Chapter 19: Jerry X Esther

Jerry had only been guessing about the drones, which were so quiet these days that he couldn't have heard them if he was trying to. But that much was fortunate. If he had been able to hear them, so would Huma. That might have alerted her to what was actually going on, and that would have been no good at all.

Jerry shivered under his multiple layers of clothing as he put on an extra safety mask. Cold as it was today the layers were as much about protecting him fro the fumes as they were keeping him warm. Or for that matter, leaving his exact body shape ambiguous. Information was at a premium in the world right now. It was the lynchpin of the entire plan, really. Nobody having any idea where he was. Tracking down Jerry's IP address alone would not prepare anyone for what they were about to find.

Peering through the window of his miserable little shack with binoculars, Jerry could see the Social Justice Army approach via their helicopters. Ah, so they had helicopters now? This was no real surprise, of course, but it did demonstrate just how important Jerry Shankar was in the grand scheme of things, that having already lost their drones, the Social Justice Army were now also willing to throw precious helicopters, fuel, and most importantly, personnel at the goal of capturing him.

As expected, about a dozen members of the Social Justice Army jumped out of the helicopter and just...ran out into the fog? Not even making a slow approach? Jerry marveled at their overconfidence. Of course, if these augments actually worked the way they were supposed to, they could filter out the poison, improve visibility, and put a damper on the pain which their bodies would normally use to warn them of the situation's extreme danger. Since this danger wouldn't show up on their sensors, they wouldn't realize the truth until it was far too late. They were already dead.

Soon a second helicopter showed up. And in disturbing, almost mechanical fashion, another dozen members of the Social Justice Army jumped out the helicopter, and ran off in the exact same direction. But then the last one came out, looking different. For one thing, she appeared to be wearing a helmet. That was smart, albeit unusual, since they had no reason to suspect this particular situation. Any halfway decent combat helmet would have more advanced filters than whatever their augments were operating with.

The woman started screaming at them to stop. Only around half of them did, the others continuing to charge into the fog. An argument ensued. She started smacking them upside the head, the lot of them looking ashamed, their heads hanging down. Jerry grimaced. This could be bad. If they started sweeping the area properly he would have to get to the bicycle and hope that he got to his emergency hiding spot without being spotted. There would be no time to take down the interface in the shack, so the Social Justice Army would figure out his entire operating structure. Such an inconvenience could eventually be remedied, but it would take time off from the current window of golden opportunities.

But all of a sudden one of the men turned around in a sudden panic. Yes, yes, that was right, thought Jerry. Your friends aren't coming back. The first man ran off before the woman could stop him. One by one so did the rest. The leader wearing the helmet managed to grab the last one by the arm, but was rewarded for her concern by being struck so hard her helmet fell off. So, then, did the last member of the Social Justice Army run off into the void, their leader left nearly helpless in the fumes of the anaerobic lagoon.

Jerry grabbed the rifle off the wall. He left the shack and started the long, slow walk to the woman's position. Jerry was careful not to overexert himself, and also not to take unnecessary risks. He could see the woman struggling to reach her helmet, squirming helplessly on the ground, reeling from the blow.

"Hello," said Jerry, waving his right arm. "My name is Jerry Shankar. What's yours?"

The woman stared at him in dumb disbelief. She looked at the rifle in his hands and decided this was not the time to argue.

"Esther Okerye", she said, coughing. "Chief Field Commander of the Rainbow Shirts."

"There's no sense pretending you're at my complete mercy," said Jerry. "I know how these fumes work. They wouldn't even kill me if I was in your place. And I don't have any augments."

Jerry took hold of the rifle and aimed at Esther. He fumbled with the safety, very carefully trying to avoid an accidental misfire in the process. Jerry didn't think he could hit her at this distance anyway, but he had to emphasize how serious he was.

"Good question," said Esther. "Why don't you just shoot me?"

