Genocide

by Chad R. Odom

  “He wanted to show me his flowers.”

  “Then, you both leave the archway, and go into his home. Only a few minutes later, you dart out all alone without so much as a goodbye. I’ve seen this behavior before from him. First time I’ve seen it from you, but I recognize it. It seems you’re more like your father-in-law than your husband is.”

  Celeste felt anger rise and prepared her body for a fight. She was confident she could handle herself even though she hadn’t stretched those muscles in a long time. She also knew what Corvus was capable of. She had seen him practice with some of his trainees but more than that, it was Corvus who brought down the Quarter she had been rescued from. He was dangerous but so was she.

  Corvus stood still as a statue, staring deep into Celeste’s eyes. His eyes were cold and probing. He was digging at her, waiting for her to flinch, waiting for her to confirm anything he had said.

  Her will hardened. She stared right back, unwilling to give him even the slightest victory. She didn’t want any kind of physical altercation. If he touched her, he would have the wrath of Oryan to deal with. Perhaps he needed to be reminded of that. “Eldar is my friend. I’ll speak to him when and where I choose. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with my husband when he gets home.”

  Corvus backed down ever so slightly. “There’s always someone watching in this camp, Celeste. Not every ear is a friendly one. Be sure you choose your friends wisely.”

  He turned from her and began to walk back down the path. She exhaled as if she had been holding her breath for hours. Her shoulders dropped but she could still feel her heart pound in her temples.

  When she was sure he was out of sight, she retrieved the lens and scroll. She wanted to tell Oryan, but was gone and she was being watched. She suddenly felt like an animal backed into a corner. Even the walls of her own home might not be safe.

  As she warily wandered back to the camp, she began to see things as never before. Old, familiar faces suddenly seemed full of deceit. She took each glance her way as a prying eye watching her every move. Shadows were deeper to her and there was nowhere that didn’t feel exposed. A dark shroud had fallen over the camp. She had to talk to Armay again, but she had to do it away from here. If she was being watched, every word she said might be her last. If she discussed this openly with Oryan, it might mean the end of their lives and Asher’s. This had to be fast and it had to be discrete.

  As she meandered to Asher’s school, a plan began to form. When he came rushing to her side, she smiled and tucked the events of the day into her mind. Until she could figure it all out, she would go on as if everything was normal. Whatever that meant.

  Pulling at the Thread

  Celeste hadn’t come all this way for nothing, and she certainly wasn’t going to give up now. Luckily, Eldar knew where Armay’s last duty station was. She tried not to make the conversation too obvious, but she could be sure of nothing at this point.

  Eldar snuck her out and promised to cover for her. Rebekkah stayed at her home, which she did often, so it shouldn’t raise too much suspicion. Even with all her preparation, she had to move quickly. She wanted to be back by the time Oryan was. From what she could get from Sicari, that should be no more than a few weeks.

  Fortunately, one of the three teleportation nodes the Archides had placed was on the outskirts of Acamar, so, with Eldar’s help, she was there in the blink of an eye. However, Acamar was a huge city, like many others of its kind, and finding this place had proven a challenge. Yet, here she was, in a spot that had obviously changed significantly since the last time Armay stepped foot in it. She only hoped that, in all its renovations, what she was seeking wasn’t lost.

  She took the tour, making sure to soak in as much detail as she could, then found a secluded space where she could talk with the man who had sent her here. She placed the small lens on the ground and removed her necklace.

  She pulled the crystal from the necklace and placed it in the portable lens. She knew how to get to the sealed portion of the scroll, but once a scroll was sealed, nothing could be added to it or deleted from it, so she was likely to have to go through Armay’s questions again.

  The image of Armay came to life.

  “Ah, Celeste!” he exclaimed cheerfully. “Good to see you again!”

  “Likewise,” she replied.

  The look on Armay’s face became inquisitive. “We’re not in the camp anymore.”

  “No, we’re not. You told me to come here.”

  “I did?”

  She remembered the nuances. “Yes, I need access to the sealed portion of your scroll again.”

  The image of Armay shifted ever so slightly, aging him in a blink again.

  “Who are you?”

  “A friend.”

  “If you are a friend, state your purpose.”

  Celeste sighed and repeated her answers to the questions about his wife, Oryan, and the diamond.

  The pause. “That is correct. Who are you?”

  She repeated a few steps until she got to the point where she could get to the whole reason she had made this trip.

  “Well, you’re here. At your last duty station. So, where is your other scroll?”

  “The other scroll lies with one of the unknown soldiers stored in the vaults of the barracks.”

  “The barracks are gone. A church bought the building and converted it into a cathedral,” she informed him, hoping it wouldn’t throw him off.

  “That’s unfortunate. Are the vaults still here?”

  “Yes, but a few soldiers have been removed because their remains have been identified.”

  “What about the military personnel?”

  “Very few are left. They’ve been replaced by card access doors and cameras.”

  The image of Armay seemed to be thinking over possible solutions.

  “The staircase?”

  “Protected the same way.”

