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I.K.E.

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I.K.E.

Post  Nivlac on Thu May 14, 2009 6:47 pm

Ike was on the run. He naturally had ESP, telekinesis, and telepathy from simply being born with a body that used approximately 95 percent of his brain, instead of the normal 10 percent that was seen in your average human. The unfortunate thing behind this gift was that the government of the United States of the Americas discovered him as an Integrator of Kinetic Energies, or I.K.E., which is a title given to anyone who possess kinetic powers, and thought that he had gotten his abilities through an illegal process, was a rogue phantom, or was a phantom for one of the countries the USA happened to be warring with. Either way, he had to be neutralized. You see, the USA and other countries had designed a process in which the brain of a specialized covert operations unit, known as a phantom, could be supercharged with neural shocks that stimulated an extra 50 percent of the brain into activity. This gave the phantom minor kinetic abilities, like those that Ike had, though not as strong.
So, Ike was on the run. Running from those that said him the notice that told him he was “Needed for interrogation.”
Yeah, right, thought Ike, as he left the state of Tierra del Fuego for the third time since he went into hiding. They’re just going to put me down like all the other I.K.E.s they’ve caught. He crumbled up the letter and tossed it into the trash basket that was in his personal room on the plane. Now, I need a plan. I already had enough trouble trying to evade security, and most of it was chance. I won’t be able to get by again so easily.
Ike was 26, about average height, and had light brown hair. He was also very educated in many aspects, but did his best in concealment and disappearing from the public, hence his ability to stay hidden from the government for so long.
The pilot’s voice, with an Argentinean accent, came over the plane’s intercom. “We are now arriving in New Virginia. Please take your seats and fasten your seat belts for landing. Ahora estamos llegando a Nueva Virginia. Por favor, tomen asiento y agarre su cinturón de seguridad para el aterrizaje. Nous sommes maintenant arrivée à New Virginie. S’il vous plaît prendre vos places et attacher vos ceintures de sécurité pour l'atterrissage.”
Shoot, thought Ike, I can’t afford to just wing it, I need to get through.
Ike hesitantly stood up after the plane touched ground and left his room. The surge of hundreds of people in the aisles of the plane swiftly carried him through the plane’s double doors and into the terminal. The terminal was a wide, low-ceilinged hallway with a one-way moving floor that led everyone towards the large and ominous scanner gates that were looming over the crowd. Ike could even see the tiny lights that rapidly ran along the underside of the gates, scanning each individual person in the blink of an eye. If it were to scan someone who had been filed for “Wanted” it would notify Terminal Security, which would then dispatch a tranq sniper. The tranq sniper would climb to one of the many balconies situated around the upper part of the walls and then proceed to pick you out and “tranq” you, or shoot you with a tranquilizer. From there, you would be dragged off into a holding cell until you were conscious enough to answer questions in at least a semi-intelligent manner.
Ike glided underneath the gates and could feel a slight warmth on the top of his head as the scanners picked up, broke down, and read his very DNA scripting. Darn it. It found me. The gates did have a one in 15,000 chance of missing a person, but not today. It scanned Ike just like every other person passing under the gates, and now security probably already had a tranq sniper dispatched just for him.
As Ike left the presence of the gates, though, he suddenly felt a very old, familiar feeling. One that he hadn’t felt in years. He looked around. No, he thought, not here. That’s impossible. He continued to look around himself, but couldn’t figure where it could have come from. Maybe it was just the gates. I might have felt something from-
A muffled click, like that of a rifle’s bolt, picked up by his ESP.
Curse it! They already have me located! He prepared himself for the swift intrusion of a tranquilizer dart through his kinetic field that presided around him.
Then, in quick succession: the snap of a trigger, the release of compressed CO2, the whistling of a dart, then – What? He felt that familiar feeling again. Stronger, but he could tell it was more distant; the source was not as close as before.
But no puncture. He never felt the dart pierce his field. How strange.
That’s when he saw a man up ahead drop to the floor (Ah, they were after someone else). A few people around him looked a bit startled, but otherwise nobody paid attention. It was an all too common thing, and besides, what was one single stranger to all of them? They, of course, had oh too important lives to worry about how one unknown man to them was treated.
Another click. This is it, Ike warily thought.
Snap, release, whistle, just like last time, but unlike last time, a pierce in his energized domain. He acted quickly; he averted the course of the tiny dart so that it soared just past his neck, then made it stop and drop to the ground so that it couldn’t hit another person and cause suspicion. He then caused his body to collapse, to play dead, and then after lying there for a few seconds got up on his hands and knees and crawled amongst a sea of feet and legs to another position away from where he was. This was a common I.K.E. tactic; it made it look as though you were hit, but security never finds the body.
