The Elitist Supremacy

by Niranjan K

  “I don’t know, but... she... she seemed interested in me,” Nolan's eyes were troubled as they met his. “Just before she left, she asked if my name was Nolan Patrick, and later Robyn Lynch, the head of our HR Department, told me she kept asking her about me. Personal things like details on Mom, and Dad, and you, and Ash.” Nolan paused. “Maybe it’s silly, but it sort of scared me.”

  “Was she scary?” Dylan asked, trying to make light of it, but Nolan gave him a sharp glance, so perhaps his attempted nonchalance wasn’t working.

  “She was to me.” Nolan said. “It’s just... I don’t know why she was even interested in me, you know. I mean, what have I done?”

  “Why must you assume the worst? Perhaps she’s attracted to you.”

  Nolan rolled his eyes.

  “She’s an Elite, the Head of all three divisions of law enforcement. I hardly think she takes casual interest in anyone. I’m just... I wish I knew why.”

  “As you said, you haven’t done anything, so there’s no reason for you to be scared or worried,” Dylan tried to reassure Nolan. “Perhaps she thought your name or face looked familiar, and wanted to confirm that you weren’t some criminal. I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical, non-scary explanation for her interest.”

  “I hope so,” Nolan muttered. “It’s just...” he stopped as if unsure of what to say next. Nolan had never been hesitant to tell him anything.

  “What is it?” Dylan asked anxiously.

  “Just a weird thought I had recently,” Nolan said. “You know, when I went to ask Mr. Selwood for permission to leave early on Ash’s birthday, I was thinking how strange it was that we have never invited anyone for our birthdays or Ash’s. It’s always family only. We’ve never attended any birthday parties either. We don’t even know our neighbours though Mom and Dad had been living there since before we were born.”

  “So, what are you saying?” Dylan asked, hoping Nolan wasn’t saying what he thought he was.

  “What if she was interested in me because I look like Dad?” Nolan asked. “What if that’s why she was asking all those questions about our parents?”

  “Why should she care about Dad?” Dylan asked, angrier than he thought. “Are you saying Dad’s a criminal?”

  “I don’t know,” Nolan said. “I just think it’s strange. I mean, he’s never worked that we know of. It was always mom working, and Dad sitting at home taking care of us. It’s not like he has any health issues either.”

  “They couldn’t afford to hire anyone to take care of us when we were young,” Dylan said. “And Dad said Mom was more qualified and more likely to get a better paying job.”

  “He used to help us with our homeworks, and projects,” Nolan said. “There was nothing he didn’t know. Don’t you remember?”

  Dylan didn’t like any of it. “I ask again, Nolan.” he said. “Do you think Dad’s some sort of criminal in hiding?”

  “I don’t know,” Nolan muttered. “Maybe.”

  Dylan stared at him, aghast. “You don’t mean that! This is Dad, the man who rescues every stray animal and takes it to the nearest shelter. The man who won’t even raise his voice, who took us to the park and bought us ice creams, who stayed at our sides when we were ill. This is our father you’re talking about, Nolan!”

  “He never got us any pets,” Nolan said. “Not even when Ashley cried and cried on her 10th birthday for one.”

  “Because Mom is allergic!” Dylan was becoming angrier. His twin was such an idiot. “Just because some Elite looked at you, you think Dad’s a criminal?”

  “If he isn’t, then it must be me,” Nolan said. “She was asking our head of HR about me, my parents, my siblings. Why, Dylan, would the head of law enforcement do something like that?”

  “I don’t know,” Dylan said. “Maybe she thought you were someone else. I mean, isn’t that more reasonable than assuming Dad’s some kind of wanted man?”

  “It makes me nervous to think that the Elite are after me.” Nolan said, sounding scared.

  “Hey,” Dylan put a hand on his brother’s. “No one is after you, okay? You’re overthinking this. Come on. You’re just an assistant to a rich guy. We’re almost nobodies. We haven’t ever done anything to warrant the Elite getting interested in us. Relax.”

