Bourne

by Ell Leigh Clarke

  “Come on son, let’s be having you,” he said casually, taking out his pocket watch and checking the time. “I have an assignment to give the class before the final bell.”

  The other groaned, rubbing his head as he staggered to his feet. “That bloody hurt!” he protested.

  “Well, that’s what happens when you bomb someone’s classroom. We were in the middle of rewriting history. On the verge of a breakthrough… and avoiding the Cantopole Wars.” He paused. “And then you miscreants happened.”

  Giles’s head turned quickly back to the school — he noticed a number of his students spilling out of the building and heading across the lawn in his direction. “This is them now. You can apologize in person!”

  The boys complained, protecting their honor by declaring they would do no such thing. Giles pulled some cable wraps from the leg of his atmosuit pocket and bound their hands. The first one sat himself uncomfortably on the ground while Giles bound his counterpart. Just then the first of the students was within earshot.

  “Ah, Soraya. I’m glad you’re here. Give me a hand getting these two back in, would you?”

  Soraya looked horrified. “You caught them? These are the culprits?”

  “Yes, they are.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Plus one who got away,” Giles explained matter-of-factly. “However, we’ll have him shortly as well, just as soon as these boys tell us where to find him.”

  “But you… you stopped them? On your own? Without any police?”

  Giles, not quite grasping her disbelief, nodded. “Yes. Now you take this one, and I’ll follow with this one,” he said, shoving the first boy into Soraya’s grasp.

  Stunned by Giles’s actions and the task he had given her, Soraya carefully took the boy by the arm while keeping as much distance between him and herself as possible. He was a good two feet taller than her and could easily have escaped her. But she realized Giles would latch onto him again. She hoped.

  Just then Joshua came jogging up. “Hey, prof,” he called out. “We’ve called the police. They’re on their way.”

  “Shit!” Giles muttered.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Means we have less time to interrogate these toads,” he replied. “Okay, there’s nothing else for it. We’ll have to start quickly. Come on. Fast. Help me get them back to the classroom. I need five minutes alone with them before the police get here.”

  The blood drained from the two captive’s faces. But on the faces of Soraya and the other students was something quite different. In fact, if Giles hadn’t been an expert in face reading, he might have missed that they were actually plastered with expressions of new-found respect for their professor.

  The smoke-bomb guy that Soraya was holding onto spun around and glared at Giles. “You think you’ve got it all made here, don’t you. With your fancy new university and students saying yes sir, no sir. But there are a lot of people unhappy about what you’re teaching here. They’re calling it communism… which has never succeeded!”

  Giles rolled his eyes at the pedestrian comment.

  “This is the problem with a society brainwashed with meaningless soundbites. It robs its young people of the chance to learn and to think for themselves. Look at this poor schmuck — I’ll bet you’ve never thought out one of your opinions for yourself. Ever.”

  “I have!” the boy protested. “I think about it all the time.”

  Giles turned around to see half of the class assembling on the lawn within earshot of the unofficial interrogation. He saw he had an audience, and slipped into lecture-mode. He turned his attention back to the delinquent who was arguing with him.

  “Yes,” Giles continued, lifting his voice to turn what happened into a teaching point. “And I wonder if we were to talk to the three people you’ve spent the most time with how different those opinions will be.”

  He waved his arm in the direction of his class. “What these students are doing is taking in information and trying on new ideas that will help them come to better conclusions. To have better opinions about what can work so that they can create change in the world. You’d do well to take a leaf out of their book.”

  The boy’s face was sullen. He lowered his eyes and spoke more quietly now. Giles had to step closer to make out what he was saying. “Actually,” the boy retorted, “I tried to get in. My face didn’t fit though,” he added angrily.

  Giles frowned. “But you took the entrance exam?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well it’s done on a meritocracy…” he announced confidently. Then he hesitated. “But once the police are done with you, come see me. We’ll see what we can do for you.”

  Giles’s classroom

  Detective Baz Lato approached Giles as he perched on one of the student desks in his class room. Most of the class had dispersed already. But not before being given their next assignment. Giles had made sure of that as he spoke to a few that still hung around.

  “May I have a word?” the detective called over to Giles.

  Giles excused himself from the handful of students milling around and joined the detective at the door of the classroom.

  “Detective Lato, right?” Giles asked.

  “That’s right,” the detective confirmed. “It seems that our suspects have nothing more to say.” He looked at Giles with suspicion. “Say they’ve already said everything they were going to say.”

  “Oh, yes?” Giles asked innocently.

  “Yeah.”

  The detective paused. “All they would tell our guys was that their object was, and I quote, to shake things up.”

  Giles frowned, pretending to be confused. “What does that mean?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, but these kids are known trouble makers. Despite their education they’ve been involved in all manner of rallies and protests.”

  “Oh yes?” Giles muttered, his eyes alight with interest.

  “Yeah. Even been in a little trouble over criminal damage here and there… but charges were always dropped.” The detective’s piercing eyes bore down on Giles with interest.

