Soup With Chaos

Chaos was seated at his desk, a data tablet in each hand.  He looked at one, then the other and back.  Some figures were encouraging.  Others were not.  They had managed to take the entirety of South America before James and Meng could mount a viable defense.  They were still managing a tough resistance along the Panama Canal, though.  ‘Damn it,’ Chaos thought.  ‘If only I hadn’t sent the other companies away.’  But he had seen this coming.  Neither the TDF nor the Government knew his true troop strength, what he had amassed while they moronically resupplied him and plied for more time.  ‘Fools only did me a favor.’  “Chaos is proving difficult to bring in, we need more time,” he mimicked in a whining tone.

Two full battalions of nanitics.  He had managed over 2,000 troops, ¾ of which he had sent off, 3 companies each to Europe, Africa and Asia.  While he fought the TDF forces here in Panama, they would build strength, emerging when James and Meng had been drawn deep enough into this region.  Then he could spring the trap.  They would be weakened elsewhere around the globe, giving his nanitics the additional time they needed to come into power.  His command company was holding, having sent one of his other two slowly around to perform a northern flank on the TDF, the third beginning to build a base of operations in North America under Matthew.

It would become dicey if the timing were off; he had everything timed precisely.  It was, however, true and glorious nanitic-on-nanitic warfare right now.  Full blown battles raged for days without stop.  Even as his troops fell dead, Chaos could feel himself becoming more powerful.  He knew his plan was working.

His aide came in.  How he hated relying on others!  But he knew from experience he would neglect himself dangerously if someone didn’t shepherd him.  “Sir?  Shall I bring supper?”

Without looking up Chaos grumbled, “What mutant slop did the cook prepare tonight?  Salsa on a shingle?  Churro pancakes?  Queso con queso?”

“With respect, sir, he does his best with what little we have,” the aide said meekly.  He knew how Chaos’s last aide had been ‘retired.’  The man had been a bit too forceful with Chaos.  His arms?  ‘Momma had a baby and its arms popped off,’ Chaos thought.

Grudgingly Chaos said, “I know.  What is it?”

“Beef soup with bread.”  More like brown beef-flavored water. It had to be done so his other companies would arrive with sufficient supplies to get started.  How distasteful, though, that the command company should eat the lowest.

“Bring it,” he said, the aide scurrying to comply.  Chaos put down one tablet and focused on the other.  Casualty rate up 5% over the last three days.  To be expected.  They had taken control over the western mouth of the Canal and were beginning to ferry forces to its northern side.  It was a maneuver meant to fail, but also one meant to pull in more of the TDF’s forces.  As such, those ferried forces were taking casualties.  It was war.  Soldiers were injured.  They died.  

Baker company, command battalion, would be in place two days from today.  Assuming the TDF didn’t reinforce too heavily before then, their Canal forces would be caught between two companies of Chaos’s Elite and would be crushed.  The TDF would then bring in reinforcements by way of Mexico, hoping to mass sufficiently to counter this ‘sudden increase’ in Chaos’s forces.  They did that, Chaos would rear-flank again with a small number from Matthew’s contingent, drawing attention north.  Keep poking the bee hive little at a time and larger responses would come.  Once James and Meng committed enough troops to the New World in hopes of countering the ‘guerilla warfare of Chaos,’ he would unleash his global forces.  A few months at the outmost.  With nine other companies of nanitics, such would be enough for a foothold.

At that point the Government, becoming fearful, would predictably return to diplomacy.  Chaos would use the time to grow his forces.  Then the true war would begin.  If he couldn’t get more nanitics quickly enough he would turn what he had into battalion and company level officers, having them lead conventional forces globally.  His subsumed plants in South America were already producing weapons for that contingency.  If it never came, he could always sell them to collectors or to the ‘independent militias’ he was thinking of goading into existence once in power.

A bowl, bread, napkin and spoon were set before him.  “Mhhh,” he grunted.  The aide left again.  The tablet showed markers of major TDF concentrations along the Canal.  They weren’t massing like he wanted them to.  He had poked the bee-hive plenty hard.  Where were the drones?  They had to oppose him after Nelson’s little post-Columbia speech.  They were tied to action.

