The Felix Chronicles: Tides of Winter

by R. T. Lowe

  Malone folded his arms and frowned gravely. “Hit them where it hurts, of course. We’ve been assessing the threats and prioritizing a strike list based on relative criticality and the likelihood of success.” He stared down at the table for a moment. “I shouldn’t be telling you this as you haven’t indicated where you’ll be tomorrow night, but we’re almost certainly going to target a telecommunications substation.”

  “A substation?” Allison asked. “For what?”

  “Kayla told you about the New Government’s hacking capabilities, right?” When they nodded, he continued. “We can’t fight Lofton if we can’t communicate, and we believe all cellular communications are filtered through one central substation. If we knock it out, Lofton won’t be able to know our moves before we do.”

  “Where is it?” Allison asked.

  “Not far from Ashfield Forest,” Malone answered. “In fact, the land it sits on used to be part of Lofton’s holdings until he sold it to the government a few years back.”

  “Why’d he sell it?” Felix asked.

  “It’s an indication of the substation’s importance. Lofton, we think, believes it’s safer in government hands since government ownership should theoretically act as a deterrent to anyone with sights on destroying it.”

  “Did you say tomorrow night?” Allison asked. “What does where we’ll be tomorrow night have anything to do with this?” Her eyes widened with understanding. “You’re doing it tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  Malone shrugged and gave her a conspiratorial smile. “If you happen to find yourselves outside Stubbins Stadium at midnight tomorrow, perhaps we can take a ride together.”

  “Damn,” Allison said softly. “This just got real in a hurry.”

  “I have a question,” Felix said to the professor, thinking he had to put the brakes on this whole conversation. He felt like a car salesman had just handed him the keys to a vehicle he hadn’t agreed to buy. “Did you tell anyone about Allison’s powers? That she’s an Empath?”

  “Yes,” Malone answered after a short pause. “I told Zara.” His eyes met Felix’s and didn’t waver. “I understand why you’re asking. I spoke to Allison about it so I know the Protectors set a trap that required knowledge of Allison’s abilities. All I can tell you is I trust Zara with my life, and that goes for everyone else in my Fortress.”

  “What about Kane and Lilly?” Felix challenged. “Would you have said the same about those psychos?”

  Malone sighed. “That was very regrettable and I’m sorry for what they did to you. I know how that must color your entire perception of the Order, and my Fortress in particular. That said, I don’t believe there is any possibility the Protectors learned of Allison’s empathic abilities from someone in my Fortress. Which means”—his eyes shifted questioningly to Allison—“you need to consider who else knew about them.”

  “Our friends?” Felix burst out. “That’s ridiculous. They haven’t tried to kill me, but Kane and Lilly sure as hell did!” He stared Malone down, infuriated that the professor was insinuating one of his friends could be a Protector. There weren’t many in this world he trusted, but he trusted Lucas, Harper and Caitlin.

  “No offense intended,” Malone said cordially. “I’m sorry if I offended you. Someone, however, betrayed your confidence, and before you decide it must be someone in my Fortress, I would respectfully ask you to consider alternate possibilities. If you keep an open mind, you’ll be more likely to discover the truth.”

  Felix breathed through his nose, calming the anger creeping under his skin. He exchanged a glance with Allison and began to stand.

  “One more thing,” Malone said, holding out a hand to Felix. “There is an elephant in the room and I’d like to address it now. Some in the Order believe you may be the Belus. You were born to fire and your conception is something of a mystery. Kayla’s account of your heroics at the fair has spread to all the Fortresses, and I dare say I’m sensing hopefulness in our ranks, an excitement and a purpose that has been missing for as long as any of us can remember. But whatever you decide to do tomorrow night, I want you to know I’m not asking the Belus. I’m asking Felix. Whatever you are—or aren’t—will be borne out in time, and I would be proud to stand by you and Allison when we strike the first blow for humanity.”

  “Okay,” Felix said simply. He’d heard enough. It was time to go. He gathered his coat and backpack and let himself out.

