by S A Shaffer
“Time to go!” Francisco said and he lifted David by his shoulders. David heard guards yelling from below as he turned to run. He even saw one poking his head up to the roof of the penthouse. Several gunshots rang out just as David and Francisco leapt from the rooftop and dove into empty air. David heard the shots whiz by his head, but then gravity overtook him, and he fell face first toward the forest floor.
He kept his body straight as the wind whistled in his ears, a sound tainted with pain and turmoil. He could almost hear his mother’s screams and see his father disappear into roiling flames. David shuddered and gritted his teeth. The resort’s main floor grew larger by the millisecond. At the last possible moment, he and Francisco pulled their ripcords and inflated their secondary life balloons. David felt his body jerk with the counter force and slow considerably. He landed on the boardwalk with no more impact than if he’d dropped a fathom’s distance. He followed Francisco’s lead and shrugged off the secondary balloon. Then, they ran.
Guards poured out of every doorway and blocked every entrance. David and Francisco’s only advantage was that nobody knew what they looked like or what level of the resort they were on. All at once, Francisco leapt off the boardwalk and started climbing the everpine that held it up. David hesitated for an instant, but hearing boots thud on the boardwalk behind, he swallowed his fear and jumped. There was a moment where he hung in the air that separated the boardwalk and the tree. He saw between the gap and the darkness below, then his hands felt bark and he gripped with all his might. The spikes on his gloves and shoes dug into the tree, and he found that climbing the knobby bark was far easier than he’d originally thought. He used his ebony arm to his advantage, and after a moment he’d caught up with Francisco. The guards ran by on the boardwalk below without ever looking up. After about 30 feet of climbing, they swung over a ledge onto some scaffolding. David ran to the door marked Service Entrance and tried the latch.
“It’s locked.” David said in a whisper.
“David, you have an ebony hand. Unlock it.”
David looked down at his arm and then comprehended. He put a few fingers between the door and the frame and bent the frame just enough that the latch swung free. The two of them slipped through, and Francisco placed some foliage in the doorframe so the door would stay closed. A moment later, they ran down a hallway with suite doors along one side. Francisco grabbed David by the arm and pulled him to a stop. David looked at him with wide eyes.
“This isn’t my room.” He said as Francisco fumbled with a lock pick.
David saw the shadow of guards approaching from around the next corner. At the last possible moment, the door swung open, and Francisco shoved David inside before closing it as quietly as he could and locking it. David stood in the middle of the room holding his breath until the guards marched by without stopping. Then he breathed a sigh of relief.
“But this isn’t my room.” David said again. “Is it your room?”
Just then, Bethany stepped out of the washroom dressed in her nightgown.
“Oh, hello Bethany—” David began, but she cut him off.
“Were you seen?” She asked.
“I don’t think so.” Francisco said. “They’ll be checking rooms any minute. Find something to do with David.” Then he ran across the room and disappeared off the balcony.
“Huh?” David said. “Find something to do with me?” He looked at Bethany who stood with her hands on her hips. Then she threw back her head and groaned.
“Sometimes I really hate that outlander.” She said as she grabbed David by the hand and led him over to her bed as the sound of men busting down doors echoed down the hall.
“Outlander? Where did he go?” David asked, now thoroughly confused.
“Shut up and do exactly as I say.” Bethany said as she pulled back her comforter. “Get in.”
David looked aghast. “What?”
But Bethany didn’t wait for him to comply. She shoved him into the bed, and then crawled in beside him and pulled the covers over them. She rubbed her hair with a hand until the static left it in a mess. Then she huffed and said, “Whatever you do, only let them see your face.”
David nodded, beginning to feel himself perspire in his clothes under the blanket.
Bethany waited until she heard the guards bang on her door, then she said, “Don’t come in!”
