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"NF Manhattan Trilogy I: Battery Park"
 
   LAST EDITED ON Sep-26-11 AT 00:21 AM (EDT)
 
[Slight title adjustment to reflect the fact that this piece, taking place after Day of Infamy, actually belongs to the New Frontier era, and that it has unexpectedly become the first part of a trilogy. Manhattan Trilogy II and III to follow. --G. 2011.08.13]

[Small fix to Cap's shield. I originally had him carrying the wrong one for the date this story is set. --G. 2011.09.26]

[It's Memorial Day in the US, so I thought I'd do a little Captain America piece, even if it didn't end up actually having anything to do with Memorial Day.]

Thursday, August 9, 2412
North American Aerospace Defense Zone One

A half-dozen Pelican-class aerodyne dropships flew northward in echelon formation. The vehicles wore the grey and red livery of the International Police Organization's Tactical Division. Aboard them, squads of armored soldiers fidgeted, adjusted their equipment, and made private bargains with their gods, as soldiers have done aboard transports since the dawn of war.

In the troop compartment of the lead Pelican, a man in a colorful costume sat looking out the open side door at the gleaming waters of the Atlantic. Tall and brawnily built, he stood in stark contrast to the blue-armored TacDiv troopers surrounding him. Unlike them, he wore no armor - just heavy canvas trousers, sturdy old-fashioned combat boots, and a blue leather cavalry jacket emblazoned with a white star and alternating red and white stripes. On his head he wore an old-fashioned steel pot helmet, painted blue, with a distinctive white "A" on the front. Also unlike the troops around him, he carried no weapon... only a red-and-blue-striped metal disc with a big white star in the center.

The troopers of the 17th Division were in awe of this man. Though he was unarmed and unarmored, save for his shield and helmet, they all felt safer just knowing he was with them. They still feared the unstable, possibly hostile situation they were flying into - only a fool would not have - but they had faith in their leader that surpassed any fear of harm or death they might feel. His hair might be going white under that steel pot helmet, he might have been flying a desk in New Avalon for the past dozen years, but none of that mattered. His sheer presence swept all such practical considerations away.

These men and women were going into potential danger with Captain America on their side.

The aerodyne formation banked inland as orbital controllers vectored the pilots toward their landing zone. As the vehicles turned, Rogers leaned closer to the doorway and swept the horizon with his eyes, his heart lifting at the mere sight of the New York skyline. Modernized and then battered since his last visit, it was nevertheless instantly recognizable. Though the lesser towers across the river showed gaps like broken teeth, all of Manhattan's most distinctive structures still stood. The Interstellar Friendship Tower. The Geosphere. The Baxter Building. By God, the Empire State not only still stood, but looked somehow indestructible, as if mocking William Clark's ambition to devastate the Earth. And there was the gleaming spire of the Chrysler Building, with its magnificent Tesla-designed Art Deco deflector array that had kept the city safe as fire and wreckage rained from the skies.

The Pelicans made another turn, setting themselves up for the approach to Battery Park. Before the dropships were fully on the ground, the troopers were out and forming up. Unslinging his shield from his back, Captain America took point and led them toward the East Coast Memorial.

The disturbance there had been described to him as a riot, but as he and the TacDiv troops approached, Rogers thought it looked more like a gang fight. There was a large group of agitated people in the memorial plaza, to be sure - and, to Steve's mild surprise and discomfiture, many of them were wearing clothes with a motif similar to his costume. Displays of patriotism for the abolished member countries of the Earth Alliance had been illegal since the crackdown of 2406, and to see people breaking out their stars-and-stripeswear only to form an angry mob struck the Captain as fundamentally wrong somehow.

Wronger still was the behavior of the mob in question. As he approached, he could see that this wasn't a riot. This crowd wasn't fighting among itself. It seemed to have the art deco eagle statue that formed the centerpiece of the memorial surrounded, and seethed there like a single entity, hurling undifferentiable curses and the occasional bottle or rock. Only as he drew near could Steve see just what they had cornered there: a terrified-looking trio of Salusian aid workers, all dressed in the white uniform of the International Green Crescent. They had apparently thought to flee from this mob into nearby Castle Clinton, only to be surrounded and backed up against the base of the eagle.

A few members of the mob noticed the colorful figure as he approached with most of a company of TacDiv infantry behind him. They seemed uncertain what to make of him. Blinking in puzzlement, they fell silent, took a couple of steps away from the rest of the mass.

Raising his voice to a parade-ground bark so it would cut through the roar of the mob, Captain America demanded,

"All right, what's going on here?"

