by Drew Avera
“That dissolved quickly,” Jannah said as she fell into step beside me. An agent closed the door, muffling the sound of the media still flinging questions and accusations in my direction. “Any plans to call Councilwoman Tyrel to check up on her?”
“No,” I said. “I have a feeling these questions were loaded to make me feel like I should do just that. I think it’s a setup.”
“A setup for what?” Jannah asked.
I glanced over to her, “I think someone is trying to lure me into revealing something that could put our lives in jeopardy.”
“It’s just a call, sir.”
“That’s how it starts until they find a way to pervert what happened into sensationalism and outrage. I’ll have Pollux represent me for now.”
“You know that you can’t avoid dealing with her. You’ll be in her presence when you arrive in Clenist. It will surely be awkward for both of you.”
“perhaps, but I won’t be alone with her. That’s for sure,” I replied. “If my suspicions are true, then my life depends on not falling for the trappings of the heart. Thank you for your concern, but I have more pressing business that needs my attention.” I stepped into my office and closed the door with Jannah still standing outside. I needed time to think and I was sure I said more than I should have, but the puzzle pieces had just fallen out during the press conference.
I knew there was something odd about Akran’s message to me. She had never said, “I love you,” before. So, that begged the question of why now?
If I was being honest with myself, I was afraid to find the answer to that question.
Seven
Pollux
The streets of Clenist were different than I remembered them. Gone were the massive scaffolding which previously scaled the sides of the buildings under construction. Now, the towering structures stopped just beneath the curvature of the dome like giant fingers clamoring for a way out. As I looked up, I could see the reflections of the tops of those buildings in the acrylic-infused glass keeping everyone alive. Despite its thickness, it seemed like too little of a barrier between us and the outside world to be adequate protection. Perhaps I felt that way simply because I could see outside the confines of our prison?
A noise drew my attention back to the present.
Daytime in Outer Downtown bustled with activity. It was midday here and the restaurants teamed with guests which would completely disappear once the sun began its descent behind the horizon. Halem kept me abreast of the situation here, and I noticed a longing in his voice when he spoke about this place. He’d only visited twice since Akran was sent to Clenist; a matter of dispute due to her clinginess in a relationship that never should have been. He tried to hide his attachment, but I could see through his projected walls. Human psychology could be hacked if you knew what to look for. It was a trait which made me a valuable asset for interrogating the enemy.
I knew when they were lying.
I knew when I was being lied to by a friend as well.
Akran’s apartment was situated across the street from a small park. They chose peach and orange trees to create a tiny, yet beautiful, orchard. I heard children playing in the distance but could not see them through the trees. The sound drove me back to my own memories as a child. I didn’t reflect on it long before my programming self-corrected, setting my mind back to the mission with just enough of an electrical zap to set me back on course.
It appeared that was all I had left; a stray thought casually interrupted by the pressing business of the World Council. At least there was no longer the stabbing pain like an ice pick behind my eye to set me straight. This new version paled in comparison and gave me a sense of freedom I never thought I would have again. Still, freedom was relative, and I often wondered if I misperceived my life now by looking through the lens of the past.
I entered the apartment building and nodded to the officer stationed just inside the entrance. There was no doubt added security was protocol after such an event took place. I remembered the same orders carried out by the Guard after Marada was killed. That storm may have lasted less than a week, but it disrupted everything about the social balance of Archea. The secrets revealed sent people into a panic. Cries for revolt filled their lungs, but inaction was the only result. Soon, the people settled back into their lives like sheep.
But if you knew where to look, you could see the pattern forming again.
If the desire for change didn’t take root, then the same silencing would happen here once the recency of current events faded like a lackluster headline. Change didn’t happen with words. It happened with action, and everyone was too numb to take the first step once out of their comfort zones.
Who could blame them? I knew firsthand what the government was capable of. Was it better now? I wished I could say yes, but the truth wasn’t that simple.
Nothing in life ever was.
Another officer sat at the door outside Akran’s apartment. I stopped as he glanced up casually. I could see he didn’t take his job securing the councilwoman too seriously, but neither would I given the fact no one would try to take her life in broad daylight. Especially with all the added security here.
“Do you have business with Councilwoman Tyrel?” He asked with a gruff voice. He rose from his chair and stood facing me, his eyes studying me, void of emotion. His hands fell to his belt, inches from his firearm in case he needed it.
He wouldn’t.
If he did, then he would already be dead.
“I’m here representing Pontiff Scrimpshire,” I said. “He sent me to check on Councilwoman Tyrel’s condition.”
“Can I see your identification, please?”
I pulled my jacket open enough for him to see the ID pinned to my shirt. It was the only form of identification I owned, and it was a lie. The name was the one I went by in this new life, but it hardly represented who I truly was. Pollux was the name of my agent designation. Mala was the name of the man whose life was cut short to make Pollux possible.
It carried the sad undertones of my being nothing more than Frankenstein’s Monster in a sense.
