Rip's Adventures: Rip and the Tunnel, Part VIII

“The Republi-whats?” Rip asked in confusion. Even during his time in Quebec Special Forces he had never heard of such a group.

“Yea, I’m a little lost too,” Thebes added. “We thought you were Neemans. At least that’s what your insignias say.”

The red-haired woman smirked and looked down on her N.E.M.A. badge. “So goes the legend,” she replied. “The truth is the ‘Neemans,’ as you put it, died out a long time ago. We are merely vestiges of that organization, more properly known as the Northern Eagle Military Alliance, a peace-keeping group that once existed for the sole purpose of defending Canada, Mexico, and the United States of America. I myself am part of the 14th generation descended from a group of people who survived the Great Cataclysm and swore to uphold the values and beliefs of the American republic as it existed before the Coming of the Rifts. Hence, we now refer to ourselves as the Republicans and wear the symbol of N.E.M.A. as homage to those brave heroes who alone defended America against the alien invaders who arrived in the aftermath of the Great Cataclysm.”

“Wait a second. I remember now,” Thebes piped up excitedly. “Erin Tarn wrote about you in ‘Our World.’ But she said you lay claim to Washington, D.C., the old capital of the American Empire. She never mentioned anything about Virginia. And she said you were locked in some kind of war with an unknown enemy. I can’t believe you really exist!”

“It’s true,” Col. Copper responded with a nod. “We’ve existed since the Great Cataclysm itself.”

Rip thought all of this was only mildly interesting. He was more concerned about being let out of the confining cell. He was not about to let two women gab on about the past while he was a prisoner. “Look, if all this history crap is true and you do believe in freedom and that other garbage, why are we being confined like no-good thieves? We didn’t do anything to hurt you.”

“That may be the case, Lt. Col. le Blanc…”

“Don’t call me that. My name is Rip,” he interrupted.

“Fine then, Rip. That may be the case, but I’m afraid the existence of our group has to remain a secret, at least for now, and you were very close to learning too much, not to mention extreme danger.”

“I’m a juicer, lady. Danger is what I do best.”

“Why yes. I’m quite aware of that. I’m also aware that your time on Earth is growing short. Our bio-scans picked that up as you entered our facility?”

“What are you talking about?” Thebes asked with worry on her face.

“Godsdammit, this is why I didn’t say anything. Women get too emotional about the subject. I’m fine. I’ll be around for at least a month longer, maybe a few if I’m lucky. Plenty of time to finish your damn mission.”

“That’s not what I was…” Thebes began but was interrupted by Col. Copper.

“We also know about your telepathic abilities Miss Antilles.”

“What?” Thebes asked. “How? Do you have psi-stalkers around here?”

“No, but I think you’ll find our bio-scanners to be quite comprehensive. We’ve even learned to detect psychic abilities.”

“That’s impossible!” Thebes exclaimed. “That kind of technology doesn’t even exist.”

“I believe you’ll also find we are far more technologically advanced than the Coalition States, even most of the alien races that now inhabit our planet.”

“Wait. Most?” Thebes looked quizzical.

“Well, we aren’t mages, so we don’t quite understand techno-wizardry or Splugorth bio-wizardry, although we’ve learned to detect the presence of devices using such magic. But in all other ways we are technologically superior or equal to every other race we’ve encountered on this planet.”

“If that’s the case, why don’t you own this planet already?” Rip asked tiredly. This conversation had begun to bore him immensely. He wished this Col. Copper would stop with her encyclopedic responses and stick with simpler answers.

Thankfully to Rip, Col. Copper’s next reply was actually quite simple. “To put it bluntly, we’ve been fairly limited in numbers for ages. But that’s all about to change.”

“Oh, do tell,” Rip said sarcastically. He detected another long-winded soliloquy coming on.

“Truth is we have far more weapons, power armor, and tools than we have manpower. We have the supplies to equip an army; laser rifles, particle beam weapons, golden eagles, chromium guardsmen…”

“Huh? Golden eagles? Chromium what?” Even Thebes was starting to get confused now. She hadn’t heard of some of the stuff Col. Copper mentioned.

