The Paladin Archives Book Two The Withering Falseblade

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The Paladin Archives Book Two The Withering Falseblade Page 52

by Jason Psilopoulos


  "Is there anymore, Mr. Cortez?" Mary asked, ending the silence. Sage smirked.

  "Actually, yes. I checked our ‘heroes’ against the Paladin Registry Database here in Littlefield. The three paladins that are on the video do not match anyone in the Littlefield database. Nor were there any patrols of paladins in the area. And no one returned to Littlefield with Miss Burton in tow. Not in Norik, nor in Meridian." Vincent grinned.

  "Someone posing as paladins, who conveniently arrive at a car crash and kidnap the victims to . . . what? Impersonate them?" he offered smugly. “You stretch your credibility, Mr. Cortez.” Sage nodded.

  "True enough. However, my credibility is not in question here. I am presenting matters of incontrovertible fact. Evidence. Not testimony.” Vincent went quiet. “After the incident with Marcus, Rebekah and a young cameraman on this very campus, I think any number of people could be posing as paladins. Innovan or not. Marcus’s would-be photographer only had a rudimentary knowledge of sewing and he managed to get that picture. Not exactly a super spy.” Mary chuckled at that. “Somehow, these people are escaping notice. Either they’re being ignored, or someone is approving insurgents on the campus.

  “But without a ransom, it would be hard to identify who it was posing as paladins or what they wanted with Miss Burton. And with Miss Burton appearing here at the campus just a few hours later, who would ask any questions?" Sage raised his finger. "I don't believe in coincidences, so I did some checking, running a face-recognition program on the Triumphant's main computer. And these three men, whom it is safe to assume are under someone else's orders, have been on campus for the last few days. In fact, they and twenty-seven others have been seen walking about the campus, frequenting the Quad, the area immediately surrounding the Paladin Office Complex, and the Roachman and Ar-Torious buildings. And not a one of them is a paladin according to the manifests in the Littlefield computers. A few of them are reporters or persons of no consequence. Some of them are on a few sorcerers wanted lists. But every last one of them bought a copy of the Green Grimoire within the first two days of its arrival in Littlefield. Of special note are these two." Sage popped up a screen of the three in question, and Marcus recognized them immediately.

  "Rand Alquiza and Skeel Follin!" he exclaimed. Sage nodded.

  “They were at Ms. Burton's alleged car accident, and have been spotted around campus, posing as paladins. They have even been seen talking to some of the underclassmen. Particularly, Monroe Prit and his little group of miscreants. One can reason that they were the ones who convinced Prit and his friends to threaten Uther in the Youth Barracks a few days ago." Jack's face reddened slightly. He was glad to know he had another reason to bash on Monroe Prit’s face.

  "On two separate occasions, these two were seen talking to Darius March, or his body double if you will, here on the campus. Darius never purchased one of Miss Burton’s books. Instead, Rand gave him one. Obviously in an attempt not to pin a paper trail to him, since he is supposed to be dead.” Sage manipulated the view a little, showing Darius returning to his quarters on the Triumphant. “Mr. March came back to get a few of his things before the Power Tumbler. As he headed out, he handed the book to Tracy Lesnin. Tracy turned out to also be Elza Burke. We did a search after the attack on the Triumphant and found Tracy's body stuffed into a cargo locker near where she and I had been working on a fused conduit. She'd tripped and fallen when I wasn't looking. I thought she was just clumsy, which was true to her character. But that's when the switch was made, we surmise. She'd been dead for a while already when we found her." Sage's face read of disappointment for the briefest of seconds. He took in a breath and continued. "We also found a copy of the Grimoire in Tracy’s quarters. Ms. Burke used the information in the book to locate the Gauntlet, which she would need to take the Falseblade from the Triumphant's main engine core sphere. And that she did, with catastrophic results.”

  “What about the third guy?” Jack asked.

  "The third man is not terribly well known in the guise he's wearing. In fact, with all this stuff on, he's actually quite well hidden. But the Triumphant's criminal identification software is unbelievably advanced." Sage did a quick manipulation of the picture. The hair and the mustache suddenly disappeared, leaving a hawkish nose and a firm look on his face.

