An Ill-Intentioned Gift

“She sent what?!”

“A—a pear tree, ma’am.”

The man trembled slightly, fear and perhaps a bit of confusion coloring his features at the outrage in his superior’s face.

She ground her teeth together and gripped the edge of the desk until her knuckles turned white.

“A pear tree. Full-grown?”

The man in front of her shifted nervously, likely cursing the bad luck that made it his job to report packages sent from the enemy, but she couldn’t care less. It was wartime, and personal preference was not priority. Let him tremble; she was livid.

“Um, I–I’m unfamiliar with how big pear trees are supposed to be…uh, but it has fruit on it.” He gestured. “On the branches.”

She slammed her hands on the table, shouting a curse.

Her blood boiled at the gall of that woman.

She was the government’s most powerful weapon. The audacious criminal who dared send her a pear tree was her equal on the opposite side of the war. And—

“She promised to never bring that up again!”

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It was a tremulous time in a world in which the super-powered were branded either heroes or villains—depending on which side of the war you were on.

Violet sent the unfortunate—and still trembling—messenger out of her office with as much civility as she could manage under the circumstances and pressed a button to call for the head officer of the communications and coding division.

She sighed, thumbing the letter that sat on the edge of her desk with a sparing it a glance. She knew its contents by heart, and because the sloppy handwriting was illegible to most, it felt like the letter was written in a secret language known only by the sender and her.

Dearly Detested,

First off, what do you think of that greeting? Since you don’t want me to use your real name anymore, and I’m not going to call you by a government-coded title I thought I’d get creative. It’s great, right? Your mom says it’s adorable.

Secondly, what the heck was that last attack strategy? You’ve been using the same battle plan since we were on the soccer team together in fourth grade! You do realize who you’re fighting, right? Maybe let your tactics team head up next offensive, yeah? There’s no need for so many people to die. Seriously.

All the worst,

Ellie

Violet slid the letter into her field of vision and traced the scribbled words, pained familiarity spreading across her heart like fog.

It was about 10 years ago when a group of super powered people—or Unordinarys as they were now known—had fought with another group of Unordinarys and caused a major oil spill that resulted in enormous environmental damage and a number of casualties.

The governments of the world came together in response to that event and mandated all “enhanced individuals” subject themselves to government supervision regarding “all uses pertaining to abilities, capacities, and/or aspects of an individual outside the Ordinary Human Standard.”

Violet had been in high school at the time and had watched the world she knew crumble into chaos as families, friends, and communities tore apart at the seams in division over the new law.

Along with many, perhaps a majority, Violet obeyed the authorities and in doing so, lost her best friend, Eliana, and her own mother.

Now, ten years later, most countries were divided into two regions—one with those who opposed the government and the other with those who followed it.

There were a select few who thought the world could exist this way, but it was a futile way of thinking. International relations, trade, economy—none of it could function properly in a divided country.

And so the war began.

All things considering, Violet was very content with her life. The government recruited the Unordinarys on their side to come and work for them, mostly in the war effort. It was only fitting, seeing how much more they could do than ordinary people.

And Violet found great purpose and fulfillment in serving on behalf of the side that was fighting for peace as Commander in Chief. She was regarded as a hero. It was the best calling in life.

Relatively. It was hard when your arch-nemesis was your childhood best friend.

Ellie had been furious when Violet had “willingly surrendered her freedom and right to determine between right and wrong for herself” as her best friend had so graciously put it.

The falling out had been rough, rougher in some ways than losing her mom to the other side. She had been arguing with her mother more and more and wasn’t surprised when her mother declared her intention of “standing with freedom,” but when Ellie went west on the same airplane, Violet felt her heart break and fury flood the cracks.

Now Ellie was the leader of the West Region while Violet did everything in her power to oppose her from the East Region.

The door at the end of the room opened, and a man in a pressed uniform and a green name badge entered.

“Jade, thank you for coming.”

He smiled and gave a two-fingered salute. Always the jokester, this man.

“I heard you got pretty worked up about the latest package we received.”

His eyebrows raised in curiosity, but she shook her head firmly.

“We’re not going to talk about it.”

“Are you sure? I could have the tree brought to you once P.U.T. gets done with—”

The lights flickered and the floor quaked fractionally, and the teasing smile on Jade’s face dropped into wary blankness like a guillotine blade.

