Freedom, page 8
part #3 of Mystical Slayers Series
***
Word was relayed to Mayor Warns at the Capitol. He was already rushing down the hallway as pissed off as could be. He screamed at the top of his lungs, “An attack on that stupid 16th President Lincoln’s Memorial! What the… Friggin send more troops to that place. We have to stop this madness!”
***
Meanwhile, the gladiator and her crew had already reached and battled their way through and inside the pink marble building, passing by its eleven front pillars. Inside stood a twenty-foot-tall seated statue of President Lincoln himself.
Mahira called to her team, “How are you all doing? I imagine more defenders will come soon. Let’s use this as a base and take advantage of them probably being told not to damage the structure.” The troops nodded to her command and logic.
The overall building itself was close to two hundred feet wide and two hundred feet tall. All rested and reloaded for a bit.
***
Now at the Jefferson Memorial, he who was one of the founding fathers of America and one of the writers of the Declaration of Independence, Chaya and her rebel force won a small foot skirmish outside and eventually got in as well.
It was a 129-foot-tall building and inside, a beautiful bronze statue, a twenty-foot-tall one of Thomas Jefferson, resided. All these still-standing, ancient things here were marvels to behold. Chaya’s crew now rested and reloaded, preparing for more battles to come.
Chapter Twelve
Meanwhile, the mayor still had heard nothing from the Corporation’s main leaders. For some odd reason, it appeared as if Aaron Steele was really in charge, and the little twerp was offering hardly anything to help defend Washington. Wesley Warns yelled to anyone who would listen. “We’re under attack! Under attack!”
The mayor quickly again had Steele on conference call. “Aaron, we need your help,” he insisted. “We’re under attack. They’re coming from all areas and soon, I’m sure they’ll come to the Capitol. The Corporation is going to lose everything here in Washington, and I know President Purcell would be furious at that very thought. By the way, where the hell is he?”
The nerdy Steele, now the boss for at least a little time, answered the mayor’s plea, “It’s almost midnight. What do you expect for me to do? I will send some flyers there as soon as possible. I have no other authority to do much else. President Purcell, Galax, and Omagus are nowhere to be found. I don’t even know where they are.”
The mayor became irate. “What the fuck? You don’t know where any of the leaders of the Corporation are? We have the most important city they govern under attack for friggin sake. This is ridiculous.”
There was a pause of just dead silence over the airways. The president’s assistant/acting head of Y-Wood meekly said, “I am sorry. There’s not much else I can do.”
The mayor yelled at his communication phone, “I’m going to take every ounce of resources I have out of the Pentagon and fight off these bastards. You have to find someone over there that’s going to send more help and give a shit, or we’re going to lose this war!”
Aaron had already hung up his phone.
The mayor was steaming as he walked over to Blue Eyes and pointed at him, “Stay by my side no matter what. We’re under attack and all vicinities surrounding this place are as well. I’m sure they’re going to come here next. We’re going to be under siege.”
He was now breathing heavily, and being so out of shape, now thought he might suffer a heart attack. “Protect me at all cost, and no one else. Anyone who tries to do harm to me, destroy them.”
The strong, powerful, mega-expensive, devil-horned, silver robot nodded to his master. “I understand, sir.”
The mayor shouted out, “You would think living under a 750-foot-long, 355-foot-tall place with five hundred rooms, crowned by a white dome top, with a massive friggin statue that weighs close to fifteen thousand pounds and is twenty feet tall, representing freedom, would be a place to be safe… well, fuck no! Send out word. Have all the robots here join up and surround the Capitol. If these rebel allies want a fight, we will give it to them. Bring it on, you suckers!”
***
Down the hall from Mr. Steele was Chancellor Tessa Zune’s office. She had been around for quite a long time regarding the Corporation. Her family was from Boston and fairly well to do. The Corporation used them for many of the electronic parts in the early days of then President Arn Marcou’s rein.
One day, the president at the time discovered her family was skimming, stealing money from Y-Wood, and on the day of their judgement, they denied everything. Marcou threatened to kill the young dark-haired Tessa back then, the prized daughter of the family, if they didn’t come clean. Yet, they still lied. He had her entire family shot. She was the only one spared.
Tessa wanted to rebel, to hate and to lash out, yet her family was always wealthy and had the finer things in life. Compared to most nowadays, any such hatred would lead her away from such higher standards. So, she kept it all in.
President Marcou eventually offered her a position as a secretary, explaining she could still live well, and for her troubles, he wanted her to succeed in life. So she took the position, but since never forgot.
Soon, young Tessa realized just how much a big womanizer, full of ego and prideful type of guy this president was. Everything always had to go his way, and he looked at women as pawns, just pieces of meat. She saw before her as the years went by, the entire plan slowly coming out as to the artificial intelligent entity he hid in his back offices. She knew more than all realized.
The goal was to eliminate the male species. A fourth changing war was at hand.