  "Simon Houghton," Ian exclaimed, his voice not wringing with surprise.

  "Ringleader of the media group parading around campus. Miss Burke's magics to fool the senses cannot fool the cameras, since cameras do not operate by anything other than simple science. Mirrors, digital still technology and the like. Simon, an expert in computer generated imagery, holography and photo and audio fakery, was on hand to make sure that the press was firmly entrenched on the campus, and to make sure that any and all pictures, videos and sound bites would be properly processed and screened to allow her presence to remain hidden as she enacted their plot. Everything needed to be screened and filtered so any pictures or video feeds would appear as expected. Otherwise, someone would see Miss Burke for what she really was and the whole thing would be blown. I imagine many of the press are a part of his subterfuge, even if they don't realize it." A few paladins moved toward the doors, prompted to collect Mister Houghton. “If one looks closely at the recent pictures and videos of Jennifer Burton, it is clear she has been doctored. Even completely computer generated in some cases. This is a highly professional job, but it is by no means perfect.”

  "That still doesn't prove anyone to be a mole. If anything, Simon Houghton is the mastermind," one of the Council Members stated. Sage was undeterred.

  "In tracking Simon's whereabouts, I found something rather disturbing. He's a very accomplished reporter. The man has broken the news on more scandals and discoveries than anyone else this century. It can be assumed that he incited many of them. But here at the Academy, he has been amazingly lacking in presence. He was not at the incident at the Tumbler, which should have been his regular beat. Instead, he was reported as ill. Nor was he present during the attack on the Holodrome just two days ago, even though he did attempt to interview Marcus before the incident." Marcus nodded.

  "I crushed his microphone. I gave him the perfect alibi." Sage shrugged.

  "Triumphant tactical data shows that he was not a part of the media control crew that helped coordinate with Captain Dirk's security force during the siege. He wasn't even among the contingent of media outside the Holodrome after the siege began. Simon Houghton, the world's most tenacious reporter, was a no show." Sage began tapping his data pad again.

  "Surveillance footage from the Holodrome shows him skulking around, and entering the Holo-Control room during the Power Tumbler event. I submit that as a computer genius, he altered the program in Ms. Norik's competition, or went as far as controlling it directly. A computer search should determine. But the fact that he was there, without any type of clearance of his own, shows that someone with proper clearance allowed him to pass." Marcus started to pace a little, thinking it through.

  "Only people with the proper credentials could enter that room without an escort. The doors open with a card key." Sage nodded.

  "Right. The card key operates by using a person's bio-metric data as a code template. Heartbeat, fingerprints, ATGC profile. If all the data is within parameters that suggest they are not being coerced or drugged in any fashion, the doors will open. Simon doesn't have one and it has too many variables to be hacked. Which means he either stole it, or he was given one." Vincent looked a little nervous. Somehow, Marcus could tell this was sitting very poorly in the pit of his stomach.

  "Allowing unauthorized access to the Holodrome computers is a serious breach of protocol. Punishment can include a prison term," Mary said wisely, consulting a paladin law book.

  "No reports of stolen or discontinued cards were on file here at the Academy. According to official records, the most recent assignment of a card for use in the Holodrome was to Marcus Kasidyne,” Sage said. Marcus held his up for all to see. “An examination o
f the card will show its recent usage. Simon didn't steal it by any such means. But he did pay two visits to the complex here. One was official, to interview you, Sir Garamond. The other was not." The image shifted again, showing Simon meeting with a paladin who was slightly obscured in a nighttime shadow.

  "I can't tell who it is," Jack said softly. Sage nodded.

  "Nor could I at first. But his face is there. It's the only slip up our sneaky little mastermind made. Everything else is perfect. Everything else points to other people. Rand, Skeel, March, Burke and Houghton. But this was the one lapse that I found. And it's a doozy. If you freeze the image and enhance the color, he becomes visible." The image brightened visibly. Every eye turned at the sight. Cristoph Lefein, second to Vincent, stood in the photograph. Cristoph scoffed at the image on the screen.

