by V. St. Clair
“It’s too much—I don’t know how to do any of this,” Shellina interrupted, looking haunted.
“Then appoint someone who does to help you,” he cut her off tersely, barely able to control his annoyance. No one seemed to find his brevity unusual; they probably expected him to be panicked and on-edge over the disappearance of Jessamine, and it would look suspicious if he was too calm.
“Don’t vent your feelings on her,” Darius said boldly. “She wasn’t trained for this.”
Damn it, yes she was, she just didn’t want to listen.
“My apologies, Vicerina,” Topher exhaled heavily. “I am distressed by the events of this evening. I need you to issue official orders so we can begin fixing this.”
She looked embarrassed and uncomfortable when she said, “Alright. Everyone, do what Topher says…”
Topher suppressed a grimace.
Well, I walked right into that one.
When he had told Shellina to have someone smarter advise her, he hadn’t been thinking of himself, nor had he meant for her to literally hand over control of the government to someone else.
The other Majors winced perceptibly at this massive loss of face. Shellina had no idea what a display of public weakness this was for her, or the true implication of what she just said.
“Shellina, you just told the assembled group of Provo-Major to take their orders from me. Do you understand this, and do you stand by those orders?” It was critical that he clarify this before anything else happened, or he could find himself on the chopping block on charges of trying to seize control of the government.
Shellina looked desperate when she said, “I trust you, Major. I stand by my orders.”
Topher turned to the group and said, “Reya, Andro—go find Nate and Pierce and begin the questioning in Tech. Lorna, round up Skye and Rolf and brief them on the events of tonight. I want them ready for a meeting of the General Assembly by tomorrow morning. Andrew and Dred, secure the building and organize a quick scan of the immediate surroundings for signs of Jessamine. Lara, divide up the others into teams of two and begin the coordinated search of the city and the Academy. Gareth, you’re with me. Sleep schedules will switch to Level-1 emergency mode, by ID. Vacations and days off are cancelled until further notice. Anything to add, Vicerina?” he turned to Shellina.
Shellina looked slightly more resolved as she nodded and said, “You have your orders, Majors. You are dismissed.”
The others looked variously unhappy about having Topher call the shots and pleased at finally having something productive to do. Topher summoned the first elevator, and he and Gareth were speeding downwards while the others were breaking up for their various tasks.
“What an absolute shit-show,” Gareth groaned, slumping against the wall in his armor as they sped downwards, looking haggard. There was dried blood spattered on his neck and in his hair. “Where are we going, by the way?”
“I want to see Hanna and the Viceroy for myself, before anything else happens.” He couldn’t accept the death of the man he’d been serving for the last ten years without seeing it with his own eyes. And Jessamine would want to know about Hanna as soon as she heard the news.
They stopped on the two-hundred-and-fiftieth floor and departed the elevator. Unlike most areas of the building at this time of night, two-fifty was well-lit and fully-staffed. This was where high-ranking members of the Augenspire received emergency medical treatment, so the floor served as a fully-functioning hospital wing.
The receptionist greeted them with wide eyes, jumping to her feet as she saw them enter.
Of course. She would have seen the Viceroy and Hanna brought in. She knows he’s dead.
Had anyone thought to brief the medical staff here on the official story until they had a plan for how to explain everything? Hell, did they even have an official story yet? This was what Shellina should have been doing for the last few hours.
Topher squared his shoulders, determined to see this through the way Jessamine would have wanted and said, “How many patients are on this floor tonight?”
“There are six in total, Majors. Two doctors, four nurses, and one general surgeon, in addition to myself and two other administrative assistants.”
God-bless this woman, she knew what he was really asking and why he was asking it. Topher took a moment to be grateful for well-trained government employees.
“We’ll need to speak to everyone except for the patients, if they can be spared.”
“I understand. It will take me about five minutes to get a hold of everyone and get them all together.”
“Thank you. Where are Hanna and the Viceroy located?”
The woman looked somber when she said, “The Assistant to the Vicerina—” she paused here to consider the change in Jessamine’s title, before plowing on valiantly, “—is in room five, around the corner. The Viceroy is in room six, beside it.” After a moment of hesitation she added, “Major Parl is in room one.”
Topher had completely forgotten about Parl in all of this, and was momentarily alarmed to learn he was being kept in the same place as Hanna and the Viceroy. Gareth flinched beside him, his hands tensing into fists.
They must not know he is a traitor yet...
“Thank you,” Gareth and Topher said at the same time, moving down the hall to the rooms she had indicated. Gareth kept his armor as muted as possible, which Topher appreciated, because he was starting to get an adrenaline headache.
They visited the Viceroy first.
Topher inhaled sharply at the sight of him lying there in bed, his body placed neatly on top of the sheets. He was unmistakably dead, though someone had taken care to clean him up and place his military insignias on his shirt. The sight of it, the finality of it, was overwhelming, and Topher sucked in a deep breath to stave off tears, staring at the man he had held in such high regard for all these years.
Gareth remained in the doorway.
