Broken Worlds: Age of Ruin

After a tense drive through the desert, Drayke, Joseph, Tess, and myself arrived at the gates to New Phoenix. The city was surrounded by massive walls that kept raiders out, and had guards patrolling a perimeter a few miles outside the city itself.

“Credentials,” a BlackTech soldier requested as our limousine rolled up to the security box. Drayke, who was driving, pulled a small, leather fold from his pocket and handed it to the man. After a few seconds of scrutinizing every detail that the object had, the guard handed it back. “Welcome to New Phoenix, Mr. Schtauffen,” he said with a respectful nod, and motioned for Drayke to continue driving.

We eventually reached an alleyway about a block away from the building where the banquet was being held. “This is your stop, Joseph,” Drayke called back to us, and Joseph nodded as he slid a ski mask down his face and quickly exited the vehicle, carrying a duffel bag that held his equipment for the mission. Drayke then turned to me and Tess as we sat beside each other awkwardly. “Remember, your names are Jason and Kris Richards, and you’re here on honeymoon. You’re a rather rich pair, and aren’t really taking sides in the war. You’ll have to ad-lib the rest, but I’m sure that will be easy,” he said nonchalantly, and we pulled up in front of the building. “Go on in; I’ll park the car. Remember, you’re married, so link your arms!” he hissed as we stepped out of the limo.

I gave Tess a nervous look and held out my arm, which she happily hooked around her own.

“It’s good to see you showing some sort of emotion other than anger,” she murmured as we walked toward the entrance. It was a large, marble structure that looked almost like a government building, with a large dome on top and patriotic flags adorning the sides.

I laughed emptily. “I’ve always been awkward around girls, and I’m not one for physical contact. Those two things at once is like a living nightmare for me,” I explained quietly.

Tess raised a teasing eyebrow. “Oh? What happened to the stoic survivor, wandering the wastes of Earth on his own?” she asked, giggling slightly.

I gave her a serious look. “Any problems I face in the Wasteland, I can just shoot. This is more of an emotional thing,” I said hotly.

A well-dressed waiter walked up to us as we stepped inside the building. “Hello, and welcome to the third-annual BlackTech Charity Banquet. Would you like me to show you to your table?” he asked politely.

I gave the man a slight nod. “Yes, thank you,” I said smoothly, and the man led us to an empty table. There were two plates set up, each with a fork, knife, spoon, and a glass of champagne. I sniffed the drink a few times, and took a sip.

Tess gasped. “Wayne, what are you doing?” she whispered, glancing around to ensure no one was listening, “you aren’t old enough to drink!”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. I’ve been living on my own for almost a year, and water isn’t always the cleanest outside city walls. You really think I haven’t had my fair share of alcohol?” I asked, raising a challenging eyebrow. “Besides, it’s not like I’m an alcoholic or anything; I’m very withheld with my drinks, and tend to stick to the finer wines and champagnes,” I added, and took another sip, swishing the liquid around in my mouth a few times. “Hmm. This stuff is non-alcoholic,” I commented, slightly disappointed. “I guess BlackTech doesn’t want to risk anyone getting wasted at this thing.”

Tess eyed me suspiciously for a moment, before taking a good look around at the room. “This place is beautiful,” she said in an awed voice as she stared at the paintings that covered the ceilings. I looked up and nodded appreciatively, as the pieces that stared back at me looked like Renaissance-era paintings. The artist clearly took inspiration from DaVinci and Michelangelo.

“They pulled out all the stops for this thing,” I said in a hushed voice, and the waiter who had led us to the table earlier approached us with his hands behind his back.

“Are you ready to order yet?” he inquired, looking back and forth between us.

I nodded. “Yes, I will have the fillet mignon with a ceasar salad, and some more of this delicious wine,” I replied eagerly, glancing at my glass. It wasn’t the greatest wine on Earth, but I knew a casual request like that would help my cover.

The waiter nodded eagerly, and turned to Tess. “And for you, my dear?” he asked.

Tess tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm… I’ve heard this place has a very good roast veal. Do you have anything to add to that?” she asked maturely.

I raised an impressed eyebrow as the waiter discussed the particulars that went into preparing the restaurant’s veal. She was good at this, much better than I thought she would be.

Maybe this mission will go smoother than I thought, I thought as Tess nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes, I think I’ll have that, and some grilled potato skins as well,” she said with a quick glance at the appetizers. The waiter nodded dutifully, and then scurried off.

I took another sip of wine. “Well, that was some excellent acting,” I said quietly. “I wonder how Drayke is holding up?”

Tess nodded, giving the room a quick once-over. “I think that’s him over there,” she said, pointing subtly at the entrance. I turned and saw an aged man with pale, blonde hair sweet-talking one of the waitresses; I recognized Drayke’s disguise almost instantly.

“Why’s he hitting on the waitress?” Tess wondered aloud, “I thought he and Cadence were married, or at least in a relationship.”

I shrugged. “The same reason you and I are disguised as a married couple and drinking wine; to blend in and appear inconspicuous,” I replied, and heard feedback spark through a speaker system throughout the room. I looked up to see a white-haired man approaching a podium and clearing his throat.