“Chromium guardsmen. I believe you know them as ‘glitter boys.’ And golden eagles are much like the S.A.M.A.S. power armor suits used by the Coalition, although ours are a little bit more advanced than even their latest models,” Copper replied.

“You mean to tell me you have an army of glitter boy suits and no one to use them?” Rip asked skeptically.

“In a word, yes. That’s pretty much our situation,” responded the red-haired woman.

“That’s unbelievable. How?” Thebes querried.

“I’m afraid that’s going to have to remain our secret for now,” Copper said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we have them, and we’re recruiting.”

“Now it all makes sense,” Rip was finally coming to understand why he and Thebes had been kidnapped. “You’re trying to bring us into this little war of yours aren’t you? You snatch people up, bring ‘em in here and attempt to brainwash them with this noble story of past heroism and preserving the old empire.”

“America was never an empire,” Col. Copper said sternly. “It was a democratic republic, not a totalitarian fascist state like that the Proseks have built. The Americans of old did not believe in oppression and dictatorship. They believed in justice and truth, as we now do. So do not lecture me about brainwashing because that is not who we are.”

“Prove it. Let us go,” Rip demanded, getting up and staring down Col. Copper.

She glowered at him for a few moments, clearly not intimidated. Then a wry smile formed on her face. She held up her hand and pressed a button on her arm-guard. The door behind her opened and two Republican soldiers peered inside. “Is everything alright Colonel?” one of them asked.

“Yes, everything is fine. This man would like to leave. Please escort him and his charge out and give them back their ATV. That is of course, unless they’d like to stay and learn more about the tunnel they discovered.”

One of the soldiers cocked his eye, but before he could say anything, Thebes blurted out, “No! I mean, are you telling me that Neeman complex we found is yours?”

“Actually no,” Copper replied. “But it is the reason we’re here.”

“Rip, hold on. Let’s stay and listen to what she has to say. I’m still paying you to work for me and I want to know more.”

“I thought you were paying me to defend you. And I think getting out of this place is the best thing for both of us right now.”

“Well if you leave me behind, you’re definitely not getting paid. So look at it that way.”

Rip groaned in frustration. He hated this kind of stuff. But Thebes had a point. He definitely wasn’t getting paid if she was going to be stubborn and stay here to listen to more of Col. Copper’s patronizing sob-story. “Fine. Whatever you want.” Rip stood down and went back over to lie on his pad.

“Okay, sorry about him. He’s a mercenary. I’m sure you know his type,” said Thebes apologetically.

“Quite,” replied the colonel. “We’ve actually dealt with number of his kind over the past few years. Especially juicers approaching Last Call.”

“Why is that?” Thebes asked. She was rather puzzled to hear that they would want people who were near death.

“Well, to be frank, we have something to offer such desperate individuals: a cure for their addiction,” the colonel said smugly.

Rip sat up. He had a disbelieving frown on his face. “Yea, you and every detox clinic from here to Colorado. All hype and no substance. They do a disservice to all juicers by offering them false hope, just like I saw during the Juicer Uprising. You think I’m going to believe that bullshit?”

“You don’t have to believe it. But you wouldn’t be the first. We’ve actually cured a number of juicers five years or older with better than ninety-five percent success.”

“Impossible,” Rip said. “And even if it wasn’t, they’d be nothing but a shadow of their former selves. No juicer wants to live with that. I’d rather die on the battlefield.”

Copper nodded. “While it’s true that you’d no longer have the enhanced reflexes and strength that non-stop adrenaline and synthetamines give you, our medicine is far beyond that of which you currently know. We can prevent almost all of the negative side effects and reduce the average detox time from two and half weeks to less than two days, as well as provide powerful sedatives and an anti-addiction procedure that make the process much easier to endure. It’s nothing short of a medical miracle, and we’re willing to offer it to you for free.”

“I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, colonel,” Rip said with disbelief. Surely there had to be a catch.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s only free in the sense that we wouldn’t demand payment in credits.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Rip said, his superciliousness quite evident.

“I think you’ll find that what we have to offer in exchange for your abilities as a juicer is more than worth it. You’ll be given access to our enormous stockpile of advanced weapons and armor, not to mention a cause worth fighting for.”

“And what cause would that be?”

The colonel smiled. “The only cause worth fighting for, Rip: the freedom of the entire continent.”