Eye of the Syndicate

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Eye of the Syndicate Page 15

by Drew Avera


  I hesitated to answer. A part of me felt an obligation to check on him. The other…well, let’s just say if he was on fire, I didn’t feel the immediate need to piss on him to put him out. “It’s on the list and the doctor said I should keep a consistent schedule.”

  “That’s not really an answer, Halem. What do you want to do?” Her question edged towards nagging, but I knew it was coming from the right place.

  “Go home,” I said. The hollowness in my voice reflected how I felt inside. My response cast her gaze in my direction as I looked at her through the mirror, staring past the bruised mask I wore as a face. It was still mine, but I hardly recognized it.

  “I suppose that was inevitable,” she replied. Her tone was flat, but the disappointed look in her gaze was unquestionable.

  A knock at the door drove both of our attention away from each other as Roslyn stepped in, his arm in a sling as he gingerly navigated inside, careful not to step into any of the flower vases which seemed to multiply each morning. The well wishes of the councilmembers was appreciated, but it had gotten to the point of becoming cumbersome. “Pontiff, I see your face is looking better,” he said, the joke a mix between some kind of banter we shared as survivors of a terrible situation and the drugs the doctors gave him for the pain.

  “Yeah,” I said with a smirk. “Maybe we can go outside and play catch. What do you say?”

  He laughed as he plopped down beside Akran, matching her pose as he crossed his legs and draped his good arm over her shoulder. “Whatever you say, boss.”

  I turned and walked across the room, wondering how long this would last. I knew a romantic relationship between me and Akran would never survive, but I wanted, no needed, people in my life who cared. Two such individuals sat before me and I didn’t know how much of our closeness was forced upon us by the events from a week prior, and how much of it was natural.

  “I’m going home tomorrow, Roslyn,” I said after a moment.

  He glanced up at me, his smile fading. “I thought the doctors wanted you here for at least a month?”

  “The doctor agreed to continue treatment in Archea so I can get back to work. I already missed a World Council meeting and the speculation is running wild. I need to put out a few fires so we can move on with business as usual.”

  “Business as usual? You sound jaded, like a terrible thing didn’t just happen to you,” he said. his voice was tight as if he was fighting back tears, but it could have been from the pain of his gunshot wound. I tried not to take it personally.

  “A terrible thing is always a breath away. I’ve moved on from worse in my life. Believe me, it really is business as usual. I have obligations.” Hearing myself right now was a punch in the gut. The best part of the past week, other than surviving, was the growing friendship between the three of us. I felt like I was turning my back on it by returning to Archea. It probably felt the same to them no matter what kind of verbiage I used to justify my actions.

  “He leaves in eight hours, Roslyn,” Akran said softly, showing him the tablet with my itinerary.

  I expected more of a protest, but instead, Roslyn rose from his seat and confronted me with open arms. “I know this is going to sound strange, but I’m thankful that we were able to get to know one another as people, and not purely as superficial titles within the World Council. I truly respect you knowing what kind of man you really are.”

  I hugged him, careful not to put any pressure on his shoulder where the bullet struck him. “Thank you, Roslyn; not just for your kindness, but for being a great support for Akran. She’s going to need you as a rock now more than ever.”

  “Why is that?” he asked, gently pulling away from me.

  Akran stood beside him now, a full head shorter than him, but with a poise of confidence I didn’t recall her having a week ago. “Because Halem has intervened on my behalf and secured a new position for me within the World Council.”

  Roslyn glanced down at her, his jaw slack and his eyes wide. “What kind of position?”

  I smiled, the first happy one I could remember in a long time. “Your boss is the new chairman of the World Council for Clenist. It comes with a lot more responsibility, but also has a few added perks.”

  “That’s amazing!” Roslyn spat, on the verge of shouting as he hugged her tightly. “You totally deserve this.”

  “Thank you, Roslyn,” she said, her voice barely audible as she spoke directly into his chest.

  “That’s not all,” I interrupted.

  I waited as Roslyn slowly brought his attention back to me as I pulled a small box from my jacket pocket. “The World Council agreed to another suggestion I made based on what I witnessed this week.” His eyes darted down to the box as I opened it reverently, revealing the contents of it as a wave of excited energy flooded into the room. “You’re officially appointed as a councilmember for the World Council. You know what it takes to do the job and you are committed to the cause. I thought you would make a wonderful addition.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Roslyn said under his breath.

  “I’d like you to say yes without me having to get down on one knee,” I replied jokingly.

