Chase Hatter's Origin of Pangaea

Chapter Twenty Three

As Andrew peddled down the lonely road towards the army base camp, he was beginning to hear the chants of soldiers through heavy, pouring rain. Soon after, he found the camp littered with log cabins and obstacle courses. The scholar jumped off of his bike and wheeled it into camp, unaware of the resting group of three soldiers watching him from just outside their cabin.

"Hey!" One of the soldiers called out. It caught Andrew's attention and the soldier welcomed him over. "Hey, are you lost?" He asked.

"Not at all." Andrew announced. "I am here to speak to your highest ranking officer on the field. General Helmsley, I believe. Are they present?"

"General Helmsley? Yeah, he's around here somewhere. My name is Joel, by the way. Joel Mayer."

"Andrew Valentine. A pleasure to meet you, Joel."

As Andrew introduced himself, one of the soldiers beside Joel perked up. "Andrew Valentine?" He repeated. "The Andrew Valentine?"

"What are you talking about?" Joel asked.

"The DeWitt kid." The soldier explained. "Son of the war criminal, Jack Richards. Helmsley mentioned you'd be coming."

Several of the surrounding soldiers heard the announcement and began to listen in. Joel nudged his comrade.

"Well, who cares? That war is over. No one's bothering the Germans about World War II." Joel pointed out.

"That's because Hitler had the decency to kill himself and not reproduce." Said Joel's friend. "How does it feel to be raised by a psycho and a maniac? Does that mean you're extra fucked in the head?"

Andrew huffed. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Don't mind him, Andrew." Joel apologized. "It was a long time ago, but it's still fresh to some of us. I think it's just because you won... Or because of how Sharon Cassidy died."

Andrew took a deep breath. "Well then, you'll be happy to know that Pangaea has not forgotten about Sharon Cassidy either. That includes the man who killed her. Can you point me in the direction of General Helmsley? I'd like to wrap this up soon. I don't feel welcomed here." Joel pointed Andrew in the right direction and the scholar nodded and began on his way.

Andrew made his way deep into their camp in search of General Helmsley. This was it. The final task. After he met with Helmsley, he would be able to go to San Francisco, find Professor Riley, and return back to Pangaea. Only this time when he returned home, he would never leave again.

Andrew found his way to an administrative cabin, manned by a receptionist who didn't notice him as he strolled in. The scholar found an office with a promising name plate; General Seth Helmsley. He knocked and went inside. General Helmsley straightened up and stopped signing paperwork.

"What are you doing, private?"

"I am no soldier of yours." Andrew assured him. "I am the Pangaean you sent for. I believe you spoke with Professor Riley about my arrival."

"Ah, welcome then. I'm General Seth Helmsley."

"Andrew Valentine." The two shared a stiff handshake.

"Have a seat, Andrew." Andrew did just that. "Well then, let's get straight to the point. Professor Riley, was it? We spoke over the phone with Mr. DeWitt on the line. Congress wants to reduce the travel restrictions between Pangaea and the United States. Right now, it's very hard for researchers to get the right permissions to go and it's impossible for a normal citizen with no official business to travel there. I need you to leave me with the a copy of your penal codes and walk me through some of the penalties that may come up that are... out of the ordinary or unique to Pangaea. Do you have a copy of the penal code?"

"I do." Andrew said. He reached into his bag and pulled out a thick binder with the laws and penalties associated with Pangaea. Andrew laid the binder on the General's desk and he began to flip through it.

"It's not a tough read." Andrew began. "I should say first that Pangaea has many of the same rules that other nations have. We're not so different in that way. In fact, I would argue that Pangaea has less arbitrary laws for citizens and visitors to worry about breaking. What is different, however, is the punishment for consistent misbehavior. The Pangaea Police Department employs officers to handle normal mischief, including traffic stops and domestic problems. Any offense beyond that is handled by a group of specially trained detectives and assassins that are known in Pangaea as the Prowess Peepers."

Helmsley paused his note taking. "The what? Detectives and... assassins?"

"Yes." Andrew confirmed. "Detectives and assassins specially trained by a detective and an assassin. They operate twenty-four seven, around the clock. They hide in the shadows, waiting for a target or a call to arms. Your citizens should know that if they step foot in Pangaea with ill-intentions, then they will be hunted and shot down like wild animals. We will not contact family. We will not send their bodies back to be buried. An offender will disappear from the face of the Earth as if they never existed."

"Is that a threat?" Helmsley asked.

"You asked me to tell you what will happen to your citizens who are in direct violation of our laws. I'm only telling you."

"I can't let American citizens go to Pangaea with that in mind."

"I don't blame you." Andrew admitted. "Your citizens can't be trusted to behave. I've experienced that first hand in the last few months. I've met many of your citizens that would have landed themselves on the Prowess Peepers' hit list, including some of your soldiers outside."

"Well, then the border between us will remain closed until that changes."

"It won't." Andrew promised. "But I respect your decision. If you happen to change your mind, please contact Mr. DeWitt's office and set up a formal meeting to discuss terms."

General Helmsley and Andrew stood up. The two shook hands and before the scholar left his office, he bid him a farewell, one that he had given several times before. "Goodbye, General Helmsley. I hope to see you again in another lifetime."

On his way out of the cabin, Andrew pulled his Radio Cube out of his pocket and tapped it open. Pamela Watson's interview had long been over and now the five sat in a circle, exchanging their philosophies and ideas with one another. Amongst them all, Andrew heard a familiar one that had been burned into his brain since childhood.

"Never say goodbye!" Axel DeWitt insisted. "The end is never the end! One of your infinite lives will bring you back to someone you've met. So, don't say goodbye. Instead, tell them you will see them in another lifetime, because you most certainly will."

As Axel finished his statement, someone slapped the Radio Cube out of Andrew's hand and he watched it crash onto the concrete and shatter. The angry soldier from earlier shoved him to the ground and chuckled.

"Never say goodbye." He mocked. "Fucking traitor."

Andrew picked himself up and prepared to fight, but before he could throw a punch Joel and several other soldiers held them apart. Andrew pulled away from Joel and retreated into the camp. His mission of research and diplomacy had finally reached its end in the most poetic way possible; annoyed by an American soldier.