Quadrant: Pacific Time.
Sector: 45.
Civilian Center: 451.
District: Residential.
1835 hours.
“So, then the Incomp said, ‘City-man wrong, wrong, wrong!’ And that is when Eos deployed the EMP, thereby activating the bomb inside of him … and, well, he was liquidated.”
Pausing, Gunnar looked over the Invisi-Plane dinner table at his wife, his parents, and his grandparents. Three generations of Rourkes. Three generations of PRO-T-EN men and women. All of them comfortable in ErgoNaut RelaXation Chairs. Enjoying a fresh Savoree dinner in Gunnar and Daphne’s modest condominium.
Three meters behind Gunnar, Vesta stood alert and silent, awaiting any command.
“Damn fine story, Son,” Colonel James Rourke—Department: Asset Protection, Job Title: Administrator—said with an air of pride.
“Yes, Gunnar,” General Thaddeus Rourke—Department: Asset Protection, Job Title: Chief Administrator—said with a twinkle in his eye. “You served your Corporation well. Of course, in my day we did not call them Un-Civs or Incomps, we just called them scum. But I suppose it is best that you modern day warriors are held to higher standards.”
“Thank you, Father.” Gunnar nodded toward James. Though beginning to show his age, the rugged colonel still looked ready to tangle with the roughest of the rough in the wastelands.
Then Gunnar turned to Thaddeus. Even at seventy-five years old, the elder Rourke had the chiseled countenance of a leader; handsome features which he’d passed down to both James and Gunnar. “Thank you, Grandfather. A PRO-T-EN Man is all I ever want to be.”
Thaddeus and James both smiled at Gunnar. All three Rourke men had worn dark gray FlexForm polo shirts and slacks for the occasion, golden Ts gleaming on each breast pocket.
“I am just so proud of you, darling,” said Daphne. “Day after day, you put your life on the line for your Corporation, with no thought for yourself.”
Gunnar smiled at Daphne. She still looked as beautiful as the day he’d met her. Her hair hung long and straight and layered down to the bustline of her white FlexForm evening dress, with a new platinum blonde sheen which glowed in the soft light. “Thank you, darling.”
“You know,” said Gunnar’s grandmother, Camille—Department: Public Education, Job Title: Administrator—with a heavy sigh, “I think it is ghastly, what goes on in those Corporate Zones. Filthy creatures, living in such horrid conditions.”
Gunnar nodded to Camille. Even at seventy-two, the matron Rourke still looked young and vital; a real tribute to PRO-T-EN rejuvenation treatments. She wore a light blue FlexForm sweater and matching slacks. Her inky black hair had been styled into a French twist.
“And so bloodthirsty,” Gunnar’s mother, Anna—Department: Public Utilities, Job Title: Manager—agreed. “They live only for destruction.”
Gunnar nodded to Anna. His mother held a special place in his heart. Thanks to the same rejuvenation treatments that his grandmother used, Anna still looked like she belonged to Gunnar and Daphne’s generation. She wore a black FlexForm evening dress which looked both elegant and festive. Her dark auburn hair had been cut chin-length, and she sported a jaunty, tousled style.
“I have spent a lifetime hunting them down,” Thaddeus mused. “But, like weeds, once you think you have rooted them all out, they return in full force.”
“And you say those vermin were using both e-PHEMERUS and Omnert technology?” James asked, looking concerned.
“Yes, Father.”
“Hmmm,” James grumbled, stabbing a piece of cubed meat with his IngesTek fork.
“Of course, as Administrators, we cannot divulge classified information,” Thaddeus said. “But—and you can disavow any knowledge of my saying this, James—Surveillance and InterCorporate Investigations have provided independent reports suggesting that both Corporations have been selling tools and vehicles on the black market, which then make their way to the Corporate Zones.”
“I have seen those reports,” James said. “Very disturbing.”
Gunnar nodded. “All I have been told is that all enemy personnel are suspect.”
“e-PHEMERUS!” Camille barked. “I despise that company! Just thinking about what they did to In-E-Ware makes my blood boil!”
“Gives me the chills,” Anna replied.
Gunnar nodded at his mother.
“In time, they will come to regret opposing us so directly,” Thaddeus said.
“Absolutely,” Gunnar agreed.
“Not being privy to your field reports,” Camille said, “I am not violating any protocols by stating my opinion that e-PHEMERUS must be responsible for Senator DuPonte’s disappearance.”
Thaddeus, James, and Gunnar all stiffened at the mention of the missing senator.
“And, furthermore, I hope the responsible personnel will wind up standing before a PRO-T-EN judge who will dispense with the utmost in PRO-T-EN justice.”
“I am in total agreement,” Anna said.
“Yes, the senator.” Thaddeus sipped his Enwar Vineyards Pinot Noir. “Our top priority at the moment.”
James turned to Gunnar. “I was delighted to see that you were chosen to lead the escort team for this LV-RA person.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“As was I,” Thaddeus said. “And you must return to active duty tomorrow, correct?”
“Correct.” Gunnar felt Daphne’s burning gaze from across the table. She despised Crisis Recall, but at least she understood.
“What a shame,” Camille said, frowning. “Your first Extended Consensual Absence together in so long and all…”
“Listen,” Daphne said, catching Gunnar’s eye as she reached for her M-ByB Deluxe Tulip Glass of Zinfandel. “I propose a toast…”
“Splendid,” Thaddeus said.
“How nice,” Anna offered.
With all eyes upon her, Daphne raised her glass and smiled. “It is a rare occasion that we can all come together. Let us drink to health and happiness. To us, The Rourkes. To our child. And to PRO-T-EN Industries.”
“To PRO-T-EN Industries!” the Rourke Family echoed.
Then came a pleasant din of laughter, tinkling glasses, and hearty swallows.
* * *
Hungry for more? Have you read the mysterious excerpt where Skreth is led to an abandoned bank vault in the wastelands?
NO?!
Read it here: https://pro-t-en.blogspot.com/2025/10/skreth-is-led-to-strange-place-excerpt.html
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