  “Hmm,” Giles said thoughtfully, looking off into the distance.

  “Something you want to share?” the detective pressed.

  Giles shook his head, shaking himself from his own thoughts so that he could deal with the detective without giving away his theory. “Oh no. Nothing… it’s just interesting to wonder what brought them on this path. Terrible, terrible business.”

  Giles removed his glasses, cleaned them, and then replaced them.

  The detective nodded, taking his leave. “Well, if you think of anything else…”

  “Of course,” Giles responded, hands in pockets watching the detective leave the doorway and amble down the corridor to where his men were holding the boys.

  Soraya appeared by his elbow. “So?” she asked.

  Giles glanced down at her. “So what?” he asked back.

  She grinned. “So, did you tell him?”

  Giles shook his head. “Course not.” He strode back into the class room.

  “So does that mean we’re going to work the case ourselves?” she asked brightly, capturing the attention of the rest of the students, abandoning their conversation and looking from Soraya to Giles.

  Giles spun around in surprise. “Goodness no,” he told them. “There’s no ‘we’ in this!”

  Soraya’s face fell.

  There were mutterings of protest and discontent amongst the others.

  Giles’s expression suddenly changed, as if he had just had a light bulb moment.

  “No. Not we. YOU!” he corrected himself, looking at them poignantly.

  Soraya’s eyes widened. “How come?”

  Giles put a finger to his lips. “Not here. But when they’re gone…” He pointed with the same finger in the direction of the next classroom.

  The small group of students nodded their understanding and arrangements were made to meet somewhere more private.

  Undiscl
osed Location, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria

  “Oh no, leave the lights off, Rhodez!” Giles called over to the confident, strapping young undergrad.

  Rhodez dropped his hand away from the light switch as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

  Giles smiled dryly. “I prefer for these proceedings to have as much a conspiratorial feel as possible.”

  Soraya shifted on the desk she was sitting on, and then looked at her hand that had brushed the top. “It certainly feels dark and dirty,” she muttered.

  As Rhodez peered into the storage room, he could start to make out the outline of other students who were also sworn to the secrecy of what they were about to do. There was a chuckle amongst the other students who had assembled there, in response to Soraya’s comment. All five had been in the classroom when the detective had come to speak with Giles, plus two more who had gotten wind of the meeting and invited themselves. Raza and Ake. Raza was Soraya’s BFF. No way Soraya would be in on something without Raza as her sidekick. And Ake? Ake was just one of those guys that had to be at the center of everything. And being on Estaria, as an Ogg descendant, seemed to only make his compulsion worse.

  Rhodez allowed the door to close quietly behind him and he shuffled over to lean against one of the shelving units. Giles stood in the opening in the storage room, the light from a couple of holos providing just enough illumination for them to see, but not enough light to be seen under the door.

  “Okay, here’s what we know,” Giles said. “At 16:23 this afternoon our classroom was breached by two smoke bombs thrown by three perpetrators…”

  Elroy, one of the originals from the classroom discussion, perched on a step ladder at the back of the group chuckling to himself. “Be still my ancestors,” he chuffed, “this is a real mission! Bates-style!”

  Giles’ face turned to stone.

  “Actually, it’s Kurns-style,” he corrected with an air of authority they’d never seen before. “Not that you’d know anything about my secret adventures, but some of us have been doing this long before Ms. Bates was a twinkle in her father’s eye.”

  Only Soraya, sitting directly in front of him, noticed the hint of hurt in the corner of his eye where his vulnerability betrayed him.

  The students settled down again. They were finally seeing the real Giles Kurns, and they could barely contain their excitement.

  Giles returned to his discourse.

  “Our aim is to find out what all this is about. Why did those boys act? Who got them to act? How did they recruit and persuade them? What was their intended outcome? What is their end game?”

  The students were awestruck by the string of questions they vaguely recognized from their classes on strategic negotiations.

  “This,” Giles continued, “will give us the raw material to create a strategy map for whatever game they have going on.”

  Dhashana, one of the more beautiful physically, but plain in terms of her level of intelligence, managed to connect the dots. “You mean like we were doing for the Cantopole Wars?

  “Yes!” Giles pointed at her excitedly. The others couldn’t tell whether his excitement was about the strategy or the fact that Dhashana had recognized the process.

  “Except,” he continued, “this isn’t history. It’s happening right now. And we all know what influence we can have at critical points. Today’s incident could have gone another way entirely.”

  Giles started pacing in the tiny little area that was his storage cupboard ‘stage’. “It could have marked the beginning of the end of free thinking. But instead, it didn’t.”

  He stopped and turned around and paced in the other direction. “It could mark the beginning of the end of ignorance. It could be a new era for a new way of founding effective governance!”

  Giles’s passion seeped through into his words and hand gestures. “It might even be a valuable learning experience for those involved in this exercise.”

  There was a pause when another voice interrupted the beat. “Do we get extra credit then, sir?”

  All eyes in the darkness turned in the direction of the voice. It was Cleavon. Cleavon was Estarian, and what his class mates would call an Eager Beaver. He was top of the class in most classes… although there were rumors that Soraya might have been beating him in this one.