And in time, without saying anything, she knew why. It was all because of his ego, his huge head, and those of his associates from around the country, to the world for that matter. If there were very few male children being born in the world, the male race would slowly die out. Only Marcou and his elite human associates, his boys club of sick men, would be left.
They would have all the wealth and power, plus all women would have no choice but to seek to be in the arms of these elder statesmen, these Corporation big wigs. The creation of life was to be through them if such a plan succeeded.
It all came to her one day when she realized the artificial intelligence in the back room was playing this ego-driven man at his own game. If he followed her wishes, he referred to such as her, soon the human race would be lost. She would be the only winner. But before much else came in to play, the hard-core sisterhood had meddled with it all. They had actually done the world a favor, she thought today.
She found it disgusting that any human would kill another human for the sake of their own ego. Furthermore, she delved a little in her old family’s ways by skimming a bit privately from the rich Y-Wood Corporation. No one ever noticed. With such extra funds, she went about a few changes of her own through the years.
She had more hair transplanted, lengthening to be a bright, permanent-blonde color, and she also enhanced her breasts to be a very firm and voluptuous 34DD. Later, she went about creating bigger and fuller lips as well.
In her position, she could eat the best of health foods and hire top-notch robotic personal trainers. At her age, a 10% body fat ratio was very impressive, if not a bit over-thin.
She lived a decent life aside from the bullying of Corporation men. At times, those higher up were used via her own charms to gain leverage in the company. She perhaps had joined in a thousand sexual affairs, caring little if it was a male, female, human or not. Tessa Zune loved sex, and that was the bottom line.
She had endured the old president and all his male chauvinist associates, but it got sickening after a while. Purcell wasn’t as bad, at least now, she thought, coming back to present time. With this new president, whom she had an affair with as well, things were a little different, if not tolerable.
He didn’t care so much about females, He liked them, but he was more old-school and cared about war and power, still with lots of testosterone pride. Today, behind closed doors, Tessa dropped the image of Purcell and went about developing a plan of her own to make former America a better place. She meant well, she really did.
Someday, she hoped her voice would be heard. She was getting older, yet through the technological advances in aging, she was still going strong. She always had work to do and went at it hard even today. But in the back of her mind, she always hoped she could be more than just a secretary or as they called her just in name, a “Chancellor’ that which meant nothing but sounded important for all the years she had been with Y-Wood.
But she’d had enough work for now and headed to play and as she often called, “staying young.”
Tessa joined minutes later with her personal robotic trainer, whom she called super stud, a robot highly advanced in physical activity, nutrition, health, and exercise. He had her working up a sweat. This bot looked like a real true, sexy human man. He had dark hair, sideburns, super-cut muscles, and perfect, fake-tanned skin.
“That’s it,” he called out in her ear. “Squat up, squat down, squat up, squat down; if you want to keep a firm butt you have to squat up, and squat down.”
Tessa did as he said, up and down, over and over in the fight to stay youthful and in shape.
It was on to lunges. The super stud robotic trainer kept motivating his client, calling out, “That’s right, down deep, and step, down deep and step. If you want to have great legs, you got to work. Down deep, and step; that a girl.”
When it came to her arm workout, he brought her over to the weight system which was an advanced air-based gym machine, one where the exact amount of pressure could be balanced for her body type for maximum results. He got her lifting her arms up and down, working on the underside of the weakest part of a woman’s arms.
All this talk was starting to get her a little bit hot and bothered. She knew what the super stud had between his legs―a massive, strong, bionic cock. One she had enjoyed several times.
As the session ended, she had but one thing on her mind.
Tessa made way to the open shower stall, stripping off what little clothes she had on. For an older woman, she had a nice body. It was hard worked, and it showed.
She sprayed water about her and lathered soap openly in all areas of her body as the robot trainer watched her. She walked out of the shower, her blonde hair wet and draped back over her shoulders. With a large smile, she announced, “And now for my final workout!”
Super stud wasted no time in obeying her wishes. He took the Chancellor in his arms and showed the sixty-something-year-old what it was like to have two hours of non-stop foreplay, and robotic-enhanced wild sex.
Afterward, Tessa stood bow-legged, needing a shower all over again. She could hardly walk but made it over and soaked her body once more. “Oh my, I needed this. Oh my, the water is so refreshing! I think the second workout was harder than the first. Oh my, and I think I liked the second workout a whole lot better.”
***
Aaron Steele adjusted his small, round glasses and looked about his office. The last thing he would do is send all their soldiers and flyers to Washington and leave the company’s home unguarded.
He was used to answering the higher ups here and with no one about, he was a bit off centered. He walked out into the hallway and ran into Della Winstrip, the new vice president. He expected her to claim leadership with all the crap that was happening, yet she just said hello, offering no other reply.
So he stopped to talk to her, “You wouldn’t believe it, but Washington is again under attack and begging for our help. The rebel allies are all there sieging the place. What do you think, should we send all our powerful army there or better play it safe and guard our own central location?”
Della hesitated, and answered him. “Well, I am no combat leader, Aaron, but without authority from President Purcell, I wouldn’t send help.”
