Rise of the Syndicate

by Drew Avera

  The immediate threat to my plans was gone. At least for now.

  "How can I help you?" a chilling voice asked on the other end of the line. Speaking to these people sent shivers down my spine. They were hardly human based on my experiences in dealing with them. Some government projects were ended due to a breach of ethics. Some were resuscitated because it was easier to hide the funding through laundering than to have an acknowledged government science program mutilating people to see what they could create. My hands were hardly clean in any of this, but it still creeped me out.

  "You can start with telling me what the hell happened. Halem was supposed to take the fall, not get released and come knocking on my door with his suspicions of my involvement. I pay you to keep this kind of thing air-tight," I said after collecting my thoughts. My words bit as I spoke, and I was on the verge of shouting. I had no remorse as the cracks in the original plan splintered wider before my eyes. Halem was smart enough to reverse engineer the events leading to his wife's death. The last thing I needed was for him to have that opportunity.

  "We believe our agent may have been compromised. We are receiving reports from our inside man in the Guard that Halem saw the agent and believes him responsible. They had nothing to hold him on—"

  "Don't give me that line. They released him before the seventy-two-hour window was over. Did your agent compromise himself, and if so, what do you plan to do about it?" I felt my heart beat harder. If the mission was compromised the agent was instructed to abort. This was the kind of situation that could destroy everything I worked for, which was why I instructed Castor to leave for Clenist before he hung up on me and became unreachable.

  I should have trusted my better judgment then, not wait for this situation to get out of hand. I could have had the agent silenced while he was still traceable. The tide was rising and despite the fact Halem had no proof of my involvement, I felt my authority in this community already slipping. I had ways of safeguarding myself, but regardless, it would be a stain on my reputation. Something I did not take lightly.

  "Castor has not checked in with us."

  I didn't think he would after last night, I thought. "Then go after him and find out," I snapped. The fact I had to force-feed the next step in the plan shook my confidence in the Agency. They should be all over this.

  "It's not that easy. He was the patsy. He had orders to make his way to Clenist once the job was done. If he followed through, then we don't have the resources to spend on tracking him down. Besides, he knows how to disappear. Everything will be fine."

  The blatant disregard for how this situation could come back to bite me in the ass from an Agency I paid good money to have on my side felt like a slap in the face. "So, you're leaving me out to dry? Is that it? I was guaranteed that this would not interfere with Council affairs. Instead, this has become a distraction and I expect you to do something about it."

  I heard an audible breath and some whispering on the other end of the line before the anonymous voice returned. "We'll handle it."

  "How will you handle it? Halem has already talked to the Guard. By now, their reports are hitting the local precincts seeking help with the investigation into your agent. This is not going to be an easy cleanup and I refuse to be involved in bailing you out…again."

  "Don't worry, sir. We have it for action."

  "Be sure you do," I said, slapping the receiver back into place with a huff. My faith in the works of those I employed grew weaker by the second. All I wanted was for the barriers preventing my legacy from coming to fruition to be silenced. Now, I felt as if my ambitions would become my undoing. "Have faith in the plan," I muttered, thinking about how my father would have dealt with similar situations. He passed down a lot to me before I was brought into the World Council. Unfortunately, nothing he taught me could prepare me for stakes this high.

  A knock at the door stirred me from my thoughts and I rose to answer it, only to have the door open a moment later as Cherum stepped in, his face flush and his eyes red. "Some morning," he said casually before plopping into the seat in front of me. "You would think the dome was falling down around us the way people are acting. Conspiracy is in the air today."

  "You know about Scrimpshire?" I asked, knowing that he did. Otherwise, he would not be in my office trying to stir the pot.

  "Who doesn't?" He replied, crossing one leg over the other as he smirked his know-it-all grin at me. "I told you your ways were too barbaric to get away with. Of course, you never listen." His reminder of the previous night's conversation was not lost on me, nor was it appreciated. I did what I had to out of necessity of the cause. I would do it again knowing the risk.

  "And your point? It's not like I can go back in time to keep things from getting out of hand. All I can do is damage control at this point. Besides, it's being handled." I looked away from him and back at the security camera, quietly anticipating Halem to burst forth from the elevator, hell-bent on exacting whatever revenge he felt justified with. He would never make it to my office, but that fact did little to settle my nerves. Dealing with the unhinged was not my forte.

  "I hope you're right. We can't afford the publicity," Cherum said. As if I didn't already know that.

  "To hell with publicity, Cherum," I snapped. "This is going to come back on us hard. Are you prepared to deal with it?"

  "Us?" he asked, leaning forward in his seat with his jaw slack. His charismatic way of appearing trouble-free fell victim to his sudden reality check and I watched it put him on edge and off balance. "I had nothing to do with this." His voice rose in pitch as he spoke.

  "Sure, you did," I replied. "You might not know it, but you were there." I felt like I was pulling the wool from his eyes too soon, but my response was on the tip of my tongue ever since he virtue-signaled me on getting involved with the Agency. His arrogance in the matter simply justified my doing so in my opinion. Now was no different.

