Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love

by Jay Belle Isle

  "Evans, please," Edgar answered and the elevator began moving. Seconds later, the door slid open on a lobby that could only be described as opulent. Obviously, Evans and Smith, the top floor's joint tenants, decided on some serious upgrades recently. The entire lobby matched the elevator, save the floor which was a deep green marble, polished to the point of reflectivity. Edgar nodded approvingly, familiar with the cost of such a set-up; he knew he could afford it several times over, but was impressed that Evans and Smith, the other barrister on this floor, could do so, even jointly.

  He stepped forward onto the mirror-like marble and approached the reception station. This one was staffed by only one person, a man whose appearance was as crisp and professional as the lobby itself. The man looked up immediately upon Edgar entering the lobby. "Hello sir, I'm James; may I be of assistance?" the man said in a perfect British accent.

  "Yes, James, you may," Edgar replied. "My name is Edgar Aeternum and I need to see Barrister Evans."

  "Very well, sir," James checked a screen on his desk and looked up at Edgar, the proper blend of suspicion and apology. "I don't see you on today's appointments."

  Edgar smiled, understanding the man's confusion. "That's because I'm not on the books for today. It's a matter of urgency and Barrister Evans will see me." He decided to play it low-key; James must either be a temp or very new, because Evans typically made it a point to inform his staff of Edgar's status.

  "I'll have to call the barrister, sir," James replied in neat, clipped tones. "Would you mind having a seat, sir?" he gestured to one of the chocolate brown leather sofas lining the room.

  "Not at all, James, thank you," Edgar answered and took a seat.

  A moment later, James presented himself in front of Edgar, who was pretending to be staring at the floor, lost in thought. The young man cleared his throat softly, announcing his presence. Edgar looked up in mock surprise, "Yes, James?" he said, all smiles and friendliness. He made a mental note to ask Evans to take it easy on the young man if he was new; unless, of course, he wasn't, in which case Edgar wouldn't interfere.

  "I, uh, checked with Barrister Evans," James said, temporarily losing his professional polish, "If you'd follow me, please?"

  "Of course," Edgar said, standing. "Where to?" he asked, though he already knew it would be a private conference room, the only windows facing outside. There, he'd wait for a short time until Evans quickly wrapped up with his current client. Unless, of course, it was with one of the other two on the shortlist, in which case it may take a little longer.

  "This way, please, sir," James answered, leading the way to the nearest conference room. Edgar carefully kept his face blank; if he smiled, it would look like he was a spoiled rich bitch pulling rank on the young man. While technically true, there was no reason to be unpleasant about it; Edgar rarely behaved as poorly as his money would permit.

  "Of course, James, thank you," he said and followed the young suit, appreciating the view. Even if he wasn't here on an urgent matter, he wouldn't flirt; both he and Evans considered such a thing a gross conflict of interest. Fun was fun, but not when it could cause problems at such a high level.

  After depositing him in the predicted conference room and asking if he would like a beverage, James advised Edgar that Barrister Evans would see him shortly. Edgar declined a drink and thanked the young man for his assistance. James inclined his head in acknowledgement and left the room.

  Ten minutes later, the door opened and Edgar turned from the view, expecting Evans. He was slightly surprised to see James again. "Barrister Evans will see you now, Mr. Aeternum. I must apologize for earlier; I hadn't been informed of your arrangement with the barrister. It won't happen again, sir."

  "Think nothing of it," Edgar said, "I'm assuming you've only recently taken this job?"

  "Yes sir, just today actually. Miss Barnes, my predecessor, must not have reached that point in my training, sir," James answered.

  "Well, that explains everything, James. I hope the old man wasn't too tough on you," Edgar gave him a conspiratorial look.

  "Not at all, sir, but thank you for asking," James said. This alone told Edgar that Evans had chosen a good replacement for the departing Miss Barnes. If he'd been anything less than a perfect fit, he'd have answered more candidly. A proper professional would respond exactly as James had done. Even if Evans had flayed him alive, James would neither tell nor let it show.

  "Good," Edgar replied, "I'm glad to hear it. Lead on, please." James turned and Edgar followed him to Evans' corner office. The door was open, as it often was if Evans wasn't with a client or on the comm. James waved Edgar inside and quietly left.