  "Photo Fakery, nothing more. Houghton must’ve placed my face there." Sage shook his head as he returned the image and watched as the shadowed paladin handed Simon a small card before retreating into the office building.

  "This photo has not been altered. Again, use any computer in the world to confirm that." Sage said passively. “I dare you.”

  "Houghton wouldn't make that kind of mistake. He's too anal-retentive to miss something like this. If it was his responsibility, Simon would've handled it," Marcus stated, knowing Simon's tendencies. "Sage never would've found this piece of footage. It just wouldn't have existed." Vincent's face was red with barely contained anger.

  "Let me see your card key Cristoph." Cristoph shrugged mildly.

  "Why?"

  "If you don't have it, you're under arrest. If you do have it, we're going to check its usage, and turn it over to forensics. Houghton's bio-metric information could be on it. In that case, you'll be under arrest again." Cristoph looked offended.

  "You're going to believe the overactive imagination of an elf over me?" Vincent took a step closer, his fists clenched into massive balls.

  "Your key please." Cristoph stood, reaching into the folds of his cloak. He fumbled for a bit, his face going from defensive outrage to confused panic. He checked the other pocket, but found nothing.

  "I don't- This proves nothing. The elf is lying. I'm not a mole. I've been a paladin all my life!" Vincent stood firm, his face as solid as a stone. "This whole thing's a scam. I'm not a mole for the Innova."

  "You're in charge of the budget here in Littlefield. You suggested Fall Memoria could help us with funding." Cristoph began to back away, panic on his face. Vincent continued. "You've prodded me about having the media present, and about having Jennifer Burton show at the Sodaro wedding. In fact, you went out of your way to get her into the Holodrome. And we wouldn’t have a funding issue unless you had doctored the budget somehow."

  "Circumstantial. All things that can be explained." Vincent shrugged.

  "Explain then." Cristoph straightened up and composed himself. "NOW!" The room was quiet, except for Sir Lefein clearing his throat.

  "I wish to state for the record that every last one of you is a fool. If you could see beyond your own faces and realize that I'm on your side . . ." The sentence trailed off. Cristoph shook his head and clasped his hands behind his back. "And now I'm going to leave here, and you can't stop me." He turned to run, stopping short of busting his nose on the muzzle of Donavan's pistol. Donavan shook his head.

  "The hell I can't.” Cristoph looked as though he were about to growl. “Stay. Things're just getting interesting." Vincent grabbed Cristoph with his vice-like hands and pinned him against the wall. A sweep of his hand tore open the man’s tunic, revealing a green leaf tattoo on his shoulder.

  "Very interesting Cristoph." Sir Lefein's face drained of all color.

  "It's . . . I . . .." Vincent shook his head, partly in disappointment.

  "Call security. We have an intruder."

  Epilogue

  Marcus didn't want to do what he was about to, but it couldn't be helped. Vincent agreed, after a profuse apology, that things needed to change. And Marcus would not be able to do that at the Academy. He needed to go. There were too many things at stake.

  The halls of the hospital were eerie that evening, quiet except for the monitors. He was coming to say a farewell. He had to go. Rebekah would understand. He just needed to say something before he departed. The room was dark as Marcus stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He stood in place for a long moment, not sure exactly what he was going to say. Rebekah wasn't listening. Not really. But Marcus knew she could hear him. In the darkness, he stepped forward, and gasped.

  "Hey stranger," Rebekah croaked out, her voice dull. Marcus rushed at her, wrapping his arms around her in the longest, strongest embrace he could manage. Rebekah grunted a little at the strength of it, and patted him with unsteady hands.

  "My God in Heaven. Rebekah!" Marcus cried, his tears unfettered by any pride or embarrassment. She was all right.