  He stood and approached, his shoulders rising with his rampant breathing as he stalked forward. "How so?" The panic in his eyes satisfied me in ways I had not imagined. "What did you do?"

  His question drew a grin from me as it was my turn to stand in opposition to him. The previous night's gloating switched sides and I could tell he knew it. "Technology has come a long way, Cherum. Let's just say I wore your suit to the meeting."

  "Meaning what?"

  "Meaning I impersonated you. I did it so I could put some distance between my involvement and this getting out of my control. You see, my concern right now is to keep you from getting pulled down with the sinking ship. I still have plenty of breathing room. For now, at least."

  "You son of a—"

  "Careful," I warned. "It isn't a good idea to bite the hand that feeds you. Or the one that is trying to protect you, currently."

  "What am I supposed to do with this looming over my head? You set me up to take the fall for you?"

  "Potentially. But I'm also the best person to help prevent it from happening. Could I have trusted you to do the same for me?"

  "Of course. I would have done anything," Cherum said. I didn't doubt his enthusiasm in the least, but I did doubt whether he had the ability to pull something like this off. As far as I was concerned, he would have conspired for Marada's murder and then waved a giant flag declaring he did it. "You know I always have your back."

  "And you did without having to lift a finger."

  His eyes grew wide. A mix of fear and contempt. I knew he would hate me when he found out, but I needed the buffer to ensure things went as I planned. I also knew Cherum would act the part because he knew his life was on the line if he didn't.

  My deceit was the worst kind of power play. I forced him into this situation with no way out. This was the type of conspiracy that put me in the same category as Brutus in ancient Rome. Would I stab my own friend in the back to ensure I came into power?

  Without question, I would.

  14

  Castor

  The pain I experienced earlier subs
ided, but anxiety threw me into the clutches of a panic attack. Being cooped up in my tiny apartment, with nothing to do except reflect on the previous night, made it feel as if the walls were closing in on me. I felt like I was drowning, a sensation that felt so real that I had no choice but to give into the fight-or-flight ravaging my body. Both sides of my mind warred with each other, and the only person it hurt was me.

  I decided to leave my personal prison and walk it off, taking a route in the cramped alleyways of what was known as Outer Downtown. The low ramps leading up to Inner Downtown kept the area dark and dreary regardless of the time of day. It was easy to disappear here, to lose yourself in the shadows. It quietened the shrill voice echoing in my thoughts, fighting to be set free from the damnable captivity I had been subjected to.

  Years ago, Outer Downtown thrived on the bustling construction of the inner circle creating Archea. The nearer to center you went, the more fertile the soil became, and a vivacious garden served as both a city park and as a means to create sustenance for the ever-growing population. Those with money moved inward towards the garden, while the outer rim of Archea seemingly fell to ruin by a lack of interest.

  That's what happened when social standing was more important than sustaining the society which created it. It was only a matter of time before permanent solutions would be implemented in the area to cut down on the growing crime rate. That was if the governing officials pulled their heads out of the pockets of investors long enough to take a breath and revive their dying brains to understand this travesty was their doing. Putting multi-billion-dollar projects before the failing infrastructure was akin to putting a nail in one's own coffin. As best I could tell, they were too ignorant to see it, and that would be the ruin of us all.

  My part in the coming devastation still haunted me every time I turned around.

  I took the next corner and strolled down another dark alley, the sound of loud music jutting out from a bar up ahead. The smell of dank tobacco laced with marijuana tickled my nostrils. It stank, mostly because it was low-grade synthetic and had the obnoxious aroma of chemicals mixed into it. Not that it mattered. Mind altering drugs were never a priority for me. Neither in this life nor the previous one. The wealthy hardly partook either, using augmentations to stimulate their brain activity and release a steady dose of dopamine whenever they wanted.

  It was those who could not afford a better life who succumbed to putting poisons into their body. But who was I to judge? At least they had the means to alter their mind without being subjected to further torment.

  The closer I came to the bar, the stronger the stench became. I tried to hold my breath to get the wave of nausea abated, but a voice drew my attention away from my obsessive focus.

  "You shouldn't be here. You had orders," the voice said. I recognized it immediately and my heart rate increased proportionally to my growing anxiety.

  "Neither should you, Voda," I replied, canting my head towards the dark corner where his voice originated. We had a long history together, both of us hatched from the same programming. A Frankenstein-like abomination of broken humanity built on blood money and cruel deals. We recognized it for what it was, but it did little to sway us from the destiny we were manipulated into believing. It was a veil of a lie we had no choice but to accept. The dichotomy of our existence mocked us with each passing day.

  Voda stepped out of the shadows with a low caliber weapon protruding from his hand. The barrel pointed downward, impotent. I stared at it, knowing exactly how he intended on using it, my eyes unmoving until he spoke again. "Why did you not report to Clenist as soon as your contract was complete?"

  "Why does a dog sniff its own excrement?" I replied. It was a phrase learned in our early training. A simple psychology lesson to teach us about human behavior. I knew how he would answer it.

