Death's Twilight

by A. J. Leavens

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Ukraine Territory, December 5, 2308 12:05:16 (Plus 00:00:02:04)

  "Emissary 0247893, this is Control. How can we be of assistance?"

  "There's something wrong with my chronometer, Control. I had over two minutes to complete Delivery and my delivery is registered at plus sixteen seconds. Can you please verify my Tablet?"

  "Working. Please wait."

  Slade paced back and forth as Control worked silently on the other end of the connection. He was angry with himself, but could not understand why. He knew that he hadn't gone past the allotted time. He looked at his Tablet - it still read plus sixteen seconds. He was about to throw the offending Tablet at the ground when a voice came back on the line.

  "Emisary 0247893, thank you for being patient. We have checked the data in reference to your Delivery. Our investigation points to the data being correct. Delivery to Randy Emery Herman recorded at 12:03:28pm local time. Data verified on four separate servers for corruption and inaccuracy."

  "So what is my next course of action?" Slade asked, though he knew already. He had to hear it out loud.

  "You need to remain where you are. Someone will collect you and bring you back to The College in Siam for questioning and examination. From there, resulting actions will be decided and carried out."

  Slade dropped to his knees, in shock. From the first day Slade had been an Alpha, there had always been the possibility of failure. Intense training and well executed plans ensured a great chance of success, but there was always the unknown.

  "Thank you, Control." He said dejectedly. "Emissary 0247893 out." Slade disconnected from the call, arms dropping to his sides, shoulders sagging in defeat.

  Kozel found Slade kneeling over Herman’s corpse. Slade's head was in his hands, and he was rocking slightly, as if rocking would make something go away. Kozel parked the hover, got out and walked along the small expanse of snow-covered grass that made up the backyard of the house. Already, he could hear the sirens of the iCorps vehicles coming to clean up Herman.

  "You don't look so happy, Emissary. I would think that after Delivering your Letter, you would be happier."

  "I've failed, Kozel."

  "Failed? How?"

  "I didn't deliver in time." Slade showed his chronometer to Kozel.

  "Plus sixteen? What does that mean?"

  "It means I've failed. Each Delivery is assigned a specific time limit. Emissaries are allowed ten additional seconds on top of the specified time in extreme cases where the Target flees, like Herman did."

  "So they're all upset over one second? You Delivered your Letter." He pointed to Herman's prone body. "And why did you have to kill Herman?"

  "I used my Boom Stick to immobilize him. After I Delivered the Letter, he simply died." There was no point in telling Kozel more than he was equipped to handle. "Perhaps his heart gave out after such a long chase, and then being shocked by the Boom Stick." Slade stood, the expression on his face changing to one of determination.

  "And the authorities?" Kozel motioned in the air to the sound of approaching sirens.

  "Are coming to take me in." Slade stood, a new resolve gripping him. He knew something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "But I'm not going. Kozel, I need you to do something for me."

  "Anything, Emissary."

  "I need you to get home to Lyuba, Vasylyna and Yakiv. Forget you ever met me. I know how they'll try to find me."

  "But Emissary-"

  "Just do it, Kozel!" Anger shone in Slade's eyes, and Kozel backed up a step.

  "When?" Kozel said, quietly.

  "The sooner the better."

  With that, Slade stood, offering his hand to Kozel.

  "Thank you for your help. It has been an honor to work with you, Officer Dmytro Kozel."

  They clasped hands, and after a quick embrace Slade turned, jogging away from Kozel toward the park before breaking into a full run once he crossed the street. Kozel walked back to the hover, got in, and drove slowly away towards home. As he rounded the corner at the end of the street, he thought he saw Slade disappear into a deeper section of the forest, but when he looked again, all he saw was trees.

  With trees flashing by him, Slade took off into hiding. It wouldn't be long before they had someone after him, if there wasn't someone after him already. He thought about his next move. Going back to the Agora wasn't an option. That would be the first place they'd look for him. Same thing with his dwelling back at The College.

  There were safe houses scattered throughout the world for Emissaries who needed a place to stay and be under the radar, but all of those would be watched. His last option wasn't the best one, but it was the only one he had at the moment. He needed to get to the Eastern United Territories as soon as he could. He had a hidden cache there, power cells, Royals, fake ID's. Everything he'd need to go underground. The only issue he had was getting there.