  “You’re a famous painter,” Nolan said, smiling at him, though Dylan could see that it took an effort. “You’re not a nobody.”

  “Famous among whom?” Dylan rolled his eyes. “No one outside my gallery has even heard of me.”

  Nolan grinned. “Well, I had to say something,”

  “Better than having a crush on the boss,” Dylan winked at him over the rim of his glass before he took a sip of water.

  “Asshole,” Nolan said, but without heat.

  Twenty Four

  The day was bright and warm. George stood at the outer fringe of the small group of people at the cemetery. He was there in his official capacity, as a reporter, though it had surprised his editor. Jay had said he could send someone else. It wasn’t as if the death by natural causes of a top official in Selwood Corp was a proper enough story for George, no matter how pissed off Jay was at George. George had told him he wanted to cover the story, and here he was, in the only way he could be, without arousing suspicions.

  Thing was, George wasn’t yet certain that Martinez had died of natural causes. It was too much of a coincidence, Martinez’s death almost immediately after his message to George, especially since no one had questioned George about it. Despite the conclusion of death by natural causes, the Investigators would not have closed the case without questioning him about it. It was as if they weren’t even aware of the call. Which meant that someone had tampered with the Sentient, and that in its turn meant that Martinez’s death was not by natural causes.

  Of course, all of this was only speculation. After all, Martinez hadn’t talked to George, so perhaps the Investigators might have felt it didn’t need looking into. Besides, tampering with a Sentient without alerting the Investigators was nearly impossible, and to pass off a homicide as death by natural causes was completely so. Yet, there was a part of George that wasn’t fully satisfied.

  The mourners were mostly Martinez’s colleagues. Alexander Selwood was there, standing near the cremation tube, Raul on his right. George had once been to one of his press conferences which was how he knew him by sight. Isabel was sitting next to a brown haired young woman who was crying silently. George’s eyes lingered on her for a moment. Even crying, she was beautiful; flawless, creamy skin, wide eyes, a short nose, and silky looking brown hair. She was slender, and dressed in black, the clingy dress accentuating her curves. The shapely legs were crossed, and his eyes moved appreciatively over them, before he remembered why he was here. Talking to the girl might help in knowing more about Martinez, but considering the man lived a double life, he doubted if she knew him as well as she thought, whoever she was.

  He was aware of a feeling of anger coupled with irritation. He had spent a singularly futile fortnight on Hafi, trying to chase down the Blythe girl before finally accepting that she was no longer on the planet. He hadn’t met Colin, but had learned from other sources that the girl had disappeared not long after her parents’ death, and that she had stolen some money from her uncle. Colin had kept it quiet, but word had still got out among friends. No wonder Colin had been so secretive and defensive when asked about his niece.

  George wondered if his belief that Martinez was murdered had something to do with his desperation for a story. After all, the Investigators had concluded that it was a natural death, and the Doctor’s examination hadn’t turned up anything either. Perhaps it was all just a huge coincidence; the universe having a laugh at his expense. It wouldn't be a surprise, with the way his luck was going.

  His eyes moved to Selwood again. He was standing stone faced, his eyes fixed on the tube. Despite his height, Selwood always looked frail, probably because he was so slender. Standing next to Raul, he looked positively fragile. H
e wasn’t a handsome man, but he still drew the eye. If circumstances were different, George might have tried to hit on the man.

  George wished he knew what it was Martinez had wanted to tell him. If only he hadn’t gone to that damned planet, chasing after non-existent stories, he would have been here, and he would have known why Martinez had wanted to meet him. He could not shake off the feeling that it had something to do with Selwood. If Martinez was indeed murdered, Selwood was the obvious suspect.

  George grimaced. To him, Selwood was the obvious suspect because no matter what anyone said, he did believe that Selwood was a Rogue, and that Martinez knew it. So, if Martinez had called him that night to tell him the truth about Selwood, it made sense that Selwood would have wanted to get rid of him.