"I'm curious what you were talking about with your friends there," said Jerry. "How did you know this was a trap? And why didn't you just warn them ahead of time? Why are you the only one with a helmet?"

"They're not my friends. I didn't know this was a trap until we actually got here. I'm the only one with a helmet because I'm the only person in the Rainbow Shirts who approaches unknown situations with any level of appropriate caution."

Jerry could feel the harsh tension and stress in Esther's voice. So this wasn't a one-off problem with her.

"Would you mind explaining," said Esther, "what exactly this stuff is? Where are we? The map said this was a random patch of land in the middle of nowhere. I thought you were just spoofing the signal but then the drones didn't come back."

"It's an anaerobic lagoon," said Jerry.

"A what?"

"You're old enough," said Jerry, "to remember what life was like before the Great Blackout. You remember how pig meat used to be everywhere, how we would just throw it away, that's how plentiful it was?"

"Pig meat," said Esther, with definite venom. "I hate pig meat."

"Well, not all of the pig is edible," said Jerry. "At those old hog farms quite a bit of material was produced that was completely toxic. The defecations, the stillbirths, any part of the pig that didn't produce the right kind of meat really. Well, an anaerobic lagoon is where all those byproducts got tossed. We're not that close to it here but it's kind of like a nuclear meltdown site. The closer you get, the more certain death becomes. And even from this far out we can all feel that something is horribly horribly wrong."

"Why isn't it on the map?"

"That's the beauty of it," said Jerry, "it's an illegal anaerobic swamp. Or maybe nobody told the mapmakers. These are the dirty little secrets hidden by your precious United States. It's poetic isn't it? Killing you like this?"

"Except you aren't killing me," said Esther. "You're just talking my ear off. Why?"

"What can I say?" said Jerry. "I find it very interesting that this trap didn't kill you when it worked on everyone else.

Jerry took careful aim with his rifle and shot at the helmet. His first few shots missed, and he was getting annoyed.

"No, no," said Esther. "Line it up with the sight and steady yourself. Breathe and focus. Stop trying to imagine sight lines."

Jerry took Esther's advice, not really expecting much to come of it. He never had much talents with guns. To his great surprise, this time it worked, and he blew the helmet farther away.

"Thank you very much Miss Okerye," said Jerry, very politely with a minor bow. "Why did you help me?"

"Because I didn't want to lie here all day waiting for you to shoot the helmet," said Esther. "It's not like you could seriously damage it with a weapon like that. Why did you listen?"

"Oh," said Jerry, shrugging his shoulders, "I'm really not as arrogant as my videos make me out to be. I'm always open to constructive criticism."

"Really," said Esther. "A pity we don't have more like you in the Rainbow Shirts. Sure you don't want to join up? You've got the right pigment. I bet my boss would overlook the fact that you're our sworn archnemesis."

"You're funny," said Jerry, failing to suppress a laugh. Esther's deadpan, matter of fact delivery gave her line a decidedly dark edge. "I kind of get the feeling that joke was more for your benefit than mine."

"Who says it was a joke?" said Esther. "Forget the goal. Days like this I'd be grateful for the chance to work with someone who's not a complete idiot."

"It really doesn't bother you?" said Jerry thoughtfully. "The fact that I just killed a couple dozen of your comrades-in-arms."

"That's just war," Esther said. "Now if we're done talking, can I get back to wriggling my way toward the helmet? I may not be the most reliable source on the matter but I'm pretty sure you can escape back to whatever hole you crawled from before I have a chance to give chase."

"Sure, sure," said Jerry. "But better safe than sorry."

Jerry took aim at the helmet again, keeping Esther's advice carefully in mind, and once again managing to blast it farther away. This time it was on his first try, even though the target was smaller. Jerry beamed to himself as he skipped back to the shack. Sure, he had murdered a large number of his enemies, and humiliated them on a live national broadcast. But those were just his original expectations for today. In addition, he had also learned a new skill, and also had possibly made a new friend. That upgraded today from just a great day, to an amazingly wonderful day.