The Falken Chronicles

by Piers Platt

  “Mm-hm,” Niebold said. “And there are still some holes in your theory. How did all the tools get in your father’s trunk? How did the evidence from the murder scene end up in the trash at your father’s house?”

  “The sheriff planted them there?” Vina guessed.

  “When? How?” Niebold asked. “I can’t see how they would have pulled that off without your Dad noticing something. The only person your father claimed to have seen that evening before he headed up to the crime scene was your grandfather.”

  “Yeah,” Vina admitted, sighing.

  “Listen, there’s something a little off about this whole situation, I agree with you,” Niebold said. “But to be frank, Vina, it doesn’t help that you’re not an unbiased source here.” He turned his computer screen back off. “I can tell you my boss is going to see this as a fishing expedition.”

  “He wouldn’t let you investigate it?” Vina asked, looking up.

  The agent shook his head sadly. “No. Not with what you’ve got right now. I think you gotta let this one go.”

  Vina took a deep breath, and then nodded. She put away her datapad and stood up. “Well, thank you for your time. I appreciate you hearing me out, at least.”

  “Absolutely,” Niebold said. He opened the door to his office, holding it for her. “I’m sorry I can’t be of any more assistance.”

  They shook hands in the lobby, and then Vina caught another auto-cab back to the maglev terminal. Her train was already boarding when she arrived – she picked up a sandwich at a small food kiosk, and then climbed up to the platform level and stepped inside the maglev, finding a seat by a window. The doors closed and the train pulled out of the station, smoothly accelerating. Vina watched the city slip by, and then the buildings gave way to open countryside.

  “I think you gotta let this one go,” she thought. And Mom would undoubtedly agree. If I’m not careful, this would be the point where it stops being something I’m interested in and turns into something I’m obsessed with.

  She took a bite of the sandwich.

  Niebold said I’m “not an unbiased source.” But he’s definitely unbiased, and so are Doctor Gillanon, and Professor Dunn. And all of them think I don’t have a case. They think Dad’s guilty. Even Mom thinks he is.

  She sipped from her water bottle.

  So why am I not convinced? Am I being biased, or just stubborn? She shook her head. Maybe a little of both. But if the Buckniels didn’t kill Tevka, who else could it have been, except Dad? Niebold’s right – it’s all too complicated. Maybe if I had a better sense for why Tevka kidnapped us in the first place …?

  In her mind, she heard Sheriff Buckniel’s voice. “… not one, but three people Tevka kidnapped. That’s a lot for one man to take on ….”

  She set the water bottle down, and began to screw the cap back on, and then stopped, remembering her conversation with Niebold.

  “The only person your father claimed to have seen that evening before he headed up to the crime scene …,” Niebold had said.

  The bottle cap fell from her fingers, rolling across the tray table in front of her. With a trembling hand, Vina pulled her datapad out of her bag. She set it on her lap and called up the video of the press conference following the kidnapping, one more time.

  “Please help me find my family,” Sef Weaver pleaded, his haunted eyes staring at her through the cameras.

  Sheriff Buckniel stepped forward, but Vina focused on her grandfather, watching as he shifted over on the town hall steps, making room for her father to stand beside him.

  “… reward for any information that leads to their rescue,” the sheriff was saying. “Questions? Yes – you.” Buckniel pointed toward a female reporter.

  “There are reports that a large number of law enforcement personnel have begun searching McMurtry State Park, south of town,” the reporter said. “Care to comment?”

  McMurtry Park is where Tevka hid us, Vina thought. They didn’t know it at the time, but Buckniel and his men had good instincts. They almost found us that first day. She reversed the video, watching her grandfather’s face.

  “… personnel have begun searching McMurtry State Park …” the reporter said.

  At the mention of the park’s name, Rauno Korhonen’s eyebrows shot up.

  Is he … surprised?

  She rewound the video once more, eyes locked on his face.

  “… McMurtry State Park …”

  No. He’s not surprised. He’s worried.

  Because he knew we were there.

  Chapter 27

  “Don’t even twitch,” Auresh warned Falken, resting the blade of his knife against Weaver’s throat.