  "Curiosity, or maybe you just like your own stench," Voda said.

  "You got me," I said, shrugging my shoulders in time with the music reverberating off the walls of the alley. "What do you want?"

  Voda tapped the barrel of the gun against his thigh nervously. I could tell how uncomfortable he'd become after confronting me. Neither of us wanted to take a life, but there was no choice in our actions. We just carried out the plan as if we were being controlled by an outside entity. "Why do you think?" he asked, the tapping of the barrel increasing in pace until he took notice of it. He stopped and looked past me, the thousand-yard stare of a person on the brink of breaking. His body language did not sit well with me. "You were compromised."

  I stood stark still and waited for him to continue. I could have denied it, but what would be the point? He obviously had more intel than I did. Besides, a certain part of me wanted to be compromised. It was a self-fulfilled prophecy. If I was compromised, then I would be forced to be recycled. A sweet end to this life.

  "So, you don't deny it?" Voda asked. His head leaned to one side as if he was listening to something just loud enough to be noticed. A radio transmission I assumed.

  "What is there to deny. You said I was compromised, so it must be true. What am I supposed to do about it?" The looming accusation hung in the air like a guillotine waiting to fall on me. All he wanted was an admission of guilt, but he would not get it from me. I wished I could say I was surprised by this encounter, but a part of me anticipated it, almost willed it to exist.

  "Halem was released by the Guard. He described you to the investigators and now they are searching for you." The statement fell from his lips as if they had been programmed to be said in advance. There was no emotion behind them at all.

  "So, I guess I should disappear to Clenist as soon as possible as planned," I replied. A part of me knew this would not be that easy. But what would it hurt to try and make a clean break? Either way, I would be gone. The part of me which wanted to die was far less in control than my will to live.

  Voda refused to answer. Instead, two more sets of footsteps approached from behind me. I turned my head enough to look over my shoulder to see them coming. Two more prospects for the Agency, still too awkward in their own bodies to act stealthily. It was not a perfect science, yet the Agency saw no issue in sending out the fresh meat. The situation reeked of desperation.

  "It's too late for that, Castor," Voda said once the others stopped. Suddenly, the alley was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Or at least it felt that way as I homed in on the threat seconds away from pouncing towards me.

  "Is it? It seems that a decision was made before you arrived. By my calculation, my being in Clenist would disrupt any investigation the Guard wanted to mount. They would not expend the resources when a suitable suspect is within their reach. Who ordered you to carry out this hit?" I didn't know how I knew what I said could be true, but the widening of Voda's eyes was answer enough for me to know I was onto something. I couldn't help but feel I was walking into a predestined trap. Somehow, I doubted Pontiff Cherum's involvement.

  "You've been excommunicated, Castor. It's time for you to go," Voda said with a nod. His unceremonious dismissal of my life fell like a hushed breath. It sounded as if he forced it from his lips against his will. But I did not have time to dwell on it. Within seconds, the two agents leaped towards me, armed with the same low caliber guns that Voda carried.

  The only way for the bullets to kill me was for them to fire at point-blank range. The projectiles were crafted into a plastic polymer to prevent damage to the dome that maintained Archea's breathable air. Unless it was up close and personal, they couldn't kill me, but it would hurt like hell. They may as well have been trying to kill me with wooden spoons for as long as it would take to get me to give in and let them take me out.

  As soon as they were within reach, I turned and slammed my fist into the first one's nose with all my weight. I felt cartilage crumple as I drove every bone in his face back with brutal force. It was like striking a wet sponge. I pulled back just in time for a bullet to glance my forehead and hit Voda in the shoulder. Through the corner of my eye, I watched as h
e did not flinch. Instead, he stood still and emotionless. Almost dead to the world.

  "I'll kill each of you if you don't call this off," I seethed. My breathing grew heavy as I lunged towards the second agent while the other lay sprawled out on the ground, blood oozing into tiny bubbles where his face used to be.

  I set about dispatching the second agent, my arms clasped around his neck and my leg dug into his back as I yanked up. The bones of his neck separated enough to fracture his spinal cord. His body went limp in my grip and I let him drop to the ground, preparing for Voda to descend on me to finish the kill.

  Instead, I heard a sound like marching. It was at that moment I turned to see more prospects flooding into the narrow alley.

  I only had one way out.

  Through Voda.

  15

  Halem

  My jaw hurt from clenching as I walked back to the apartment Marada and I once shared. I could smell her perfume as I eased the door open, paranoid someone would be waiting for me. There was nothing but quiet emptiness.

  A suitable metaphor for the rest of my life.

  I ran my hand along the textured wall of the living room leading to the kitchen. My thoughts drifted to our first anniversary when Marada spent several hours cooking a meal that neither of us could share with the family we left behind. I remembered holding her in my arms as she cried herself to sleep, not for anything I had done, but for the life we would no longer be able to share with the ones we wanted to share it with. Her sadness became mine that night, as I felt her tremble between sobs. I swore I would make it worth her while. I wanted her to believe I was worthy to have her sacrifice her family to live with me.