  More computing. Armay moved, letting the scroll display the schematics of the building itself. Before he could speak, Celeste informed him of the other changes.

  “There’s still a chance to recover the scroll,” Armay calculated.

  The schematics rotated and shifted to the roof. There, Armay pointed to a ventilation shaft. “The refrigeration units that keep the crypts at freezing temperatures generate a significant amount of heat. That escapes through here so the units don’t overheat.”

  “What do I have to do?”

  “The vent cover will need to be removed. The shaft itself is two feet by four feet, passes through the entire building, and then another one hundred feet below ground level.”

  Celeste estimated the distance. That meant she would have to squeeze through a vent barely big enough to accommodate her for four hundred feet. “Where does that get me?” she asked.

  “Into the generator room. Once inside, you can access the refrigeration units independently.”

  Celeste was beginning to feel her world shrink around her as if she were already stuck inside the shaft. “Any other cheery news I should be aware of?” she asked almost under her breath.

  “The shaft is eighty-six degrees at the roof and the temperature climbs the closer you get to the generators,” Armay said matter-of-factly.

  “How hot at the generator?”

  “Plus or minus one hundred and twenty degrees.”

  She sighed. Sweat was already beginning to form on her forehead. She had never done anything like this before. “I’d prefer fighting guards,” she muttered to herself. “At least I’d know what I was doing.”

  “Once inside, you need to locate Unknown 114, assuming his body hasn’t been relocated. The scroll is beneath his uniform, right hand breast side.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, there is something else with the Unknown, however. It is not in the same place as the scroll. This item is in his mouth. Take it from there.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry. My responses are limit
ed.”

  Armay hadn’t programmed the scroll to answer anything more about that topic and so, anytime it was asked a question it couldn’t answer, it reverted back to that statement.

  She considered the materials she would need to get in, the time required, how to get to the roof, and a hundred other variables she couldn’t quite balance yet. Finally, a thought struck her and she asked, “Once I’m in, how do I get out?”

  Armay’s response was immediate. “I’m sorry. My responses are limited.”

  She nodded a deflated acknowledgement. Hopefully the doors were only locked from the outside.

  ***

  Celeste took the tour again. This time, she went along with a different tour guide and she excused herself shortly after it started, feigning an emergency she had to leave for. She came in looking as much like a tourist as possible, backpack and all. Luckily, the crypts weren’t exactly a place that warranted an overabundance of security and none of the church staff were overly suspicious. So, when she disappeared from the tour group and yet never exited the front door, no one noticed.

  Celeste stayed out of sight until the building was closed, the staff had gone home, and the lights were dimmed. At that point, she made her way to the supply room. She held her breath as she broke the lock. There were no audible alarms, but the silent ones could have been triggered. Time was against her.

  Up the stairs to the roof, unslinging her pack and removing the pry bar, Celeste grabbed the latch and started to force the bar into the door jamb when the door simply opened. She hoped it was simple fortune, but she proceeded from the doorway with extreme caution. A voice stopped her cold.

  “I didn’t realize anyone appreciated this view as much as I did,” the voice declared.

  This had all gone according to her ill-conceived plan until now. Slowly, she turned her head to face the voice. An older, hardened man in a military uniform sat on the roof. A small, crumpled bag was next to him, with half-eaten food keeping it in place. One hand was close to the food, the other was resting on his side arm. His demeanor meant business, but he was as calm as his voice was.

  The door swung shut behind her and she jumped at the noise.

  “Must be your first time,” he remarked.

  She remained silent and still even as he stood up, hand on his pistol, and walked toward her. He shoved more food in his mouth, chewed for a moment, and then tucked it into his cheek. “Let’s see what you’ve got in here.” He removed the pack from her shoulder.

  He proceeded to dump the contents onto a raised, flat surface not far from where the door was. She wanted to bolt, but the man never looked away from her long enough for her to think she could make it. Even as he rummaged through the contents of her pack, he seemed to never lose sight of her.

  He finished cataloging her belongings and went back to his original perch, taking another mouthful of food and displayed a look of contemplation. After he had thoroughly chewed his food, he cleaned his teeth with his tongue.

  “Well, this is a mystery, isn’t it?” He picked his teeth with his fingernail. “The rope tells me you’re going to try some descent from the roof. Stupid by itself. The clothing choice makes me think you’re expecting to be really hot and really cold in the same trip. So, I can rule out a base jump from here. My guess would be you’re planning on making a trip down that vent,” he nodded toward the location of the refrigeration vent, “and breaking into the crypts of the unknowns. Am I right?”

  He took another dramatic pause and watched her face. She made no movement but she could feel her cheeks flush.

  “Yep,” he confirmed his own guess. “So, you want to get down there badly enough to pull a stunt like this and risk going to jail for a long time. The military sort of frowns on people breaking into their stuff, you know that, right?” Silence again.

  “The only thing I don’t know is: why.” He stood up and unclipped a small comm unit from his belt. After he did so, he began walking around her. “Here’s how this is going to go. I’m going to ask questions. You’re going to give me truthful answers. If you don’t, I make a call and you go away for a long time. Understand?”

