Writer's Prompt #01

The Price of Power….

By H. Wolfgang Porter

Power.

Everyone wants it. Even those who claim to be ‘guardians of justice’ want it too. Why does anyone want power? The word itself describes something impossible to actually attain, let alone keep. That is; until it becomes…possible.

I wanted power. Far more than most. Eventually, I got what I wanted. That’s inaccurate. The truth being, I took what I wanted with whatever means I had available. I had to. Well, that’s the lie I told others and myself for more time than I care to admit.

Shame. Me of all people feeling what I always thought was a ridiculous emotion. Let’s face it, ‘Villains don’t feel shame’ was the mantra which carried me along in a world full of ‘Extraordinary Beings’.

When you live in a world where a lucky few have “powers and abilities far beyond mortal men,” as a ‘mere mortal’ you either bow down or rise up. Either option mind you, comes with considerable risk.

I was but one insignificant speck amid the ‘Great Mortal Masses’. As a child, I regaled at the exploits of ‘Extraordinaries’ (X’s among we powerless commoners.) I worshipped those who claimed status as the ‘Guardians of Justice’ and the ‘Lords of Pandemonium’.

X’s among the groups who rose to the top of the ranks on either side were titans of this world. Their exploits in their clashes against the various factions were the myths and legends I grew up hearing. That was until I became a young man.

As an ‘Mm’ (mere mortal with small emphasis on ‘mortal’), I did as the billions of us had little choice to do. At eighteen, I was put into ‘Selective Service’ and I worked for an extraordinary.

Since I was a citizen of a territory held by a Guardian of Justice, my childhood wasn’t marred too terribly by loss. My parents weren’t gunned down in an alleyway before my eyes, nor did I grow up on an idyllic farm. I certainly wasn’t born to a fabulously wealthy family with access to near unlimited resources either.

No, I was ‘ordinary’ as could be. I’d taken the ‘Extraordinary Power Evaluation’ three times before my eighteenth birthday and tested ‘negative’ for ‘Extraordinary Ability’. My working parents (divorced) were disappointed because being an X would mean the family’s entry into the Power Aristocracy. Instead, I went to work for a mid-level GoJ as a logistics clerk.

Believe it or not, the lives of X’s are far from carefree affairs. The higher up the ranks in the Power Aristocracy an X is, the more logistical support they require. Even those who maintain a ‘secret identity’ require ‘off book’ organizations to handle their logistic lightwork.

The X I worked for being mid-level, was a member of a group called the ‘League of Lady Legionnaires.’ For a first posting, I could have done far worse. The ‘Triple L’s’ were a pretty good lot of working-class X’s ranging from low-level ‘no-powers’ who possessed better than normal physical and mental abilities, to ‘powered’ individuals up to the maximum of the mid-level scale.

My employer was a ‘Mentalist’ and a damn good one for mid-level ranking. She was no nonsense, tough and upfront with who and what she was. I learned quite a bit working with her. Because of her ‘weakness’ (all X’s have them), I was able to rise in the ranks of her organization quickly. Her proclivity for seducing her male employees created several ‘openings’ for me to advance and I took advantage of them.

By the tender age of twenty-one, I had learned the ‘secret’ of how the system worked. One didn’t need power to attain it. Simply being in ‘the right place at the right time’ moved me up from mere clerk, to Personal Manager for an X. To have done so in merely four years made me sought after by both GoJ and LoP alike.

So, for more than a decade I moved among the ranks of X’s in various positions most times as a Personal Manager and then as the most sought after Councilor of Extraordinary Affairs. A side-effect of my original posting as a logistics clerk was my learning the pattern of how the X’s lived and managed their affairs.

The initial pattern I deduced from my first employer showed me how the group she worked with was linked. As I moved from X to X on both sides of the ‘line’, I learned how all patterns were connected. That became my ‘extraordinary power’.

Using my ability to detect patterns, I helped X’s rise up the ranks and others to fall. Because my reputation of ‘clear and present council’, I became a real player on the board as X’s began to respect (and fear) my ‘power behind the throne’. Those who followed my advice against their enemies lived and moved up. Those who didn’t….

When I became a ‘named player’, though I was considered ‘unpowered’ the Extraordinary Factions all agreed to my being listed as an ‘X-Aspect’. It was a new title for someone who clearly had a Top-Level Extraordinary ability, but exhibited no outward signs. I wasn’t a technologist, mentalist or even possessed particular scientific or mathematic abilities. In their minds, I was truly an ‘X’.

When I was first kidnapped by an X from the LoP’s rival to the same Lord I worked for (all X’s poach top employees when they can), I thwarted him without lifting a finger as I was strapped into the latest deathtrap. My employer through my prior advice, already broke through the weaknesses in that loser’s latest ‘impenetrable fortress’. The place had been ransacked and set ablaze as he monologued about ‘how he would take over the world with my help’.

I began to pity the X’s on either side of the line. Their goals were simple; one side wanted to keep the balance of power, while the other wanted to unbalance it. Day after day, year after year, it was the same thing…over and over. Until I got tired of it.

Like I said, ‘I knew the patterns’. I knew how often attacks from either side would occur, their intensity, how long they would last and most important, how to deal with them. After seventeen years ‘in the business’, I’d worked for numerous X’s up and down the ranks. I literally knew them all…save one.

