Dale the Whale was at a press conference with 400 live streamers. Cigarette smoke swirled in the ambient lights, creating light rays through the clouds. The moist fog that mixed with the harsh smoke made breathing hard. Dale, six feet seven inches tall and 300 pounds of muscle, towered over everyone. He wore a suit, and his agent was next to him.
Dale tapped on his microphone. “Brinus is a cheater! I don’t care what anyone says! He used stimulants to win his match!”
A press member raised her hand, and the agent called on her. “Is it true that your parents died recently from smoking-related lung problems, and you blame the Army Troopers for your parents' deaths because they didn’t cover their treatment costs?”
Dale the Whale stood and screamed, knocking over his chair, “That doesn’t have a damn thing to do with this situation! Brinus is a cheater! End of story!”
Two streamers looked at each other and grinned. One of them raised their hand, and the agent called one of them. “What is your opinion of the Confederate VA denying your parents their healthcare because they developed a smoking-related disease?”
Dale slapped the table with his bare hands and screamed, “This has nothing to do with the topic! Why are we discussing this?”
The other streamer inquired with a smile, “What is your opinion on the Army Troopers' failure to cover your parents' insurance? Do you feel they let you down?”
Dale grabbed his microphone and put it directly in front of his mouth. “THE ARMY KILLED MY PARENTS! NOT THE CIGARETTES THEY SMOKED! FUCK THE ARMY!”
All of the streamer’s mods clipped this rant, and it went viral within seconds.
The room went silent for a moment, and then someone in the front asked, “Are you projecting your feelings onto Brinus by making up cheating accusations because he managed to quit smoking and your parents couldn’t?”
“FUCK THIS SHIT I’M OUT!”
Dale knocked over his chair, threw the microphone onto the floor, and created earsplitting feedback, which caused everyone to react, drop their cameras, and cover their ears. He then stormed out of the room.
Two streamers in the back talked as everyone filed out one by one. “Damn, that was intense. I’m gonna have my mod team look on the internet at his comment history.”
The other streamer smiled, “I wonder what his Rattle looks like?”
Rattle is a website similar to the old Earth website Twitter, where you rattle your saber at people. It was known for being a cesspool.
A third streamer chimed in. “I’m gonna have my mods look at his texting history! I bet we can find something we can take out of context. The ratings will be good this week! Thank the spirits! It’s been slow since the war ended!”
Keep in mind the streamers are still live-streaming all of this as the comments poured in.
Dale ran into Brinus outside of one of the smaller press conference rooms. Brinus smiled, shook his wet hair, and offered his hand. Dale spat Tarken Tea juice at Brinus’s feet and then turned his nose in the air. He walked away, cursing Brinus’s name.
Brinus walked into the room and saw that he had one of the smaller rooms. There were only ten streamers, and the conference lasted only five minutes as they asked cookie-cutter questions and then left. It wasn’t at all a comprehensive interview, and it left Brinus feeling invalidated. He fought and sweated and won, and was hardly recognized for it.
Brinus turned to his agent after they left. “That was weird. Wonder what the big deal was?”
Mrs. Truelove pulled up her TriQuarter and showed Brinus the Meltdown.
“Damn! He’s got a bug up his ass!” Brinus laughed and then handed Mrs. Truelove’s TriQuarter back to her.
Mrs. Truelove shook her head and sighed, “I bet the organization will have a few words with him. Grieving is okay, but turning it into a public display of toddlery is not.”
Brinus laughed as they headed to the men’s locker room. “I gotta get ready. My husband and I are takin’ Akmal to a restaurant tomorrow. He’s never eaten out before, and the Victory is gettin’ routine maintenance, so we want to take him out for a treat.”
Akmal, Brinus, and Simmie sat at a table in the smoking section at a Collotti Federation Food restaurant the next day. Akmal had a fried space chicken dish smothered in red Collotti pepper sauce with steamed red rice and a glass of whole milk. Collotti peppers often had a smoother flavor than Confederate peppers and had a slight burn to them. The outdoor patio was busy with every seat filled and the soft chatter of over a hundred people.
The waiter refilled Akmal’s drink and then addressed Brinus, “Your friend really likes the chicken. Most people here can’t handle it that hot.”
Brinus smiled. “Yeah, I guess he likes spicy foods. This is his first time eating out. Y’all are from the Federation?”
The waiter began refilling all of the other drinks. “Yep, we moved here and opened this restaurant after the war ended. I like not having to work for tips. People got so entitled about it towards the end.” The waiter set down their drinks. “Here you go, that’s three colas and one water without lemon.”
Akmal dipped the chicken into the honey pepper sauce. “Aren’t you going to a hospital?”