“What can I do for you?”

It was funny really, how just a sliver of her powers elicited such extreme responses. But she was the only Grade Violet in the whole country, so it wasn’t as if the trepidation and fear of others were entirely unmerited.

“I want you to contact one of our spies and supply them with a pair of pigeons. Have them released into enemy headquarters.”

“Pigeons?”

“Yes, pigeons,“ she snapped, moving around her desk to the touch-screen wall. “She’s terrified of them.”

Jade didn’t ask who “she” was. He just nodded, turned stiffly on his heel, and exited with the click of the door sounding behind him.

Violet slid her fingers against the glass-paneled wall, pulling up live footage of the East-West Border and visuals from last week’s strike attack.

It was a bit like living in the Avengers Facility or the Justice League’s Watchtower, she mused. Technology was advancing rapidly thanks to the Jade Grade, and the people of the East Region no longer had to be tethered to the limited size of a hand-held device.

Of course, not just technology had changed within the new system.

Due to the sheer number of people in government facilities, people were given an identity code—a set of digits much like social security numbers—and went by that rather than names in professional contexts. The numbers were displayed in microchipped name tags worn on the left side of the chest. Most people had white name tags while Unordinary‘s tags were color-coded to match their grade.

Around headquarters, it was common for people in different grades to call each other by their color names since their interactions were few and far between and there was no sense trying to memorize a set of numbers they would never use again.

Jade was the grade for Unordinarys with technology-based powers. They handled hacking, information gathering, and technological management among other things.

The Crimson grade was compiled of Unordinarys whose abilities revolved around fighting and offensive techniques. Enhanced strength, speed, and energy manipulation were common traits within Crimson.

Violet was the sole member of her grade and couldn’t remember the last time she had needed to use her number set to introduce herself.

Her powers were less definable, and she had monthly appointments at the lab to run tests as they tried to decipher exactly what made her skillset so rare.

As far as her official identity profile reported, she was an enhanced individual who possessed the power to manipulate others’ enhanced abilities as well as perception.

For example, during one battle she had concentrated her powers on a woman who had fire manipulation, and the flames turned to water droplets in her hands.

Another time, a man she was pitted against started swatting at his head and screaming about bats swarming around him.

The problem was that she could never seem to repeat the exact scenario; her power was inconsistent.

But that was okay for the time being. She had plenty of work to do from an administration perspective without going into the physical battlegrounds personally.

For instance, she had a pigeon menace to oversee.

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It was a peaceful day in the West Region’s headquarters.

Correction: it had been a peaceful day in the western region’s headquarters.

The calm was shattered abruptly by the piercing shrieks of the General as she fled her office, bowling over one or two people in the hallway as she ran, terror shading every feature in her face.

They had responded with pigeons.

Pigeons.

“Alright, listen up,” Ellie announced, striding into the conference room with as much dignified authority as could be managed with puffy, red eyes, horribly mussed hair, and a heaving rib cage.

“Tell everyone on border patrol to wear orange jackets.”

Twelve pairs of eyes blinked at her with a decided lack of surprise.

“You know the construction vests with the reflective strips? That’ll really get under her skin. She hates orange with a burning passion, and she’ll have to see it every time she checks the monitors.”

Ellie heaved a breath and plucked a grey feather from her hair, shivering as it brushed against her cheek.

Chills were still wracking down her spine, and if anyone thought she was prone to pettiness she’d ask them how they would like to have a jump-scare from two beady-eyed demons from Hell itself.

“And you know what? Stop any gummy bear imports to the East Region.”

One of the board members turned to mark it down on her tablet.

“Not all candies, just those. I’m not looking to breach the trade agreement. But don’t allow any gummy bears to enter that region.”

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The war continued.

The “heroes” stopped all gummy bear imports to the East Region, and the “villains” started wearing Mardi Gras masks.

The “heroes” won a large battle and took a large city away from the West Region, and the “villains” managed to cut all power to the East Region for a week.

One day a note appeared on Violet’s desk.

To Whom It May Aggravate,

I absolutely abhor what you’ve done with your hair. I hope you never come to an active battlefield again. What happened to the blonde? You know I loved it long and blonde! It was so pretty on you!

I’m going to have to plant an orchard along the border. A pear tree orchard just for you.

Your cherished inevitable downfall,

Ellie