  "Evans! Good to see you; my apologies for the surprise visit," Edgar said.

  "Mr. Aeternum!" the barrister replied rising, "Do come in! Close the door behind you please and come, have a seat. I trust James has been a gracious host, at least once we handled our little misunderstanding?"

  Edgar did as the barrister requested, settling into one of the burgundy leather visitors chairs across from Evans' mountain of a desk. "Absolutely, Evans," Edgar answered. "The, ah, 'little misunderstanding' was no inconvenience, really; I hope you weren't too hard on him."

  "Not at all," Evans replied, seating himself once Edgar was sitting. "The boy is a gem! I'd be a complete idiot to give him up so easily!"

  "My thoughts exactly, Evans. Cool under pressure, professional to a fault, he's perfect for the job," Edgar said.

  "I'm glad you approve, sir. I trust your opinion on such things; you're equally professional in such matters. Unlike some of my clients, who appear to think with parts of their anatomies other than their brains; such as the one with whom I was just meeting. I thought I might actually have to call security to pry her off the poor boy!" Evans' distaste for such behavior was evident, not only in his voice, but in the "who farted?" expression on his face.

  Edgar shook his head sympathetically, though he suspected James could've easily extricated himself from the situation given enough time. Evans continued, face once more neutral, "What brings you here, sir? Certainly, a call would've been more convenient for you?"

  "Normally, Evans, it would. I hate to pull rank like I have today, but I've been giving the Jarvis matter some extra thought. I've run a comm sweep with my HC, but I want to you to get a top-level sweep done. As a barrister, especially one so well-connected, it should be easy for you," Edgar said.

  "Indeed, sir," Evans said.

  "Sensible precaution," Edgar answered. "You'll remember this isn't my first stalker."

  "True enough," the barrister said. "Though you do tend to have the most interesting ones."

  "Sadly, I can't argue with that," Edgar said. "Starting from the top, I'd like you to check all weapons registries to see if Jarvis is listed. I'm obviously limiting time out of Highland House as much as possible because she knows my routine. However, if the comm turns out to be tapped, ordering food becomes problematic, so I'll have to leave to shop. Otherwise, no running in the Park or any other of my usual activities.

  The priority task is the comm sweep, though. If it's not tapped, I can stay indoors until this issue is finished. If it is tapped, we need to decide what to do next; break the tap, leave it and use it to our advantage, or turn it over to Altair Security. While the latter may be expedient, it opens us up to too much scrutiny and I'd prefer to avoid it.

  Next, I want you to run a check on all of Jarvis' known associates. Is it possible she's not working alone? I know it sounds paranoid, but it's possible. What's her background? Education? All those details will help us determine her skill set and, possibly, her level of threat.

  Which brings me to my last point, Evans. I need to see Jarvis' criminal and psych records if any exist. The two options, in my mind anyway, are that she's a failed extortionist and is just pissed off. She's on the run because she doesn't want to be shipped off to Tyranus 6 and all of her actions are driven by emotion.

  The other option is that this isn't her first crim
inal venture. What if she went through psy'er treatments, but they only lasted temporarily? Granted, that doesn't happen often, but what if she's one of the few? The psy docs would've cleared her as rehabilitated and not bothered to do any follow up. They don't like people to know that the treatments aren't always permanent; I can see their point since only about one percent of patients actually reoffend. It'll take some work on your part, and probably a lot of credits on mine, but I want those records."

  Evans was taking notes as Edgar rattled off his list. When Edgar stopped speaking, the barrister looked up from his screen. "These items will be done, sir; the sweep should be finished by tomorrow afternoon. The registry check is already running; I started it shortly after you asked for it. Background and known associates, as well as medical and criminal records checks may take a few days, sir; they're rather more involved than the rest. I've activated my web of contacts and," he paused, "field operatives; they're already searching for Miss Jarvis."

  "Well done, Evans," Edgar complimented the barrister. At that moment, the computer chimed, indicating the registry search was complete.