After finding a location far enough away from his initial, he stood back up, brushed himself off, and was immediately hit by the strongest sense of that familiar feeling that he had felt in years. There, standing right in front of him with his side to Ike, was the man who Ike had thought had been hit by the tranq just minutes before.
“Y-y-you,” stammered Ike. “You’re-”
“Sh!” said the man without moving his lips. Or was he really “saying” anything? “You’ll get us both found!”
“Oh,” said Ike, as he converted from speaking verbally to speaking telepathically. “Sorry, it’s just been so long. Are you really an-”
“Yes, I’m an I.K.E. Now quick, tell me your name, son”
“My name is Ike.”
“Hmm,” said the man thoughtfully, “How ironic. Ike is an I.K.E. Did your parents plan that one out?”
“Actually, no,” Ike said remorsefully. “They themselves were not I.K.E.s, and they disowned me when they found out.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry for that. By the way, my name is Jeff.”
“Well Jeff, can you see if we’re almost to the exits yet? I’m trying not to look around too much, anything here will raise suspicion.”
“As a matter of fact we are, and security and the rest of our greeting party don’t look too happy.”
“What?” Ike asked.
“See for yourself.”
Ike concentrated farther ahead behind him on the area where he supposed the exit was, and to his great surprise and horror, his kinetic probe found eight other fields. The fields of eight synthetic I.K.E.s.
The fields of eight phantoms.
To add to his mounting trepidation, as soon as he made contact the phantoms started to move in Ike’s direction, and a loud, steely voice entered his mind.
“I.K.E.S. YOUR LOCATIONS HAVE BEEN PINPOINTED. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST.”
“I said ‘see!’” Jeff yelled. “‘SEE!’ With your eyes! Not sense! Had I wanted to get caught, I would have jumped in the air and waved my arms like a moron!”
“I told you,” Ike retaliated, “I was trying not to look around too much so that we- RUN!”
Ike had just turned around and found a phantom feet away from where he was standing. His yell, plus a large discharge of telekinesis to blast the phantom away, immediately sent the hundreds of people in the terminal in a chaotic stampede for the exit. People were trampled, belongings were hurled, but you could easily spot the I.K.E.s, with them streamlining their telekinesis to easily maneuver through the frenzied rush, and the phantoms, with them recklessly throwing civilians out of their way, as if they were nothing but the dirt of the Earth, for the supposed “good of the country.”
As the prey neared the door, their pursuers close behind, Ike easily pushed away the nine terminal guards from the entranceway with a large explosion of telekinesis. In the attempt, though, he accidentally caused the entire doorway to be blasted outwards. This didn’t help the situation outside.
“What on Earth…?” Ike said in astonishment as he and Jeff exited the terminal through the jagged hole in the wall that used to be a plasma-door.
It seemed as if the entire world now was in on the stampede. People clambered over fences and walls. Cars smashed into the support beams of the 10-lane interstate that ran overhead. The fire emergency system went off, spewing gallons upon gallons of Antifyr onto the crowd. The Antifyr, a super-condensed fire-impeding foam, immediately began to expand at a rapid rate as soon as it made contact with the oxygen in the air. This only assisted in making more havoc.
Ike and Jeff were side by side, the only uniformity within this chaos. Jeff had formed a kinetic sphere around them to keep the hindering froth off and Ike continued to cut through the mass, all the while the phantoms pursued.
“Head to the catavas station!” Jeff hollered. “It’s to the right!”
“The what?” Ike replied.
“The cata- sorry, the subway! NOW!”
Jeff suddenly grabbed Ike by his collar and sharply pulled him in a direction that was completely submerged in Antifyr. This proved as no problem to the two, as they plowed though the mess and abruptly appeared in a brightly lit stairwell. They looked back at the mound of Antifyr for a minute to ensure they had no followers, then faced front and stepped out onto the smooth slanted plane of the staircase. Immediately a small ridge materialized under each of them and started to glide down along the slope. They soon reached the bottom and the ridge disappeared as they stepped off.
The platform was packed. It was also very loud and frantic, and of course, the three don’t go well together.
“It looks like everyone up there came down here,” said Jeff.
“Looks like it, yeah,” Ike said. “And what was the whole ‘catavas’ thing?” he then asked.
“Oh, that’s just I.K.E. slang. Basic things such as ‘subway’ were replaced with other invented words by the general I.K.E. population, just in case we were being eavesdropped telepathically by a phantom or something.”
“How did everyone come up with the words? And how have I never heard of this ‘language’ before?”
“Well, the inventing is easy. Take catavas and subway for example; ‘cata’ is Latin for ‘below’ or ‘under,’ while ‘vas’ is Latin for vessel. So, directly translated, catavas comes out to be ‘under-vessel.
“As for you not hearing about this, I don’t know. It’s pretty universal; you must’ve been hiding really well or something.”
“You could say that, I guess.”

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Re: I.K.E.

Post  Nivlac on Thu May 14, 2009 6:49 pm

I wrote this a year ago for my English class. I definitely had a lot of fun writing this, lol.
Anyways, tell me what you think.

(Sorry for the confusing formatting of the story. I copied it directly from Microsoft Word, and so things like indentations didn't carry over.)

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