  The biggest problem with his theory was that Selwood had been on Ignis, probably on the flight home when Martinez had died. Unless Selwood had a form of teleportation that worked between planets, or some kind of magical ability, there was no way that he could have murdered Martinez. Even if Selwood had some secret teleportation technology, that didn’t explain the complete absence of any physical evidence of his presence. The Sentient had confirmed to the Investigators that Martinez was alone all day and night. The surveillance footage had shown no signs of tampering, and it had shown nothing except Martinez doing normal things and taking things easy after his return from Ignis. Martinez had woken up early morning on the day he had died, had drunk some water and collapsed. It was possible that the journey had been too much, but there was no story there, and it still didn’t give George a hint on why in hell had Martinez wanted to talk to him.

  He looked at Raul. Would the man be able to arrange for him to have a private word with Selwood? If he didn’t get even one quote out of Selwood, Jay wasn’t going to be happy. He was already skating on thin ice with the Hafi fiasco, and he didn’t want to cap it by doing a worse job than a society columnist, especially after volunteering for it.

  He wondered again if it would be possible for him to find the Blythe girl. He had a few good photographs, and even if they were all taken before her parents’ death, surely she wouldn’t have changed that much? From the money she’d taken, it was a safe guess that she was going to change her identity, but did she take enough for a new set of fingerprints and a new appearance, or for only one? If the latter, finding her was still possible. New appearances were not as effective as most people thought. The skin tone and bone structure remained the same. The only things that could change were the colour, facial features and hair. Of course, there were simulators that could change everything about the appearance, even the gender, but they were detectable when used continuously for longer periods, and no one who was serious about a new appearance would go for a simulator. If she’d changed her prints, finding her would be slightly more difficult, but still not impossible.

  He heard the hum of the cremation tube as it activated, and brought his attention to what was happening around him. He had to forget Hafi, forget the damn Blythe girl with her mischievous smile and laughing eyes and focus on the story he had now, even if it was only a funeral. His eyes caught Raul’s and he jerked his head to a side, indicating he wanted to talk in private. The people who were seated were getting up, and he sauntered to a side, waiting for Raul to join him.

  “George,” Raul greeted him.

  “I need to talk to Selwood. Can you arrange it?” He tried to sound casual.

  “Official or?” Raul’s gaze was sharp.

  “Tell him it’s official. He doesn’t yet know I’m part of the Resistance, does he?” George hoped so, anyway.

  Raul shook his head. “No, but he knows I am. So, it’s possible he’ll suspect you if I suggest it. If you want to keep that under wraps, it’s better you approach him yourself. After all, you’re an accredited member of the press.”

  “How did he find out about you?”

  Raul gave a sour smile. “Long story.”

  “Better let it keep,” he said, not having the patience for it right now. “Just one more thing. If he knew about you, did he know about Martinez too?”

  “That Sergio was part of the Resistance? It’s possible. Why?”

  George smiled. “Just asking,” he looked at where Selwood stood, talking to Isabel. “I heard you fixed a date. Congratulations.”

  “It’ll be commiserations if that damn vetting reveals anything.”

  “I thought we had a good tech guy.” George had never met Amir Rahal, but he’d heard enough to make him want to meet him.

  “We do, but still... it’s a frightening thing.” Raul didn’t look frightened, but George could understand his feelings.

  “Isabel planning to stay on after marriage?”

  “She’s given her notice. Once the vetting is completed to the State’s satisfaction, she’ll be free to quit.” The relief in Raul’s voice was palpable.

  George knew what Isabel did and he was glad she was leaving that. George still had nightmares from the very persistent lady who had visited his uncle every day for two weeks, trying to make him give up George’s guardianship to the State. She had visited him at school, offered him chocolates and had hinted at much better living conditions than was available with his uncle. All she did was frighten him so much he had started hiding from her. His uncle had not been the best of guardians, drunken and abusive as he had been, but George would still prefer him to the State.

  He’s dead now and I’m an adult.