  "Well," Evans said, "unless she's managed to procure illegal, unregistered weaponry, our Miss Jarvis is unarmed. The criminal background check will help determine her ability to find such weapons," the barrister looked at Edgar. "I've reviewed her personnel files from the bank; either she's clean or she's an excellent liar. They show no priors and no psy'er treatments. However, if she is a recidivist, she may have been able to hide that information. We'll soon see."

  "Good," Edgar said, "I appreciate your thoroughness, Evans."

  "But of course, Mr. Aeternum. It's my pleasure as well as my duty. If I find that your comm is tapped, I'll call you and tell you that 'The deal is moving ahead.' We should then plan to meet again to discuss our next moves. Obviously, if there are no taps, I'll call you and say so. As to the results of your requests, I will send them via private courier, if any taps are present. I trust this is acceptable?" he asked.

  "Completely," Edgar answered. "It's a good plan and you have my utmost confidence, Evans."

  "Thank you, sir," the barrister replied. "As to the ultimate disposition of Miss Serina Jarvis?" he let the unfinished question hang in the air.

  Edgar looked at the barrister. The man's unlined face was a mask, hiding any emotion he might be feeling. His only expression was a slight raising of his salt-and-pepper eyebrows. Edgar knew his own expression upon hearing the question was cold, his normally cheery blue eyes shining like two icy diamonds. "Make it look like an accident," he answered Evans.

  "Understood, sir," Evans' response was equally devoid of feeling. "Will there be anything else today?"

  Edgar paused, thinking before he answered. "Yes, Evans. If my comm system is tapped, there are some people I want put under constant surveillance until this matter is closed. There are two restaurants, Antonia's Pizza and Las Dos Hermanas; I'm very fond of their owners and staff and I've spoken to each recently. The others are Wizzer, no last name, and Maddox Bristow. I've spoken to each within the last few days. Both are important to me. If it turns out that Jarvis isn't working alone, I'd like to add two more to the list; Jace Arroyo, currently in Barcelona and Sterling Rogers, currently in Rio. It's unlikely they're in any danger, but if she's got connections, I'd rather be safe than sorry. Spare no expense, Evans."

  "As you wish, Mr. Aeternum," Evans said. "I have a well-respected, discreet service that's perfect for such work."

  "I thought you would," Edgar smiled, his usual warmth returning both to his face and voice. "Somehow, I don't think there's anything you couldn't find a way to accomplish," he joked.

  Evans cocked an eyebrow and responded simply, "I find being resourceful a good benefit to my clients."

  "Of course," Edgar said with a wink. "On behalf of your clients, your resourcefulness is greatly appreciated. The recent renovations you and Smith have done show just how much, I'd say."

  The barrister seemed to be caught off guard for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Yes, we decided that certain improvements might make our clients more comfortable." There was a slight twinkle in Evans' eyes that gave Edgar the impression that, while client comfort figured in the decision, Smith and Evans' personal desire for the opulence was the main driver. Most of the barristers' clients wouldn't have the first clue as to the cost of the upgrades; Evans knew that Edgar wasn't among the clueless.

  He looked at Edgar and gave a slight shrug. "Business has been good."

  "There's nothing wrong with enjoying the fruits of one's labor, in my opinion," Edgar said. "I see no point in denying those pleasures."

  "Indeed," Evans agreed.

  Their discussion of Serina Jarvis concluded, the two men spent a few more minutes discussing the merits of old wood and polished marble before Edgar steered the conversation to its end. It was rare that he and Evans saw each other and equally rare that they merely talked, as two men of considerable wealth, and not about business. However, Edgar knew that he was keeping Evans from potentially important work, given that his was an unplanned visit. He respected the barrister's time and didn't want to waste it. Evans would never tell him he had other things to do, of course; Edgar rightly suspected that his credits paid for at least half of Evans' share of the renovations. It was bad business to hurry your cash cow client out the door; though he wouldn't have been upset about it, under the circumstances, as long as business was handled first.

  Edgar showed himself to the lobby, where he found James on a comm call with a client who wanted to book an appointment. The efficient receptionist appeared ready to place the caller on hold, but Edgar shook his head and silently mouthed the words, "Not necessary. I'll see myself out."