  Falken watched as Cadellium finished binding Saltari to a tree, and then pushed Ngobe against another tree, and began winding the wire around his torso. I can’t believe these assholes are getting in the way again.

  “I’m sorry, Falken,” Weaver said, swallowing with care. “They snuck up on me while I was in the ship. I didn’t hear them coming.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Falken told him. “It’s me they’re after – I brought them here.” In more ways than one.

  “True enough,” Auresh agreed. “And this time, we made sure your warden friend was good and distracted. There’s some kind of fighting tournament happening back at the facility. So we’ve got you all to ourselves.”

  “So let them go,” Falken said, indicating his friends. “You want me, I’m all yours. They have nothing to do with this.”

  “We’ll let them go when we’re finished with you,” Auresh said. “For now, I’d rather keep an eye on them.”

  “Done,” Cadellium announced, stepping back from the tree.

  “They’re secure?” Auresh asked.

  “I tied it just like you showed me,” Cadellium said. He tugged on the wires running across Ngobe’s chest.

  Falken snorted. “Does Auresh tie your shoelaces for you, too?”

  Anger flashed in Cadellium’s eyes. “Keep pissing us off. We’ll see how it works out for you,” the older man promised him, walking over to face Falken.

  “I imagine it will work out a lot like last time,” Falken said. “How’s your throat, by the way?”

  “Wrists,” the investor demanded, angrily.

  Falken held his hands out in front of him, and watched as Cadellium wrapped them up, then tied the cords in a knot. The cable dug cruelly into his wrists, and he could see the skin of his hands turning pale as the wires cut off his circulation.

  “Kneel,” Cadellium said.

  “Or what?” Falken asked.

  “Or your friend has his throat cut,” Cadellium said, gesturing at Weaver and Auresh. “Now kneel.”

  “So we’re not even going to pretend to make this a fair fight?” Falken asked.

  “It’s not a fight. If you fight back, your friend dies.” The investor bent over, and lifted a shovel off the ground.

  So that’s how it’s going to be, Falken thought. They’re just gonna take turns beating me to death. Fantastic.

  He knelt on the ground. Cadellium brought the shovel up, and swung it through a wide arc, slapping him hard across the back with it. Falken tumbled forward with a grunt of pain. His back felt like it was on fire, but he pushed himself off the ground and spat, defiantly, at Cadellium’s feet.

  “Hundred bucks says you get tired before I lose consciousness,” Falken said.

  Cadellium snarled and struck him with the shovel again, but this time he hit Falken with the tool’s edge, slicing Falken’s shirt open in a jagged line across his chest. Falken hissed, gritting his teeth.

  “The noose,” Auresh said, interrupting.

  Cadellium circled around Falken. From behind, he felt a loop of wire drop around his neck, and then Cadellium tugged on it, cinching it tight. Falken choked, and looked up to see that the wire was looped twice around a thick branch, high up in the trees above. Cadellium yanked down on the wire, hard, and Falken lurched to his feet, gasping for air. Auresh pi
cked up the other end of the line and wrapped it twice around his fist, keeping the wire taut.

  “This is barbaric,” Saltari protested.

  “Shut it, old man,” Auresh said. “Or you’ll be next.”

  As he struggled to stand tall enough to catch a breath, Falken met Weaver’s gaze. The bookkeeper had tears in his eyes, and Falken could see a thin rivulet of blood dripping down his neck – Auresh’s knife had nicked him.

  “I’m sorry,” Weaver mouthed.

  Past Weaver, out over the ocean, Falken could see a pair of New Australia’s moons in the sky. I could really use those eel-things right now, he thought. A little help from Oz, maybe? But the two moons in the sky were nowhere close to being aligned, and he could see no others. He heard a faint whistling, and then felt the shovel connect with his right side, under his arm. Underneath the wide, throbbing ache of its impact, he felt a sharp stabbing pain.

  That was a rib. Shit.

  Falken sagged forward, but Auresh hauled down on the noose, tugging him upright again.

  “Wait,” Falken gasped. “The … ship.”

