs were on guard against the other group present and I couldn’t blame them.

They were the sort of people I never interacted with.

Politicians.

“Please, gentlemen, be civil. We must present ourselves as a united front before the world, at the very least.” The Indian in the pin-striped suit wore smile as a mask. He had perfect, pearly-white teeth and shiny hair. Not a single drop of sweat was on his brow, despite the heat, and behind were two inconspicuous individuals in suits with bulges beneath their jackets. I was sure that they were superhumans, but instead of dressing the part they were fine with being cogs in a wheel, which meant they had no issue with following orders to the letter. “We disagree on many things, but we should at least unite against grave threats.”

The man looked clean and proper, but exuded an aura of sliminess and greed that really made me want to hurl. I did my best to not look into his soulless eyes, but somehow it felt like I’d die if I didn’t. His eyes followed my every move like a predator, like he was just waiting for the right moment to ask me to support him in his next election, so that he could continue grifting off the local populace by lying to them about rebuilding infrastructure and doing nothing but ask for money while in office. Well, that’s how it would be in America. I wasn’t sure how it worked in India, but I could still tell that I was talking to a politician who was out only for his own personal gain.

“Under you and your petty schemes and plots? Never, Arun.” Rakesh spoke up with a growl and turned to the person he brought along. The merchant was dressed less opulently than everyone else present, his clothes were worn and mended in certain places, but I could tell that he knew his stuff. Everything that he wore was business casual from before the apocalypse and he was shuffling through papers and accounts like an old professional. The guy survived the apocalypse and Indian’s rapid changes in environment as a regular merchant, so I had to stay on my toes around him. “Do your duty, Sagira.”

The businessman nodded, a bit scared at Rakesh, but from the moment he laid his eyes on me I knew that he was authentic.

He looked at me like I was a fat, massive payday for just a split second, until I gave him a nod of respect.

A scowl formed for just a second on his face, until his meek and trembling persona returned.

“T-this is an overview of what is asked of you, Mr. Egress.” Sagira’s English was good enough to convey faux fear and trepidation. The unnamed Sikh looked at him with worry, while Arun’s smile remained placid and dead on his face. Rakesh nudged the man to get him to stop stuttering. Two of the three representative superhumans of the city didn’t know they had a shark between the three of them. “As you can see, your s-services will primarily be as a means of delivery of sophisticated weapons made to destroy Shiva’s machines. Your safety will also be guaranteed by several forms of defense, which you may keep if you wish, in lieu of a portion of payment.”

He was the typical middleman who knew how to work with superhumans. I met a lot like him as intermediaries between warlords. There was always someone, somewhere who wanted a cut of the pie by offering one skill or another in exchange. Superhumans, even the ones that thought they were the next step in evolution, made use of people with various skills because no one could do everything without going utterly, completely insane in the process.

Unfortunately for this middleman, he was operating against someone with a ton of experience in brokering deals.

The first step, of course, was disrupting his bargaining power by putting his powerbase against one another.

“Who will it be from? I hope it’s from the Sikhs. Your people know your weapons and armor.” I sat straight and nodded towards the Sikh superhuman. The change in atmosphere with my words were swift. Rakesh scowled at me, while the politician shifted slightly to keep the Sikh in the corner of his snakelike vision. Sagira was barely able to stop himself from reacting at my sledgehammer of a move aimed at the individual least-used to wheeling-and-dealing in the group. “I apologize for not giving you my name, but I want to keep my privacy, sir.”

I offered him my hand to shake and the Sikh took it.

I felt the politician eye the firm, simple handshake between two guys like a snake.

Seriously.

This Arun guy was creepy as hell.

“Yes, my people know their weapons and armor. We have worked with Shiva and protected many capable young people against him, and while some seek to please him and work with him, we oppose his mad ambitions.” Ah, the wonders of exploiting existing relationships between nearly-hostile parties. It’s a lot easier than doing it with two enemies, because two enemies knew jack shit about one another and didn’t have anything in common. Two factions that had to work with another because of a greater threat with far different values? Yeah, they were a lot easier to work and twist to my advantage. “You will be given one of our latest forms of protection against Shiva’s armies. Rakesh said that you are confident in your ability to avoid attacks, but one cannot be too careful, of course.”

“Of course.” I agreed with a smile and a nod, while the Sikh gestured at one of his companions. The young man didn’t even bother looking at the experienced merchant’s way as he reached to a satchel at his side. The guy froze when Rakesh suddenly held up his hand. I smiled at the mustachioed, muscular man who continued to glare at me. “Is something wrong?”

“Egress, this is not the time for games. I can tell that you mean to put us against one another and get what you believe you are owed… but these two are not as amicable as they seem to be. They are closer to blows that you could ever imagine and you work against yourself by fanning fires to instigate their rivalry.” Rakesh spoke without any grace. He pointed out facts like a sledgehammer and pointed out the little conglomerate’s disunity without batting an eye. I respected him for that. He knew that if he didn’t do it that I’d play them against one another while getting what I wanted. “Take this and deal with us all fairly as one people.”

Rakesh took the satchel that he had on his side since arriving at the restaurant and set it on the counter. It fell on the table with a thud and for a second, given its weight, I thought it was a bar of gold. That was until Rakesh took off its covering. It was worth far, far more than just a bar of gold.

It was power.

“This is a fusion fuel cell. It is what powers the greats of Shiva’s creations. It converts hydrogen in the atmosphere into Hydrogen-3 and it has enough deuterium to function for fifty years. Its output is fifty megawatts per hour.” India kept this little thing as their primary export. It was the reason why some first-world nations had strong enough professional armies capable of tangoing with superhumans and keeping the average ones in line. These bad boys let America run around with fighter-jets armed with energy shields capable smashing through buildings and fire directed energy weapons that could melt through tanks in seconds. 5 of them could replace the reactors of a nuclear carrier. “Take it and cease trying to sow disunity amongst us. We have plenty of that already.”

Sagira let loose a breath of disbelief at the situation, but after shaking his head the merchant rolled with the punches and met my eyes.

“The defenses are yours to keep. You will be allowed access to the armory of the city and can take two weapons systems and their munitions. Within reason and under observation, you may take exotic explosives based off fusion and plasma.” The politician side-eyed him and he shivered when he didn’t mention that was his faction’s portion, but he ignored the threat and soldiered on to get the deal cut without me interfering. Man, this guy knew his shit. I would’ve totally jumped on the opportunity to stir up more trouble to my benefit, because I didn’t plan on sticking around anyway. “You will paid in a set amount of Rupees or materials. We will not allow the trade of our people to you, even if they are criminals. Shiva being contained and exiled to your care is an exception.”

I nodded at the information, before laying what I wanted on the table.

“Tea and spices. A metric ton of both in amounts we’ll agree to later once a month for ten years and a favorable price on it after. Also, the right to lease land and rent it out for raising poultry and pigs. I want to be able to use that land as a base of operations to trade, too.” My demands got raised eyebrows from everyone except the merchant. Sagira went from eying me with respect for my navigating around his clients to eyeing me with absurd envy. Yeah, he knew what was going on, especially since he knew what I could do with my power. I was setting up a one-man trade line and cutting out all the middlemen that I could. This was going to be a straight-to-wholesale business for a captive market baby! And, of course, the best part was that it would cost India nothing since I’ll be making all the profit abroad! “What do you all think? Can you all manage it?”

The three leaders shared looks with another and then to their chosen representative.

The merchant came in expecting to land a big fish, but now he found himself without any profit, and had to accept the fact that he at least didn’t make a loss.

Tough luck, buddy.

No one ever expects a mercenary like me to go for the long-term options.