Science Fiction
Time for a Change
I never knew who our benefactor was, or how many there were, I just knew that they must have had a lot of money. It also seemed to appeal to them to recruit a small army of young women.
They found us through our posts on social media, and seemed to have access to some deep algorithm that could identify us. The kind of access only money could provide. They knew we were angry about the world, about the old men that clung to power supported by younger men who hoped to replace them one day, and how it was always the women and the children that suffered. Innocents die, but no-one had learned the lesson, so often taught, that only the truly wicked harm the innocent.
Our online presence also showed that we had the skills and inclination to do something about it, for we were all practitioners of martial arts or athletes who were also intelligent enough to flourish in academics.
I think we were all suspicious at first, but it probably helped that the principal person of authority we met was known as Miss Szabó. She seemed quite insistent with regard to the honorific, although we never knew why. She had quite short blonde hair with bright blue eyes and was presumably older than us, although not by much according to her appearance. There was also a medical doctor, Dr. Rossi, who had endless patience for the many bumps and bruises we recruits gave each other, Miss Schmidt, who was Miss Szabó’s shadow most of the time, and Miss Sato, who distributed all the weapons.
There had been a series of meetings after we were first approached, initially over Zoom, then through a more secure channel. We were told that the objective in recruiting us would be secret until much later, but we could at any time opt out of any agreement. Eventually twenty of us were invited to a chateau in France, all expenses paid. We had come from all over the world, and without giving specifics Miss Szabó introduced us all to each other. There was a Kurdish woman called Miss Baran that had been a fighter all of her life and who spoke every language used in the Middle East. A Ukrainian called Miss Melnyk spoke every language of Europe, a Korean girl called Miss Kim spoke every Asian language while also being a competitive archer, and a French woman named Miss Martin did parkour. An African American, Miss Jones, was introduced as a weapon specialist, and to my surprise I was introduced as Miss Smith who was an historian and also a weapon specialist. However, it turned out the American knew guns while I knew how to use other weapons.
I turned to the girl next to me, a Miss Devi from India, and asked if “Devi” happened to be the most common name in India. Her face brightened into a huge smile.
“Yes! But I don’t mind, it means “goddess”. If anything, her smile got bigger.
“Sounds better than ‘Smith’, “I whispered. The South African girl leaned forward.
“My name, Ndlovu, means “elephant,” and she pulled an unhappy face.
“Yes, Miss Smith,” Miss Szabó intervened. “An effort was made to select people of diverse national backgrounds, and a name for you was selected from the most common in your homeland. I would have thought that someone as interested in swords and knives as you would quite like the name Smith.” I hadn’t thought about that.
“But “Jones”?” asked Jones.
“Apparently it is the most common name in the United States, Canada, Britain, and Australia,” said Miss Szabó. “Someone had to get it.”
“Yay Mr. Jones, he must have been a randy bastard,” said Jones.
“Oh! Well actually it’s a patronymic,” I couldn’t help myself but share. “It means child of John, which was a very common name in the Middle Ages.” This was true, but now I had labelled myself as the biggest nerd in the group.
“Don’t you worry about it, honey,” said Jones. “I reckon all of us are nerds about something or other.” She was right, of course.
The camaraderie that grew between us recruits developed very quickly, and some of us knew each other through the various platforms through which we had expressed our dissatisfaction with the world. We had so much fun together, all sharing our knowledge and our training with each other. We were all given strange outfits like body-hugging jumpsuits of thinly padded fabric of some sort, all in black. Our training included hand-to-hand combat, guns, knives, and extendable batons. We trained and essentially went about our day while fully armed and wearing the strange costume.
“Do you think it’s bulletproof?” Jones asked me one day.
“It’s certainly knife-proof,” I told her, having tried it as soon as I got it. Miss Sato had given me a number of nice knives, two for fighting, three for throwing, and also what appeared to be a tactical sword of a black metal. I was not the only one to get specialised equipment, Kim got a bow and a strange quiver, while Ndlovu got a heavy-ended club.
