The Free Men

[Max35]

Here's another trite offering of fiction by me, comments are welcome

“The Free Men”

Chapter 1:

Jack Maron stood in the elevator, a cold, steel box that held him in. He felt like his every move was constrained. Just a few more moments, he said to himself. At last he heard a dinging sound, and the harsh metal doors hissed open. Two Combine elite soldiers greeted Mr. Maron, staring almost curiously at his expensive Italian suit (a startling white) his gold watch that he vaguely remembered buying from a shady merchant in Switzerland, among other things attached to his tanned skin. These soldiers had rarely seen such luxury, and they came closer to him, sizing him up like wolves unsure of their prey, maybe he was a predator?.

“Let’s go”, one of them finally said, motioning with his hand. Mr. Maron followed into the large office of Dr. Breen, strolling on the Persian rug as if it were dirt underneath his feet. The dictator stood and extended his hand when Maron came close enough to the great wooden desk.

“Always a pleasure, Mr. Maron”, Dr. Breen greeted.

“A rare honor, Doctor”, Maron replied. They stared at each other for a moment, then Maron said

“What can I do for you?”.

Dr. Breen came around the desk and folded his arms.

“As you know, we have had infestation problems within the city for the past few years. In the past months though, they have gotten much worse. I’ve had to call reinforcements from surrounding cities to deal with the problem.” Dr. Breen sighed deeply and continued.

“It’s becoming a real nuisance”, he admitted.

“It must be more than that, for you to summon me here,” Maron offered.

“I admit, that much is true. Our forces are straining. Our prize city can’t fall to these beasts. The consequences, political and otherwise would be....unnerving.” Dr. Breen released.

“I understand, Doctor. When should I begin the termination. Your men must be out of the vicinity before I continue. I can’t guarentee their safety,” Maron said blandly as if he couldn’t have cared less about those men.

“Won’t you need protection?,” Breen asked, startled.

“I have my own men, and this,” he gestured toward his pure black briefcase. “Enough to level an entire city block. I’m sure you can appreciate that kind of force,” Maron almost whispered.

“Oh, yes. Breen replied. “You may start tomorrow, the sewers within the eastern sector are hopelessly infested. This must be completed by the end of the month, Mr. Maron, a building project is ensuing....”

“I can’t guarentee that, Doctor,” Maron cut him off as he strolled back to the elevator.

“You forget who holds the reigns of power,” Breen retorted, lowly, menacingly.

This happened often with his meetings with Dr. Breen. It started polite enough, but turned hostile quickly, all veils thrown off.

“Power can be lost so easily,” Maron said as he stepped inside the elevator, the steel doors seemed to embrace him in an instant.

 

[Max35]

That shitty, eh?

 

[Asknoone]

Fan fiction isn't bursting with life Max
I'll forgive you for double posting..merely because its fan fictions and I suppose it doesn't matter that much, but lets not make it a habit eh?

 

[Max35]

Soz for double posting, cap'n

 

[Asknoone]

An interesting beginning Max, but I wonder how well you've thought it out? Infestation as in zombies? Surely that would hinder the rebels...or if it was getting a problem, they could block off the area.

Mr Maron seems intruiging.

Looking forward to the next chapter.

 

[Max35]

Infestations as in Antlions, headcrabs, other alien wildlife.

And Mr. Maron is being sent to "block off the area" with his explosives, of course, a decent story would never make things that easy...

 

[madog]

How weird, sort of cool i guess

 

[Max35]

Chapter 2:

“He’s late,” declared Dr. Gary

“He’s always late, give him a few minutes. It’s not like you have anything more important to do,” replied Maron bluntly and sneered to himself. Gary’s voice more than vaguely reminded him of a toad’s croak. Slow and guttural.

“I’m not helping you save the world, that’s for sure. Invading that rat’s nest and setting a flamethrower on high isn’t exactly heroic,” Dr. Gary lamented.

“You have too many delusions, my friend. But if it keeps you focused on the task at hand, then so be it.”

After a long pause Dr. Gary spoke in his gruff voice

“He’s a very persuasive man” here Gary gestured towards the oppressive Breen screen with a gnarled finger. “I learned that the hard way.”

Maron gave a slight nod and focused his attention on the Breen screen.