That was as good as an invitation to the hunting men. They kicked the door in, and the sound of it slamming against the wall made David jump. At the same moment, Bethany squeaked and held the covers up to her neck, despite the fact that she was fully clothed. David poked his head up over the covers and looked toward the door. Just beyond the threshold stood Gerald and Hans, each with a hand cannon pointed at them. The pair of them looked back and forth between David and Bethany, until they roared with laughter.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt you two.” Hans said.
“My, did you ever see a pair of more guilty faces.” Gerald added as he holstered his hand canon.
“Quite!” Hans said. “Never mind us, we’ll leave you to it then.” And then the pair of them left and shut the ruined door behind them.
Bethany jumped out of the bed the moment they left and braced the door shut with a chair.
“Why did they leave?” David asked as Bethany walked back toward the bed.
“Really, David?” She said with folded arms. “You can’t be that naive.”
“And…and who are you?” David asked. “Who are you really?”
“I work for the man in the shadows, same as you.” Bethany said.
“Is everyone a fraud?” David asked as he slumped back into the bed.
“The only fraud I care to deal with right now is the one where you and I pretended to be sleeping together.” She said as she put her hands on her hips again.
David turned bright red as he put all the pieces together.
“Now get out of my bed.” She said.
David moved to comply, but not fast enough for Bethany. She reached down and grabbed him by the ear.
“Ow, ok, ok, ok.” David said as he stumbled behind her. She towed him to the balcony and pushed him out.
“But what am I going to do out here?”
“Goodnight, David.” Bethany said, as she shut the door and locked it. Then she gave a little wave through the glass and shut the curtains. A moment later the light winked off.
David stood for a few seconds in the dark until his eyes adjusted, and the moon and surrounding bioluminescence illuminated his surroundings. For a moment, he considered climbing around the structure till he found his own room, but one look over the side, and he decided he’d had enough climbing. He settled down on one of the reclining chairs in preparation for a long night, but before he had a chance to close his eyes, the dark shape of a large flying feline sored into his alcove and alighted on the railing. It jumped down and crawled into David’s lap.
“I hate you. I really do. I think I’ll name you Havoc.”
VICE
Around 100 fathoms higher, Blythe stood in the middle of his suite’s living room glaring at the mess of broken glass on the floor as a maid swept them up. Every single piece infuriated him. Of all the moments for intruders to make themselves known, tonight was the worst. He had just finished a confident speech to his benefactor, one that boasted imminent success and the impossibility of failure. Then the roof fell in and rained glass on his moment of triumph. It was indeed aggravating, infuriating …
“Humiliating!” Blythe screamed as he threw the glass in his hand on the floor and added its bits to the mess.
The maid uttered a little shriek and sat up on her knees. She kept her head down as she clutched the broom and dustpan, both shaking in her hands. Blythe cocked his head as he looked down at her, but then there was a knock at the door, and his wife strode in and stood beside him. She looked down at the glass and the shaking maid and evidently spotted the broken wine goblet among the rubble.
“Losing our temper, are we
?” She said with a mocking smile and then turned to the maid. “Leave us.”
The girl jumped up and left the room in a rush. Bernice walked around the remainder of the mess on the floor and sat in one of the plush chairs near the window. Blythe walked over to the refreshment station and poured himself another drink and one for his wife as well. He handed her the glass and then sat in a matching chair across from her. They sipped in silence for a while.
“You realize this may have been a mercy for us.” Bernice said.
“How could it possibly be thus?” Blythe replied as he rested his head against the chair back. “I looked like a weak fool to one of the only people in the Fertile Plains who’s still a threat. This arrangement was meant to be a steppingstone, but now it’s becoming more and more like a vice squeezing me out.”
“Look beyond your own pride, darling.” She said, and then she took a drink.
He hated it when she toyed with him like this, and she only did it when he was frustrated, so he cut to the quick of the matter.
“Why is it a mercy?” he asked.