Brinus laughed and smiled again. “Yeah, after lunch I’m visitin’ a sick kid in the hospital. Someone requested me through my agent. I thought, why not?”
“Can I go?” asked Akmal, finishing his chicken and putting a cigarette in his mouth.
Brinus shook his head and reached across the table to light it with magic. “No, he’s dyin’ from a rare disease and his parents aren’t military or civic workers, so they don’t have the money or insurance for treatment.”
The manager came out to see the naval officers. He was a pale-skinned human in a black suit and tie with shiny black shoes. He saw the three uniformed servicemembers and approached them.
“My waiter told me you’re enjoying the chicken. My Name is Rangoon Calsori. Your name is Akmal Enlance? You, Brinus Helios? And you, Simmie Tiggs? I see your nametags. Brinus Helios? Your name sounds familiar, and I feel like I have seen your face, but I don’t remember where. What do you think of the egg rolls, Brinus?”
Brinus gave a thumbs up as he dipped them in the pepper sauce and took a large bite.
Rangoon chuckled and then smiled, “And you, Simmie, what do you think of the Cream Cheese Rolls?”
Simmie moaned with pleasure, which masked the irritation he had with how waiters and staff always reserved the uncanny ability to ask questions when you had a face full of food.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“I am so happy! Thank you for liberating my people. The Federation began to spiral ten years before the war, but died as the war ended. What ship did you serve on?”
Brinus said through his full mouth. “The victory. I start grad school in a month. I'm in command of the workshop. Simmie is the chief robotics officer. Akmal has a unique position on the ship, and he's takin' a day to spend with us.”
Rangoon slapped Akmal’s shoulder with a huge smile. “Did you read the fine print on the menu?”
Brinus shook his head.
Rangoon put a hand on Brinus’s shoulder. “Commissioned Military Officers and officer cadets eat free. Your meal is on the house! Enjoy. Again, thank you for your service and for liberating my people!”
Rangoon walked away humming.
Brinus dipped another egg roll in the pepper sauce. “Wow, the feds must’ve hated their government.”
Akmal finished his chicken and burped. “You have no idea how bad things were in the Federation. Especially towards the end.”
Meanwhile, across the metropolis—
20 streamers swarmed Dale the Whale after his meltdown. As the streamers pelted him with questions, he walked down the street as he shook with anger, and balled up his fists, cursing under his breath. The questions were about some posts that recently surfaced on a website called 8-Nanai. There were disparaging comments about women and disabled people. Strangers on the sidewalk had their comms devices recording everything as they laughed and pointed at the scene.
He turned around to the spectacle and screamed, “Don’t you guys have something better to do?” He gave the paparazzi the middle finger and ran into the street to escape them. He nearly missed a dozen self-driving cars, and all of it was caught on camera.
The AI dispatched the police and four ambulances, which would arrive in five minutes. The gaggle of reporters ran into the street, and immediately two cars stopped in the road, causing a fifth car to rear-end the two in front and T-bone another car. The AI detected an accident and shut down all cars on the street, causing two more cars to collide. The reporters ran after Dale the Whale as more police arrived to quarantine the area. Suddenly, two of the cars burst into flames, and the AI called the fire department.
The multicar pile-up made news almost immediately as it took a few minutes for the clips and highlights to be passed around. A local sheriff set up a press conference site outside the quarantine zone.
Over the next 30 minutes, 400 streamers filed into the press conference zone as police flooded the area and began searching for Dale the Whale.
The sheriff came to the podium. He was an elderly man with straight gray hair and brown skin. He had a slight foreign accent from the Vendalfi Federation.
He cleared his throat and began to speak. “We are looking for Thomas Dale Anderson, otherwise known as Dale the Whale. He is wanted by our sheriff’s department for various crimes and for making hateful comments online. Any information leading to his capture will result in a 100,000 credit reward. He is considered extremely dangerous and should not be approached. Call 911 immediately and let us handle it. Any Questions?”
A reporter in the back asked, “How did all of this start?”
The sheriff sighed, looked down, and looked back up. “We believe he falsely accused Brinus Helios or Woodstack Helios of cheating. The AI has verified, with the help of the Kobchi Organization, that his prescription for the medication is legitimate. As this case is now an open investigation, I cannot give more information, especially since it involves privileged medical information. Next question.”
A reporter in the center row raised her hand, and the sheriff called on her. She asked, “Is Dale the Whale going to target Woodstack Helios at the hospital where he is visiting the kids?”
“Our civic AI is calculating all possibilities and submitting them to our officers’ TriQuarters in real-time. Our deputies are highly trained and can deal with this type of situation. We have time for one more question.”
