by Mason Dakota
“Yes. Well I have been suffering a cold lately. And while you Nobles have nothing to worry about using the same breathing tube, I fear its unsanitary condition might prove dangerous to my system. I don’t want this cold to grow into something worse like the flu. And isn’t that the same tube that last lady just used? That can’t be safe.” I was rambling in a panic.
“We switch the tube after every individual who tests positive.”
“Yes, right.” I couldn’t think of any more excuses. The panic increased.
“Are you resisting an order from your superior, Outcast?”. The venom in his voice was palpable. A Noble was giving me an order and I was arguing. If that were true, regardless of my position as Outcast Emissary, he had the right to physically punish me or have me hanged. I saw the image of those three young Sabols gunned down in the street in my mind. These men would kill me on the spot if I resisted.
I was a dead man either way.
I leaned forward, pressed my lips to the tube, blew out a big breath of air as I stared into the lens. There was a beeping noise, a flash of red light on the scanner and suddenly I was thrown to the ground with my arms pinned behind me, cuffs slapped around my wrists, and dragged away. I did not resist.
Maybe this worried them, or maybe it was just because I was an Outcast, but at some point a pair of sharp needles pressed against my neck and volts of electricity pumped into my nervous system. I blacked out in tooth-rattling pain.
Fifty-Three
I awoke alone in a massive conference room with black chairs seated around the largest wood table I had ever seen. I recognized this room. It was one of the conference rooms within the Mayor’s Office.
So I got into the building after all.
My head was fuzzy and my vision equally so. There was a foul taste of dried blood in my mouth. I struggled to breath, fighting the urge to vomit. Looking around, I realized that a metal bar had been drilled into the table and my hands were cuffed to the bar. I was stuck.
It was the worst feeling in the world for a former thief.
A massive headache consumed my skull. It was so excruciating that lights brought a new wave of pain. I gasped and shielded my eyes with my face down on the table. I’m not sure how long I sat in that room, or even how long I had been there before waking up, but when my patience wore thin, I shouted out, hoping someone outside the room would hear me, “My name is Griffon Nightlock! I’m the Outcast Emissary here! Emperor Adam Rythe wishes to speak with me.”
No reply came.
I waited a few more quiet moments and then shouted out again, “I know how this must appear! I know I’ve got the virus. I can explain that, but right now everyone in Chicago is in grave danger, and the longer I am stuck here the worse the threat is going to get!”
Silence.
I cursed under my breath and shouted out once more, “Where is Mayor Alexandra Carline? Bring her in here! Bring someone in here, I don’t care who. Alexandra will listen to what I have to say!”
How far have I fallen that I’m begging to speak to her?
The door opened and someone entered. They only got an arm through the door before I heard a voice say, “Sir I must insist that you don’t go in there. You run the risk of infection.”
The person who opened the door halted and seemed to turn back. No words were exchanged. That terrified me. Whomever it was could obviously command authority and fear with just a look. And then the individual holding the door open walked in unhindered.
Emperor Adam Rythe entered the room.
I thought I was terrified when the military marched through Chicago, when I faced off against Rigs in a street fight, when I played cat and mouse with Raven, when I was hunted by Alexandra, but this…was much worse. Rythe wore the same attire he wore in the broadcast on the airship’s surface. He stood straight and tall, well built with broad shoulders like a boxer. He had a square jaw set tightly with clinched teeth. His eyes were dark brown like muddied water and studied everything. His skin was flawless despite his age and I struggled to put an age on him as he appeared only a few years older than maybe Gabriel. He came in alone, turned around and gently shut the door behind him.
The handcuffs made more sense now.
He remained on the far end of the room to maximize the distance between us. He crossed his hands behind him, cocked his head to the side, waited a painful amount of time to make me feel awkward, and spoke softly, “I am afraid Mayor Alexandra Carline cannot help you.”
“W—what do you mean?” I stammered. He winced at the sound of my voice. He looked disgusted. Emperor Adam Rythe despised Outcasts—everyone knew that, and he was proud people knew that about him. I guess he even hated to hear one speak. Normally I would exploit this for my own pleasure, but not with this man. I was far too terrified to play that game. My usual personality and sense of humor would have me killed here. I had to be careful of every word.
Adam Rythe shook off the annoyance of my voice and continued speaking. “Alexandra Carline wrongfully took a position given to my idiotic nephew. Democracy is not accepted, even in such extreme situations as the one that put her in power. It was a position that never belonged to her. She deserves credit for what she accomplished, though. She proved rather resourceful in the vacuum of this city’s leadership and did better than most would have, holding Chicago together after all that has transpired. For her efforts and results instead of having her arrested, I have moved her to a different position within Chicago. She has been reassigned as Chicago’s new acting Police Commissioner in charge of the Noble Police Force of Chicago.”
So she goes from city mob queen to mayor to police commissioner over a police force made up of her loyal Noble mobsters. How is that fair?
“Now that Chicago is under martial law, resistance to our efforts will prove detrimental. Therefore, Police Commissioner Alexandra Carline has the honored task of eliminating threats to my operation within the city limits. This goes for the elimination of violent gangs and masked murderers that cannot distract my men from the work that they need to complete.”