The jeers and imprecations died away, replaced by a murmur of excited recognition. One member of the mob, a young man with dark, spiky hair and a star-spangled T-shirt, shoved his way back through the crowd so that he could confront the new arrivals.

"Clear off!" he snapped. "We don't need the International Police to take care of this. We'll deal with these alien scum ourselves."

Rogers fixed the young man with a flinty gaze. "These people are aid workers," he said, pointing to the huddled Salusians' uniforms. "They came here with the Galactic Alliance task force. They're here to help the people of New York. Here to help you during the transition of power."

Uncowed, the young man spat on the ground. "Transition, hell. The EA's history now, and good riddance, too. This is America again - and we don't need handouts from alien spies in America."

A few members of the crowd shouted out agreement or encouragement, but all fell silent as Rogers narrowed his eyes and advanced a couple of steps.

"Son," he said, "you don't have a clue what America needs."

That seemed to crack the young man's composure a little. "Oh - oh yeah?" he said, his face flushing. "Well, I can tell you what it doesn't need, and that's advice from museum pieces like you! Where were you when President Clark abolished your country?"

"Working with the only people who stood a chance of bringing him to justice," Rogers replied flatly. "Where were you? Cheering while Earthforce revoked offworlders' visas at gunpoint, probably," he guessed, the lines of disgust in his face deepening as the young man's shifty-eyed flinch proved him right. "'Earth for Earthers'. You think that's America?"

Turning his attention to the rest of the crowd, Captain America demanded, "Do you people have any idea where you are? Have you forgotten your history so quickly? See that building over there? That's Castle Clinton. Centuries ago, it was the place where thousands of immigrants were welcomed to the New World." Pointing, he went on, "That statue is called Liberty Enlightening the World. For 500 years she's been a symbol of the freedom and opportunity this land offers - to all decent beings. And behind me," he added, angling a thumb to indicate the unmissable spire of glittering alloy and crystal rising nearly a mile into the sky from the Financial District, "is the Interstellar Friendship Tower, Earth's first official port of entry for offworld visitors. Humanity's hand extended in friendship to the entire galaxy, from right here in this city."

Rogers returned his shield to his back and folded his arms, raking the crowd with narrowed eyes. "Have you all forgotten what it was to be Americans before William Clark?" he demanded. "Because I haven't, and if you have, I'm more than willing to teach you again."

The crowd wavered, on the brink of dissolving - and the young man who had done the talking suddenly charged, drawing a blade from under the light jacket he wore. The TacDiv troopers nearest the front stiffened, raising their weapons, but before they could do anything more, Captain America moved. With a speed that completely belied his apparent age, he sidestepped the attack, seized his assailant's outstretched arm, disarmed him, and hurled him to the ground. Then, as if dismissing the young man entirely, he turned back to the crowd.

"The Earth Alliance government has used the power of fear against its citizens for the better part of a decade," Rogers told them. "The Night Watch, the Ministry of Peace, the Psi Corps. Their constant presence - their constant propaganda - has taught you to be afraid. Of offworlders; of your own government; of each other." Fists clenched, jaw set like a steam shovel, Captain America drew himself to his full height and declared, "That ends now."

Jerking a thumb back over his shoulder at his defeated adversary, he added, "My young friend there was right about one thing. This is America again - right here, right now, we're taking it back. But we have to keep in mind what it is to be American. Americans don't express disagreement with the point of a knife. Americans don't turn on our friends. And Americans do not fear - not our enemies, not our friends, and for damn sure not ourselves.

"A great American once said: 'We will not walk in fear, one of another. We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason if we dig deep in our history and doctrine and remember that we are not descended from fearful men.' We didn't do it then and we're not going to do it now. Not when the whole galaxy is depending on our example."

The silent onlookers stood staring for a few moments. Then, slowly at first, some at the back began to applaud. Within seconds, this new impulse electrified the crowd. Where just minutes before they'd been baying for blood, now they cheered and waved their hands, buoyed by Captain America's message. Near the monument, a couple of crushed-looking teenagers helped the Green Crescent workers up amid tearful apologies.

Suddenly, a burly man with a bushy red walrus mustache pointed and yelled, "Cap, look out!"

Rogers whirled, raising his shield just in time to deflect a bolt from his risen opponent's hold-out blaster. Like lightning, he crossed the few yards between them and bullrushed the young man back to the ground. A swipe of his shield sent the blaster skittering across the memorial plaza, and a solid right put his attacker out for the count.