  “I wanted to ask you something,” George said, pushing away the thoughts of his uncle. “Something odd. Sergio called me the day he came back from Ignis. I was on Hafi and didn’t get his message till I got back, but the Investigators didn’t question me at all.”

  “Are you complaining?” Raul looked amused.

  “No,” George said. “God, no. But, it just seemed odd.”

  “They probably thought it was a waste of their time since Sergio’s was a natural death,” Raul shook his head, his expression morphing into sorrow. “It’s so hard to believe he’s gone. The company doctor had recommended his retirement but Sergio had refused and Alexander had hired someone to be his deputy. Sergio said he had almost nothing to do except approve the decisions made by her.”

  “The weeping girl?” George asked. “And how do you know all this?”

  “No, not the weeping girl. The one sitting on her right, Lisa Cheng. I know because Sergio told Zain while he was on Ignis.”

  George couldn’t see her face, only her back as she had her face turned towards the weeping girl now and appeared to be holding her.

  “I wish I knew why Sergio called me,” he said, turning his gaze to Raul again.

  “To yell at you, I should think. Zain gave Sergio a modified lecture based on some wild theory you had about Selwood.”

  “Oh,” George said, “In that case I’m glad I missed his call.”

  Raul chuckled, but his eyes were bleak.

  “I better catch hold of Selwood before he leaves.” George said. “I’ve a feeling that members of the press are not going to be allowed at the wake.” He gave Raul a wink. “Your fiancé is approaching to rescue you from my clutches, I think. Gives me the perfect opening.”

  He made his way to Selwood, who was watching him with the same blank face that he had during the funeral.

  Twenty Five

  “Congratulations,” Alexander said, as he went up to Isabel. “Raul told me you’ve set a date for the wedding.”

  Isabel smiled at him. “Thank you, and yes, we have. I’ve also given my notice.”

  She looked quite relieved and much more relaxed than when he had seen her last. Obviously she hadn’t enjoyed her job. He wondered idly if she was good at it.

  “Good decision,” he said, “Has Raul been vetted yet?”

  He was in no hurry, in spite of the money he’d already invested. He had 7 centuries worth of savings to fall back on, and he’d always known how to make money. The Resistance, however, was anxious, and obviously impatient, as had alread
y been conveyed by the hints Raul gave him.

  A faint crease appeared between Isabel’s eyebrows.

  “They’ve started, but it’s not completed yet. I’m hoping everything will go well. Raul,” she lowered her voice, “has been really careful. I don’t think they’ll be able to connect him to anything,”

  “They’ll wonder what he’s doing here,” Alexander spoke, looking at Sergio’s creation tube.

  “They already know he has approached you for a collaboration. Why should they think anything amiss when he attends the funeral of an executive in your company?”

  “Because every one of my executives already know Raul was Sergio’s friend, and his presence here today ensures that the Investigators will be talking to everyone present here today. Usually, they would have talked only to me and to anyone else he might have directly come in contact with at the company. But since he came here and is talking to people, the State will ask them and will find out that Raul and Sergio were friends.” Alexander said patiently.

  He couldn’t blame her for not understanding. She might have worked for the State, but she had no experience about how vetting worked. Alexander’s mind flashed back to Zoey and Cooper, but he didn’t allow it to wander any further. It might have been three centuries ago, but the State still worked in the same ways, only with more ruthless efficiency than before.

  “By now, the State probably knows Sergio wasn’t who he claimed to be. So, Raul better have a good story ready about how he knew Sergio. Ever since he joined Selwood Corp and became Sergio Martinez, he’d been almost a recluse. He took no vacations, attended no social events and dated no one. So, where and when did Raul meet him? How did they become friends despite the disparity in their ages?”

  Isabel looked troubled. “We didn’t think coming here could have caused this many problems.”

  Of course. That was the problem. No one ever thought. Alexander sighed. He would have to ask his informant to see if he could do something about the surveillance footage on Raul today without tipping his hand.