She took another drink and furrowed her brow. “We have a spy in our office.” She said after a lengthy pause that tried Blythe’s patience. “If this little,” she twirled her finger around as she pointed at the mess on the floor, “…incident hadn’t happened, we would be ignorant of it.”
Blythe wanted to chastise her stupidity if only to have a victory over her, but as he thought about her words, he knew they were true.
“This meeting was top secret.” He said and he shut his eyes and sighed. “The only way it could have been discovered is if someone listened in on our transmissions. It pains me to say it, but I doubt any slipups on their side. I certainly didn’t divulge anything, and I only communicated with the utmost secrecy.”
“Really?” Bernice said with a roll of her eyes. “Your sure none of you many midnight friends didn’t coax it out of you?”
“I’m not a fool, Bernice.” Blythe said.
“What of Samille and that foolish escapade?” She said and snorted in her triumph over him. “Do you ever get tired of your dirty little habit?”
“All the time. That’s why I keep changing partners.” Blythe said, jabbing back at her supplanted role as wife. “And what of you? Are you so innocent in your fidelity? I’m not ignorant of the flames you’ve kindled. Have you divulged information during your pillow talk?”
She scowled at him. “My antics are few and far between, and I never discuss politics or our plots. Though, during my last romance, the suitor did ask a lot of questions.”
“It’s a bad time to be asking questions.” Blythe said. “Who is he? You don’t mind if my lads pay him a visit?”
“Perhaps that might be best.” Bernice said without a hint of remorse. “He’s become vexing anyway. Do you remember Nathaniel?”
“The solicitor?” Blythe said with a gag. “Really, must you be so drab.
“Let’s not point fingers, darling.” She said as she gritted her teeth.
After a moment’s consideration, he nodded. “Well, if nobody coaxed it out of us, that only leaves a few options. Either the device was cloned, or they’ve been watching us the whole time.”
“How could they clone the device?” Bernice said. “It was in your vault the whole time.” Then she covered her mouth as Blythe nodded with meaning.
“Himpton?” she asked.
“Or David.” Blythe said.
“Do you really think it could be David?” Bernice frowned and looked into her drink.
Blythe stood and walked around the room, glass crunching beneath his heals. “I don’t know, Bernice. A moment ago, I believed our office impregnable.”
“Perhaps, but not impregnatable.” Bernice said with a laugh that grated Blythe’s ears.
He gave her a tight smile and continued. “I said as much to our benefactor, but now I am compelled to recognize a spy. It could be either of them, or neither, I don’t know.” Blythe looked up at the broken skylight and puzzled at the odd bend in the frame. He sighed and sat down, holding his cold glass to his forehead to nurse his growing headache. A knock came from the door.
“Enter.” He said.
Gerald and Hans walked into the room, and their presence eased his frustration.
“Anything?” He asked.
“Nothing of interest.” Gerald said. “Though, with the amount of staff that seem to be doubling up in rooms, we could have saved Alönia a good deal of tax money.”
Blythe ignored the man’s jest and gritted his teeth. How was he supposed to find a spy when he had nowhere to look? Then, a thought came to him.
“Get Hephnaire up here. Drag him out of bed if you have to.”
Gerald and Hans left in a hurry, seemingly hearing the urgent tone in Blythe’s voice.
“You’ve had a premonition, Husband mine. Won’t you share?” Bernice said as she sat sideways in her chair and let her feet dangle off the armrest.
She always used marital terms with him, even though the arrangement between them was anything but conjugal. It was as though she wanted to remind him of the bargain they’d struck all those cycles ago. Their marriage was not born out of romantic inclination or sexual attraction. They’d both been born in the slums, they both craved power, and they were both willing to do anything to gain it. That was the attraction between them. They loved each other as much as they hated each other. They loved the power that came through their union, but they hated the fact that they could only have it through each other.
“Not a premonition, a gamble.” Blythe said, but he would say no more until Hephnaire arrived. The Don walked in with bleary eyes that looked more for show than in earnest.
