Rip's Adventures, Rip and the Tunnel, Part IX

“I’m sorry, Colonel, but I think you have me confused with someone who gives a damn about this continent,” Rip began. “I still don’t believe that crap about a detox cure, if you think that’s supposed to win me over. I’m ready to die. I’ve had one helluva life and to be quite honest, I’m tired of this shitty world. I never was very excited about trying to save it, and to be frank, I think you’re wasting your time. So you have an army of glitter boys. Big deal. Free Quebec has an army of ‘em and they haven’t saved the world yet. I used to be all idealistic like you guys are. That’s why I joined the Quebecois military. And that little decision convinced me that my idealism was worthless. Quebec joined the Coalition States to help be part of a better world. You know what happened? They got attacked by their own so-called ‘countrymen’ when Prosek decided to pursue his little vendetta against Tolkeen and the Quebecois wanted none of it. I wound up fighting the same damn soldiers I was raised to believe were my allies. It’s a cruel, harsh, unforgiving world out there, Copper. I’m ready to be done with it. Even if your ‘cure’ does work, you think I’d waste my life following your hopeless little dream of rebuilding America? Sit and spin, lady.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Rip,” Col. Copper scowled. As Thebes looked on rather heartbrokenly, the colonel looked to the sergeant standing at the door and said, “Bring him in, Colby.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he responded and quickly ducked away.

“So what, you got somebody who uses flowery words to try to convince me? Give it up. I ain’t buyin’ it.”

But Rip wasn’t prepared for what happened next. As he stared at the door expecting some smooth-talking militant to come in and try to convince him of the impossible, his jaw nearly dropped at what he saw instead. A familiar face that he never expected to see again stepped through. He was a blonde-haired, dark-eyed man of tawny complexion and scars that bore the wear of years of heavy combat. Colonel Roget Lavoisier, his former superior in the Quebecois Special Forces, Juicer Division. He was everything Rip had ever aspired to be: a stone-cold killer, quick, methodical, efficient, and utterly without remorse. He had worked in the art of death the way a cyber-doc worked in the art of bionic conversion. He was utterly without fear and focused on his craft unlike any other soldier Rip had ever seen. Back in his days of working for the Quebecois military, Rip had idolized the man.

He was wearing a N.E.M.A. jacket and sporting a most unusual sidearm. On top of his head he wore a green beret and around his collar was the insignia of an Army colonel. “Bon jour, Lt. Col. le Blanc,” he smiled as he spoke. As Rip continued to gap with awe, the man continued. “I understand Isabelle here caught you stumbling across our little operation.”

“That’s right,” Col. Copper turned to Rip, eyebrows raised. She had played a trump card and Rip knew it. “I’ll leave to let you and Col. Lavoisier get reacquainted.” She then stepped outside and shut the door, leaving Rip, Thebes, and Col. Lavoisier alone.

Thebes looked quizzical. She wasn’t sure what to make of this reunion. She suspected that Lavoisier and Rip had been comrades-in-arms at one point, but didn’t quite grasp the extent of it. “So, Rip, you know him I take it?”

“This man was like a father to me. He was my C.O. back in my days serving as Quebec Special Forces. I would have followed him to Hell. But he should be dead. He was already three years in when I got juiced. There is no way he could be alive.” Rip stood up in deference to Lavoisier, although he still half-believed he was staring at a ghost.

“It’s really me, Chenille,” Lavoisier said. “I’m alive and I feel better than ever. A couple years back the Army told me that they had a pilot program for juicers who had proven themselves to be exemplary officers. They had a new detox regimen for me to try which was supposed to increase my chances of kicking the juice and said if I was successful, they’d promote me to brigadier-general. At first I wasn’t interested. I had been a juicer for six and a half years. I thought my fate was sealed and I was ready to accept it. However, they managed to convince me that I was worth more to them alive than dead. So I tried their new detox regimen, but all it led to was the bottle. While I was at the military clinic in Trois-Riviéres, feeling lousier than I’d ever felt before, a nurse came into my room and told me that the Army detox program was not going to help me, that I had grown too dependent on the juice and that unless I trusted her, I would be dead in under a month. I was miserable and ready to try anything, so I did as she said. She gave me a shot of something and attached a device to my chest. I suddenly felt immensely better. She then told me how to get away from the clinic at night when the doctors wouldn’t notice and told me a vehicle would pick me up on the outskirts of the city. She said the people in the vehicle would give me another shot to keep me going and get me to a top-secret facility where I would be back to normal in less than three days. I followed her directions and met the vehicle like she said. After a man from the vehicle gave me a second shot, I passed out. I woke up in southern Pennsylvania two days later a different man. It wasn’t painful. I don’t even remember it. All I know is that these people, the Republicans, gave me a new lease on life. Since then I have seen incredible things and learned the true history about the Great Cataclsym. The Republicans are the good guys, Chenille. They have a plan, an excellent plan, to bring true peace, freedom and solidarity to the people of North America.”