“A letter from one of my loyal citizens has reached me today. An outpouring of honesty is something noble, something rare prior to our Benefactor’s appearance in this world struggling for guidance. It reads thus

‘Dear Dr. Breen, since the Combine have taken over our cities, I have often wondered if this is the best for humanity. We no longer represent what we once were, but instead live under the shadow of the Combine, our natural urges suppressed, our evolution stunted. What will become of the human race, and will this eventual mutation of our beings become admirable or simply a mirror of what the Combine want us to be? Do they have our best interests at heart, or are we simply an industrial tool being modified to perfection?”

Sincerely,

A doubtful mind

“Doubtful, I appreciate your letter and I am glad to inform you that doubt is perhaps one of the most useful traits of humanity, and it should be savored. It saves us from arrogance at times, keeps us from engaging in the implacable urges of human nature when it becomes a detriment. The rebellious seed in your heart is fed by an overlord authority, such as a child disobeying its guardian. Your doubt is an effective weapon against the juvenile, and eventually harmful behavior you exhibit. And while the consequences might not seem apparent to you now, just like a child lost in the wilderness, shivering in the night air, they may prove fatal and irreversible.

Keep in mind that our overlords are not forgiving entities by nature for we, as a species, are creatures of repetition. Rebellion, mindless reproducing, pointless sadism, all these things are traits of ourselves, in one capacity or another. It feeds a darker urge. And when this urge is sated, we feel accomplished, elated. But this compulsion is imperfect, and nothing will come of it. So remember, your doubt is useful, it saves you from falling into the pit of damnation and oblivion. It makes us cautious, wise, enlightened. And there is really no greater gift our conscience can bestow.”

The Big screen then turned blue, and Breen’s face faded instantly. Then Dr. Gary spoke again.

“See what I mean”

“He’s out of touch with reality, or refuses to acknowledge it. These overlords only value human loyalty as long as it serves them,” Maron replied flatly.

“So did our former selves,” Gary replied defensively.

“That does not make them any better, it only amplifies their flaws,” Maron retorted, but his last words were drowned out by the blasted motor of his friend’s modified vehicle. The make was indiscernible, as it was heavily changed from the original model. But it gleamed a bright red, and the Lamba logo was branded on the driver’s door.

The Lamba symbol was associated with the catastrophic experiment that re-shaped the world, but also conveyed respect and authority. The metrocops around the dreary plaza kept a respectable distance from the vehicle, but Maron approached with a steady pace.

A large, black-skinned man nearly jumped out of the vehicle.

“Ben!,” Maron waved excitedly (for him, anyway) and slapped him on the back as he embraced him.

“It’s good to see you,” Maron said quietly.

“I’m sure I’ve looked better,” Ben replied with a flashing white smile.

“But the tan compliments you so well, how was your time in the east” Maron made an effort to keep his voice pleasant.

“Oh, it went good. Maybe a little too much. I’ve made some friends, and enemies, maybe even a few propositions. Just glad I’m back, it’s a little too hot over there for my tastes,” then Ben looked over at Dr. Gary, who nodded nonchalantly.

“Well, you can tell me all about the propositions on the way, we have a train to catch,” Maron broke the awkward silence. But from Ben’s look, the news was both good, bad, and hopelessly complicated.

 

[Max35]

Chapter 3:

Maron stared into the creature’s gaping red eye, lost in that crimson abyss, it was as if it were trying to tell him something.

Your profession becomes you.

I had no choice, Maron responded silently.

Cowardice has no reward, your numbness cannot hide you.

You are a slave like I am, you are imperfect, you can’t judge me!, Maron’s face turned briefly red with anger.

“Jack,” a voice spoke to him worriedly. “Jack, are you alright?,” This time the voice was more recognizable. Maron mentally shook himself free from the chained Vortigaut’s intangible pull.

“I’m sorry, got a little distracted,”Maron replied apathetically, still drained from the psychic connection.

“It’s alright, just wanted to let you know we’re almost there,” Ben declared.

Jack noticed Dr. Gary seated next to him, gazing out the window unseeingly, content with his mental blankness. Dr. Gary had been one of his few friends back in Black Mesa, and he had the disadvantage of personally seeing his friend fall from grace. He suffered a catastrophic loss, Black Mesa was his life, it was gone now. Nothing was there to console him. The doctor was old, alone in his thoughts, doomed to die in a world he no longer knew. Jack pitied him, but he then realized he pitied himself more.