After a minute of inaction, Topher blinked and turned away from the Viceroy for the last time, closing the door behind him and moving to the next room to see Hanna.
I’m sorry I failed you, Excellency. I will do better for your daughter.
“I wish to hell I had been faster at disposing of Parl,” Gareth muttered beside him. “I tried to keep him alive to interrogate, but I’m not sure he’ll make it, even with the doctors here doing their best.”
“Don’t blame yourself. You were the one on the spot, and you did as well as anyone could have—better than most, actually. Parl is a slick fighter, and you kept him from finishing off Hanna and getting away clean with the murders. You raised the alarm, or the rest of us wouldn’t have known anything was wrong until morning.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough.”
“It didn’t feel like enough when Jessamine took a back full of razor-spikes in front of me, either,” Topher admitted. “I don’t suppose it will ever be enough. All we can do is our best.”
Gareth nodded as they entered Hanna’s room.
Topher frowned at the sight of her there, sprawled out in bed with an oxygen tube down her throat and bandages around her middle. IV lines were tied together, feeding into either arm, and she was clearly sedated. Hanna had been with Jessamine since she was a little girl, and Topher had come to know and accept her as a solid and ever-present force in the Vicerina’s life. It felt indecent to see her in such pitiable condition.
“Her vitals appear stable,” Gareth remarked, reading off of the screens. “I assume she’s cleared surgery by now, which is a good sign. I don’t guess there is anything to do but wait and see if she recovers.”
Topher nodded.
“Time to see if Parl’s still alive,” he sighed, clenching his fists to release some of his rage as he walked calmly down the hall to room number one. He wasn’t sure he would have had the presence of mind to try to keep Parl alive for interrogation, were he in Gareth’s place, and admired the man all the more for it.
They exchanged a glance before pu
shing the door open in unison. Parl was lying on the bed without restraints, though he was hooked up to enough monitors that Topher could tell there was little risk of him getting up anytime soon. His skin was a waxy, grey color, and he was sweating profusely despite the coolness of the room. Iodine was smeared across his chest and arms, where the medical staff had wiped him down before operating on him, and his face still had dried blood spattered across it.
The Viceroy’s blood, Topher realized in alarm.
Gareth approached the bed warily, looking tempted to finish what he’d started a few hours earlier.
“Jessamine will want him alive for questioning,” Topher reminded him gently, though he was inwardly screaming support for murdering Parl right now.
“It might not matter what Jessamine wants,” Gareth observed flatly, gesturing to one of the monitors. “He’s in a bad way. He may not make it.”
Rather than acknowledge this, Topher approached the bed and began binding Parl to it at the wrists and ankles, while Gareth systematically removed all of Parl’s weapons and Talents from his belt.
“We’re going to have a hell of a time explaining why we need to keep him restrained, especially when he starts talking. How are we going to stop anyone from releasing him without telling them what a traitor he is?” Gareth asked.
Topher narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
“There’s one way to keep a Major silent and cooperative.”
The silence spiraled horribly for a moment before Gareth said, “Dark Talents haven’t been used in decades.”
“He murdered the Viceroy.”
Gareth made an abortive gesture to cede the point and said, “We’ll need Jessamine or Shellina’s access codes to get them.”
“I imagine they’ll be willing to oblige.” Topher stared at Parl for another long moment before abruptly turning his back on him.
“Let’s go meet with the others. We need to tell them something official to prevent this from spreading like wildfire through the building until Jessamine gives us orders.”
“They work in a hospital; they’re used to keeping things confidential,” Gareth pointed out. “I doubt they’ve run gossiping to anyone just yet.”
“True,” Topher acknowledged. “But for something of this magnitude, we must be certain.”
“Well then, go and tell them something.” Gareth gestured tiredly for him to lead the way.
He’s going to need to sleep soon. He’s exerted himself harder than anyone tonight, and the loss of the Viceroy is sitting heavier with him than with most.
“What should I say?” Topher asked helplessly, feeling quite fatigued himself as his adrenaline petered out. It was the middle of the night and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could sustain this momentum.
“You’re the one running this circus right now, so I guess it’s your call.” He shrugged.
It was true. Shellina had officially appointed him as the de facto leader of the government, whether she understood the full implications of it or not. If he was an ambitious man, he could use it to make a case for setting her aside and becoming a Viceregal himself.
Fortunately, I’m not ambitious, but damn it—Shellina needs to learn that her words have weight. She can’t just blithely put someone else in charge every time she gets scared.
Topher sighed and went to meet with the assembled medical personnel, who were all clustered together in their breakroom. They looked unhappy and uncertain as he acknowledged them.
How the hell am I going to explain this?
“By now you all know about the terrible tragedy that has befallen us tonight,” he began. “Viceroy Roald is dead, and his heir is now Vicereine-elect.”
“Major?” A man raised his hand timidly. “The Viceroy’s wound—the cause of death—was it…accidental?”
You mean, did he commit suicide or was he murdered? The man could hardly have slit his entire throat while shaving, so they all knew it was one or the other.