“I need to check your bag.”
I handed it over and watched as he patted it down, neglecting to unzip it and examine the contents. Not every weapon came hidden in a duffle bag. If anyone sent me for the councilwoman, then her life would not end by usual means. How casually the fact came to my mind should have been cause for concern, but the truth was difficult to bury. I always contemplated how I would end the life of my next target when put to the task. Oddly enough, it was a mental exercise which put me at ease when my anxiety had no other means to vacate my mind.
The officer nodded and cleared his throat. “It’s clear. You’re good to pass,” he said, reclaiming his seat.
“Thank you,” I replied as I grabbed my bag from him and stepped past. Less than a dozen steps later I knocked at the door.
A young man opened it, his gray suit tailored to his tall frame like an advertisement on a holo-display. “Can I help you, sir?”
“I’m here to see Councilwoman Tyrel.”
He glanced over his shoulder, his smile fading for a moment as she came into view. I knew why. If this was a hit, then she put herself at risk by exposing herself. It was a lapse in judgement which should be addressed, though I doubted she would hear it.
“Hello, Pollux. It’s been a long time,” Akran said. “It’s all right, Roslyn. Let the agent come in.”
The man I now knew as Roslyn stepped out of the way, holding the door for me as his manufactured smile greeted me once again.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that Halem didn’t come,” Akran said after Roslyn closed the door.
“He wanted to—”
“But he has a busy schedule? Save it. I know the truth.” Akran walked to the kitchen and I followed, my bag still slung over my shoulder. She seemed to notice when she looked back and spoke, “Roslyn, can you take Pollux’s bag, please?”
“Yes, ma’am,�
� Roslyn said, grabbing hold of the strap and walking away with it, leaving the two of us alone.
“I was briefed on your injuries. Are you holding up all right?”
“I’ll live,” she said coldly. I knew it wasn’t directed at me, but it was a guise to cover for her hurt feelings that I was here instead of Halem. I was unsure how she thought she could expect any different. Tensions were high, and speculation was still in the air about their relationship. Regardless of how they framed it, a relationship was the only suitable description for it. Casual, or not.
“The Pontiff will be happy to know this.”
“Right,” she said as she poured a drink. The cantor was half-empty, and I wondered if this was how she had spent her day, drinking to medicate herself.
“I was tasked with helping identify areas in urgent need of securing to help prevent this from happening again. If you have anything to add to my report, I will be more than happy to run it past you before forwarding it to Pontiff Scrimpshire.”
“Yeah, I do have something I would like to add. Perhaps he will hear it better coming from you. We need to get funding for more law enforcement. We have people out of work who can be trained for the job, but with no way of paying salaries, our hands are tied. The problem has a simple solution. Money,” she said sarcastically. It was another jab at someone else and I was the one left to take the brunt of it. I was reminded of what it was like when she still lived in Archea. She carried an air of superiority that made it difficult to take her seriously.
At least for me.
“Understood,” I replied, my tone even.
She handed me a glass without my asking and I took it, holding it with no desire to consume the alcohol. I was on duty and inebriation would hinder my cognitive functions. Not to mention wreak havoc on my artificial augmentations. If a stray thought prompted self-correction, then I could only imagine how uncomfortable the decision to drink would make me.
“Are you going to drink that, or not?” Akran asked as she pulled her glass from her lips.
“I don’t have a taste for drink,” I said, trying to be polite.
She scoffed and took the glass. “I swear, between you and Roslyn, I have the most boring company in life.” She finished off the rest of her glass before focusing on the one she took from me.
“I apologize. I should have—”
“Don’t.” She interrupted. “I don’t need you to apologize. I just need to feel safe, or not to feel at all. Either sensation would be welcomed after the night I had.” She placed the second empty glass on the counter and walked towards the living room where Roslyn placed my bag. “You said you have work to do? I suggest you take a look around the southern sector of Outer Downtown while the sun is up. You’ll see a distinction once nighttime arrives.” Her speech slurred the more she spoke, and I noticed a weave to her walk. At first, I thought it may have been from her injuries until I heard slurred speech when she acknowledged me. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
I took that as my cue to leave.
Akran plopped down into a chair as Roslyn reentered the room, holding her medicine bottle in one hand with a severe frown on his face. I made eye contact with him for a moment before his attention moved back to the councilwoman as she drooped in her seat, looking like she was poured into place from the very glass she just consumed.
The effects of the alcohol hit her fast, I thought as I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I pieced together the fact that Roslyn held medicine bottles in his hand and as he checked over her, that he was concerned about the effects of the alcohol with the pills. “Do you need help with her?” I asked.
“No, I need her to not be reminded of the past she’s trying to put behind her,” Roslyn snapped with a harsh exhale. Whatever he wanted to get off his chest wasn’t going to go far with me. I didn’t know if the remark had as much to do with the previous night as it did her past with Halem, but I knew which way I was leaning.