  “Hey!” Allison said from behind. “You okay?”

  Felix stopped and pointed at Malone’s door. “That was a recruiting pitch, and you told me—”

  “At least it was tactful,” Allison said with an apologetic smile. “But c’mon, you know we can’t be neutral forever.” Felix started up and Allison walked beside him. “I mean, how neutral are we now?”

  “Seriously?” Felix burst out. “Trying to keep Hamlen alive isn’t the same thing as destroying a government building!” He glanced around at the students milling about in the hall outside the classrooms. He lowered his voice. “If we take that ride with Malone, we’re in the Order—officially. Then what do we do?”

  “One step at a time.” Allison started for the staircase.

  “Not helpful,” Felix muttered, continuing down the hall.

  “What’d you think I’d—hey!” She turned. “Where are you—?” Her eyes searched the hall, fixing on the door to a familiar office. She caught up with him. “What are you doing?”

  He wasn’t sure. He gave the brass knob a little turn and the door opened. Hesitating for a second, he stepped inside, the floorboards creaking under his feet. Bill’s office had been cleaned out, no books on the shelves or the floor and no maps on the wall behind the huge executive’s desk. The room was dim and gloomy, the last of the day’s light filtering in through the window capturing a film of dust on the bookshelves.

  “Look what I found,” Allison said from behind the desk.

  Felix turned to see Allison handing him a baseball bat by the barrel, a yellow and black Easton. He smiled and curled his fingers around the handle. “He said he’d break my fingers with this if I didn’t read the Journal.” He let out a laugh. “I think he would’ve too.”

  Allison went to the window and looked out at The Yard and the buildings beyond it, their windows glowing soft and white. She sat on the table, her eyes flashing around the office. “Feels so…”

  “Empty?” Felix finished. “He must’ve had a thousand books in here. Said he took them wherever he went.” He shook his head. “I asked him why but I don’t think he, um, ever told me.”

  “I think he liked his secrets,” Allison said. “Maybe he should’ve trusted you more.”

  Felix shrugged, thinking it wouldn’t have changed anything. Bill never would have agreed to give Lofton the Journal. But you’ll never know, he reminded himself. You never asked.

  Felix’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked the number. He didn’t recognize it or know anyone with a 617 area code. Someone trying to sell him something, he thought, as he touched the screen and said, “Hello.”

  “Hello Felix,” the voice on the other end said. “This is William Stout.”

  William Stout? Bill? The voice was accented like Bill’s, but harsher, raspier.

  “Felix,” the voice said, “I’m Bill’s father. We obviously never met and I doubt he spoke to you about me.”

  Bill’s father? Was this a joke? A prank?

  “I know who you are,” the voice went on. “I read the Journal shortly after my son found it at your mother’s. Bill and I had our differences, but as it pertains to you, he shared everything with me.”

  Felix cleared his throat as Allison mouthed the words “Bill’s father?” and tilted her ear close to the phone. Felix widened his eyes at her and stuttered into the receiver, “I’m… I’m sorry. Your… your name… you said…?”

  “William,” the voice answered. “The same as my son, my father, and my father’s father. What we Stouts lack in originality we make up for in predicta
bility.”

  “Okay,” Felix said. Was that supposed to be a joke?

  “I’m calling to let you know that Bill bequeathed his entire estate to you.”

  “I know,” Felix admitted. “I saw the will.” He hadn’t thought about it since that night.

  “Do you know what you’re inheriting?” William asked.

  “No sir,” Felix said, not sure why he’d referred to him as ‘sir’. “I honestly forgot about it. We have a lot, you know, going on.”

  “I imagine you do.” William paused. “We? Is Allison with you?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “Bill told me about her.”

  “Oh,” Felix said uncomfortably. What else could he say?

  “You should be receiving documents from Bill’s lawyers within the week, which will include a statement of the assets he held at the time of his… his death.” William coughed. “The lawyers provided me with a courtesy copy so I can tell you, in case you’re curious, that Bill owned property in Portland, an apartment and a house in Boston, a villa on the Amalfi coast in Italy, six automobiles, and liquid assets of just over fifty million dollars.”