“Esteemed guests,” he said in an icy, silky voice, “welcome to BlackTech’s third annual charity banquet. I hope the food and drinks are to your liking, as DeLancie’s has earned a reputation for their amazing dishes. Between you and me,” he said, lowering his voice, “I personally prefer the prime rib.” As he said this, I heard a few disappointed murmurs from the nearby tables; apparently, they had considered this dish, but second-guessed themselves.

“But I digress,” he said suddenly, resuming his full speech-giving volume, “Tonight is a night of remembrance. I know many of you here have friends or family who lost their lives because of the tragedy four years ago, or perhaps some of you have loved ones serving in combat as we speak. Tonight’s meal is in honor of them, and the idea they fight for: we will not be silenced!” A cheer resounded from throughout the room. “The Equestrians think that we will just take their assault without retaliation; they think they can launch a global attack on our species, and expect us to lay down in the dirt? No!” he shouted angrily, but calmed his voice. “This war has also done much good for mankind, though. We have been brought us together as a species, and petty things like race, gender, sexuality, and age are no longer major social or political issues. Our technology has advanced significantly, giving us the tools we need to win this war, as well as the tools needed to survive in this changed Earth. So please, continue your meals, converse with one another, and know that although some of us may be different, deep down we are all the same.”

The man stepped back and bowed slightly, and everyone in the room applauded. “Who was that?” I asked Tess over the cheers.

Tess followed the man with her eyes as he strode over to a glass punch fountain and poured himself a drink. “I’m not sure,” she said slowly, “but he must be important. If only we could get close to him…”

I nodded, taking one final sip of my drink and standing. “I’ll be right back,” I said quickly, and strode confidently across the room toward the table the white-haired man stood by.

“Hey!” I said cheerfully, and the man glanced at me. “That was a hell of a speech you gave up there,” I said, extending a friendly hand. “Jason Richards. I’ve got a brother fighting on the front lines,” I introduced myself.

The man slowly reached out and shook my hand, an uncertain look in his eyes. “Cyrus Anderson,” he said bleakly. “Tell me, Jason, can you keep a secret?” he asked suddenly.

I shrugged, pouring myself a drink from the nearby fountain. “Sure, what is it?” I asked.

Cyrus reached into his suit coat and pulled out a small, silver flask, pouring a clear liquid into the glass of punch he held. “BlackTech strictly prohibits the imbibement of alcohol at their public events, especially by personnel,” he explained, glancing around nervously and taking a sip.

I nodded slowly. “Why take the risk, then?” I asked in a low voice.

Cyrus shrugged, rolling his shoulders. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately,” he said admittedly. “Tell me, what is your stance on the war?” he asked suddenly.

I shrugged. “Can’t say, really,”” I replied nonchalantly. “I mean, it’s terrible, what those Equestrians have done to us, but I don’t think it’s right to just go in and kill them; after all, what if they didn’t mean to attack us?” I pointed out.

Cyrus nodded slowly. “And your brother? What does he think?” he pressed.

I was already finding holes in my lies, writing them as I went along without properly backing them up. “Uh, I never really got along with him,” I explained awkwardly. “When he heard that BlackTech needed soldiers, he was on the first bus out of town.”

Cyrus sighed heavily. “It’s a shame, really, that humans are so willing to rush into something without any prior knowledge. Your brother knew nothing of the enemy we were fighting, and was willing to fight them with little thought. Human’s are a patriotic species, and that is our biggest weakness; we no longer fight for people, we fight for symbols.”

I nodded. “You’ve got that right,” I said with a humorless laugh.

Cyrus glanced over at me, a friendly smirk stretching across his lips. “You’re alright, Jason,” he said, patting me on the shoulder sloppily; apparently, whatever he had put in his drink was a little stronger than typical alcohol. “I’m not even working for BlackTech because I’m against the ponies; I’m not particularly fond of them, but I couldn’t care less either way if we beat them or not,” he admitted.

I gave him a shocked look. “What do you mean?” I asked, trying to keep the eagerness out of my voice; this guy was about to spill some crucial secrets.

The man chuckled sadly. “I’m only working for BlackTech to appease my father,” he explained. “He’s a rather important person in the company, and it would crush him if his only son wasn’t as successful as he was.”

I stared at Cyrus. “Is your father… the C.E.O.?” I asked slowly.

The man glanced at me questioningly for a moment, and then he sputtered with laughter. “Oh, heavens no!” he guffawed. “No, my father is a geneticist, working on the more human-oriented projects BlackTech is researching,” he explained.

I nodded, suddenly several soldiers had entered the room, and were eying me and Cyrus while talking into communicators on their wrists. “‘Human’ projects?” I inquired, “What other projects would BlackTech be working on?”

Cyrus leaned in close, placing one arm on my shoulder to keep himself upright. “BlackTech is working on something big,” he whispered, giggling slightly, “an automated army that could rule out the need for human soldiers. My father thinks humans are much more productive than machines, but,” he said, slurring his words and swaying, “what does he know?”

Just then, Cyrus collapsed on top of me, and I took a panicked look around as the soldiers advance on me. Just then, something hit me: I’ve got an unconscious guy lying on top of me, and several armored guards are headed in my direction. What’s this going to look like to Joseph? “Things are about to get loud,” I muttered, giving Tess a look that told her to get moving. As she stood, one of the windows shattered and a guard fell to the floor, blood leaking from a hole in the side of his head, and the guests exploded in a panic.