The Fiercest Craving

by Max Jager

  by the accused. However, the clear indicators of strangling trauma appear on the victim's neck. Everything clear so far?"

  Erand nodded.

  "Good, well now that you know the facts, the first thing you'll need to establish is a motive. Clearly you might have suspected something when I mentioned the terms 'venture capitalist' and 'startup'. Obviously, Wright had sought Eckram's venture capital firm for funding for his company. Eckram agreed that Wright had a solid business plan and began to provide funding. Mind you this was about six months ago during the height of the Technological Revolution. All was going well for a few months as Wright's company made enough profit to return Eckram's investment five-fold. And then, as you know, the downturn hit, and what was once a four-hundred percent return for Eckram dwindled to a forty-five percent loss. Fearing the safety of the remainder of his capital, Eckram withdrew his support of Wright's company, taking the fifty-five percent loss on his investment. Naturally, the prestige of being backed by such a prominent venture capital firm was a driving factor in the early success of Wright's startup, and having lost that, his company continued to fall deeper into the red. A month later, he had no choice but to declare bankruptcy and lose all his assets in the process."

  "I see," Erand said. "So you're saying that the motive for the murder was the loss of financial support on the part of Eckram's firm?"

  "Precisely," Serann agreed. "Well now you know the case and the drill. Establish motive, call witnesses, present evidence and use your reasoning to refute the defense's claims. Luckily for you, all Wright could get himself was a public defender. Not as bright as those who own or work for private firms in my opinion.

  "Finally, I cannot stress enough that while a win here won't boost your reputation as a prosecutor tremendously, a loss will certainly reflect very poorly on your abilities and damage the faith of the public in the prosecutor's office as well. It is of utmost importance that you claim victory in this trial."

  "I won't let you down, sir," Erand said brightly.

  Serann stared at his watch, which now showed ten minutes to ten o' clock. "You best take your position at the prosecutor's desk. Now go in there and prosecute without regrets. As an overseer of new attorneys, I'll be evaluating your performance from the audience. You can expect a report after the conclusion of the trial."

  Erand's eyes met his superior's for one last time as he gathered the case files and opened the large wooden door that separated the lobby from the courtroom.

  One week later...

  1:12 p.m.

  Erand subconsciously drummed his fingers on the prosecutor's table as he waited for the jury to return from deliberation. He went over the course of the trial in his mind as he did so.

  Strong opening statement, check. Credibility of all witnesses, check. Establishment of motive, check. Presentation of all key forensic evidence, check. Main points of the defense successfully refuted, check. Strong closing statement, check. Overall, not bad for my first major trial. Perhaps I need to work on calming my nerves and making good eye contact.

  The door behind the jury's bench cracked open, and Erand could feel his pulse rising dramatically. One by one, the jurors filed in and took positions in front of their respective seats.

  "Has the jury reached a verdict?" the judge inquired.

  "We have, Your Honor," replied a graying man, who appeared to be the wisest among the group.

  The judge nodded. "Very well, let's hear it."

  Erand chanced a glance at the defendant's face, which appeared to have lost all its color.

  "We the jury find the defendant, William Blaine Wright, guilty on the charge of the murder of Lance Victor Eckram in the first degree."

  Erand could no longer see the defendant's face, as his head was bowed and instead turned to the audience to observe Eckram's widow. She was a remarkably beautiful woman, even in the midst of shedding tears, and Erand's heart leapt when she smiled gratefully in his direction. Breathing a sigh of relief, he turned back to his desk and gathered all his papers together.

  "Well done, Drel." Erand heard a voice coming from behind him. He turned and saw that Serann had come to congratulate him.

  "Thank you, sir," Erand responded, still in a daze over his victory.

  "You've achieved virtually perfect results," Serann praised. "Just work on that eye contact, and you'll be a fine prosecutor."

  9:00 a.m.

  Erand had been told to relax for three days before returning to the prosecutors' office to receive his next assignment. He did so, promptly arriving at his superior's quarters. The door was a highly polished white oak with the words "Winston Serann" engraved near the top in gold lettering. Erand knocked twice and waited for a "come in" before entering.

  Serann stood up from his leather chair. "You'll have to excuse me for a couple minutes while I use the restroom, Drel. In the meantime, please wait patiently."