  Giles paused, contemplating a graceful response. “Is that why you’re here?” he asked finally.

  “No sir.”

  “Well then why are you here?”

  “Because…” Cleavon drew out his answer slowly, giving himself time to think. “I wanted to be a part of something exciting.”

  “Well then you have your answer,” Giles said.

  Cleavon nodded his understanding and lowered his eyes in embarrassment at his tactless question.

  Giles turned his attention back to the group. “After three minutes alone with those perpetrators we learned the following. They were hired by some guy called Arnold Sloth. Apparently he showed up in a nice car, but went to great lengths to hide it before their meeting. Our guy only saw it because he thought to follow him. We don’t know why Arnold Sloth wanted to hire the boys but it seems that it was likely on behalf of someone else. No one by the name of Arnold Sloth has anything to do with the university.”

  Raza raised her hand. “What about relations?”

  Giles pointed at her. “That would be a good thing for you to check into.”

  Raza nodded and took a note on her holo.

  Giles scanned the other faces in the cramped room. “The other things we need to know are where is he from? Who is he associated with? I want to know everything from which kindergarten he went to, to all known associations, relationships… the works. All eyes on this guy. Understood?”

  The students busied themselves taking notes and deciding who would do what.

  After a few moments of chatter Giles called for their attention. “Okay, that’s it,” he called in a hushed whisper. “You know what you have to do. We’ll convene back here in three night’s time. Twenty-two hundred. Oh, and in the meantime, I shouldn’t need to remind you…”

  The students hung on his every word.

  “Rule number one of fight club…” He paused, waiting for someone to fill in the rest.

  No one did.

  “No one talks about fight club,” he finished, glancing around at the blank faces.

  “Oh good lord. You people need a cultural education. Extra credit goes to the first person who can tell me which Earth movie it comes from.”

  No one raised their hand.

  Giles sighed. “Okay. Class dismissed.”

  The students started chattering quietly but excitedly amongst themselves as they gathered their jackets and belongings and filed out of the storage room.

  Giles watched them leave, cleaning his glasses as he absorbed the moment.

  There was no doubt about it.

  Giles Kurns, Space Archeologist, was back.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Common Area

  Paige, Jack and Maya sat around in the common area, delving into the snacks Paige had ordered in. It was late in the evening, but everyone had become preoccupied with solving the Baby Oz problem — not to mention, just getting their brains wrapped around the idea of another Oz out there.

  Paige unpeeled a straw and poked it into a blue-green concoction she had been particularly excited about ordering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Slurpies are the best high.”

  Jack eyed Paige cautiously. “You do realize that sugar is the most toxic unregulated drug you can put into a solution, right?”

  Paige grinned. “Yeah. But if it wasn’t safe the authorities on Estaria wouldn’t allow it.”

  Maya and Jack exchanged knowing glances. Jack couldn’t help herself. “It’s banned on Ogg?”

  Paige frowned, now sucking the ice-cold slushie froth through her straw. After a moment she seemed to reach a conclusion. “Maybe it’s just dangerous to the Ogg physiology…”

 
; Maya prodded her own straw into her grass-green smoothie. “Yeah. Maybe that’s right. And maybe Estarians and humans are immune to the effects.”

  Paige narrowed her eyes. “Was that your sarcastic voice?”

  Maya smiled at Jack who seemed to share in the conspiracy to allow Paige to figure it out for herself.

  The sound of footsteps out in the foyer area stopped their debate. Jack stepped around the big screen in the common area. “It’s just Sean,” she muttered as she returned to the table of drinks and snacks.

  “What’s going on?” Maya asked.

  Jack shrugged, inspecting the brown smoothie that Paige handed her. “He was talking earlier about making his case to Molly later, off line, when she might be more receptive. Guess he’s going to do that now.”

  Paige, her brain hurting from the icy drink, put it down and reached for a bag of junk food. “Oh yeah? What does he think we should be doing?”

  Jack pursed her lips. “Well, the General told us we were to either liberate Baby Oz, or capture him, or… you know…” She lowered her eyes and became intent on studying the contents of her drink.

  “Kill him?” Paige said, speaking the unthinkable.

  Jack nodded, her eyes still on the smoothie. “Yeah, and make sure that the Estarian military can never develop one again. Until they — you know — evolve a bit more.”

  Paige scowled. “Who’s to say they are or aren’t evolved, though? At what point are they deemed competent enough?”

  Jack shrugged. “In answer to the ‘who’ part of your question, The General by the sounds of it. As to what point? I dunno.”

  She finally looked at the two girls, the understanding of the impossible decision Molly was facing echoing behind her eyes. “It’s a tough call. I’m just glad I don’t need to make it. But Sean,” she jerked her head in the direction of the corridor he had just disappeared down, “he seems to think we need to move fast. And aggressively, if we’re going to have half a chance of containing this.”

  Maya raised an eyebrow. “Faster than Molly is already moving?”