  “What did he say?” Auresh asked.

  “He’s just stalling,” Cadellium replied, drawing the shovel back for another strike.

  “The ship,” Falken said again. He stamped on the ground with a free foot. “This ship.”

  “What about it?” Auresh asked.

  Falken swallowed, and took a wheezing breath, ignoring the protests of his ribs. “Escape pod. Can get you … back to Earth.”

  “What?” Cadellium asked. “You better not be bluffing.”

  “He’s not,” Ngobe said. “He told us the same thing.”

  “And me,” Weaver agreed. “That’s why we dug that hole over there, and cleared the trees. To make room for the rocket to take off.”

  Auresh and Cadellium looked over at the hole near the ship’s bow.

  “It’ll take us back to Earth?” Auresh asked, taking his weight off the wire.

  Falken nodded. “One of you.”

  “Just one?” Cadellium asked, eyeing Auresh with sudden apprehension.

  “Just one. But there’s another problem,” Falken said.

  “What’s that?” Auresh asked.

  “You gotta stop me from going, first,” Falken said. Lightning-quick, he reached up and grabbed the wire over his head in both hands, and hauled down on it. Auresh, holding the other end of the line, was yanked forward several feet, away from Weaver – he tumbled and fell, rolling in the dirt. Falken dashed forward, and felt another blow from Cadellium’s shovel glance off his back. He ignored it and sprinted toward the open hatch, and when he reached it, he leapt down into it with abandon, smashing into the ladder as he fell through into the airlock.

  Fuck me! Virtual reality shouldn’t hurt this much.

  Falken turned and spied the captain’s corpse, in the corridor on the far side of the airlock. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and scrambled forward, the cord still trailing from his neck.

  Almost there.

  Suddenly, the wire went taut, and he tipped backward.

  Shit. Someone’s pulling on the other end!

  Falken couldn’t breathe; he felt another hard tug on the wire, and he slid back several feet toward the ladder.

  … and now both of them are pulling on it.

  He grabbed the wire between his bound hands, pulled with all of his strength, and managed to gain enough slack to scramble back to the inner hatch. Falken let go of the wire and caught the lip of the hatch in his hands, then hauled himself through it with a guttural roar. He tried to gasp for air, but the noose had sunk in deep, and his vision was starting to blur. The captain’s rotting skull seemed to be watching him, his empty eye-sockets staring, teeth bared in a morbid grin.

  Close … so close.

  Falken put one foot against the bulkhead of the inner hatch and pushed, inching closer. He reached out with both hands, pushing the corpse aside. On the deck, next to the wall, he saw the pistol. He stretched his arm out, one finger brushing against the pistol’s grip. It moved, ever so slightly.

  Not … enough … slack.

  Falken strained against the cord, struggling to gain even an inch.

  Come on! Help me!

  Falken closed his eyes, and abruptly, he felt the pistol slide into his grasp. His hands closed around the grip, and Falken stopped fighting the pull of the rope. He fell backwards and slid across the floor, slamming into the ladder. As the cord loosened, he sucked in a deep, ragged breath. Then he felt the wire tighten again, and he was jerked upwards, back toward the top hatch. His feet left the deck a moment later – Cadellium and Auresh were pulling in concert now, hauling him head-first out of the ship. Falken’s chest banged against the outer hatch, and then he was free of the ship, rising up into the air over Lookout Hill, dangling from the tree branch.

  He looked down and saw Cadellium and Auresh, their hands on the line, snarling and sweating as they held him aloft. Falken raised the pistol and saw their eyes go wide in surprise.

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  Falken fell to the ground in a heap next to the hatch. He tore at the noose around his neck, and after a moment, it loosened enough that he could slip it off. He gagged, inhaling deeply, and spent a moment just catching his breath. Then he stood up and walked unsteadily over to the two men, who lay, bleeding, on the ground next to Weaver’s tree.

  Auresh sat clutching a bullet wound in his gut, wincing in pain. Cadellium lay on his face. Falken kicked at the older man’s shoulder, rolling him onto his back. His face was sheet-white, and his jaw worked silently. Beside him, Auresh opened his mouth to say something, but Falken shot him in the head, twice, and then turned and finished Cadellium off.