Ben was the only one he envied. He was not ignorant, but knew how to live in the moment, be content with what was, and let the past fall into the withering hole of indifference. But Maron did not underestimate him, oh no. He had witnessed too many times when Ben had enough. Officers were beaten nearly to death, chairs and desks overthrown. APCs obliterated, all in the name of his fury.

One day, his anger would be so irreversible the whole world would tremble. But Maron tried not to dwell on it, but instead looked at his friend’s content, amiable face. With his friends surrounding him, in failure and comradery, he neglected the cold steel, tunnel-like cabins of the train. What was left of humanity was his only refuge from this alien, hostile world he so loathed.

The train ground to a halt, the engine hissing, and he stood up slowly. Holding tightly the handle of his briefcase, embossed with the Black Mesa logo (a constant reminder of that sad day) he walked toward the door, looking one last time at the Vortigaut, then turned and walked swiftly out of the train.

The quick change between a cold alien environment, to this derelict section of the city was astounding. Few buildings had survived, and most were only one story shanties. The run-down train station lay a few feet ahead of him, looking foreboding and defeated at the exact same time. The ground was dusty and barren under his feet as he walked, with Dr. Gary and Ben shuffling behind him.

Maron admired the tired blue painting the sky, along with flecks of pink clouds as the sun was beginning to set. A beautiful day, one he hoped he remembered, if only in scenery alone. The constant oppression of his species was efficiently omitted from his memory, one he would come to rely on later.

“I suppose its too late to sit down for some refreshments,” the doctor spoke almost hoarsely, his downtrodden tone smacking the back of Maron’s head.

“We’ll have plenty of time for that later, just be glad you’re not on those rations the civies eat,” Ben answered for him. Maron smiled to himself, and walked along. At the prospect of meeting an old friend at the train station, he smiled again. Smiling twice in one day, true bouts of happiness almost rotting in a sea of apathy. Perhaps this was a day worth salvaging.

 

[Max35]

Any comments on the last two chapters?

 

[Edcrab]

I like it!

Vortigaunt encounter, for example, was original and although I don't see any world-destroying plot developments as of yet I like where you're going with the characters. The descriptions (especially for people's mental states, like the "rotting in a sea of apathy" excerpt near the end) are especially good.

It's not a comment on the quality of your writing if you don't get any responses: the fic forum is pretty damn quiet nowadays. Don't let it put you off!

 

[Max35]

Thanks for the comments. Here's chapter 4

Chapter 4:

“It’s quite dim in here, and more than a little dingy. I hope we won’t linger here too long,” Dr. Gary complained.

“Do you have to complain about everything?,” Ben asked, exasperated.

“No, but it gives me some purpose,” Dr. Gary replied, a failed attempt at humor.

“I’m sure there are more fulfilling and much less annoying purposes out there,” Maron replied quietly.

Ben laughed loudly, but it was instantly swallowed by the bleak despair around them.

The three of them made their way past the small entrance hall, and into a room with a few rotting, wooden benches that seemed to wear the weight of time on the sunken seats. A few citizens wandered aimlessly, ignoring the invitation to sit, as if waiting aggravated their agony.

Maron headed for a an obscure entrance to a hallway just of the waiting area. He passed a few wooden doors until he came to the right one. He knocked lightly a few times. There were a few pounding noises, more than likely his friend’s audibly ample footsteps. The door swung open.

“Jack, my friend, where have you been!,” the man on the other side almost yelled at him. Mauri looked much older, and Maron was surprised for some reason. As if the he expected the oppression to slow the aging process.

“Been doing a little sightseeing, you could say,” Maron replied.

“Ah, ever the mysterious man of destruction,” the thick Russian accent creeped back into his voice.

“Not as mysterious as I’d like, anyway, sorry for the bad manners. These are my associates Ben Ferra, and Dr. Gary, the portable brain I’ve employed,” Maron gestured to them both, smiling.

“Yes, yes I remember them from long ago,” here Mauri’s expression grew serious. “What do you want?”

Maron was shocked at his blatant query, Mauri seemed to be content chatting away the hours, he was different now.

“Um, well, we need some transportation, a car actually ”.