A reporter in the back raised her hand, and the sheriff called on her. “Yesterday, it came to light that his parents died because of a Tarken Tea-related disease and that the Army denied his insurance claim for a procedure that would have saved their lives. Is this true?”
The sheriff sighed into the microphone and then put his hands on the podium. “I can not confirm nor deny the motives of this suspect at the current time. What is clear is the threat to His Grace’s Helios, which we are taking very seriously. Good day, that's all. Food and toilets will be here in half an hour. We expect this will be a long night.”
The sheriff left the podium, and everyone began to mill around.
Brinus noticed a sudden influx of undercover cops and magi following them. A homeless woman pushed a cart of cans and constantly checked her TriQuarter. The window cleaner on the third floor of a two-hundred-story building cleaned the same spot over and over again, frequently checking his phone. Brinus saw the flash of a sniper scope in an abandoned apartment on the fifth floor. Also, police patrols were suddenly much more frequent down the tree-lined street. Every ten minutes, a cop car would come down the street, circle back, and then leave the downtown area.
Thought Brinus, looking around at the unsettling scene.
He turned to Akmal and Simmie. “I think we’re being watched.”
“Quit being so paranoid!” Laughed Simmie, wrapping his arm around Brinus’s shoulder.
Akmal ruffled Brinus's hair and chuckled. “Yeah, bro, relax! Stop reading those clickbait sites!”
thought Brinus.
He guided his family into a classical game store on the pretense that Akmal could pick out a retro game. Brinus saw two undercover cops pretending to look at some old-fashioned controls but frequently looking at them and whispering into their sleeves.
Thought Brinus as he looked at the two cops.
Finally, he went up to them and cleared his throat. “Why are you watching us?”
The two cops looked at each other. “We’re just shopping. Leave us alone,” stated one of the officers.
Brinus flashed his screw-you smile and blocked the two officers. “What the fuck is going on and why are the police so interested in me suddenly.”
The two cops looked at each other again with worried looks and then sighed, “Alright,” they both flashed their badges. One was named Officer Ramirez, and the other was named Sergeant Concora. “We were told to keep an eye on you because you’re a duke and there is a felon out on the run who wants to kill or harm you. We have a kill on-site order.”
Brinus rolled his eyes and snorted through his nose, “Do you know how many death threats I get every day? I get at least five calls an hour telling me they will kill me or to go kill myself. What makes this one any different?”
“It’s Dale the Whale. He says he wants to kill you, and he's on his way. This one’s a bit more serious than some random screen name who’s throwing hate at you.”
Dale the Whale was out of dip as he pulled out his can. He’d been out of dip for a couple of hours and his hands shook, he felt his stomach do somersaults, and he had a piercing migraine. Dale looked around, he was in an alleyway between two shops lined with trash and dumpsters. Four cop cars pulled out at opposite ends of the alley as he analyzed his surroundings.
The cops came, “Sally said he was in this alley,” said one of the cops.
“Remember, shoot on site. He is not to be taken alive,” said the sergeant.
The cops flooded the alley as Dale burst into a kitchen, followed by eight policemen. One of the officers yelled at the kitchen staff, “Help us!”
Two dishwashers pushed Dale against the wall, and a cop pointed his pistol at him, but it jammed. Then the officers began floating into the air.
The two dishwashers holding him began floating as well. The chef pointed his knife at Dale, “What the fuck are you doing?! Stop it!”
“I can’t! I don’t know how!”
Dale ran out of the kitchen. He thought as his hands shook from withdrawal.
Suddenly, the cop cars began floating in midair and crumpled into a ball, exploding in flames. Then Dale realized it was what he was thinking. This was the longest he’d been without snuff since he was nine, and he always heard Tarken Tea suppressed magic.
Dale pointed his hand at a dumpster, and it floated and then crumpled into a ball. He smiled as he thought,
The sheriff watched on the AI camera as Dale destroyed eight cop cars and neutralized ten people without even breaking a sweat, just with his thoughts. Everyone was stunned into silence as the computer terminals hummed in the smoky room.
“Call the Magi,” said the sheriff after a moment of silence, “Tell them we have a code 10. Pull up Brinus Helios’s psychological profile.”
A picture of Brinus in his uniform with his service number under it appeared on the computer screen. It had his personality traits, write-ups, discipline records, and psychologist notes. However, the sheriff was interested in the summary in particular.
It read as follows:
One of the dispatchers whistles.
“Call off the search and consolidate at the hospital. Change of orders. Take Dale alive and bring him to the Magi.”
The dispatchers relayed the orders. It was now game on.