He looked at the glass in shock. “What’s happened here?” he asked.
“Don’t demean me with your games, Hephnaire.” Blythe said. “I’m in no mood. I’m trying to catch a spy, and you have the means to help me.”
“Well, my services are always available, for a price.” Hephnaire said.
Blythe smiled and nodded to Gerald, who sank his oversized fist into Hephnaire’s paunch.
“How’s that for a down payment?” Blythe asked. “If it’s not enough—”
“No, no it is more than enough.” Hephnaire said with a grimace.
“Excellent. Like I said, I’m in no mood for games.” Blythe crossed his legs in his seat and took a sip of his drink. “I need copies of all your recordings of my staff’s rooms.”
Hephnaire froze in his massaging of his stomach. “Recordings?”
Blythe nodded at Gerald again, but the movement alone this time loosened Hephnaire’s tongue.
“Yes, Yes, Recordings. What about them.” He said, shying away from Gerald’s clenched fist.
“I know you have them because we found dozens of listening devices when we took up residence in this room.” Blythe said. “A don with a resort? The infidelity that goes on here is too much a temptation to refuse the lucrative trade of blackmail. I want all the recordings of my staff, and I want my men at the listening outpost for the remainder of our time here. Do we have an understanding?”
“A perfect understanding, Speaker Blythe.” Hephnaire said.
“Good. I hope this episode does not frighten you.” Blythe said as he swallowed the last of this drink. “I see a very profitable relationship between us in the future.”
Hephnaire smiled, but it was a tight smile.
“Gerald. Hans.” Blythe said. “Go with him. And check Himpton and David’s room recordings first. I want to know of anything out of the ordinary.”
The men left the room and Blythe and Bernice sat alone again.
“Your latest toy is still waiting for you in your bedroom.” Bernice said.
“Send her away. She’s a spoiled brat, and I’m tired of her annoying giggles.”
Bernice stood and snorted.
“And bring that maid back to clean up this mess.” Blythe said as she sat her goblet down on the table. “Then, have her sent t
o my room.”
“You are disgusting.” She said as she walked away.
“It’s what you love about me, darling.” Blythe said, a sneering smile on his lips.
He sat back in his chair and pondered in his solitude. In the last few seasons he’d almost achieved everything he’d ever wanted. He was one of the most powerful men in the entire Fertile Plains. He’d denied himself nothing, and yet, he had an emptiness inside him. Why did he feel like he still lacked everything?
BURDEN OF PROOF
David looked down, unable to meet mother’s gaze in the middle of the kitchen. She looked the way she always did right before he got punished, hands on her hips and a stern, unwavering expression. He prodded his puckered, black eye, but he knew all too well that his injuries would not soften his mother’s fury.
“Don’t touch it!” she said, and she pulled his hand away from his eye. Then she pressed a piece of meat against the bruised side of his face and replaced his hand.
“Hold it there.” Mother said.
David did as he was told. The meat felt cold and sticky against his face, but not unpleasant to his burning skin.
“Why did you hit him?” Mother asked.
David looked at the floor and kicked at the wood paneling with his feet.
“Look at me David!”
David looked up, tears welling up in his eight-cycle-old eyes, though the raw meat kept one from spilling over. His lip quivered, not from pain or from fear, neither of those made him cry. He was ashamed, and the thought of disappointing his parents brought on tears more than anything else.
“He said father was the worst armada captain in Alönia.” David said in the midst of a sob. “He said father told lies just so he could get famous like grandfather. He said—
“I didn’t ask what he said.” Mother cut him off. “I asked why you hit him.”
David opened his mouth to reply but closed it again. Did she not understand? He hit Darius because he insulted his father. What other reason could there be. His mother must have seen the confusion in his face, for she replaced her hands on her hips and looked at the ceiling with a sigh. Then she crouched down and knelt on the floor in front of him, so their faces were at the same level.