  James nodded and smiled, mouthed the words, "Nice to meet you; have a good day, sir," and went back to the call. Edgar smiled and nodded before going to the elevator. He made his way through the crowded lobby into the sea of suits outside; by one o'clock he was seated at the rear of a magna car pulling away from Bentley Station. He shared the return trip with an elderly couple and an expectant mother; in addition to being a hub for commerce, Navea also boasted some of the best medical facilities in the state. Edgar figured that the mother, at least, was likely returning home from an appointment. Either way, it was an uneventful trip.

  The magna pulled into Altair Station at one-thirty and Edgar braced himself for the crowd. This sea of people was not a homogenous collection of black and navy suits, though; the people here were a mix of everything from runners in shorts to CoL members in their flowing robes. There were some suits and many in casual dress similar to Edgar; it was a typical day at Altair Station.

  As Edgar was nearing his apartment building, he stopped and looked at the sky. It was getting darker on the western horizon, a pale grey in stark contrast to the bright blue above him. He shook his head and went inside, happy that he'd visited Evans sooner rather than later.

  Y'know, after 400 years of technological advancements, the average weatherman still mucks it up sometimes. 'Clear, sunny skies until sunset,' my ass. I'll check it out upstairs. Hopefully, it isn't gonna be a bad one. Though I doubt Maddi's gonna melt in the rain, it's still no fun, even with a rain suit. Ah well, whadaya gonna do? I'm not gonna mope about it; I'll just put out some candles to brighten up the place. Besides, the view is gorgeous even in the rain.

  Edgar palmed the lock on his apartment and headed straight for the kitchen, grabbing a glass of ice water. "BuzzNet Weather – update on storm" he called out to the HC.

  "Display or audio only?" the smooth voice asked after a single chime.

  "Audio only," Edgar replied and set about plating the leftover pizza and Stix from Antonia's and refilling his empty glass.

  The speakers came to life with BuzzNet Weather's report. BuzzNet was the best source for weather in Edgar's opinion. Their right-to-wrong record showed a strong trend toward accuracy. He also liked the fact that, no matter how or when you accessed the report, it always began from the beginnin
g rather than forcing him to put up with partial reports and wait to pick up what he missed.

  "Today's forecast originally stated all-day sun; sorry to disappoint, but radar now shows a storm moving in from the Pacific. Its original course would have put it in contact with Vancouver later this evening. However, a last-minute direction change is sending it our way. Sensor nets show it's a big one, friends. Not 'head-for-a-shelter' big, but expect heavy rains, thunder and lightning, and moderately high winds in the thirty to forty mile an hour range. Due to its size, we expect this one to last all night, tapering off to a light rain just in time for rush hour tomorrow." The HC chimed, signifying the end of the report.

  Well, that'll be fun for traveling. Worst case scenario, I'll put on a fire and we'll have to cuddle until he warms up. I can think of less pleasant things to do. It does mean we're in for a great show; a thunderstorm over Gridley Park with this view... better than any movie.

  Edgar dropped onto the sofa, plate and glass in hand, and began devouring the leftovers. He practically inhaled the food and decided he had time to finish the article on the latest advancements in hydroponics he'd started before Maddox arrived at four.

  "Set alarm for three-thirty p.m.," he instructed the HC, "and play music - 1980's dance." The computer chimed and the room was filled with Paula Abdul's Cold Hearted Snake. Edgar dance-walked to his desk, already feeling the happy buzz that eighties music gave him. He settled into the chair and was soon lost in his work.

  CHAPTER 13

  The spellchecker completed its review of the article just moments before the HC announced three-thirty p.m. Edgar acknowledged the alarm silencing the chime and sent the file to his client. Valentino was getting kissed by a crystal-blue Italian stream, courtesy of the Bangles, as he rose, stretched and went to the bathroom.

  After taking care of nature's needs, Edgar washed up at the sink and brushed his teeth. He applied just a small amount of Nag Champa oil at strategic points on his body and went to the walk-in to pick out clothing for the evening. He settled on his favorite pair of jeans: faded fabric so soft he could barely tell he was wearing them, a hole at one knee and a plain black tee. He briefly contemplated socks and vetoed the idea, choosing the more casual, cozy barefoot look. A quick brush of the hair and he was checking himself out in the three-way mirror.