  As he came to the edge of the forest, he slowed. Though he couldn't see it, he could hear the roadway that was ahead, and the hovers that were travelling along it. Ok, Slade, he thought to himself, plan time. What have you got at your disposal? He knew that he would no longer have access to the wealth of supplies and opportunities that Control provided.

  He had his Boom Stick, and six charges. He was in a Crimean guard uniform, his Emissary uniform still at McDonald's covered in blood from his fight with the guards. He had some Royals with him, but not enough to travel far. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out his Tablet. That could come in handy, Slade thought. Wait a minute. I also have my internal drive and all the information on it. And my sub-dermal tattoo. Maybe this won't be as hard as I thought.

  Smiling to himself, he stepped out of the forest toward the highway. He flagged down the first hover he saw and, using the uniform he had pilfered from McDonald's office, commandeered the hover. He dropped the hover's owner at The Agora with instructions to charge a room to McDonald's office for the inconvenience. He quickly ran up to the room he had shared with Kozel, grabbed his bag, went out the back entrance, jumped back into the hover then sped off toward Kiev and an airport.

  As soon as he was out of the city and hit the M05, Slade put the hover on auto and consulted his Tablet. There was no news of anyone being after him. Crimean news stations were reporting Herman's death as a heart attack, but there was no mention of the smuggling operation that Herman and McDonald were involved in. McDonald's spin doctors were handling that one effectively.

  He accessed his drive, pulling up the Emissary manual. He quickly scanned the pages as they flowed across the windshield, stopping when he got to Section IV. He quickly read subsection ii, paragraphs two and three. There was no doubt about it, he was in trouble. But who would they send? His Beta was too old, and did not have the same set of skills he did. Would they send more than one? That was a troubling thought.

  A soft chime from the hover indicated that it was running low on fuel. Slade directed the hover to find the closest fuelling station. It was only three kilometers away. Slade suspended the windshield display, and resumed control of the hover. Pulling into the station, Slade exited the hover and walked into the concession as robotic arms filled the hover, cleaned the windshield and lights, and checked all the fluids.

  He reached into a cooler to grab a six-pack of soda. Shutting the glass door, he grabbed a ham sandwich and a chocolate bar from another cooler before heading up to the cashier. The automated teller had the total of his food purchases ready, and Slade paid the machine. The receipt produced indicated that the fuel was being charged to McDonald's territory account. While that was good, it meant that he had a government license plate. Too easy to track.

  Heading back to his hover, Slade spotted a derelict hover behind the station that still had a plate attached to it. He steered his hover beside it and quickly swapped the two plates. Even if caught on camera, he would have at least a few hours' head start on whomever was tracking him.

  Back on the M05, Slade resumed auto and reactivated the wind
shield. He booked a flight to the North American zone for early tomorrow morning using his personal credit. It was easily tracked, but there was nothing he could do about that right now. He needed to get to the airport. But first, he had a few changes to make. Reaching into the breast pocket of his uniform, Slade withdrew Kozel's ID card. He felt bad for swiping it, but it was the only way out of this country.

  He placed Kozel's image on the windshield, and Slade began to change. Slowly, Slade's hair grew darker, and shorter. His skin turned paler, and his cheekbones became more prominent. His eyes darkened to a deep indigo. Slade accessed his internal drive, pulling clips of Kozel's speech together. After a few minutes, the image of Kozel on the windshield and the image Slade saw in the hover's mirror matched. He opened his mouth to speak. When the voice came out, it was not his own:

  "My name...is...Dmytro Kozel."

  Ahead, the sky was beginning to darken as evening approached. The hover's headlights reflected against the painted lines of the highway. Though he knew he had to remain vigilant, Slade felt his eyes closing, being drawn into sleep after the frantic day he'd had. He reached forward, setting the hover's alarm to wake him one hundred kilometers before the borders of Kiev. On the radio, the voice of John Lennon began the first verse of Slade's favorite song:

  Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better...

  Relaxed for the first time in four days, Slade fell asleep with a smile.