There was a great commonality in our view of the world, and given that our number included women of diverse spiritual backgrounds it was expressed something like this:
It had been two and half thousand years since Buddha had preached that wisdom, kindness, patience, generosity and compassion were important virtues. Two thousand years had gone by since Jesus had preached forgiveness and the virtues of poverty, saying that it was the meek who would inherit the Earth. One and a half thousand years had passed since Muhammad had made charity a pillar of Islam. Yet here we are with a world filled with men who hungered only for money and power, and who would undertake any wickedness in order to gain these things and keep it.
The patriarchs and oligarchs of the world cared only for their own power and gain, while many other men wanted only to become one of their number, to the detriment of their souls and of the very Earth on which we all lived. We agreed it was fear and weakness that drove this need for power and domination, and we also agreed that it would benefit the world if these men had something else to fear: us.
So it was that we had agreed that what we wanted to do was exactly what our benefactors had brought us together to do.
After two weeks Miss Szabó summoned all of us together. We had by then become accustomed to assemble, standing in two lines at attention until we were told to stand at ease. This was more natural for some of us than others, but it was Melnyk who pointed out that the ones standing straightest had taken ballet.
“Tomorrow we will leave for a new, more secret location to continue your training, and so it is time to tell you what you are being recruited for.” Miss Szabó paused and looked at all of us, and we all looked excitedly at each other. Finally, we would know what this was all about.
“This world has major problems. Our benefactors have worked against the causes of many of these problems, but they have finally come to the conclusion that only by direct extraction of some of the causes can the world pursue universal prosperity and peace. We, including all of you, but also, I together with others you will meet at our facilities, have been recruited because we share the same opinions. The problem, as we see it, is that there are men in the world who have lusted for power, and as a consequence power is what they have. Very few of these men have been elected in free and fair elections, but they have power, nonetheless. Even elections can be won by those who control the sources of information and know how to manipulate the weak-minded. In order to keep power, these men are responsible for terrible crimes against innocent people, and also against the cause of peace. Our mission, should you choose to join us, is to remove those men from the equation. Our intention is to extract them, and keep them in a facility where their psychotic need for power can be treated.”
“Can’t we just shoot the bastards?” came a call from the back.
“Preferably not, Miss Jones,” said Miss Szabó. “Otherwise, you will be no better than them.”
“They had no scruples when they killed my family,” said Miss Haddad from Syria.
“Or mine!” said Miss Melnick.
“Or mine!” called Miss Baran.
“Or mine!” answered Miss Szabó angrily, to everyone’s surprise. “Do not allow your loss to make you less of a person!” she said. “The missions will be dangerous, and it is possible that some of you will not survive, but now you know our objectives, you must now decide whether to stay with us, or to go home. We will also be asking you to go through procedures and take drugs that will help you to survive. You have until 12 noon today. Return to your rooms, and if you wish to stay with us, report to Miss Sato at that time. If you wish to leave, report to Dr. Rossi. Any questions?” A hand went up. It was mine.
“Will these procedures or drugs do permanent harm to us?”
“No, but I will admit they are secret and not approved by anyone’s government. However, I will also say I have been through all of the procedures with no apparent problems. I can assure you that they will not be cutting anything out of your body that any of you were planning to use!”
There was some whispering as we filed out, but most of us were deep in thought and we largely returned to our rooms in silence. I sat in my room and pondered the world and what I wanted to achieve in it. I want to achieve a lot, but what should that achievement comprise? It seemed the world was becoming a less livable place, with disastrous climatic change and the growing power of the oppressive. I thought of my family, and how they would feel if I never went home. But I know they would want me to do whatever I thought was the best thing to do.
Shortly before mid-day I left my room and headed to the armoury to see Miss Sato. Others were there before me, and we exchanged a grim smile of acknowledgment. Miss Sato gave us all new sidearms, an unusual-looking gun with a long barrel. Jones, who I was not surprised to find was already there, was practicing drawing it from its holster.