  Akran smiled a wide grin and placed her hand on his good shoulder. “I agree with Halem, though going down on one knee would make a great photo op.”

  Tears streaked down Roslyn’s face as he extended a trembling hand towards the World Council ring that I held out to him. He took it from the box and placed it reverently on his finger as the light of the room gleamed off the shiny surfaces. The red crest of the World Council stood out in stoic contrast, a beautiful ornament of power and authority.

  And responsibility.

  “I say yes,” he said after a moment of silence.

  “Welcome to the family,” I said. “Akran will take care of your transition over the coming weeks, but if either of you need anything, I’m just a call away.”

  “Thank you,” he said, “to both of you. I’m speechless.”

  “That’s a first,” Akran chided.

  “With that order of business done, there’s one more thing I must do before I return to Archea.” With my words, the temperature of the room seemed to drop. Thankfully, no one tried to talk me out of it, not that I would have blamed them.

  I just hoped I could get closure before the World Council insisted on the pending execution. I knew Pollux wasn’t the enemy, but he was certainly the scapegoat as far as the rest of the World Council was concerned.

  “Do you want us to go with you?” Akran asked.

  I shook my head as I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. “I think this might be something I need to do on my own. One last chance to say goodbye as friends.” I could see the protest in both of their eyes, but neither of them knew Pollux the way I had.

  Or the way I thought I had.

  If I ever really knew him at all.

  I shifted my weight from one foot to the other before stepping towards the door. “I wish there was another way,” I said, partially under my breath before I stepped out of the room to say goodbye to Pollux one last time. I felt guilty for not wanting to go, but it paled in comparison to how I felt about what was coming.

  Pollux had hours left to live, and in the wake of his execution, the World Council chose to revive the Agency. The hypocrisy of their decision weighed on me and I knew I had to do something to stop it. A world with an Agency would bring a reign of tyranny. We were on the verge of it already.

  I stepped into the elevator and waited for the doors to close. It was symbolic in a way; these final moments of my friend’s life were closing, and this was the last thing I could do for him; to tell him that I forgave him.

  I just hoped it wasn’t a lie when those words left my lips. He would know and I would carry the guilt of twisting the proverbial blade before his ultimate death. He deserved better.

  The elevator doors opened, and the harsh white light of the psych ward blinded me for a moment. I moved to step out of it, but a part of m
e refused to move. Instead, I stood there, one foot in the elevator and the other on the glossy tile of the ward. I held my breath and listened to the heavy beating of my heart thudding in my ears. He may have deserved better, but I knew that I couldn’t give it to him.

  I stepped back, allowing the doors to close once again.

  I couldn’t do it and I hoped he understood why.

  “I’m sorry, Pollux,” I whispered through my teeth, unconvinced that I meant what I said. I pressed the button for the lobby, not thinking about where I was going, but knowing I didn’t want to be here at the moment. As the elevator moved down, I placed my hand on the wall, ashamed that I wasn’t strong enough to tell him goodbye.

  I wasn’t half the man I thought I was.

  Micah’s words resonated when he told Akran that I was a man pretending to be a friend. I never thought about it until now, that maybe he was right. Perhaps I was pretending, gaining the trust of people for my own benefit. There were certainly examples of that behavior in my past. But that wasn’t who I wanted to be.

  “Dammit,” I hissed, hitting the stop button on the elevator to return to the ward. “If you don’t want to be that man, then stop acting like it.” I said to my reflection. The first step in change begins today.

  The elevator stopped once again on the psych ward floor, and when the doors opened, I took the first step.

  But this time I didn’t stop.

  About Drew Avera

  Drew Avera is a Navy veteran, musician, and the bestselling author of the Dead Planet series and the Alorian Wars. He grew up in Mississippi with his nose in a stack of comic books when he wasn’t terrorizing the neighborhood practicing his trumpet or guitar. Eventually, he left small-town life and enlisted in the Navy at the age of seventeen. Since 2000, he has deployed on various aircraft carriers as an aviation electrician and has accumulated more than four years on the open seas.

  Drew began his author career in 2012 with his book Exodus, and is best known for writing space opera, dystopian, and cyberpunk, though he enjoys writing in other genres as well. He lives in Virginia with his wife, daughters and two cats which may be plotting against him when he isn’t looking. For more information about Drew and his books, visit his website at www.drewavera.com.

  Follow Drew on Amazon!

  More to enjoy from Drew Avera

  The Dead Planet Series

  The Syndicate Series

  The Alorian Wars

  Chancerian

  Skye Byrn

 

 

 


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