  “Excuse me?” Felix said, stunned. Bill had driven an expensive car and his house near campus was nice and in a good neighborhood, but he never imagined he had that kind of money.

  “You sound surprised,” William commented. “Bill came into his trust at eighteen, and though he squandered some of it, he allowed our family’s money managers to reinvest it in the markets.”

  “Okay,” Felix said.

  Allison slapped his arm and whispered, “Fifty million dollars?”

  “Sir,” Felix began, “I don’t know what to do with… that’s a lot of money.”

  “Wealth, like everything else, is relative, Felix. The liquid assets are managed by a financial firm in Boston that’s handled my family’s money since the financial crash in 1929. They’re conservative yet shrewd—the best in the business in my opinion. You’re free to take your money wherever you like, though I’d suggest you keep it with them. The documents will include the financial portfolios, real estate and other asset information, and a list of the lawyers, accountants and financial professionals who will ensure your money never becomes a burden to you.”

  “Okay,” Felix said, feeling overwhelmed.

  “Do you have any questions?” William asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Felix said.

  “It’s easier to manage than it sounds, Felix. I think once you have a chance to review the documentation it will all make sense.”

  “Okay.” Felix waited, unsure if that was the end of the call. “Thank you,” he added.

  “This is hard,” William said, his voice even hoarser than before. “They say no parent should ever have to bury a child. I can attest to that. My wife and I flew Bill’s body home, and per his instructions, he was cremated. It was just the two of us there. Bill… he gave up… so much. He could have been anything he set his mind to, but… well, you know the story.”

  “I’m sorry,” Felix said and the emptiness of the office made his words feel even hollower than they sounded.

  “I understand there was a man found with Bill, the man who killed him. I’ve been told he died of some kind of cardiac event.” William paused for a beat. “Are you aware of this cardiac event?”

  Felix understood what he was really asking. “Yes, I’m aware of what happened to his heart.”

  “Good. Then I owe you my thanks.”

  “You’re… welcome?” Felix felt awkward, stupid.

  “And this man was responsible?” William asked. “Are you sure of that?”

  “Yes,” Felix lied.

  “The man wasn’t acting alone.” It didn’t sound like a question.

  “No,” Felix replied.

  “When a man becomes my age all he has is his children,” William said slowly, his voice harsh and gravelly. “Now I have nothing but anger and… more anger. I want the people who did this to my son and I want them dead. Do you hear me, Felix? I know where this trail leads so I know what I’m asking.” William began to scream. “My son gave up his life for you! You owe me! Do you hear me?”

  “Yes,” Felix said, stunned by the sudden rage, feeling his eyes begin to water.

  “I know what you are, Felix. I know what you’re capable of. When you find the people responsible, I want you to end them. Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand.”

  The line went dead.

  Felix stared at the phone, shell shocked. “Holy shit,” he breathed.

  Allison appeared just as shaken up. “Damn.” Her eyes were still wide. “Intense.”

  “Yeah,” Felix agreed.

  “You don’t owe him anything,” Allison said, though a trace of uncertainty carried in her voice.

  “Really?” Felix said to her. “You believe that?”

  Allison chewed on the inside of her mouth and glanced warily around the office. “Of all the times that guy could have called, he phones when we’re here. What are the chances of that?”

  “Yeah,” Felix said, feeling a chill whisper down his spine. “It’s a little spooky. Let’s get outta here.”

  “I guess Bill really was more than just a groundskeeper.” Allison smiled playfully. “Fifty million dollars, huh? Think you can afford to buy me a coffee?”

  Chapter 32

  PRESCRIPTIONS

  Milio was already beginning to annoy Harper. Like many men his age that she knew, he considered her youth a liability, and therefore her opinions were inherently flawed, her decisions suspect. Harper thought he was an out of touch bureaucrat, a paper-pushing messenger who believed his access to the Oligarchs—the leaders of the Protectors—somehow meant he shared their right to enforce the Protectors’ laws.