In any hierarchy, there’s always the ‘Top Guy’, ‘A Number One’, the ‘Extraordinary the standard is set by.’ The Primary X was a woman. Well, technically not a ‘woman’ per se as she was an ‘alien’ from a distant world devoured by some cosmic entity. ‘She’ was the last of her species who was supposed to go to a world colonized by her people. The damaged ship carrying her got caught in the sun’s gravity well. Unable to break free, it rerouted to the nearest inhabited planet and crashed on earth. Lighter gravity, dense atmosphere, high energy food-stuffs and we got one ‘Extraordinary Being’.

Despite my many exploits, I’d never worked for the ‘Primary’. All the GoJ factions worked for her just as all of the LoP factions worked to take her down. I understood why the Primary never sought my services. She didn’t need them, for no one could stop her.

We only met once earlier in my career. She’d broken up a ring of inter-territorial sex-traffickers which was technically beneath her. Normally, she stuck with far more ‘world-shaking’ issues like alien invasions or other world-ending catastrophes.

Fortunately, I was present as an advisor for one of her top-level X’s who’d moved up due to my efforts. She was cordial, regal even in her greeting and after acknowledging her subordinate’s good work, the Primary announced ‘she’d keep an eye on me.’

I didn’t think much of that encounter, but in time I noticed the ‘patterns’ would bring us together once more. That day came when the Primary of the Lords sought out my advice to take down the Guardian Primary and the GoJ ‘once and for all’. He didn’t appreciate my answer, ‘it couldn’t be done…at least not by him. Because there was a line he simply wouldn’t cross.’

Him being a Primary X, there came the expected brandishing of power and threats. Yet, I looked him in the eye with detachment as my assessment was unmistakable. It was at that moment, the Guardian Primary burst into the Lord’s headquarters deep below the earth for a ‘final showdown’.

 As I knew, ‘lines had to be crossed’ for victory over a rival Primary to be achieved. That line was simple; you must kill them.

With all the lives taken by the Lord’s Primary himself and those who worked under him, you’d think taking one more would be simple. As the son of a God from another dimension, he certainly had the ability to kill the Guardian Primary. They‘d battled each other for years over territory and what-not. But neither would ‘cross that line’ when it came to ‘winning’ because they couldn’t. Well, more like ‘wouldn’t’. They needed each other.

But on that particular day, their battle became more brutal than ever before. Neither would give ground and I knew what was next. I abandoned the base and made it to the surface in time to watch the entire facility collapse into the earth like an underground nuclear test site!

Not long after the dust settled, the ground rumbled once more and the Guardian Primary burst through what should have been her tomb. In an ungainly landing mere feet from where I stood, I caught her as she fell forward spent from the battle. Surprised by her weight, I fell to my knees. Covered in caked blood, dirt and stone chips her beautiful face was marred by grievous wounds. Given time, she would heal and return to full strength.

But there was a weariness about her that negated such a typical outcome. I had watched the patterns and as the Guardian Primary lay in my arms, all was obvious.

“You knew this would happen…didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You knew I’d come when he sought your advice.”

“I did.”

“You knew…I was his weakness didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. I know all your weaknesses. That’s why you never came to me. Even though you desperately wanted to.”

“Heh. Y-you’re right. I understood what your ‘power’ would have meant to me and I-I couldn’t let myself be near it. I knew it that day years ago when I met you. I probably should have killed you….”

“But you didn’t. That ‘pattern’ didn’t fit you. Well…are you ready?”

There was a long pause and with big human-like eyes, the Guardian Primary looked at me with relief and then they slowly closed.

I leaned down and kissed her fully on the mouth.

When I released her, she sighed one last time and was dead.

The patterns I saw years past showed me it was possible one person could take control of the entire system if they could do two things; defeat the two Primaries and find a way to maintain that control. I learned their weaknesses after many years studying their patters in battle and life. The Lord’s Primary powerful as he was, could be taken down by an equal in physical combat. The Guardian Primary in all the decades she ruled, never took on a human close confidant or consort.

I deduced that in doing so, she would revert to conform to life on this planet and thus lose her extraordinary abilities. The Guardian Primary realized the day we met I was a threat to her. But, the patterns of her behavior would not allow her to eradicate me. Just as the Lord’s Primary needed her as a foil, she needed me as her ‘endgame’.

Yet, there was one thing the Guardian Primary probably didn’t realize. Giving herself to a resident of this world, wasn’t the ‘end’ for her. It would recreate her people. However, in order for me to defeat her she had to be weakened to the point of no recovery after the transfer of power.

It took nearly two decades, but with the Guardian Prime’s alien power transferred to me (without that nasty side-effect) and her only real rival dead, I took control over both factions…and therefore the world!

Many decades after that fateful day, I ‘The Ruler of the World’ find myself sitting at a kitchen counter in a vast sky palace peeling Mandarin Oranges for breakfast. As per the day of recognition of my ‘grab-for-power’…uh, ‘Ascension to the New Extraordinary Aristocracy Anniversary’, I put on my old costume for the upcoming parade and displays by the newest generation of X’s and their supporting staffs.

Sure, I eventually brought balance to the world as I was never truly a villain or hero (though I got my hands good and dirty ‘crossing lines’ to get things where they are.) But, I never lost the ability to see ‘patterns’. And long after I’ve defeated my enemies, the patterns tell me I wasn’t so clever after all. The Guardian Prime obviously knew this would happen. I was her means to keep it from happening to her.

I got suckered. That’s what I would tell me if I was still the hot-shot adviser I’d been way back when. That’s what happens when you play the ‘long game’ to gaining power. Until the patterns shift to where some young, enterprising (and not too bright) mortal or X comes along and finally frees me of ‘power’, I’ll be here. Peeling damn oranges for breakfast and putting this stupid, faded ‘X-Suit’ on to please those I hold dominion over….

The End

©2017 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.