We were told to meet again in the assembly and training area, where to Miss Szabó’s satisfaction every single one of us had returned. It seemed that the algorithm that had found us all had done its job well. She told us to stand in a big circle facing inwards, and then proceeded to walk around the outside of the circle.
“These new weapons do not kill, they stun only. They will not be effective against your new tactical suits when you get them, so this will be a good chance to see how they work, and to see if you are willing to shoot someone and be shot at.” The hackles rose on the back of my neck, and I started to look around the room at my cohort. “So, on my signal, you will all start shooting. Last one standing gets a prize? Ready? Now!”
There actually was not a pause after she asked if we were ready, but in fact we were all ready. I ducked and rolled, then whipped out my weapon and shot at someone, I had no idea who. I continued to fire from my position on the ground as bodies fell around me, until I realised that I was the only one left. I bent down to someone, it was actually Melnyck, she seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
“So, no-one seemed in a hurry to shoot the Canadian!” said Miss Szabó. I looked at her and smiled, but then saw her reaching for her own weapon and realised her intent. In a moment I thought I should just stand there and take it, to show that I could, but then I thought I should try to shoot her first, to show that I could, but in the millisecond, it took for me to think this backwards and forwards in my mind several times she pulled her trigger first.
I woke up inside a moving vehicle on a gurney, one of several that lined a dimly lit windowless space. Others were already awake and greeted me when I opened my eyes. Eventually the van arrived at the destination, and we came out blinking into the light.
It was another chateau, although this one was rather dilapidated in places and seemed to be in vast wooded grounds. We were shown our new rooms, which were thankfully not as musty as some other parts of the building, and there we put on our new tactical suits. There were also helmets that covered our entire heads. Miss Sato came to each of us to make sure our suits fit properly, and our kit was attached to it comfortably. She showed us how to fit the helmet, and then turned it on! Inside was a heads-up tactical display, and she showed us thermal imaging and other capabilities.
Miss Sato then led all of us to a former ballroom which would be our main training and meeting area. There we were introduced to the stealth function of the suits which made us all invisible. We were all to train in this equipment from now on.
The procedures and drugs were to increase our strength and resolve. The injections that increased our strength were very painful, but we all really enjoyed the added strength and speed. Drugs enabled us to act without fear, for example I had a fear of heights, but was soon jumping around the rooftops of the chateau with Martin, our French parkour specialist.
Eventually we went on our first missions. I was with Jones, Baran, and Martin, leaping from rooftop to rooftop in the night of a Middle Eastern city. We entered a palace complex with ease, being completely undetectable, and used our side arms to neutralize any threat. Finally, we crept into a palatial bedroom and surrounded a bed. But then we broke with the mission plan. I turned on the lights, and Baran woke the President. He blinked at the light next to a lady too young to be his wife, and we turned our stealth capacity off. Realisation and fear suddenly swept across his face so that he was about to shout, but then we shot him. Soon he was asleep inside one of our body bags and we were airlifted from the roof by silent drones.
All around the world patriarchs and oligarchs disappeared. Often, they were replaced by the same sort, but more and more continued to vanish, and even their replacements could not increase their security such that we could not extract them. World leaders began to work towards peace and prosperity for all, or face the consequences, which were, after all, completely unknown. Meanwhile, at a ranch in Wyoming, the patriarchs and oligarchs were taught how wisdom, kindness, patience, generosity, and compassion were important virtues.
We continued our work, for even in a world of peace there are petty drug lords and slave traffickers that need to find a better life, but it was worthwhile, and we had a wonderful life together, picking flowers and dancing through meadows. Then I thought “this is absurd”, and I woke up.
It was all a dream. I got up from my bed, made some coffee, and went to watch the news. Wildfires and violent storms filled the screen, death and destruction from every corner of the world vied for attention, and always it was the innocent and those that sought peace that were the victims…
Author’s note: This story was partly inspired by, well, The World, but also by the work of Katzenauge which can mostly be seen on DeviantArt. He made the two images for this story.