“That Breen fellow have you on another mission?,” Mauri asked blandly.

“Yes, he’s still stupid enough to trust me,” Maron said.

“Ah,” Mauri gave a half-hearted smirk. “Let me take you down to the warehouse. We just received a new Hummer, from the West Coast if recall correctly”.

“Let’s get going,” Ben spoke up, a little impatient.

“I’m hardly looking forward to this,”

“Aren’t you looking for a little character redemption, Gary?” Maron asked.

“Too late for that,” Gary said in a low, ashamed voice.

The car storage warehouse was a few levels below the station. They strolled down tight, roughly hewn hallways, with nothing but the bare concrete to stimulate their eyes. Even though Maron had been to the warehouse many times, the sheer size always impressed him. What impressed him more was the fact that there weren’t enough cars to fill the expanse, most were destroyed. Mauri led them to the hummer, and handed Maron the keys.

“Happy hunting, friend. Now I must leave, farewell,” Mauri said and turned to leave. Maron didn’t mind the early leave taking, Mauri wasn’t the same amiable, talkative, tough Russian he had known. He wouldn’t miss this new transformation.

Maron handed the keys to Ben, “I don’t feel like driving”

“I see. It’s no problem,” Ben replied.

As they stepped into the Hummer, Maron felt in his pocket for his cigarettes. He hadn’t touched them in months, now he was in need of them. Dr. Breen had a private reserve of almost any product he wanted of the former human regime.

He lit one up, and let the smoke fill his lungs, while the roar of the engine calmed him. He felt better instantly, and suddenly the loss of an old friend didn’t mean that much to him anymore. What did it mean in the end really?, he didn’t know, and didn’t mind the lack of an answer. They then speed away without a word passing between them.

 

[Max35]

Chapter 5:

Maron felt god-like as the Hummer sped through the streets of City 17, which was heading towards the Eastern section of the city. The citizens, in their blue jumpsuits, looked at him in envy, and he felt a small separation between himself and them. It was mentally empowering, for a moment.

The streets were wide and unnaturally clean. Sparkling in the bright sunlight as if an army of mentally deranged janitors had just cleaned them that morning. Maron laughed at the concept, maybe he was becoming a little unhinged, what an odd thought. He lit another cigarette to calm his nerves, he was quickly becoming addicted to them again.

No one spoke until they pulled in slowly to their destination, the large tunnel entrance into the eastern sewer line. Just beyond it was a contingent of Combine soldiers, guns glistening in the sun, their eyes dark abysses. The three stepped out of the car, not too eager to greet them.

One man stood among them, wearing a brown sweater and collared shirt, with thick black glasses that accentuated his awkward appearance. Wayne Ervil, he thought. I couldn’t find a bigger banana head on earth if I tried.

“Hello Wayne, are you hear for the customary browbeating required by Breen?,” Maron greeted.

“Why no, and there is no need for such hostility, I’ve been sent here to protect the operation and make sure nothing goes wrong.

“You in particular will protect us,” Maron asked mockingly.

“Well, not exactly, I’m here to oversee the protection allotted to you,” Wayne declared, a little offended.

“That clears things up, I guess. Let’s move things along. Do you have the schematics of the area?,” Maron enquired.

“Of course, right here in my briefcase. You can study them at your leisure,” Wayne offered.

“That’s alright, I prefer a hands-on approach. I’d like to see what I’m up against first”.

Maron grabbed the papers eagerly, and headed towards the tunnel entrance, motioning for the soldiers to follow him.

“Wait,” a deep voice piped up, it was Ben. “Shouldn’t we arm ourselves, in case any accidents should happen?”.

Wayne’s small voice gave an amusing reply “Is that really necessary, that’s what I–I mean, the soldiers are here for,”.

Ben flew into one of his episodes, but Maron just shook his head and went further into the tunnel, ignoring the arguing vocals outside. The soldiers’ heels sloshed softly against the murky water, and the constant sound was lulling.

Moss covered the ancient tunnels, and the brown stains of age gave the corridors a derelict appearance. The further they went in, the more the tunnels opened up, the lighting seemed to improve. Maron didn’t mind the darkness, though.

All of a sudden he heard scuttling. Antlions, he thought. In the middle of that thought, giant yellow bugs flew out at him. But they were met with the precise bullets of the soldiers standing next to him. An acidic like substance flew everywhere, and Maron brushed it off hurriedly.