“The wound was not self-inflicted,” he acknowledged, wishing he’d had time to prepare a proper statement about how to explain this. “At this time the investigation is underway, and I can’t reveal any further details regarding the nature of his death. Major Parl is to be confined to his bed at all times, and I want to be notified immediately if he awakens. Hanna is considered a protected witness, and any questioning of her that is not strictly related to her medical care will result in prosecution.” It was important that no one interrogate Hanna before he could speak to her and make sure they got their stories straight.
The others nodded uneasy understanding of this, a few of them startled by the news about Parl being confined to his bed. They were used to treating people with top-level security clearance so they knew not to pry, but a few of them looked desperately curious as to why a top member of the government was being restrained.
“It goes without saying that none of this leaves this floor. Your other patients will hear nothing of this, and you will not speak of it amongst yourselves until an official announcement has been made to the building. I trust you all to treat this with the highest level of confidence possible, or else—well, you know the alternative.”
A terrible, horrible death.
“What if someone comes asking about the late-Viceroy, or about Hanna and the Major?” someone asked hesitantly.
Topher considered this for a minute.
“Everyone who needs to know about the Viceroy’s status is already aware of it, so treat anyone else as an outsider and tell them he is not here. The same can be said of Hanna, though if a member of the Provo-Major requests a status update on her recovery, you may inform them of her condition. No one is cleared to see her or Parl—including my peers—with the exception of myself, Gareth, and Vicerina Shellina until you hear otherwise.” It’s not like he could effectively bar the Vicerina from Parl or Hanna’s room if she wanted to visit, though he doubted she would.
“Do you speak with Vicereine-elect Jessamine’s authority?” one of them asked. It was a fair question, since under normal conditions he didn’t have the ability to ban his peers from anything.
“At present, Vicerina Shellina is in command of this building, and she has delegated her authority to me in matters pertaining to this investigation. She will be transmitting her orders officially to you when communications are restored.”
There were some raised eyebrows at this, as they wondered what had happened to Jessamine if her sister was currently in charge of the Augenspire. Too late, Topher realized they probably hadn’t been aware of the communication systems being shut down before he told them.
Damn, I’m getting sloppy.
“I…understand, Major.”
Topher was glad they weren’t questioning him further, but hated that he had to bar his peers from visiting Hanna. Now the staff here would know there was a problem within the Provo-Major itself, but Topher couldn’t risk someone coming down here to finish Hanna off. She would need to testify if they ever found someone to put on trial, and she was of great personal importance to Jessamine and could not be risked.
Then again, if one us came down here in our heavies, hell-bent on killing Hanna, none of these people could stop them.
Topher would have to put a security detail on the floor, but figuring out who he could trust to do it was beyond him at the moment. He hoped Parl and Fox were the worst betrayals they would have to contend with, but the last thing he wanted to do was station one of their allies outside Hanna and Parl’s doors.
“Thank you, that is all. Call my personal number if Hanna’s condition changes.”
He left them, motioning Gareth back into the elevator heading upwards.
“Get some rest. One of us is going to need our wits by tomorrow.”
Gareth raised an eyebrow at him and said, “Is that an order?”
“If it must be, then yes,” Topher sighed.
“You need to rest, too.”
“Everyone will be expecting me to hunt down Jessamine.”
&n
bsp; “Yes, but they know you’ll be forced to stay behind, since you’re calling the shots right now. They’ll expect you to be furious about the position you’ve wound up in, but to do it with your usual aplomb.”
Topher hoped Gareth was right, because he was running on empty and could really use a few hours of sleep. He would have spent the day napping if he had known how much would be required of him tonight.
“You’re probably right,” he yawned, departing the elevator at two-ninety-eight along with Gareth and heading towards his room. “See you in a few hours.”
“Hopefully things look better in the morning.” Gareth waved him off and shut the door behind himself.
Things looked worse in the morning.
Topher forced himself back into action in time to make it to the meeting with the General Assembly, where Shellina gave a passable explanation of the death of her father and her sister’s disappearance. Topher could detect Ground-Leader Skye’s words in her responses, and was glad that at least someone else was helping coach her; he simply didn’t have the energy to spare.
He wore his light armor, mostly because his heavies were still in his mother’s basement, but ostensibly because he was confined to the Augenspire, helping Shellina and Darius. A few members of the General Assembly panicked at Jessamine’s absence and were pushing to declare Shellina the Vicereine-elect right then and there, fearing instability from a lack of clear leadership. Thankfully, cooler heads talked Shellina out of allowing this, and Topher spent the rest of the day visiting different members of the General Assembly to allay their fears and assure them that everything was under control, even though it wasn’t.
The only bright spot to his day was when he got to see Hanna again. This time she was conscious and had her breathing tube out, though her voice was hoarse so she wasn’t allowed to speak to him for long. She confirmed her visit to the Viceroy the previous night to tell him Topher thought there might be trouble. The Viceroy had trusted Topher’s intuition enough to call for a guard without knowing any of the reasons why he was concerned.