“I’ll see myself out then,” I said.
Neither of them responded.
Eight
Micah
The World Council building was a veritable zoo after the report of Akran’s assault made headlines. Even my staff had to help support the numerous calls, not just from journalists, but others in the World Council as they speculated wildly that this was an intentional, targeted attack.
Nothing could be further from the truth, though it did raise some questions as to what might happen if someone did set their sights on one of us.
“Khari, can you come here a minute?” I said as I shuffled between screens on my tablet. Each news report drove me to want to toss it out of the window. I just hoped I could rein in the disaster before it uncovered something even my resources could not contain. Damage control was not my forte, but it was a talent my less than esteemed aid carried from his previous life.
“Yes, sir?”
I handed him the device. “Contact those agencies and have them on board with the same framing of the story. We have no reason to assume this was politically driven. Have them spin it so that it appears like a random assault by two desperate men. I’m getting tired of fielding unnecessary calls due to their poor investigative skills.”
“Yes, sir,” Khari said as he took it to his side of the office where his desk sat in the corner behind a partition. I heard him speak as he made the call, but the muffle of his voice made it hard to understand. Not that I wanted to pay close attention anyway. I had my own business to conduct and he was more than trustworthy when it came to doing as he was told. His nervousness couldn’t take that away from him.
My comm chimed again and I snatched it up. “Hello?”
“Councilman Troth, I’m surprised to hear your voice. I assumed you would have taken a personal day after what happened to Akran.” Vesnor spoke condescendingly to everyone, but most ignored it. I, on the other hand, took offense to it. Just not in the way he expected. I knew better than to let his trolling get the best of me.
“Akran’s life has no bearing on my own, Vesnor. Our work is not done,” I said through a heavy exhale. I hated being micro-managed, and even if he denied it, I knew that was exactly what Vesnor was doing by calling me.
“Try not to work yourself into a grave, son.” I hated how he called me that.
“What, and leave you to make all the decisions about how best to restore the World Council? I don’t think so. Your vision is too narrow minded for it to sit right with me. It needs more direction if we are to succeed,” I replied.
A sound similar to a chuckle emanated on the other end of the line. “I’ll miss our banter once this is done. You have a way of reminding me why I never had children,” he said. it was meant to be an insult, but I wasn’t biting.
“We have a long way to go. I’m sure you’ll tire of me yet.”
“Likewise,” he said.
“Too late, I’m already there. Besides, I’m the charming one in this relationship,” I replied, unable to fight the grin from spreading on my face. For all his faults, and his ruthlessness, I actually liked Vesnor. He reminded me of my uncle growing up. His gruff attitude wasn’t the only thing which defined him.
“I see. Then I guess I’ll leave you to do my bidding. I assume last night’s attack will have no bearing on the Pontiff’s visit?” It was about time he got to his point.
“None that I can speak of yet. I’ll keep you posted if anything changes.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way. Clenist is long overdue with a visit from the Pontiff. If we are to have our way, then we need to seize control. I want these street urchins kept on a tight leash. Another attack like last night will bring the spotlight on Clenist with more attention than we want at this time.”
“I’m aware of that. I handled the situation from last night.”
“I’m sure you did. Let’s hope this lesson is one that sticks with them,” he said, barely above a whisper.
“Agreed. Now, I have to get back to work. Clenist doesn’t run
itself, you know?”
Vesnor chortled. “That’s what you want me to think, but I know better. Otherwise, last night would not have gone the way it did.”
The line went dead, and I shook my head as I dropped the receiver into place. “Old bastard,” I said as I leaned back in my seat and stared out of the window. It was just past noon and the brilliancy of the sunlight gleaming over the crest of the dome created a prism effect which was magnificent to behold. The engineers said it was an effect created by a blemish in the construction of the dome, but the flaw held no danger. It was nice that flaws could still display beauty at a time like this. It reminded me to hold onto hope and to stay the course. We were weeks away from taking control of Clenist, and then the World Council.
Barring any more unforeseen circumstances.
“Councilman,” Khari said from behind me.
“Yes?”
“I sorted out the news reports. Each outlet will submit a retraction and reframe the reporting as you suggested.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Khari.”
“You’re welcome, sir,” Khari replied, an air of confidence in his voice. I rather enjoyed how easy it was to boost his confidence. All it took was a kind remark and he warmed right up. If only the same was true for the rest of this dismal society, then we wouldn’t be in the predicament we found ourselves in currently.
I hoped it was possible to dig our way out and restore the vision of our society back to what it once was. We may have lost our way after Tetrim was killed, but it didn’t mean we had to follow the new course to our own detriment. There was another way to bring Martian society to the future with prosperity.
I just hoped the damage done by Halem to “fix” the perceived problems in Archea hadn’t set us back too far. There was one thing that held more truth the more I looked at the Pontiff and his policies. Not only had Halem Scrimpshire overstepped his boundaries, he had overstayed his welcome.