She lost her job but now gets all the time and support to hunt me. Great.
Adam took a step closer to me as he scowled, looked down his nose at me. “You look despicable.”
I could already tell the Emperor and I would be the best of friends. I wanted to snap back at him and say something about how he didn’t look as good as he thought he did himself, but I bit my tongue—not because it would be a horrible lie, but because it would get me killed. Practicing self-control in front of powerfully arrogant and egotistical individuals was one of the hardest and most miserable things I had to do.
What has life come to if I can’t enjoy shooting insults back at horrible people?
Adam took the chair farthest from me and sat down. He pulled out a datapad and asked without looking up, “Your name is Griffon Nightlock, correct?”
I nodded and said, “Yes, your Majesty.” I saw the corner of his lips twitch toward a smile. The Emperor loved the praise and submission of “lesser” beings.
“Son of infamous warlord Richard Nightlock.” I wasn’t sure if he was asking me a question, as he didn’t look up while he continued to scroll through what I imagined was a file about me. “The first Outcast Emissary of Chicago, named so by my nephew—one of his last mistakes in office. Quite the accomplishment, Outcast,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” I said keeping my eyes away from his icy cold stare.
“That was not a compliment, Outcast. Your heritage justified a hanging, or at the very least detainment. Instead, my nephew overlooked that to put you in a position of power nearly equal to a Noble’s. Tell me, how did you manage to deceive my nephew into getting this honor?” he asked.
I know when someone is testing me. I casually shrugged and said, “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Because of my actions the former Mayor Kraine decided to give me the job. I guess it was some kind of reward.”
It wasn’t a complete lie, so I was cap
able of saying it in a way that I thought believable. I just left out the tiny details of my bank heist and then how Kraine was really just using me to push his own political career while throwing all the crap he didn’t want to deal with upon my shoulders. The Emperor didn’t need to know all those details.
“You’re wrong, Outcast. Your actions might have warranted notice from my nephew, but you were hired because of your heritage. My nephew, an enemy of my regime, thought it wise to hire the son of one of the Empire’s greatest threat. You were a patsy—or intended to be one before Kraine’s secrets came to light.”
I felt crushed and confused. I never considered until now how it must have been perceived when I was assigned this position. Sure I knew there was shock and even outrage in some places because I was an Outcast. But I never considered there being an element of that which came from being whose son I was. How could I? I didn’t even know Richard Nightlock existed until a few days ago—let alone who he was!
The Emperor leaned back in his chair and interlocked his fingers before him. “Outcast, what was it like running into Ziavir Yiros again?” he asked abruptly.
Odd he hasn’t made mention of the virus, yet. Is he even safe in here with me?
“Sir, I mean no disrespect, but you must be aware of what I carry. You’re in danger being here with me. You’re putting the security of this whole empire at risk,” I said.
“Are you making an accusation against my security force?”
I stammered.
“I am perfectly safe,” said Adam Rythe.
Now it was my turn to read between the lines. “You’ve already got the cure.”
Adam Rythe sneered. The look in his eyes told me he was impressed. It also told me two other facts: that the Emperor really did have the cure and that there was no hope of me getting it from him.
“It would appear you are Richard’s son.”
Was that a compliment?
“And you know my father well enough to make that statement.”
Now the smirk disappeared and was replaced by a look of frustration, as if Adam had revealed a bit more than he wished. “I believe I asked you a question, Outcast. Shall I take your diversion as a means of insubordination?”
The threat was clear. Answer his question or die.
“No, sir, I’m merely confused by the question and its relevance to now,” I quickly stated.
A smile stretched slowly across the Emperor’s face that sent chills down my spine. “I know the two of you are acquainted and have a history. It would seem that each time you and Yiros are within each other’s proximity there are bodies left behind. I believe the last time resulted in the death of a few prominent bankers and one news cast host at a ball my nephew threw. I’m curious as to the nature of your relationship and how it felt when you saw him on that train.”
In an instant I realized what was going on. Adam Rythe thought I was a Nebula agent. If I wasn’t terrified before I was now. I licked my chapped lips coated in dried blood and asked, “Sir, have you ever met Ziavir before?”
Adam Rythe didn’t respond for about a second or two before nodding his head once and saying, “Yes, I have. We each served in my predecessor’s court of advisers almost thirty years ago. There was a time we owed much of our security on our borders to Ziavir.”
“Then I’m sure you are more aware than I am what kind of man he is and what his capabilities are. I’m also sure you’ve briefed on our history. I don’t think it needs to be stated how I felt. You already know.”
Rythe nodded. “He…and others like him…are certainly formidable enemies to the state of our Empire. They are not threats that can be ignored, even amongst the distraction of other perils.”
Is he afraid I am the next Ziavir or Gabriel?
Then, as if reading my thoughts, Adam Rythe stopped beating around the bush and went straight for the prize, asking the question I knew he wanted answers to most.
“Tell me, Griffon, are you a part of Nebula?”
I didn’t rush to answer, taking a deep breath and feeling the room’s icy touch scratch down my throat. It took every bit of willpower I had to not start coughing.