His other tablet chirped indicating new data.  Switching them, he became instantly, apocalyptically angry.  “Intercepted?!”  One of the many troop transports carrying his nanitics to Asia had been intercepted.  And sunk!  All hands lost!  How?!  Why?!  “Graaaaahhh!” he exclaimed, snapping the pad in two.  It chirped at him again, displaying another ship reported lost before going black.

“Fuckshit!  In here now!”  The aide scurried in, presenting a figure at a trembling imitation of attention.  “I just lost two transports for Asia.  Two!  How did this happen?!”  The aide couldn’t form words he was so scared.

Internally Chaos smiled at the man’s fear.  “You know what I want you to do?”  The aide again tried to find words but couldn’t.  “Fix this!” he exclaimed, throwing the broken pad at the man.  The aide caught it and ran out of the room. “And get my ex-com in here!  All of them!”

Someone had to have messed up.  Who would pay for this?  He had put nanitic Covers on those ships, people whose power made the ships virtual holes in space-time.  Not even Meng should have been able to see their course.  Chaos’s analytic mind kicked into high-gear as he tore off a chunk of bread.  ‘But he can see their eventual impact.  And he could feed that data into James,’ Chaos thought. ‘And his mind is yet better than mine.’

He smashed the table with his free hand causing the spoon to summersault off the table into the bowl.  James would be able to work backward with the data, plotting plausible courses for ships to carry troops from Columbia to their intended ports.  And with that knowledge now confirmed, James and Meng would know as fact that Chaos’s forces were larger than those they faced at the Canal.  His plans were slipping from his grip.  “Where’s my ex-com?” Chaos raged at his aide in the other room.

“They’re on their way, sir. Some of them were on-line,” the man said delicately.  

‘See?’ Chaos said to himself, chewing another chunk of bread, ‘Tearing off a person’s arms can be motivating.’ James and Meng wouldn’t mass forces in the New World as Chaos had wanted.  His plans had to change.  They would need to crush the TDF’s forces here and begin their march northward quickly, take the whole New World and deprive the TDF of even a beachhead.

And if he could take America…’Take out their heart, take out their will,’ Chaos thought around a spoonful of soup.  ‘I should at least be able to count on one company reaching each continent, he added to himself. He tapped out commands on the surviving tablet.  New orders went out to his field officers who would make sure these new plans succeeded.  They had, after all, also heard about how his last aide had died.  Even nanitics weren’t willing to see what Chaos was capable of.

His ire fell slightly as he felt his ex-com gathering.  They would talk with each other, plying his aide for information before entering.  It was their way.

The soup became a relaxing experience.  Chaos identified all the scant spices:  pepper, salt, garlic, some basil.  Celery, potato and onion floated in the brown, watery broth.  Somehow Chaos felt revitalized despite the fact that he was having soup.  ‘It’s all connected, isn’t it?’ he thought, staring at and stirring the brown substance in his bowl.  ‘As I change things, stir them up, they change each other.  Each has an impact on the next.  An infinitely long chain, as James had said.  I can only see parts, though.  That’s unfortunate.’

Chaos knew his amplified powers weren’t the most dominant or most accurate that existed on Earth.  But he wouldn’t give up the idea that if he pushed himself just a little more, spent a little more energy, melded with a few more minds, that he could come close enough to the power some held.

He looked down and realized his soup and bread were gone.  The cook did do a fairly good job with what he had.  Setting everything aside, Chaos turned his attention back to the remaining tablet, watching as the battle front began to shift.  The TDF forces would have been taken by surprise at the new ferocity with which Chaos’s forces attacked.  That element of surprise was now used up, though.  He could not count on it to win a battle again.

Noise in his assistant’s office told Chaos his executive committee had fully arrived.  In a voice soothed by the soup he said toward them, “Come.  We have new plans to discuss.”  His aide, if not his commanders, should certainly be thankful for the change in tone.  And all from soup.

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