  “Whoever kills her will be honored on the Wall of Names,” Milio stated for the third time. “The Oligarchs have proclaimed it. We must have revenge for what she has done.”

  “That’s their decision.” Harper stared at the metal exit doors in the rear of the Bryant Center, doors she’d never seen anyone use in all the times she’d met Milio here. “That’s not what the Wall’s for, but no one asked me.”

  “That is correct.” He pointed, but the effect was odd as he was missing all but his pinkie finger. “No one asked you.”

  She held her tongue, smiling at his sour, pinched face, his white hair receding yet long in back.

  “She must be killed,” Milio said.

  “Killed?” Harper exclaimed in frustration. “I could kill Allison whenever I want, but what would that accomplish? Felix is sympathetic to Lofton—I’ve told you that a hundred times. If we kill Allison, you know what he’s going to do? He’s going to say ‘screw Lofton’, ‘screw the Order’, and then he’ll make it his life’s mission to kill us! Then what? You know how that would end? How would you like a taste? He’s on campus—probably the coffee shop or the library. I’ll lead you right to him. You can cut him if you’re lucky and if you get the jump on him. Then you know what he’ll do? He’ll explode your head and his wounds will heal. You’ll be dead and he’ll drink a beer and play video games with his roommate.”

  “Mind your place.”

  “How can I mind my place when none of you seem to understand what’s going on here? Killing Allison only makes sense if Felix believes Lofton’s responsible.”

  “You tried that,” Milio said coldly. “It failed.”

  “My plan failed—not the logic behind it. Allison is one Sourceror. One! But if you just let me finish what I started, we can wipe out these demons once and for all. If Felix believes Lofton killed Allison he’ll join the Order and Sourcerors will start dropping like flies. Why can’t the Oligarchs see the bigger picture? Am I the only one trying to save the world?”

  “The Oligarchs perspective is timeless.”

  “Then maybe they’re due for a dose of reality.”

  “Perhaps you should tell them yourself.” He raised an eyebrow, baitin
g her. “I can arrange a meeting.”

  “So they can tell me to mind my place?” Harper snapped. “I’m asking you, respectfully, to be patient. I have a plan, and I promise, this time, it won’t fail, because this time, I’m going to do it myself. I just need an opportunity and that’s one variable I can’t control. When the moment is right, Allison will bleed out at my feet. Okay? Is that good enough for you? And just so we’re clear, no one, I mean no one, wants that bitch dead more than me! I’m so sure of success, Milio, I’ve actually practiced the tears of sorrow I’ll shed when I tell Felix how Lofton’s latest girlfriend ran Allison through with her spear. I’ll be very dramatic”—she smiled—“and very believable.”

  “You have one week, Harper,” Milio declared as though he was granting her an enormous honor. “After that, the Oligarchs will—”

  “Hey!” a voice rang out.

  Milio turned, and behind him, Harper saw Lucas, staring confusedly.

  “Hey Lucas,” Harper said smoothly, shooting a glance at Milio, a silent message to do nothing. “What are you doing here?”

  “Me?” Lucas said, directing his thumb at his chest. “Intramural basketball. I forgot my ID and the douchey Beta working the door won’t let me in so Brant’s gonna sneak me in through the back.” He paused, his suspicious eyes flitting back and forth between them. “What are you doing here?”

  Milio turned to Harper. “I trust you will take care of this.” He stepped past Lucas and limped away down the path, heavily favoring his right leg.

  “What’s going on?” Lucas demanded. “Who was that guy?”

  “I really wish you hadn’t seen that,” Harper said, reaching behind her back, making it appear casual.

  “Seen what? What are you doing?”

  Harper’s hands flashed toward Lucas. In each palm, she cradled a prescription bottle. “I’m so embarrassed,” she said miserably. “That guy, um, he’s my, God this sounds terrible. He’s my drug, my drug…”