  Erand nodded, and proceeded to look around the fairly immaculate and spacious office. Two fully packed bookshelves lined the right side of the office facing away from the door, while the left featured a couple paintings. One depicted a boy and girl playing in a meadow overlooking a vast lake, while another was a very well done portrait of a woman, whom Erand recognized as Serann's wife. On Serann's desk stood a large flat-screen monitor as well as a keyboard and mouse. Their wires were neatly joined together with zip ties and ran through a hole in the desk to the desktop situated below. Erand also spotted a manila folder labeled "Wright Case" lying on the desk as well. He knew perfectly well that he had the case memorized by heart but decided to take a peek anyway. The file appeared normal with the exception of a note appended to the end of the last page. It dated one day before the trial and read: "Actual cause of death: suicide by hanging. Motive for suicide: the leaking of Eckram's gay relationship with Wright to the media. Although the story was not released in the end, Eckram's fear of public scrutiny drove him to hang himself. It appears that Wright was bribed by Eckram into having a homosexual relationship and declaring bankruptcy of his own company in exchange for a staggering amount of personal wealth."

  The bitter truth stretched out even further on the note, but Erand had no time to read it, as he heard footsteps approaching from behind. He quickly closed the file and turned his attention to the portrait of Serann's wife as the man himself re-entered.

  "A James Edward work, that is," Serann said approvingly. "Cost me about a hundred twenty thousand GC's to have it done.

  "This of course is a plasma print replica," he added in response to Erand's raised eyebrow. "Great tech really. Allows them to render the image perfectly, while causing minimal damage to the original. Anyways, on to your next case."

  Erand left his superior's office a half hour later, case file in hand. Everything Serann had told him in his second briefing, however, seemed to enter in through one ear and exit the other without undergoing any processing by the brain. All he could think of was the fact that he had successfully convicted a man innocent on the charge he was accused of. Had this all been an act to test his abilities as a prosecutor? What about the widow's weeping and her thankful smile? Was that simply a sham? Walking to his office with a quick stride, he tightly clenched the file and stared at the ground, not sparing even a glance at anyone he passed.

  I studied law and became a prosecutor to protect the innocent, not incarcerate them! he thought furiously. I have no choice but to reveal the truth, and if doing so will cost me my reputation and job, so be it.

  B3 Chapter 3

  III

  11:56 a.m.

  The prosecutor's office stood among many government buildings surrounding one central plaza, which contained a large food court available to all the workers in that area. Unable to concentrate on his new case because of the injustice he had just unearthed, Erand decided to have, by his standards, an early lunch. The grand entrance to the lavish lobby of the office building was flanked on either side by two glass fountains made in the image of a hammer and a halberd. Erand assumed
that the hammer symbolized justice but didn't know what to make of the other weapon. He shrugged and made his way to the vast food court.

  If only I knew the full contents of that note, he thought agitatedly as he walked. A lot of things don't add up here. If Eckram gave Wright a ton of wealth in exchange for the things mentioned then why did Wright simply go with a free public defender? And obviously, if this was a suicide, some foul play must have occurred in order to make it look like a homicide. But the biggest inconsistency here is why Wright would agree to Eckram's terms. Was the homosexual attraction between them mutual? Did Eckram's wife even know he was cheating on her with another man? Does he even have a wife? Of course he does; it was a publicly announced wedding a couple years ago. And also, why would Eckram ask Wright to intentionally declare bankruptcy? Hmph. They didn't test reasoning skills on the Selection Exam for nothing. What if Serann expected me to read that note in the first place? I doubt he'd obliviously leave something of such gravity unattended, especially in the presence of the last person he would want to see it. Is he trying to test my reasoning by observing how I react to the note?

  Erand could have continued to think about this at length except that a ring coming from the Smart Phone in his pocket interrupted his train of thought. The device, half the size of his palm, displayed the animation of an envelope opening and a paper slipping partially out of it repeatedly.

  A text? Or an email perhaps.

  He touched the envelope on the screen, displaying the message: "Royale Prison Visitor's Room, 2 p.m. tomorrow. I have all the answers you seek."

  Erand looked at the sender ID but saw only a seemingly random jumble of alphanumeric characters.

  A prisoner? Erand thought dubiously. How the hell could a prisoner know my cell address let alone be able to send a message without the prison guard noticing? This is just too convenient. First I notice that note and mere hours later I get a text from someone who knows the answers? What would Hathren do? A tough guess. He undoubtedly would be intrigued for the same reasons that I am, but at the same time, his reason would advise against it. The day I became a prosecutor, he ceased to be my legal guardian; he will always be a friend and colleague, but as head of surgery in Royale General, he is clearly too busy for such an inquiry on my part, the answer to which should be obvious. But still, I'll regret not taking this lead. I just have to trust that security at the prison is in good working order.

  One day later, 1:40 p.m.

  Claiming to have a brief, urgent matter to attend to, Erand made his way to the basement of the office, which doubled as a Federal Institution Transit station, allowing any government worker to navigate between all the federal buildings in Royale with ease. Erand boarded the eastbound train, which would take him to the penitentiary in four stops and twelve minutes. He arrived in good time, glancing at his watch to find that he had made it to the front of the prison with five minutes to spare until the meeting. Cautiously entering the visitor's room, with its characteristic booths separating prisoners and visitors with polymerized glass panes and security guards stationed at every corner, Erand sighed and took a seat on a metal bench protruding from the back wall. Moments later, a guard approached him.