“I’m sorry, Rip, but why does he keep calling you Chenille? Isn’t chenille a kind of fabric?” Thebes asked.

“It means ‘caterpillar’ in Old French,” Rip replied. “It was my call-sign in the Quebecois military.”

“Oh,” Thebes said after scratching her head for a second.

“It’s because of the way I used to crawl along the ground when we went commando. Stupid nickname, really.”

Thebes couldn’t help but grin. “I’m just learning all sorts of stuff about you today, Chenille.”

“My name,” he began angrily, “is RIP. And I’m not a lieutenant colonel anymore,” he said, turning to his former commander. “I haven’t been one since I left the SF in 107, right after you were declared dead as I recall. They said you were going on leave and you never came back. Word from the brass was that you heard Last Call. After that I attempted to resign my commission, but they branded me a traitor and tried to have me executed. That’s when I fled to the New West and made myself a new career as a merc. So tell me, Lavoisier, why should I listen to you after you abandoned me?”

“Because, mon ami, not only do we have a plan, we have the means to make it happen. You’ve already seen some of their amazing technology. They have the most incredible weapons I have ever seen as well; powerful, accurate, utterly stunning weapons. I may not be as strong or as quick as I once was, but with their superior technology, I am just as deadly on the battlefield. I know it sounds unbelievable, but it’s true. You are dying, Etienne. You can’t do anything to prevent it. But the Republicans’ detox process; it is your chance to get your life back. And on top of that, you will have a life worth living. The Coalition States, those back-stabbing sons of bitches, we are going to take them down, all of them. I’m talking Prosek, his son, his generals, all of them. It’s going to happen, and you can be a part of it.”

“Decapitate the heads of CS government eh?” Rip rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re that naïve. All you’re gonna do is create a power vacuum. You’ll throw the whole continent into complete chaos and open the door for the bugs or the Splugies to take us over. And you want me to help clean that up? No thanks. I’d rather go to Hell. At least there I’d have a chance.”

“It’s not so simple as all that. You have to trust me.”

“And why should I trust you, huh? You left me once. As far as I’m concerned you’ve got nada credibility left.”

“Damn it, Etienne! Don’t you see? I wanted to make a difference so that men and women like you wouldn’t have to waste their lives killing their fellow mankind. It is the demons of the world that we should be worried about, not the petty bickering amongst ourselves. And for the record, I never abandoned you. I had the Republicans try to hunt you down to recruit you as well as soon as I recovered. But by that time you had already vanished. The official line from Quebec was that you were executed for treason, but I knew better than that. I knew you were too good of a soldier to let yourself be captured. And I have never stopped looking for you. You were my best officer and the best damn shot I have ever seen. Please, mon ami. Give me a chance to prove it to you. At least let them get that damned harness off you. Then you will see I am not lying. I promise you, I will show you our plan, and if you still want to leave. I will let you.”

Thebes sat rapt with attention at Lavoisier’s words. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. If it was truly possible to overturn the oppressive empire of the Proseks, she couldn’t imagine what improvements might be made. Rip meanwhile seemed to remain skeptical, but ponderous. He put his head in his hands for a moment and sighed. “Give me a day to think about it,” he said.

“That, I will give you, mon ami. Mademoiselle Antilles, I take it by the look on your face you would like to know more?” Lavoisier asked.

“Oh yes, please!” she said excitedly.

“Then come with me,” he beamed, offering her his arm.

She stood up but looked back at Rip. “Will you be okay here by yourself?” she queried.

“I’ll be peachy,” he replied.

“Terrific! Let’s go, er, monsieur Lavoisier,” she said, taking his arm.

“Please, call me Roget,” he said politely.

“Alright then, Roget. Show me everything!” And with that, they exited the room, leaving Rip sitting on his bed and thinking hard.