Rising to his feet again, Rogers was slightly surprised to find the beefy man who had warned him now standing by his side. With a suspicious frown, the man knelt down and rummaged through the unconscious youth's jacket, then uttered a triumphant sound and straightened up.

"Look at this!" he declared, holding high an item he'd removed from the young man's jacket. The crowd uttered a sound of surprise and dismay at the sight of it, a gleaming black badge with yellow trim: the emblem of a Night Watch undercover agent.

"A plant," someone in the crowd cried.

"My God, what he almost made us do," another voice quavered.

The burly man dropped the Night Watch agent's badge on his chest, then spat on the ground next to him.

"Cap's right," he said. "This isn't the way we're supposed to do things in this town. Most'a you are kids, but I'm old enough to know better. We all oughta be ashamed of ourselves."

"Well," Rogers said as he shrugged his shield onto his back again, "consider it a lesson learned." Turning to his TacDiv detachment, he said, "Secure the park and get this guy out of here. Intel Division's going to want to talk to him about possible Werwolf operations by EA loyalists."

"Sir!" the ranking trooper said, saluting.

"What about us, Cap? We want to help," said the man with the mustache. "Like you said, we're Americans. We wanna do our part."

Rogers smiled. "Come with me," he said, and led the way across the park toward Castle Clinton.

Standing in front of the ancient fortification was a flagpole, its lanyard drooping forlornly. It had been shorn of its Earth Alliance flag when the EA surrendered to the Galactic Alliance Treaty Organization forces the previous day, but no flag had been raised yet to replace it. No doubt someone somewhere had it on a list of installations to be graced with the GATO occupation flag, but Captain America had other ideas.

Reaching into the double breast of his uniform, he drew out a parcel of colorful fabric, carefully unfolded it, and ran it up the flagpole. Then he stepped back, drew himself to attention, and saluted the Stars and Stripes as they flew over his hometown for the first time in six years.

Then, turning to the silent crowd, he said, "Go home. Think about what happened here today. Think about who you are. We've all got a lot of work before America, and Earth, can stand on their own feet again, but stand they must, and soon. You're all going to be instrumental in making that happen."

Murmuring, subdued, the crowd began to break up and drift away. Before it could fully do so, though, the man with the mustache spoke again.

"What about you, Cap?"

"Me?" Rogers grinned. "I'm going to be right here. Helping to rebuild my country."

The man grinned. "You need any help, you gimme a call. Name's Dunphy. Dennis Dunphy. I'm in the book."

"I may just do that. Thanks. Oh, and Dennis?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the warning."

"Any time, Cap," Dunphy said, and then he left.

Alone in front of Castle Clinton, Rogers stood looking up at the flag for a few moments, lost in thought. He was brought out of his reverie by the arrival of a blonde woman in the uniform of a Tactical Division major.

"You're a sentimental fool, Steve Rogers," Major Samantha Carter remarked with a smile as she walked to his side.

"Guilty as charged," Rogers replied.

"You think it'll work?" Sam asked, taking his arm.

"Rebuilding America? Sure it will. She's bounced back from worse. And the galaxy needs her."

Sam studied his face for a second. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"Of course I do." With a slightly wry grin, Rogers added, "I am Captain America, after all."

"Battery Park (Part I of the Manhattan Trilogy)
a New Frontier Mini-Story by Benjamin D. Hutchins
Special to the Eyrie Productions Discussion Forum
© 2007, 2011 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited


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NF Manhattan Trilogy I: Battery Park [View All] Gryphonadmin May-28-07 TOP
   RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story Verbena May-28-07 1
      RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story Star Ranger4 May-28-07 2
   RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story Matrix Dragon May-28-07 3
   RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story O_M May-28-07 4
   RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story mdg1 May-28-07 5
   RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story Meagen May-28-07 6
   RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story BZArchermoderator May-28-07 7
   RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story MOGSY May-28-07 8
   RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story Avatar_of_Chaos May-28-07 9
      RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story Norgarth May-28-07 10
      RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story Peter Eng May-29-07 13
   RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story McFortner May-28-07 11
      RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story MOGSY May-28-07 12
   RE: Battery Park: A Future Imperfect Mini-Story Gryphonadmin Nov-20-08 14
   RE: NF Manhattan Trilogy I: Battery Park trigger Aug-13-11 15
      RE: NF Manhattan Trilogy I: Battery Park Prince Charon Aug-14-11 16
          RE: NF Manhattan Trilogy I: Battery Park Peter Eng Aug-15-11 17
              RE: NF Manhattan Trilogy I: Battery Park Verbena Aug-15-11 18


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