  "Prosecutor Erand Drel? You're here to see Azer Blain correct? Well he's ready when you are."

  Erand's heart stopped momentarily. Azer Blain? My biological father? What the hell does he know about all this?

  He smiled and nodded, keeping his outer composure perfectly steady.

  "Right then, booth number five if you will."

  Erand gulped and sat down on the crumpled fabric seat of the chair. He watched in horror as a man whom he'd detested his entire life sat down a mere three feet from him behind the glass pane. He appeared poorly shaven and sallow-skinned, placing any estimate of his age well past its actual value of thirty-six. He gazed right through Erand with his hazel eyes, eyes that had appeared so cold and heartless the last time Erand saw them.

  "Erand, my lad, it's been a while," he greeted nostalgically.

  "I hope you realize this doesn't mean I'll forgive you for what you've done," Erand said dismissively.

  Azer frowned. "I could care less about what you think of me, you bastard."

  The truth of the words surprisingly seemed to assail Erand like a poisonous bite. "Fine then, so what were you implying by 'all the answers I seek?'"

  The inmate reached into the hem of his orange shirt and pulled out a scrap of paper. He rolled it into a fine cylinder and passed to Erand through one of the sound facilitation holes in the glass. Erand unrolled the parchment, and the blood drained from his face with just a glance. It was the exact same note he had seen stuck on top of the case file in Serann's office. His eyes scrolled down to the words written after what he had been able to read earlier: "The above was a lie; you've fallen into our trap." In the next instant, a security guard had already grabbed him from behind. Within seconds, he was handcuffed, blindfolded and gagged, and he passed out from the sudden trauma.

  Erand came to completely unbound but on a dirty stone floor in the middle of a desolate warehouse. Stacks of crates as far as his eyes could see stretched out in all directions. The ceiling appeared to be about fifty feet above his head. He searched his mind in an attempt to explain his predicament and remembered reading something to the extent of "falling into a trap."

  If it really was a trap, then how in the hell did it end up on Serann's case file?

  Erand suddenly heard mocking laughter coming from behind him. He turned and saw no one but rather a large speaker built into the far wall.

  "You're probably wondering how our little note got into your superior's case file," a voice coming from the speaker cackled.

  Erand raised an eyebrow despite the apparent lack of anyone who would read his facial expressions as he spoke. "So you knew then that I had read it. Are you in cahoots with someone at the office?"

  The laugh sounded again, echoing sinisterly through the warehouse. "But of course. You know him very well actually. Or at least you think you do."

  Erand instantly deduced whom they were speaking of and raised his voice. "What the hell does Serann have to do with any of this?"

  "Now, now, calm down. We wouldn't want you to bust a vein in your forehead when you hear the truth about him."

  "Truth? What truth!" Erand demanded.

  "Well this is the situation. We have him in our custody at this moment. Our ransom price is you doing all that we command you to. If you comply, we'll set him free relatively unscathed. But if you don't, we will sadly be unable to guarantee the safety of Royale's District Attorney. Ooh, wait a sec, he wants to have a word with you."

  Erand could hear some rustling and then a voice that sounded much like the superior he was used to taking commands from filled the room. "Erand, don't listen to their demands! Prioritize the safety of Royale and its people over min-."

  The voice changed again. "That will be enough, Winston."

  Now it was Erand's turn to laugh.

  "What's the matter, overdosing on nitrous oxide?"

  "It seems pretty clear to me you don't have Serann," Erand retorted.

  "Oh, you mean the voice inconsistency, correct?"

  Erand gasped.

  "Yes, well we wouldn't be so foolish as to kidnap such a prominent public without realizing the possible repercussions to our plan."

  "Your plan?" Erand inquired dubiously. "What exactly is your plan?"

  "We want you on our side, Erand, fighting for us."

  "What the hell do you mean fighting? For whom? For what?"

  "For your own heritage, Erand."

  Erand gave a mock cough and spat on the ground. "You're saying I should repay my father after all he's done for me? After he left behind such a terrible legacy in my wake?"

  "Your father at the time was merely acting as the circumstances would allow him to."

  "Circumstances?" Erand snarled. "What exactly was he trying to accomplish by raping and killing five women?"

&
nbsp; "Did you not take note of how each and every one of those women died?"

  "I... well..." Erand hesitated.

  "You know perfectly well that every single one of them died after successfully giving birth to the child he had impregnated them with as a result of the rape."

  "So what about that?"