Aaron nodded in agreement. “Exactly.” He ran his hand over his brow, wiping away the nervous sweat. “I’ll send some drones over, and they can blast the enemy. Yeah, I’ll at least do that.”
Della nodded, adding, “Better to watch over us mostly now. I agree, you’re making the right decision here.”
Aaron liked this new girl. She was cute, had a tight little body too. Plus, she agreed with him. He liked her even better for that, yet he heard a bit of a sarcastic tone to her words. He walked further down the hall then spun. “Della, I just wanted to say you’re doing a great job so far.” He figured a little sucking up would work in his favor when he got enough nerve to ask her on a lunch date someday soon.
Della smiled, before turning and leaving the Y-Wood offices to her street contact, he who relayed the info that the Corporation would be sending little help to D. C. All the while, she thought of the look the puppet Aaron Steele gave her, a stare examining her body. “Yuck,” was all she could say. “Yuck, yuck, yuck!”
***
The National Cathedral Building looked like something built out of the Middle Ages. It was close to three hundred feet tall and had a very gothic appearance. The exterior was covered in stained-glass windows and at one time, the whole structure was one of the biggest cathedrals in the world. It was made out of an Indian gray limestone, yet unlit this evening and left vacant for years.
Jerry Bends had met here earlier with General Karl Nic.
The main floor was a massive church with various alcoves where the ally people set up different equipment and a central area for communication and meetings.
There were more floors down below with private chapels in different areas. Here, people could also get as much sleep as possible when called for.
The allied general received word that both the main monument buildings were now taken, and allied forces were on the inside. However, it was expected that both were soon to be assaulted by soldiers under the mayor’s control. Air combat was still going on as well.
The Capitol was now surrounded by soldiers set on protecting it at all cost, but the secret passage train station tunnel underneath was still a great option.
This was why Raegan and the general had been sent on route hours before. At the moment, Jerry thought back, alone now, on her talk with Karl Nic. He had asked her what the ultimate goal would be if everything worked out as planned.
She recalled her reply, “Everyone looking from the outside will see that we seriously mean business and that the world is changing. More and more people will turn to the side of the allied troops. In time, we will elect a real president and form a democracy and make Washington its center.”
The general had of course asked, “What do you think the Corporation will do if this happens?” It was a great question. One she didn’t know the exact answer. The general had left such a thought unanswered, yet he had stated, “This won’t be easy!”
Jerry Bends again thought back to her answer. “Nothing great in life happens easy.” All alone now, she hoped for the best.
Jerry found a little space of her own for a few minutes. Lately, she was bombarded with people. She squeezed her temples in lieu of being overwhelmed with thought. “I’ve been through so much,” she muttered, shaking her head.
A woman who was part of a returning rebel scouting party interrupted her thoughts. “We lost another flyer, Mrs. Bends. Shot down by a drone.”
Jerry shook her head at the news. “Okay, thanks for the update.”
She rolled her wheelchair to the corner of the room facing the wall. Her head sunk down. She was looking for peace, just a moment’s worth. This fight in essence for her had lasted a lifetime. She had given every ounce of her being to try to make the country a better place to live.
Life expectancy nowadays was about one hundred and thirty years if one was filthy rich. For her, she might make it to eighty-five. Regardless, she found hope deep inside; she always did. The woman was a fighter, wheelchair ridden or not. She spun her chair about and rolled back outside. She had work to do. They would win, and times would change. There was no other outcome she would accept.
The fire was back in her eyes as she spoke out in defiance, “Maybe I’ll get to ninety. Yeah, possibly one-hundred. I can make that.”
Chapter Thirteen
Mahira now had her axe, rightly named Free, in hand. He spoke to her as they had fought their way into the Lincoln Memorial and now as they settled inside, preparing to defend the location.
“This place is going to take a beating anyway you look at it. But I’m guessing they won’t blow it up or try to bash through the back side. We have to defend the front most, and we have the higher ground so that is to our advantage. It looks as though it will be mostly robots attacking. I sense more coming up the stairs now; have the front-line soldiers blast them.”
The gladiator cracked a smile. “Are you a know it all?” She relayed the message to those out front, hiding behind the inside walls. “I imagine Tyne programed you to think you know everything, probably just to irritate me.”
Free answered, “Not at all, Miss Mahira.”
Now the strawberry-blonde woman sighed. “Don’t call me Miss. Please just use my regular name.”
Free carried on, “So far, it appears that these robots are made under the classic guise of old science fiction movies; so much for originality. That’s probably a good thing because we won’t have to deal with any of them being sexy and human appearing, and you wanting to have an affair with them.”
Mahira, surprised, suddenly lifted the axe’s robot face in front of her. “What is that supposed to mean? Now I’m thinking she made you a wise ass too!”
Free’s blue eyes blinked twice. “Well, according to my informational data, you seem to always enjoy fighting but are always looking for a little rendezvous, as they say, when time permits after such combat.”