Adam Rythe took advantage of my silence and pushed harder, denying my right to plead ignorance of Nebula. “Oh, so you do know about them. Very few in this world can claim that unless they are actually part of Nebula or have survived encounters with them. Which are you?”
I quickly spat out, “I’m not part of Nebula. I swear! I would do everything in my power to expose them if I could.”
The Emperor’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve received detailed reports of Nebula’s activity in Chicago, but it seems Nebula has withdrawn from Chicago since Ziavir crippled it. Strangely, reports also suggest their director himself is hiding out somewhere in Chicago without the protection of Ziavir and Nebula. I also know that a virus is penetrating Chicago and threatening the lives of my people—the same virus that you have. A virus that infects only Nobles, yet you have it. Since you have association with Nebula, who is suspect number one, and you are sick, then the evidence is quite clear. I will be succinct. Unless you choose to corroborate and reveal the whereabouts of your director, you execution will be long and torturous. Comply and I promise a quick and painless death for your crimes.”
So no matter what, he intends to have me killed.
“No! I swear I’m not part of Nebula! I’m trying to stop this! I swear! I want to stop them, too—except it’s not Nebula and Ziavir! I got sick because I tried to stop the men truly responsible! Please, you’ve got to believe me and you’ve got to help me! I’m trying to save you and everyone else! The man responsible is my father, Richard Nightlock!”
He smiled the minute I confessed my father’s name out loud. He hid the smile as quickly as it flashed and shook his head. “Chicago needs to be purged and tomorrow it will begin with you, unless you tell me where to find your director. Don’t deny you know who that is. I’ll ask this only once. Where is Gabriel?”
I stared at him and swallowed the gargantuan lump in my throat. I opened my mouth and said, “I can’t. I won’t tell you.”
Just like that, I signed my death warrant. As much as I wanted to, and for as much pain and hate the man had caused me, I still couldn’t betray Gabriel.
The Emperor nodded as he thought over my answer. He wasn’t used to being told no and he didn’t seem to like it. “Then you’ve settled on the torture over a quick death. My men will give you that and will keep you alive through it until you finally give me what I want. Afterward you will be permitted to die.”
Gulp.
“I am not a part of Nebula and I’m not trying to commit genocide. I’m trying to stop it by finding the one responsible. I’m trying to find my father.”
The Emperor’s face showed great disappointment and he stood to leave. I immediately slapped my hands onto the table and shouted, “Wait! I know who is behind this! They plan to unleash this virus at the United Noble Convention! You’ve got to believe me!”
“Traitors and thieves do not hold honor enough to make me believe anything. I have evidence to satisfy me. Your past and your heritage testifies against you. Your illness suggests you made a mistake and got yourself sick while handling the virus. You went from savior to terrorist in a very short time, Mr. Nightlock. I’ll be happy to see you hang for your crimes. It’s long overdue.”
I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. There was something more going on here, hidden. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it and was going to get myself killed because I couldn’t figure it out. I watched speechlessly as Adam Rythe reached the door and stopped to say one final thing. “Farewell, Mr. Nightlock. It was a pleasure even if it was a disappointment.”
He opened the door and a soldier in red battle armor stood there waiting. “You may speak to him now. Five minutes free of recording.”
The soldier bowed his head and stepped past the Emperor to enter the room. He stood at the end of the long table and slowly lifted his helmet free and I
gasped.
There stood my father, Richard Nightlock.
What is going on!
Fifty-Four
Our eyes connected and he smiled with a look of pain in his eyes. “There he is!” I shouted to Adam Rythe standing in the doorway. “He’s the one who made the virus and plans to use it to kill all the Nobles!”
The Emperor turned back and looked at me with a raised eyebrow look. Then he looked back toward my father and said, “Make it fast. Then you are to leave without being noticed.”
Is the Emperor working with my father? Is he trying to exterminate his own species?
My father nodded in reply and the Emperor shut the door. I was alone in the room now with my father, with more questions than answers. Were Adam and my father working together? Is my father allowing me to be executed? Is my father an agent of Adam’s? Is the whole Outcast Legion and their war a lie created by these two men?
I felt my heart beat faster and faster as he came farther and farther into the room, closer than Adam ever dared to until he took a seat in the chair beside me. I trembled with terror. Sweat leaked a path down my forehead.
He silently smiled back at me. I once thought Ziavir was the devil but now I was beginning to see that it was in fact this man. It wasn’t enough that he infected his own son with a virus to make him a carrier. Now he was handing me over to the Emperor to be tortured and executed.
“You’re looking chipper today,” he mocked.
“What are you doing here,” I hissed. “What the hell is going on?”
He smiled, pulled out a small vial with a white spotted pill in it and slid it forward, keeping his hand on it, and said, “You have just been tried and found guilty of treason, Griffon. You are going to be tortured for information about Gabriel and then hanged. I didn’t do this, but the Emperor and I struck a deal so that I could privately meet with you. I am going to need you to take this. It isn’t a cure for you condition, but it will buy you more time to allow us to properly prepare our next steps.”