  “How will you know if I’m being honest?” she asked him.

  “First of all, I ask the questions in this exercise. Secondly, despite the way in which we’re meeting, you don’t strike me as a person who’s real comfortable with this sort of thing. That means, you value your freedom and since you do, I’ll trust you to be honest.

  “Ready, set, here we go. My name is Major Tomlinson. What’s yours?”

  She hesitated but forced the answer through gritted teeth. “Celeste.”

  “Good. One down. Miss Celeste, what brings you to my rooftop on this chilly evening?”

  “Breaking into the crypts.”

  “Well played. Perhaps I need to be more specific. Why are you trying to break into the crypts?”

  “A friend sent me.”

  Tomlinson stopped his pacing in front of Celeste and gave her a curious look. “Doesn’t sound like much of a friend. Why would your friend send you into my crypts?”

  “He left something there.”

  “Why didn’t he come himself…or herself?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Uncomplicate it.”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Ah. One of those. You know, if you just tell the truth, it becomes believable pretty quick. It’s only when you try and embellish the truth that I use this radio and you can tell your story to a military interrogator. Let’s start from the top. What’s your friend’s name?”

  Celeste looked hard at Tomlinson. She was in a corner and knew she had to tell him what he wanted, but all she wanted to do was leave. She thought about hitting him, either in the throat or the crotch, and running away while he recovered. But, he still held that radio. She wouldn’t get far. She could take it after he was down but that meant getting within arm’s reach of a man she had just royally angered.

  “Can I just go?” she asked feebly. “I’ll pay for the damages to the door in the storage room, but I just want to leave.”

  “Oh, that’s not going to happen. Not yet, anyway. You can play ball with me or…” He tapped the comm again. “Tell me what I won’t believe, and we’ll see what happens from there. What’s your friend’s name?”

  Celeste’s shoulders sunk and she gave into his demands. Maybe after she explained it to him, he would have sympathy on the crazy girl and send her away.

  “His name’s Armay.”

  The Major stiffened. His look changed entirely and she could tell she had struck a nerve. “I know that name and I know that name and this place are linked. How do you know that name?”

  “I’m related. Distantly.”

  “He’s alive, then?”

  Celeste looked puzzled for a minute but quickly remembered his death was not public knowledge. “No. He’s gone.”

  The Major seemed sad but not surprised.

  Celeste noticed that her desire to flee had subsided. Now she was more curious as to the nature of this man’s relationship to Armay.

  “You knew him?” she asked softly.

  “Yes. I served with him for a long time.”

  “Then you know him better than I do.”

  Tomlinson looked into her eyes. “You say he’s gone. How did a dead man ask you to come here?”

  “I came across his…journal.”

  Tomlinson perked up slightly. “A journal? Did he mention me?”

  “Not that I’ve read. Sorry. He left some clues in there as to something important he left here, a long time ago.”

  “In unit 114?”

  Celeste’s mouth dropped open. “How did you…”

  “The last time I saw him was in this building. He told me someone would come looking for him and that they would ask about unit 114. He made me swear never to look myself. I kept my promise and made sure it wasn’t touched when the church started identifying the bodies.”

 
“What’s in there?” she asked.

  “As far as I know, a corpse. That’s it. Unless you know something I don’t.”

  “I told you, you wouldn’t believe me. Can you take me to the crypts?”

  Tomlinson stood up and straightened his uniform. “Why? You don’t want to use the vent anymore?”

  Celeste became painfully aware of where she was and what she had planned to do. Inspiration came to her aid. “Look. Take me to the crypt, to unit 114. Handcuff me if you have to. If I find something there, it’ll prove what I’ve said. If not, you can radio in whoever you want to take me away from here.”

  Tomlinson mulled the proposal and finally shrugged. “You were crazy enough to try getting to this through a vent with a rope that would’ve most likely snapped and killed you, so sure. What the hell.”

  Celeste smiled ear-to-ear and exhaled. “Thank you,” she said as he led her back down the stairs.

  He didn’t say much to her as they descended into the crypts. It was a relief to simply walk into the guarded elevator and not be slinking her way down a painfully hot shaft. He pressed the button to take them down a few floors, and the elevator began its descent.

  “You know, you could’ve just asked,” he said to her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The crypt isn’t exactly a top-secret facility. We guard it, but more out of duty than keeping state secrets.”

  She blushed slightly. “Would that have gotten me into unit 114?”

  He smiled at her. “No, but the pretty face helps.”

  The elevator stopped and the doors opened. She felt the cold air rush in. Beyond the doors was a small hallway that led to three rotating glass doors. Tomlinson stepped out and she followed. He moved down the door on the far right and scanned his badge again. There was a click and the door slid open.

  “It’s about to get pretty cold. Oxygen is kept low, too. We have to keep it that way to help preserve the bodies. Some of these soldiers are over a hundred years old. So, if you start to feel light-headed, speak up.” The two of them entered the door, and it sealed behind them before opening again on the other side. Her ears popped and she immediately felt as though each breath was taken through a straw.