  "I missed you too," she managed weakly. Marcus pulled away and looked at her face. She looked tired, but unbelievably beautiful. Rebekah smiled, flexing her hands. They felt like they'd been asleep for weeks. "Did I win the Tumbler." Marcus laughed between tears. "I'm serious. No one ever told me."

  It took another week to set all the preparations. Marcus strode onto the bridge of the Triumphant, pushing Rebekah's wheelchair in front of him. She'd insisted on going, and Marcus had been all too happy to have her along. The trip would be dangerous, but she was safer here. Marcus nodded to Sage at the engineering substation. He smiled. He looked in good spirits. All the indicators on his display read nominal. Marcus had yet to thank him for his defense. Sage had really come through for him. Marcus would make it up to him somehow.

  Rebekah could see everyone she'd come to know on the command deck. Donavan sat in his chair, awaiting his final clearance. Ian and Aiko were together, hand in hand. Rebekah was sorry she'd missed the wedding. Not that she regretted missing the reception. Hikaru and Tetsuo stood off to the side. Hikaru looked as unpleasant as Rebekah had been told. Jack and Mary were the only ones not coming along. They’d made a very convincing argument when Marcus had told them he was leaving. Donavan and Sage were his transport. And Rebekah wasn’t about to let Marcus leave without her. Ian and Aiko wouldn’t be staying. They had a honeymoon to get to. Marcus was simply dropping them off. Tetsuo and Hikaru were going to Eriko from Norik.

  But Mary and Jack had leveled a very simple campaign to come along. They were targets now. Jack and Mary were enemies of the Innova because of their involvement. If they stayed in Littlefield, they’d probably be killed in their sleep. Marcus couldn’t really argue with that. And both had a personal stake in the matter. They wanted to find Ellis. Unfortunately, they couldn’t come along. Marcus needed them keeping an eye on things in Littlefield.

  Marcus glanced at the security monitors as he walked past. The newly designed holding quarters was drawing a lot of power, but it wasn’t being tampered with. Elza Burke was secure. Marcus had been adamant about bringing her along. Something about it felt right.

  "Are we ready?" Kelwren said from behind them all. Marcus glanced down at Rebekah and nodded. Kelwren remained neutrally quiet, not wanting to disturb the normal operations of the ship.

  "We have clearance from the Dock Master," Eddie said coolly. Donavan nodded, leaning forward in his chair.

  "Take her up Mister Nichols." The great ship shuddered for just a moment, beginning to lift off. Sage beamed with pride as his rebuilt engine rumbled to life. The horizon lowered beneath the plexi-glass bowl of the bridge dome, opening the clear blue sky to their view.

  "Heading sir?" Donavan looked to Marcus. Marcus looked outward, knowing that the future was before them. It was uncertain, but not unknown. He would face it as he always had. With faith that it would all be right.

  "East Mister Nichols." Eddie plotted a course, tapping the console deftly. “We're going to start in Norik.” The great silver bird roared in the open space above the Academy, leaping forward and attacking the great azure skyline. It would
n't take long to find what they were looking for. Marcus was sure of that.

  One Week Ago . . .

  The car seemed to be darker than Jennifer had expected. She was lying down rather than sitting. She remembered falling asleep, but she'd been belted in at that point. She couldn't have fallen onto the floor without waking herself.

  "Hello?" she called out, sitting up slowly. Her voice echoed a little. She wasn't in the car anymore. She stood up and searched around, hoping for a light switch somewhere. The room brightened suddenly, blinding her for an instant. She rubbed her eyes clear, and saw the source of the sudden beacon.

  "Hello there my dear," Drew Anger said quietly. He pulled a long, scythe-like blade from his belt and smiled. "I'm glad you're awake." With a shove, Drew forced her into a small room behind her. Jennifer fell on the floor, skidding to a stop on the polished surface. She glanced around, partly in panic. The entry was round, and the room was spherical.

  "What the heck Drew?" Drew's face wavered slightly as he smiled, seeming to lose its form. That's when the great round door swiveled into place. The room was without light and void of any sound but her breathing. Jennifer didn't know if she should scream.

  * * *

  [Jason Psi1]

 

 

 


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