He continued to explore the tunnels, getting a good layout of the area, while being attacked by aggressive packs of antlions. Ben had caught up with them, holding an Overwatch rifle in his big hands.

They were coming to a fork in the tunnels, when he heard another sound. It was different from the ones the Antlions made. It was more of a shuffle. “Hold your fire,” Maron ordered quietly. A shocking picture emerged from the left tunnel.

A curly-haired teen (Maron guessed around thirteen years old) stepped cautiously out into the intersection. Maron gasped, and the boy ran off, with Maron right on his heels.

 

[Sloth]

sorry i didn't spot it sooner!

Very good work... Worth every paragraph

Did you have something up on Fiction Press? An Original? I started reading it i think, but lost it...

 

[Max35]

I appreciate the comments evilsloth. And no, I didn't have anything on Fiction Press (atleast I don't recall....).

 

[Sloth]

Don't worry then...
Looking forward to more stuff!

 

[Max35]

Chapter 5:

“Hey, stop!”, Maron yelled. “Damn kid,” he swore under his breath as the boy rounded a corner, then fell over a slight inconsistency in the floor. Maron picked himself up slowly, cursing at the refuse that now covered his Italian suit.

As he began to stand up, he came face to face with the boy, “You!,” he rasped and grabbed the boy’s wrist tightly before he could run again. The boy’s prominent features shook in fear.

“Why did you run?,” Maron asked calmly, surprised at the evenness of his voice, and the stupidness of the question.

“The soldiers you were with, I thought they were after me, I wasn’t going to stay and get killed” the boy answered boldly.

“If those soldiers were after you, you’d be dead, and this conversation would be impossible,” Maron replied arrogantly.

“What else should I have done, given the situation?,” the boy responded stubbornly. Maron was surprised at the lucid response.

All of a sudden Maron heard the constant splashing of his soldier’s boots, making their way closer at superhuman speed, and then they were surrounded almost instantly.

“Hold your fire men, if your efficient minds value a continued existence, you will stand down,”. Maron heard the meek clanking of the soldier’s guns being lowered.

“Alright, now that things are under control....I want this boy surrounded at all times, he is to be protected with your lives, a worthy sacrifice I think. Let’s make our way back to the surface, I’ve had enough sewer spelunking for one day,” Maron ordered and the military detachment slowly escorted their charges toward the surface.

As they were walking along the tunnels Maron asked “What’s your name?,”.

The boy replied “I don’t have one.”

“Well, then, you must have one soon. If a man is going to have a sufficient legacy, he needs a name attached to it,” Maron explained vaguely.

“I’d rather not have a legacy to be ashamed of,” the boy replied.

“Still, a name is an important thing. I’ll make sure your not greeted as serial code,” Maron said and passed out into the brilliant sun.

“What is...this?,” Wayne pointed disgustedly at the child.

“A new, untainted seed. To be more exact, it’s none of your business. Now, I’ve just had a very rough day exploring these damned sewers, show me where my room is so I can have some peace,” Maron replied roughly, he was in no mood for diplomacy.

Wayne pointed up to the grotesquely tall building, that seemed to lean slightly to the left, or maybe it was just Maron’s imagination. “You’ll be staying in there, the soldiers will show you where your room is.”

Maron nodded, and walked with Ben into the building, which seemed to have once been a hotel. The front desk stood empty as they entered, as it had for over ten years. The soldiers escorted them to the third floor, and into a large, two room suite. Ben departed for his own.

“Make yourself comfortable, as comfortable as you can be, anyway,” Maron offered tonelessly.

“I’m hungry,” the boy declared irritably.

“Well, of course you are. There is a refrigerator-like device over there near the sink. I hope you like relic food. Try to think of cryogenic-suspension, except for food.

The kid smiled sheepishly, and approached it slowly. Maron turned his back to the rummaging noises. When he turned around again, he was surprised to see the platter had the traditional fast food smorgasbord set upon it.

“Dr. Breen’s private reserve has a lot of interesting items from the past, make the most of it while it remains”

The boy sat at the table and ate, and Maron began to pace. The urchin must have a name, it crept into his thoughts and now sieged them with obsession. Why was naming this boy so important, he just knew it had to be done.