  Go back to your own version of the simulation, assholes.

  He tucked the pistol into his pocket and picked Auresh’s knife up off the ground. Falken cut Weaver free first, then let Weaver cut the bindings on his wrists.

  “Are you okay?” Weaver asked, frowning at the cut on Falken’s chest.

  “I’m okay,” Falken said, his throat hoarse. Nothing a good dose of reality won’t cure.

  Falken crossed over to Ngobe and set to work untying his knots, while Weaver slashed at the cords around Saltari.

  “Well done, Falken,” Ngobe said, eyeing the two dead men with distaste. “I was convinced our adventure with the ship was going to end before it had even started.”

  “Yeah,” Falken growled.

  “Mr. Weaver, it’s good to see you again,” Saltari said.

  “Hi, Salty,” Weaver said. “It’s been a long time.”

  Falken cleared his throat. “Come on. Let’s get inside … before somebody else tries to pick a fight with me.”

  “How many other sworn enemies do you have?” Ngobe asked.

  “I have no idea,” Falken said, coughing. He patted the pistol in his pocket. “But I’m running out of bullets, so let’s hope there aren’t many.”

  Chapter 28

  Vina burst into the bookstore, the doorbell jingling violently.

  “Mom? Mom!”

  Her mother’s head poked around the edge of a bookshelf. “Vina? What’s wrong?”

  “Where’s Grandpa?” Vina asked.

  Elize stepped out from behind the bookshelf. “He went up to a flea market in Allenville, scouting for books. Why?”

  “I need you to come with me,” Vina said, holding the door open.

  “What?” Elize asked, confused. “But the store—”

  “We’ll lock it up!” Vina said. “Just come on.”

  Elize set down the book she was holding and hurried to the front of the store. “Is your grandfather okay?”

  “As far as I know,” Vina said, stepping out into the street. She looked hurriedly both ways down the sidewalk, as her mother locked the front door.

  “Oh!” Elize exclaimed. “I forgot to set the sign to Closed.”

  “Leave it,” Vina said, tugging on her mother’s arm. “They’l
l figure it out when they find the door locked.”

  “You’re going to be the one that explains to your grandfather why his store was closed for no reason,” Elize warned her.

  Yeah … I’m not going to be the one doing the explaining, Vina thought.

  The two women climbed into Elize’s car. “Sheriff’s office,” Vina said, and the car backed out of its spot, joining the traffic on the street.

  “Okay, now you’re going to tell me what’s going on,” Elize said. “Why are we going to the police?”

  “I found something,” Vina said, staring through the windshield. “Or … I have a hunch. A strong one.”

  “A hunch about what?”

  “About Dad, and what really happened,” Vina said. “But every time I think I have something, it turns out to be nothing, so … that’s all I’m going to tell you right now. This time I’m going to get some proof before I cry wolf.”

  “Then why are we going to the police?” Elize asked.

  “I’m dropping you off, and this way, I’ll know you’re safe,” Vina said. The car made a turn, and she saw the sheriff’s office farther down the street.

  “Why wouldn’t I be safe? Where are you going?” Elize asked.

  The car slowed to a stop, and the passenger door swung open next to Elize.

  “I’m going to get that proof,” Vina said. “Tell Sheriff Buckniel I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “Vina, you’re making me worried,” Elize said, pausing with one foot out the door.

  “I got this, Mom,” Vina said. “Just stay here, okay?”

  Elize shook her head reluctantly, and then climbed out of the car. The door closed, and Vina stepped on the accelerator, pulling away. In the rear view mirror, she saw her mother watch her for a moment, and then turn and walk into the sheriff’s building.

  She drove fast at first – the car beeped at her in protest, and even corrected her steering in one instance, when she threatened to bump into another car. Vina slowed down after that, forcing herself to stay calm.

  No sense getting into an accident on the way there.

  She punched a button on the car’s dashboard. “Call Grandpa.”

  A dial tone came to her over the speakers, and then it rang. The call connected after the second ring.